There was this guy who was stranded alone on a remote island for many years until a passing ship finally rescued him. The various buildings he had constructed for himself amazed the ship’s crew:

“So what is that place?” they asked.

“That’s my house” he replied.

“And that place over there?”

“That’s my shower and my outhouse.”

“And the oval area over there?”

“That’s a track that I run around daily.”

“And the big building with the steeple?”

“That’s my church.”

The crew looked puzzled. “Well, if that’s your church then what’s the bigger building with the even taller steeple?”

“Oh,” he said, “that’s the church I used to belong to.”

Since I first heard this joke many years ago, I have considered it the perfect commentary on the ultimate weakness of Protestantism.  As the Anglican Church in North America (a group recently split from the Episcopal Church, USA and the Anglican Church in Canada) wrapped up their inaugural conference today I am reminded of this joke again. That I am in the midst of Diarmaid MacCulloch’s epic The Reformation is no coincidence.

As a member of a church born out of the Reformation, I can tell you this: the true spirit of Protestantism has always been, (with apologies to Martin Luther, as this wasn’t his intent): “Here I stand and there I go, right out the door to start my own church.” First there was a single Protestant movement, then Luther and Zwingli disagreed over the Eucharist and we got the Lutheran and the Reformed traditions, then some folks thought only adults should be baptized and thus came the Anabaptists. Each disagreement brought a new split and each split produced a new denomination. Today there are over a thousand and they just keep splitting. The eventual result: one billion churches with one member each.

If I weren’t such a “catholic” at heart, I might be happy with the First (and Only) Church of David Ozab. No messy disagreements, no music I didn’t like, and no getting up early for church. “St. Mattress by the Bedsprings” would serve just fine on Sunday morning, and if I happen to fall asleep no one will poke me in the ribs. But I know I am called to something else: a community.

And so, despite my issues with the Vatican over clerical celibacy, women’s ordination, contraception, and gay rights, I am seriously looking at the only church (in the Western tradition anyway) that for all its faults has taken Christ’s command to “love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12) seriously. I am considering joining the Roman Catholic Church for the same reason another critic of the Church, Desiderius Erasmus, decided to remain in communion with Rome:

“Therefore I will put up with this Church until I see a better one; and it will have to put up with me, until I become better.” (The Reformation, p. 152)

Here we stand; we can do no other.
God help us all. Amen.

A little over twenty years ago I attended a rally at the Price Center at UC San Diego. Several hundred of us gathered in the plaza in memory of the Chinese students killed a few days earlier in Tiananmen Square. We all wore black armbands as a sign of mourning.

There were several speakers that day and most of what they said has long since faded from memory with one notable exception: a woman stood up, took the microphone and asked us all to look around at each other. She paused for a moment and then added “if you had been in Tiananmen Square that night, you would all be dead.”

Those words have haunted me for two decades. Seeing the hundreds of thousands of protestors throughout Iran contesting a highly suspicious election brought it all back again, and I began fearing the worst.

Then I remember what else happened in 1989: The fall of the Berlin Wall and the Soviet retreat throughout Eastern Europe. The protests in Berlin began the same way those in Beijing did, but the result was very different.

At this point, no one knows what will happen next. I just pray that Tehran will be the next Berlin, not the next Beijing.

I took my daughter to an indoor playground today—one in a nearby shopping mall that we visit regularly. While watching her interact with the other kids, I noticed one boy in particular. He was probably five or six, friendly, generally well behaved, and sporting a mohawk.

It’s not the first time I’ve seen a young child at a playground with his hair shaved in a mohawk. At least they’ve all been boys so far. (I hope there aren’t any parents out there who think it’s a good idea to turn their daughters into miniature versions of the singer from Bow Wow Wow. ) Seeing the boy today reminded me of the others I’d seen before and it got me wondering?

If your parents give you a mohawk in Kindergarten, how are you going to rebel against them when you’re a teenager? When I was young it was so much easier. I just grew my hair long and annoyed my parents for two years without ever getting in any serious trouble. If I’d gotten a mohawk, I think my Mom would have had a heart attack.

What’s a teenager to do now? Get a piercing? Mom will tell you how “that one hurt, but this one hurt way more.” Get a tattoo? Dad will show you his and say “it's about time I got another one.” Hip huggers and pants hanging off your butt? Only if you want to look like your Mom still buys your clothes for you.

