Who To Blame?

There is a Truth: in a "free"society those who end up leading us are those we "deserve" to have as leaders. If our federal, state and local leaders are all people who favor power for their own means rather than serving the people, it's because so many of us think the same way (even if we won't admit it to ourselves).

We must share the blame we lay on the president or congress for feathering their own political nests, resorting to childish, unproductive partisanism, or catering to special interest groups, because many of us do the same things in our own lives.

Remember, each of us is part of a special interest group. Even the "99%" is a special interest group in demanding changes that favor them.

We must share the blame we hurl at the rich, the corporations and the greedy CEOs because we practice that greed at our own level. We chose to be a Nation of Addicted Consumers by not thinking for ourselves, but letting others tell us that we needed wealth and material possessions to be "prosperous" and happy. Even our predominate faith, Christianity, has become a mouthpiece for gaining wealth and possessions.

 

 

Take a look at what Christmas has become, at how people behave on "Black Friday". Are we behaving any different from a CEO who lines his own pockets by laying off workers, raising prices, misusing funds and paying off politicians?

 

We must share the blame we hurl at other nations, or terrorist groups, who reject us, seek to undermine or destroy the "American Way of Life". We must consider the two aspects of our society I mention above, and how often we as a nation and as individuals assume that everyone else on the planet wants to be like us. So we impose our world view and values on others. Sometimes we do it by flooding another country with McDonald's restaurants and Pepsi and let them open up sweatshops in order to sell us the stuff we demand.

 

If that hasn't worked to our satisfaction, we sometimes find an excuse to use military force. Is killing thousands in another country truly a matter of protecting our own security? Those in that other nation certainly don't think so.

 

 

We grow alarmed as we see the police using escalating levels of violence against Occupy members and other situations. We lay the blame on the government. Is this really the case? The blame lies UPON ALL OF OUR SOCIETY. We have allowed a combination of unnatural pressures (from over-competitiveness to our economy to the food we eat), skewed sense of values and lack of wisdom to place ALL OF US into... stressful situations. We don't know how to properly handle the stress, so when we reach the "breaking point" we resort to violence because that is how we are conditioned to release the stress.

 

 

Are the cops who bust up protesters doing anything that different from the dad who slaps his kids, or the boss who yells at his employees, or the child who abuses the dog?

 

 

They are being human.

 

 

So to address such things we need to stop pointing fingers at others we think are the cause and look at how we, as a society, must change starting at the individual level, if we are ever to see real solutions.

 

 

You see, we are at a point where we are becoming the very thing we fear, the very sort of nation that in times past other people fled in order to find freedom here.

 

 

Many of the early colonists came to "The New World" because the wealthy of their homelands were also the ruling class, and they kept the greatest share of land and wealth for themselves. People came to Turtle Island so they could be free of Big Government and Big Business, hand in hand controlling their lives.

 

 

Later, people came to escape governments which gave no voice to the people. Government consisting of those who decided that the people served them, rather than they serving the people. Leaders who felt no shame at using their office for personal gain, no matter the cost to the citizenry. Leaders who viewed dissent as something to be squelched, violently if necessary, rather than something to heed.

 

 

Most of all, we are a nation in denial, and so must share the greater part of the blame.

 

 

We deny that on an individual level we use others, try to gain power, not to serve the community but for out own purposes.

 

 

We deny that on an individual level, we entertain our own greed in everything from the shoes we buy to the coffee we drink to the cars we drive, and we teach our children to do the same.

 

 

We deny that on an individual level, we are so violent and competitive that it's more satisfying to us to win a war than "win a peace". This happens at our most intimate relationships, with our spouses, children and parents.

 

 

So we deny that anything is wrong with ourselves: it's all someone else's fault that things aren't going the way we want (yet even that expectation is proof of the source of the problem in many people).

 

 

What's the solution?

 

 

First, start using our own minds to think and make informed decisions about everything from our jobs to the things we buy to how we treat our family and friends. Research the words and writing of wise people, past and present. Accept the fact that sources of wisdom ranging from the Bible to the words of Gandhi all can teach us much about Living Rightly.

