Book Of Revelation: 'Visions, Prophecy And Politics'

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In her new book Revelations: Visions, Prophecy and Politics in the Book of Revelation, Princeton University religious professor Elaine Pagels places the Book of Revelation in its historical context and explores where the book's apocalyptic vision of the end of the world comes from.

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Fascinating interview. I was first introduced to Dr. Pagels’ work more than twenty years ago when I was studying religion and philosophy at WVU. One of my religious studies professors said that Pagels posed an important question to modern Christianity--is orthodox Christianity complete, or have significant, even crucial elements been forgotten? I was reminded of that as I listened to her speak of how virtually anyone who reads the Book of Revelation in a literal way can cast themselves as being one of the “good guys” and those who oppose them as demonic, and how this is a dangerous way of viewing human conflict. If both sides in a dispute view themselves as absolutely right, then there is little chance of peaceful resolution.

Toward the end of the interview, she went on to talk about how she outgrew her teenage flirtation with evangelical Christianity. She explained how there is a certain draw to seeing yourself as belonging to a group of “good people” and thinking that the nameless, faceless masses outside the gates represent dark forces, and how there’s a certain draw to thinking you have joined a group that has absolute answers to fundamental questions, but she realized that this way of thinking wasn’t for her when she was told that a Jewish friend was going to hell.

Finally, Dr. Pagels speaks of other books of revelation that are not included in the Christian cannon, that lie beyond orthodoxy, which do not present a good v. evil worldview that divides human beings and pushes us toward battle, but presents all of us, including beings that aren’t human, as part of a spiritual whole.

Mass Appeal (1984)

I watched Mass Appeal (1984) earlier. I guess it’s been largely forgotten. There are no clips or trailers available on YouTube, and there’s no discussion of it on IMDb. But I happen to think it’s a very good film. I first saw it over 25 years ago when it first came out, and I’ve seen it a number of times since. I used to have a copy on VHS. Jack Lemmon plays Father Farley, a priest from an apparently affluent parish. He enjoys the perks--the nice gifts, invitations to dinner, convivial conversations with educated people--and he tries to get by on charm. His housekeeper, played by Louise Latham, seems like a pious stick in the mud at first, but she proves to be a loyal friend. Charles Durning plays Monsignor Burk, a pigheaded, small-minded, homophobic jerk who rules over the local seminary as if he were an absolute monarch. Zeljko Ivanek plays Mark Dolson, a headstrong seminarian who has a history of challenging authority, the status quo, and, as we discover, used to fool around with both men and women before deciding he wanted to become a priest. Great acting all around, and the writing is good--it’s poignant but also at times very funny. Ivanek also happened to be very pleasant to look at back in the early 80’s--very slim, cute, boyish face, and, since his character was a runner, he wore short shorts in a couple of scenes which showed off his deliciously long legs.

Getting Too Big For Your Breeches

Back in the mid 90’s when I was in Chestnut Ridge Hospital, which is a psychiatric hospital, I used to share my meals in the dayroom with a woman who suffered from anorexia. As you can imagine, while I ate she mainly nibbled. Most of the patients ate downstairs in the cafeteria, but I wasn’t allowed to leave the locked ward because I was suicidal, and my dinning companion wasn’t required to eat in the cafeteria because the smell of food made her nauseous. She was a quiet, understated kind of person, so it didn’t take me long to feel comfortable enough to chat with her. I was curious about her condition, so I asked her questions about it. When did it start? When did people start noticing? How long has it been causing you problems? This woman was--or had been--a nurse and was used to answering medical questions with some precision, so she was a font of knowledge, and the topic gave me something to fall back on. I was grateful for this because I have social phobia, so small talk isn’t exactly my forte.

But one day I asked about the meal she was often served, animal crackers and skim milk. This meal struck me as rather bland, not at all something you would serve someone who had a hard time eating. This woman was starving to death and they were giving her c-rations. She explained that the meal provided sufficient protein to keep her hair from falling out, but it contained a minimum amount of calories, which was about all she could force herself to eat. I noticed a change in her expression when she explained this to me. She didn’t quite bristle. I wouldn’t go that far. But I detected that she was tired of having to explain herself, to justify the way she was. And I suspected that she wasn’t just tired of me asking questions but that she was tired of people in general feeling free to quiz her about her weight, her diet and appetite. I never brought up the topic again.

