Old Money

2009.11.26

We’re in a bit of a bind here in the U.S. We just got out of a presidency that doubled the National Debt in 8 years – quite a feat by itself – and now we’re trying to break the high scores board on the Debt in order to get out of the funk left by the last 10+ years of excess. Spending our way out of the problem is all we know, and it’s costly.

Apparently most of the world wasn’t doing so hot before our economy tanked either. Half the world’s population lives on less than the cost of your morning mint mocha latte. Picture one of those rickshaws being dragged through the streets of Bangalore. Now picture someone sitting in that rickshaw. That dude is pretty damn good by most country standards.

Point is, we all need money. We’ve been living on borrowed money for too long, and now we’re unclear on where it all came from in the first place. So we can wait for some solid plan and long, arduous efforts to pay off, and I’m pretty sure the Germans’ invading days are over. So where to we turn?

Tax church!

Say whaaaat?! Damn skippy, you heard me. Temples, mosques, churches, cathedrals, monoliths, sanctuaries… if you’re preaching to folks and getting their money, and you use that money to pay staff and grow your property, you sound like a business to me. Start paying.

The last church we were a part of (until every sermon turned into an NPR-esque pledge-a-thon) once sent everyone a “campaign slip” asking what we were willing to pledge each week. We usually dropped $5-$10 each week, so we rounded up and said $10. Toward the end of that year, we got a letter in the mail stating how much we had pledged, how much we actually gave, and the difference. It might as well have said “Balance due“. That moment crystallized it for me. This church was collecting membership dues for it’s faith services. It was paying off the expenses of its recent expansion, rallying support for its future plans, and collecting dues from satisfied customers.

OK, sure, you can’t equate God or spiritual enlightenment with, say, used tires or designer shoes.  You may not agree with even remotely considering the treatment of a church as a business because of it’s sacred foundation. But let’s be honest – there’s a lot of churches out there. And even if you feel yours is beyond reproach or any such consideration, you probably wouldn’t mind thumbing your nose down on some of the others out there. Episcopalians probably feel Protestant churches are the bees knees for example, but they don’t have the same motivation to protect Mormon temples. They’re like Division rivals. And then when you bring Shintoism, Sunnis and the Torah into the mix, well you probably tune the Episcopalian out altogether. Probably lose the Baptists, Catholics and Methodists as well.

So not all churches are sacred. Because if they were, then they’d all have equal worth in helping individuals seek inner-spirituality and harmony in life, and all would be equal paths to God. But clearly when you ask around, followers aren’t so broadly accepting. There’s a few right folks and a whole lot of wrong folks. And frankly it’s hard to tell as an innocent bystander.

Clearly churches have lots to say, and clearly they have a lot of frustration with that darned separation of church and state. When the various Catholic organizations rally against abortion, for example, they skate the line of church and lobby group. In fact, places of worship risk losing their 503c tax exemption if they tread public policy too much at the pulpit. I say, let’s alleviate this burden. Let every cleric, rabbi, imam and bishop speak clearly on anything they want. Let them condemn public restrooms. Let them rally against the month of February. Let them wage war against escalators. My point is, there’s a crazy train waiting to happen, and we’re missing a lot of good material. Can you really trust your spiritual leader until you know his or her stance on gay chipmunks?

Here’s another point: the Church… of… Scientology. That in itself is probably the best case for taxing churches. I can hardly say that phrase with a straight face. It’s like my tongue starts to form the “ch” sound at the beginning, and then a pale sickness washes through me and my brain wants to argue why it exists. Buddha, Abraham, Jesus, Mohamed – these folks have cred. But if you’re able to look past the fact that your religion was founded by a hack science fiction writer, a man paid to weave tales of fiction, then I’ve got a great timeshare opportunity for you in Boca Raton, Florida.

Exhale.

But I digress. These are fun notions to entertain. Of course nothing’s absolute, and there’s a lot of charitable activities that organizations of worship provide. Lord knows this isn’t a call to start taxing the United Way or the Red Cross, and clearly there’s a line to draw between organizations that do good, ones that do targeted good (here’s some bread, and look, a Bible!), and ones that simply grow (like the Ch… *choke*).

So, in this semi-facetious fashion, I gotta’ include a clip from Sarah Silverman. Certainly not what I’m proposing here, but hell if I can argue with the logic. You think Jesus ever envisioned a golden city in his name?

To put the notion in perspective, a quick look at what could show up on eBay.

The Vatican

Tiger Woods of Compassion

2009.08.22

I was just watching Real Time with Bill Maher where he was interviewing an author of books that examine how religious doctrine invades pragmatic, logical reason in very important levels of society. Bill himself did a movie recently called “Religulous”, a documentary that takes a look at the three Abrahamic religions and plays Devil’s advocate (no pun intended, honest) to a line up of their representatives. To put them into a socially recognizable bucket, they’re both Atheists – people that do not recognize God, and perhaps even refute His existence.

During the brief exchange, in reference to Jesus the author used the phrase “the Tiger Woods of compassion.” I liked that term a lot.

I’m originally Catholic, now just simply a practicing Catholic when the occasion arises and undecided the rest of the time. Growing up in Catholic school, I held the concept of Jesus – the story of his life – in very high regard. I just knew that to be a good person, I had to model  myself after his wisdom. The peculiar thing was, after 5 years of Catholic school, I hadn’t realized that I was being taught that Jesus wasn’t only Godly, he was God. I couldn’t catch on to this huge leap – the proverbial “leap of faith”, and I’ve been examining the whole idea ever since.

To don a socially recgonized term, you could call me an “agnostic.” I don’t refute or claim anything. Just a bystander, I suppose.

In a way, I’ve read into Jesus’s story from both perspectives: inside and outside Christianity. And although I’ve spent most of my time examining him from outside of a religious context, I find there’s just as much value in looking at his life and actions as they were in the real world as I would seeing him as the Son of God.

Obviously, others could disagree with this, but I’m referring to this focus: Jesus’s life as a model for human, ethical behavior. He was the Tiger Woods of compassion. He actively sought out the most downtrodden of the poor and sinful, he walked with beggars, he offered himself to everyone he could. You don’t need a religious doctrine to recognize ideal human behavior or to sense what is good and kind. I think anyone can appreciate Jesus’s emphatic teachings on loving they neighbor and caring for your fellow woman and man.

When I see this extolled in religious worship, it encourages me. It feels at times that people of faith get distracted from the conduct and morality that Jesus prescribed to us. I would hope the compassion he taught and demonstrated in life is the pivotal core and result of a person’s journey through Christianity, and it reassures me when I see it in others. Bottom line, I’d imagine you’re missing the most important part of Christianity if you don’t accept his humility and goodwill to all.

There’s a lot of role models in this world, and you don’t have to be a beleiver in order to recognize a good example when you see one. Whether you’re convinced Jesus’s story is an exact chronicle of his life or that it belongs in the fiction section of the library, it’s no less a good lesson on acting like a good human being, which is something we should all strive to be.