 

 

Second, be willing to take personal responsibility for change. Be willing to make sacrifices in our own lives before we demand change and sacrifice for others. Listen more, talk less, slow down, think through whether an idea is really that good in the long run.

 

 

Third, stop thinking in the immediate. Many of the First Nations speak of the "Seventh Generation". One aspect of this is realizing that who we are and how we behave has been directly influenced by 3 generations before us and in turn will directly effect 3 generations following. Seriously think not just how our actions will affect our children, but our grandchildren and great grandchildren.

 

 

Fourth, be patient. Patience truly is a wonderful virtue that is in short supply. Patience not just to see things change (the changes we need will not occur in a single generation, much less in a 4 year presidential term of office) but also patience with those around us.

 

 

Fifth, stop thinking that blaming others is the same thing as working toward solutions. When 2 or more agree on something, it can be done...unless they decide to turn what they are doing into an "us vs them" situation in which they must first fix blame before they fix the problem.

 

 

In the end, all the blaming does is make those casting blame no different from those they are blaming.

 

 

Does this really solve anything?

 

 

No: it perpetuates the very problems that need solving because they were created by casting blame to begin with.

 

 

 

That's how I see things at least. Thanks for listening.

How Do We Forgive Our Fathers?

There's a great monologue at the end of the movie “Smoke Signals”. It asks the question, “how do we forgive our fathers?”. Then speaks of situations and reasons for forgiving. The first time I watched the movie I wondered about that monologue and put it in the perspective of the need for children of absentee or abusive fathers to come to terms with that aspect of their lives.

Then I reached a point in my life where I had to ask, and answer, the same question.

Without going into details, circumstances had forced me to really look at my own life, as my father's son, and how that had led me to the point in life where I was doing a lot of soul searching. A painful memory (not involving my father) I had long suppressed came to the surface during this time. I asked Creator why, what was the purpose of re-experiencing this? The answer surprised me, and in that surprise revealed why I needed to answer the question “How do I forgive my father?"


I grew up in a pretty normal, middle class American home. My father had a good job. We never lacked for anything, we lived in a nice home in a nice neighborhood and he made sure there would be money for college when the time came, etc. It was pretty much the American Ideal as seen on “Leave It to Beaver” or “Father Knows Best”. At least that's how I always remembered it.

He was the type who would toil for 30 years at a job that I would find dull and uninspiring, because to him, the rewards of the job and what it meant for his family made it worthwhile. I remember in High School, I asked for a new Euphonium. We could easily rent one from the school that was perfectly good but I wanted a specific horn. A top of the line Besson Satin Silver Euphonium. My father bought it for me. At the time I didn't really think in terms of the expense, just what it meant to me that he did buy it.

I was never abused, never neglected (though my father was not one for displays of affection, he felt he proved his love by being a good provider) never subjected to horrific arguments between my parents, or seeing my father come home drunk, or cheat on his wife. I was blessed to not have to deal with any of those tragedies.

An idyllic life, depending on your point of view.

So what do I need to forgive my father for doing, or not doing?

I had to forgive my father for being such a good father.

How is that possible?

Here's how: I spent most of my life trying to live up to his expectations. I wanted to become a musician: he said I couldn't earn a decent living at that. So to compromise I went into music education. “Being a teacher is a good profession” he said. I made some life mistakes which kept me from fulfilling that goal, and for 20 years after it was obvious my dad was disappointed.

I thought all that time he was disappointed in me, as his son. It was only when I started trying to answer this question about forgiveness that I realized he was really only disappointed in the choices I had made. I had spent 20 years of my life trying to win my father's approval, when I had never had his disapproval to begin with.

So, I had to learn to forgive my father for being human. He wasn't the ideal, Superman-like person I remember him as when I was a child. It was my image of him as Superdad that led me to think I had to match his life in some way to win his approval. He never expected me to be like him, beyond following is example in being responsible for my family. I have learned I was doubly blessed in this regard: so many sons have their lives chosen for them by overly controlling fathers.