I’m wondering if some parents think deep down that their kids won’t rebel against them if they remain rebellious teenagers themselves. Sorry, but it doesn’t work that way.  Rebellion is part of growing up and what ever you are, your kids will want to be different just to get a rise.

So unless you want your child to come home one day saying “I’m a Republican” or “I want to be a corporate lawyer” or “Would you be interested in a copy of The Watchtower?” then get the poor kid a normal haircut already.

“This is the first step in the Democrats’ plan to import terrorists into America.”
—House Minority Leader John Boehner, in a statement.

Taken from last night’s episode of Countdown, this quote was one of several highlighting Congressional Republican attempts to stall or completely thwart President Obama’s plan to close Gitmo. In light of today’s fatal shooting at the U.S. Holocaust Museum, this quote takes on an entirely different meaning.

We don’t have to import terrorists into America, Mr. Minority Leader, when we have a thriving domestic terrorist industry. Just last week, Dr. George Tiller was killed.  His accused murderer has ties to both anti-abortion extremists and a radical militia group. Back in April, three Pittsburgh Police officers were killed and two others injured by an individual who frequented a white supremacist web site. His concerns included Obama, Zionist conspiracies, and gun bans.

Domestic terrorism is nothing new. Before 9/11, the worst terrorist attack on American soil was the Oklahoma City Bombing. The Supermax prison in Florence Colorado holds both radical Islamic terrorists and homegrown right wing extremists (as well as radical leftist Ted Kaczynski, aka The Unabomber, and some of the most dangerous mob figures).

But in the wake of last year’s Presidential campaign and the various conspiracy theories surrounding then Senator Obama—theories that some on the right have encouraged—domestic terrorism, particularly of the ultra right, white supremacist, pseudo-fascist variety is bound to increase. A report from the Department of Homeland Security saying exactly that was dismissed by many on the right as political propaganda.

Does it sound like propaganda now? Or to paraphrase the House Minority Leader, is this the first step in the Republicans’ plan to manufacture terrorists in America?

Mr. Boehner?
Mr. McConnell?
Mr. Gingrich?
Mr. Limbaugh?
Mr. Hannity?
Mr. O’Reilly?
Ms. Palin?
Anyone?

In the wake of the murder of Dr. George Tiller, I am reminded of a political ad that ran during the last presidential campaign. It criticized Senator John McCain and his party for failing to apply their “pro- life” position beyond the narrow window covering conception to birth. The ad was touting what is known in Catholic Theology as the Consistent Life Ethic and it’s tag line was “Pro-life means all life.” This ethic, developed by the late Joseph Cardinal Bernardin, has deep roots in the Church going all the way back to the teaching and examples of Christ. It is supported by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) and was advocated by John Paul II during his papacy.

According to the Consistent Life Ethic you are not pro-life if:

1. You support the death penalty.
2. You support war (or violence in general) as anything other than a last resort.
3. You instigate violence against others, either openly (calling for assassination) or covertly (through inflammatory rhetoric).
4. You knowingly support actions that undermine social and economic justice or worse yet engage in such actions yourself.

Sadly, I have seen all the above supported (and in some cases perpetrated) by people and organizations that call themselves pro-life. For example:

1. George W. Bush (our last “pro-life” president) presided over a record number of executions while governor of Texas.
2. A large majority of Conservative Evangelicals supported going to war in Iraq, even as the Pope and the USCCB were pleading with the Bush Administration not to.
3. Fox News Channel in general and Bill O’Reilly in particular regularly demonized Dr. Tiller, abortion providers in general, and any “pro-choice” politicians (as long as they were Democrats). Despite this tragedy, they will continue to do so.
4. The supposedly pro-life political party has consistently advocated for the wealthiest at the expense of everyone else (but especially the poorest) while hypocritically claiming the moral high ground.

This is not an attack on the pro-life position in general, neither is it a defense of the pro-choice position (or the usually pro-choice political party), which I believe has often minimized the moral dilemma that accompanies choice (and simultaneously marginalized the life in the womb). It is simply a comment on hypocrisy (the sin Jesus condemns most frequently in the Gospels) followed by a prayer: for Dr. Tiller, for his family in their grief, for the alleged murderer and his family, and for a group of people who need to stop looking for specks in others' eyes just long enough to find the log in their own. And finally to remember that, at some point or another over some issue or another, we all fall into that category.