So I forgave my father for being human. Was that enough? No, because the last line of the “Smoke Signals” monologue is “if we forgive our fathers, what's left?”.

What's left is forgiving ourselves. Too often, sons blame our fathers for placing expectations on us they never did. We must forgive ourselves for considering the image of our fathers to be more real than who they really were.

When sons do this, we are being unfair to our fathers in ways we don't realize until the day we look at our own sons and question what it is we really mean to them. We fault them for transgressions or failures that exist only in our own, 10 year old boy minds. Father and son are both held hostage by our own imaginings.

How do I forgive myself for this?

I'm still working that part out. I'll let you know when I have it down.

Rain

Powwow Time!

I had the pleasure of attending the 97th Annual Meskwaki Powwow on Aug. 13. It was made all the more pleasurable because I was there with my kids. Due to various factors, we only had about 4 hours to enjoy things. Not nearly enough time to really enjoy a powwow, but better than none at all (last year we were rained out on the day we went).

Powwows are interesting events. Natives understand that they are a time honored tradition in which relationships are established or strengthened and traditions maintained. They are at the very heart of our social structure, as well as (usually) holding deep spiritual signifigance.

This last part depends on the type of powwow. At competition powwows, the emphasis has come to be on the dancing, winning prizes and vendors making lots of cash. (It's important to consider that many vendors depend on a 4 to 6 month powwow season to provide the bulk of their income for the year). At a powwow such as the Proclamation Day powwow on the Meskwaki Settlement, the emphasis is on maintaing their heritage and culture and educating others about them.

Which is where the really interesting part comes in. People not familiar with powwows (read: typical non-Native tourist) think it's a show for them. It's not. They are invited to witness, and often participate in,  something that we would do anyway. (There are many powwows which are only open to members of the tribe and invited guests, and don't allow spectators).

Of course at any powwow, people are busilly snapping photos of the dancers, with all the bright colored regalia and various dance styles. In times past, I've done that. This year, I decided to take a different approach. I wanted to capture more of the emotions involved in those little moments when people aren't dancing for hundreds of spectators to see.

There is a lot that goes on behind the scenes of a powwow. The dancers are not performers, per se, because a powwow is not a "show" It's a unique cultural/social event that Native people have practiced in one form or another long before people started to pay to watch. The only reason we started charging admission to powwows was because for many years it was one of the few ways tribes could produce much needed revenue.

The dancers are average people, Native People, who want to maintain their traditional way of life as best they can. So when they aren't dancing, they are simply being human. Many powwows take place outdoors, in hot weather, and dancers who attend every session can spend 4 to 6 hours a day dancing. Depending on the style, this can be the same as running a 10K race every day. It can take a toll.

But for some reason, there are always powwow spectators who don't understand this. They think the dancers dress like that all the time. They imagine they still live in tipis, spend every night dancing around a fire and talk like Graham Greene delivering dialogue in "Dances with Wolves".

They don't.

When the powwow is over, they carefully store their regalia and go back to working their jobs, raising their kids and watching cable TV. They don't show up at the factory or office in their regalia. They may fix Hamburger Helper (goes good with fry bread!) or order pizza for dinner. While they may listen to drum groups in their off time, it could just as well be Lady Gaga, Kanye West or Travis Tritt playing on their iPods.

So here are a few shots from the powwow. They're black and white because I feel that's better at letting viewers see the people involved rather than seeing them only as performers in brightly colored regalia Not costumes, by the way. Costumes imply pretending to be something other than you are, such as a character in a play. Dancers are being themselves, participating in a social/spiritual gathering.

Regalia is carefully put together over months and years, with each component having special meaning or offering a story. Some items, such as eagle feather bustles, are passed down from one generation to the next. They are priceless heirlooms, all the more so because the federal government controls the distribution of eagle feathers, with a waiting list of about 5000 people and a wait time of 3 1/2 years.

  When you go to a powwow, whether for the first time or after many times, remember you are not watching a show or performance put on for your sake. You are a guest participating in a vital part of Native American society. A part which has been and will continue to evolve, while maintaining centuries old traditions. They are a way for us to pass down our language, culture and beliefs from one generation to the next, keeping our ways, and thus our identity as unique Nations, alive.

The Numbers Game?

A lot of people are not going to like what I have to say in this essay. Some of my Native relations aren't going to like it because it runs counter to what is, for some, a popular way of supporting their just contention that a massive, yet largely disregarded, genocide occurred in the Americans. And a lot of non-Natives won't like it because it points out why the genocide is disregarded.


Stirring trouble is expected from me. I am, after all, Mohawk, and we have a tradition of causing trouble for those who violate our sense of justice.

I'm referring to the estimates of the indigenous population of the Americas at the time of the arrival of Columbus, and during the ensuing centuries of conquest. This is a controversial topic, and the estimates vary widely from a low of 10 million made by historians at the end of the 19th Century, to as high as 100 million made by more contemporary advocates of the First Nations.

Calculating even a relative number is difficult because most of the First Nations kept nothing in the way of a written record of such things. Even those Nations which did have a form of writing, such as the Aztec, did not maintain a completely accurate census.

Why is the population at the onset of conquest so important? Because, in the colonist way of thinking, the numbers give a scale to the rightness-or wrongness-of what happened from 1492 onward. In colonist thinking, it's more acceptable to displace, rob and annihilate 10 million people than it is 100 million. Still, this is where-and why- I have an issue with Natives adapting the same mindset when declaring how many Native Americans were here when Columbus ran aground-and by inference, how many were killed by conflict or disease.

I studied archeology in high school. I'm familiar with the ways in which archeologists and anthropologists estimate population when clear written records are not extant. They do a pretty good job of it, even if cultural biases can interfere with their thinking at times. Estimates by contemporary researches into the area use a wide ranger of resources to come up with population totals ranging from a low of 18 million to a high of around 60 million. (From what I've seen, this variance depends on how accurate contemporary accounts of the Aztec and Inca empires were). The mean number tends to be around 30 million.

I think 30 million is about right. Given the way in which our ancestors lived, the historical condition of the land shows this number being the ideal level at which impact on the environment would be minimal. Not all Nations were wonderful stewards of the earth who had minimal impact on the ecosystem. The empires of Central and South America despoiled the land just as much as similar Nations in Europe did. Sound research shows that 100 million people-greater than the population of Europe at the time of Columbus-would have left a much bigger “footprint” both environmentally and in archeological evidence than is the case.

Granted, it can be argued that the majority of Native Americans lived a lifestyle that had less impact on the environment than their European contemporaries. Also, they were spread out across a geographical area five times as large as Europe. So it's not unreasonable to think that 100 million people could occupy the 16 million plus square miles of the Americas and leave little evidence behind of their presence.

However, my issue is not with the number itself, but why some Natives seem so intent on increasing the population to the maximum imaginable number. We want people to understand the scope of the crimes committed against the First Nations, of course. But do we have to get involved in a colonist-thinking Numbers Game to do so?

In Mohawk tradition, the life of a single person, taken unjustly, is a crime which effects the entire community. Great reparations would be demanded, or a war of retribution engaged in, in response to such a death. To our way of thinking, if there were only 18 million people on Turtle Island when conquest began, it's as much an injustice as if there were 100 million.

Unfortunately, colonist culture has a habit of making such assessements of the value of a human life relative to quantity. The murder of 10 people makes the news for a week or a month. Genocide against 800,000 becomes a movie. Genocide against 6 million becomes a tragic specter haunting a period of history. Therefore, genocide against 100 million must be an aspect of a Nation's history that demands immediate recognition and response, right?

Wrong on a couple of counts.

First, consider that those who commit the genocide in the name of conquest, and those who profit from it now, have a vested interest in disregarding the data. Especially if it happened far enough in the past that those who perpetrated it are long dead, and the resultant changes to the country so vast, as to make proper reparations impractical, if not impossible.

Second, overestimating the population of Natives can work against us, culturally. Consider how Europeans and Americans respond to genocides of the 20th Century. 6 million European Jews were killed during WW2. This is something that nearly every school child in the US is taught, and of which nearly every adult in the US is aware.

Now, how many of those same people are aware that Mao Ze-Dung murdered anywhere from 48 to 75 million of his own people during his reign in China? Not that many because, sadly, to a lot of people they are "just" Chinese and at the time the US didn't care if the Chinese communists were killing each other off. And now, the US is reluctant to bring it up because business with China is very profitable.

Or look at the response of Europe and the US to the genocide of 800,000 Rwandan Tutsis. The US government couldn't even admit to the genocide, using the term “acts of genocide” (what's the difference?) in vague official statements to justify not becoming involved. Europe and the US stood by and watched, using UN troops simply to ensure the evacuation of their own white citizens, without regard for what happened to the Rwandans. As a character in the movie “Hotel Rwanda” put it, the Rwandans didn't matter because not only were they black, but they were African.

So here's my thinking, as much as some may not like it. When Natives try to “high ball” the estimates of our population at the time of conquest, we are displaying the effects of colonization by playing the Numbers Game. I know we do so to try to overcome the indifference of people, hoping that if they are touched by the deaths of 6 million European Jews, they should be totally outraged by the deaths of 60 million Native Americans. But, to play Devil's Advocate, let me ask this question:

Isn't this in essence saying that it takes 10 Native Americans to add up to the importance of 1 European?

Isn't this sort of devaluation and trivialization what we have suffered from for over 500 years? Wasn't it the colonists' who declared that we were worth less than they were, so it was acceptable to take our land, enslave and murder our people, then act like it was all doing us a favor as they “tamed” the land and made it profitable?

Let's be accurate in our presentation of data regarding the First Nations. Let's realize that the number of people who will respond accordingly are few. Let's not let the colonization rob us of any more of our identities than has already happened. If we get too wrapped up in the Numbers Game, we have to play it the way those who are masters of it do. In doing that, we become too much like those who would destroy us altogether.

In Mohawk tradition, according to the Gayanashagowa, The Great Law of Peace of the Haudenosaunee, the unjust death of a single person is the same as the death of the entire community in importance. Let us maintain that noble thinking, and take our own measures to redress the deaths of so many, rather than try to win the Numbers Game with a people who compare those numbers to a profit margin anyway.

What Lies Within

What do you think when you see this photo? What emotions does it evoke? What assumptions or conclusions do you draw about the subject?

Does this photo alarm you, create a sense of fear or apprehension? Do you imagine the man in the photo could be a threat to you?

Or do you think that perhaps the subject is someone who is hiding the effects of an injury or disease, or simply is apprehensive and fearful himself? Or just plain shy?

You know, 30 years ago the average person would have imagined this was a meant to be a ghost. Or perhaps a Christian would have thought it a photo of a biblical leper.

Nowadays, the first reaction most people have is "Radical Muslim/Terrorist". (Except for one gamer acquaintance who said  "Dude, it's the guy from Assassin's Creed").

All this tells me this photograph "works". It works because it causes people to think, to go beyond simply looking at it and deciding whether it's a pretty picture or not. However, the photo alone reveals what lies within the viewer far more than what lies within my own heart.

So who is the guy in the shroud, glaring out at you?

It's a self portrait. That's me beneath the sheet.


I took this photo in response to someone suggesting that because my birth mother was Lebanese Arab, I might have a bit of the terrorist in me (never mind that she was Maronite Catholic, not an extremist Muslim). Those who know me would (and did) laugh at that notion.

The idea is I took someone else's prejudice and turned it around in a way that I hope would make her rethink things. That's what any art should be about: leading the viewer or listener to do some rethinking about things. Whether it's the world in general, a specific subject....or the audiences own way of thinking...art should be about growing and experiencing things together that we would not otherwise experience without it.

So I hope this photo leads you to an experience that you would not have had if you'd never seen it. Ideally, that experience will be about gaining a better understanding of what lies within your own heart.  If it does, I've lived up to my name for a moment.

Nia:wenkoha,
Rain

Time to Own Up

I've let this blog just sit here for over a year. My friend Nadia has inspired me to do more than let things sit. I have a lot of things I want to share with my relations-words, images, music, ideas-so I'm going to work on making this something that puts it all together. I guess, I hope, it's going to be a "multimedia blog" as I tie all the talents Creator has given me together to fulfill the responsibility those talents lay upon me.

Make no mistake, talent does impose responsibility. Creator drove that point home to me over the past few months. A lot of it I owe to Nadia, because she is the sort of Type A person who is always doing something creative, always has plans and goals. As I helped her to reach some of those goals, and saw how much we share, I realized I was squandering much of what I have been given.

Ever have the Spirit speak to you in an unexpected way? I was watching the movie "Fame" and there's the scene where piano prodigy Bruno Martelli is saying he doesn't need anyone to listen to his music. His instructor says "That's not art, that's masturbation."

Then I read an article that said that the only real value of a photograph is in what it says to those who view it.

So here I am, realizing I have been gifted with some modicum of talent in 3 disciplines, and I've spent years thinking they were mostly intended for my own enjoyment. Now the curious part is a sort of false humility is the cause of that. I never thought I was nearly as good a storyteller/writer/communicator, photographer or musician as others said. (Ok I'll admit that when I was in high school and college I knew I was a better than average musician). I've come to realize that when "humility" leads us to let Creator's gifts to us, languish, bearing no fruit, then it's not humility at all. It's the pride of thinking that we might fail. Fail because we depend on our own whiles rather than letting the gift shine forth.

Letting such gifts shine forth requires discipline, and I started eschewing that because I was foolishly proud enough to think I didn't need to fulfill the responsibility my talents require of me.

Now I'm not talking about becoming the sort of egocentric prima donna that so many talented people become, assuming they have the right to do so. That's foolishness. Gifts from Creator are just that, gifts, and so should be treated with due respect. Held as sacred. Nurtured and developed the same way parents raise a child. Then offered to the world not as a way of getting rich or promoting self, but of saying "Creator has given me this gift, and now I pass it on to you.

So my plan is to offer the 3 gifts I bear, words, images and music, as best I can. I realize the 3 are meant to be joined together, much as the Three Sisters (corns, beans and squash) were cultivated together by my Mohawk ancestors.

I hope I am up to it, and stay true to the vision Creator has given me.

Nia:wen,
Rain

World Ends at 6PM-Film at 11

So, all this talk about the Rapture and such got me thinking about some things I've been taught about the Bible. What came to mind was the teaching that the Bible must be literally true in all aspects, What came to mind was the teaching that the Bible must be literally true, in all aspects, for us to have real faith. If any part of the Bible can be doubted to be literal, then "God is a liar". (If you wonder why I thought of that, just consider the justification people gave for the May 21 Rapture date).



I used to believe that everything in the Bible had to be literally true. If not, how could we trust God? Then, some "heretical" teachings from some Native relations, along with life events which really challenged my faith, led me to reconsider the my position.


The argument (oh excuse me, professional Christianese for argument is “apologetics”) for a literally true Bible is this: if we doubt a passage such as Genesis giving a literal account of Creation-with six days of twenty four hours and such-then we have reason to doubt everything else in the Bible. This includes the very existence and nature of God as well as the Truth of Christ. This makes sense, at least if you approach the Bible in the same way a scientist approaches formulating an theory, or a detective investigates a crime.


Are we really supposed to approach Creator, and the Bible, in such a way? That same Bible tells us we must lay aside what seems “logical” and come to our Father as little children. I don't recall ever coming to my father when I was a child and interrogating him regarding the truth of his statements that he loved me, would care for me, would protect me and yes, would discipline me if I misbehaved. I accepted that what he was saying was true because he was my father. Why should he lie to me?


Ok, sure, it wasn't long before I figured out the truth about Santa Claus. But uncovering that playful fantasy didn't make me think dad lied about the really important things. In fact, as I grew older and realized that how I interpreted things dad said changed as I grew in my own knowledge of the world didn't make what he said untrue. It simply made my own interpretation of it suspect.


This realization led me to the above-mentioned challenge to my faith. It wasn't some dire event in which I felt Creator had abandoned me. Even in my worst times, I always felt His Presence and saw His hand at work in my life. No, it was looking at my own reasons for believing that led to doubting my faith. I didn't doubt my Father, but my own justification for having faith in Him.


For years I had been the sort who could use strong, logical arguments to uphold the literal truthfulness of the Bible. “God said it, I believe it, that settles it”, as the bumper sticker says. If there were inconsistencies in the Bible, (such as the incredibly high population figure for the Hebrews at the time of Exodus, which no archaeological or contemporary record substantiates) it was because I lacked faith. True faith meant I would take the Bible literally and come up with excuses-or simply go into denial-about anything that contradicted some aspects of scripture.


That hard case attitude never seemed to bring comfort when I most needed it. When I found myself crying out to Creator by reminding Him that the Bible promised me something, I felt empty, as though I was telling my earthly father I loved him while planning on not doing what he told me to do.


When I simply cried out “Father, I don't understand what is happening. Help me understand, or at least help give me peace about it all”, then I felt His strong, comforting presence. Maybe it's just me, but I found that acting like a child who couldn't handle things on my own brought me much closer to Creator God than when I tried to bolster my own faith by using the Bible like a field manual.


What I came to see was that declaring the Bible to be an ironclad, court-accepted proof of God's trustworthiness can actually be antithetical to the child-like faith we are called to have. As Hebrews 6 tells us, He wants us to believe that He is, and rewards those who diligently seek Him. I'm of the mind that such belief doesn't need any provenance other than what is in the heart of a child. Creator tells me the Truth because He is my Father and so has no reason to lie to me.


As I see it, if we put too much stock in the Bible being literally true, to the point that if someone could unequivocally prove a part of it to be false we would then come to doubt God, do we really have faith in Him? Could it be instead that we have faith in our imperfect record of Him? Is our insistence that the Bible has to be literally true for us to have faith in Creator more a matter of our own ego than real, child-like faith.


I think of the movie “Big Fish” in which the main character has spent his life disbelieving his father's supposed tall tales. It's alienated him from his father, and it's not until just before the old man's death that the son comes to accept the stories not because they are true, but because his father told them. So there must be a reason why he did. Then it turns out every story the son thought was just a fantasy had a basis in truth and fact.


Here's what I think: strength of faith isn't that we accept something in the Bible as literally true just because it's in the Bible. Rather, strength of faith is found when we decide that even if we concede that certain parts of the Bible can't be reconciled with “facts”, we still accept the Truth behind it because that Truth is a Living Word Who comes from the Father.


I don't dismiss the importance of the Bible: I read it and listen to audio versions regularly. What is different is this: before, my faith flowed “from” the Bible and toward God, so to speak. It came from staunchly believing that it was literally true. Now, my faith flows from Creator into everything else in my life. I believe the core Truth of the Bible because I trust Creator, even if parts of the Bible don't seem literally true.


To me it doesn't matter if it took a literal six days to make the earth or not. Whether every word in the Bible is literally true or not no longer effects what I believe in my heart about Creator. I have experienced too much the Truth for my faith in Creator to depend on apologetics used to justify a literal Genesis account, or whether 2.5 million or 25,000 Israelites left Egypt.


The Bible says we should give up childish things as we mature into spiritual adults. Consider, perhaps, that a lot of the arguing about the literalness of the Bible is more like a couple of kids arguing about whose dad would win a fight, rather than really growing into the child-like faith we are called to have.

That's what's on my heart. Thanks for listening.