Although I was far from anorexic, I understood her sensitivity. Just about all of my life weight has been an issue. For decades I have fluctuated between being a bit chubby and being seriously obese. Strangely enough, I was rather puny between the ages of five and eight. I was sickly, and the doctor was always telling my mother that I was underweight and that I needed to eat more. My mother suffered from paranoid schizophrenia, which was not being treated at that time even though she was my primary caregiver, and she never went to college or had access to books on nutrition. So rather than trying to get me to eat a greater volume of healthy foods, she treated me to junk food--Hershey Bars, chocolate milk, Coke. I was never refused these things.

After I had my tonsils out, my health stabilized, and I began to gain weight. Just a little at first, but by the time I was in middle school, I was a pretty chunky kid. The fact that I was inactive compounded the problem. I had already realized that I was different from other boys, so being around them made me uncomfortable. And back then, boys and girls usually didn’t play sports together, and as a result, I grew to hate sports. I saw sports as a threat. I feared that on the playing field, in the company of all those boys, my difference would become glaringly obvious. I was terrified of exposure. So I avoided sports. In addition to that, my social phobia was quite severe. I was afraid of being away from the house because of the likelihood of having to deal with a social situation. Merely walking would mean I would run into people. And I would have to decide to either look at them or down at the ground. If they spoke to me, I would have to think of something to say. And if someone threatened me--and bullies did that fairly regularly--when I was by myself, I might have to physically defend myself. So I was pretty much a homebody with a sweet tooth who had a virtual unlimited access to goodies.

By the time I got to high school, I became concerned with my looks. There was very little chance of me finding a boyfriend or even a friend with benefits, but I had hope, at least hope for the future, so I began to watch what I ate. And much to my delight, the pounds came off. I never managed to become as thin as the boys I was most attracted to, but I was no longer fat.

When I got to college, I managed to find the more or less hidden gay community there within a few weeks, and the gay boys noticed me. Many took an interest. I discovered that all I had to do was show up at the local gay bar, sip a Coke while holding up a wall, and boys would come to me. A number of them even took me home. I was flattered by the attention, the compliments, and even the sex. But I soon discovered that quite a number of boys felt it was their duty to inform me that I was “too” chubby. Guys would buy me drinks, stroke my cheek, dance with me, tell me that my face was cute, my smile was great, my eyes beautiful, and then they would lower the boom. They’d tell me if I was just twenty pounds lighter, I would be perfect. Some would even say something along those lines after having sex with me. It was humiliating. But I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything different because I was getting the same thing from straight people, even straight guys. I was told many times in a number of ways that I would be good looking if I just lost some weight.

The thing of it is, I was already watching what I ate. I was regularly going hungry. I would go to bed with my stomach growling. And as I’ve already explained, there were reasons why I wasn’t more active. Running or going to the gym would have made me feel conspicuous. And even though I walked all over the college town of Morgantown, it wasn’t enough to burn off that spare twenty pounds.

Maybe the criticism would not have been so devastating if I hadn’t taken it to heart, but the thing of it is, I have always been wildly attracted to slim young men. Many go for the jocks, some go for big muscles, some like a hairy chest, but I went for the wispy guys, the guys who seemed a bit delicate, a bit feminine. And back when I was young, I had this unexamined, irrational notion tumbling around in the back of my head that I had to look like what I wanted.

While in college, I longed to be 120 pounds because I had learned that’s how much Michael J. Fox weighed, and like me, he was 5’4” and I thought he was cute. But that goal proved to be allusive. And not long after that, all the years of living in an abusive environment caught up with me, and my mental health deteriorated. My social anxiety, mood swings, severe depression made taking care of myself all the more difficult, so little by little, I gave up. At 18 I was about 140 pounds. By 20 I was 190. By 22 I was over 200. And by 24 I was over 240.

Over the years a lot of concerned people have talked to me about my weight. My grandmother used to give me religious tracts about how Jesus can help you lose weight. People have freely given me diet and exercise tips. Strangers have come up to me at bus stops and told me how I can lose weight. Friends have earnestly told me that they wish I would take better care of myself so that I won’t die an early death. Absolutely none of it helped. In fact it only made things worse. I was getting the same message I was getting from those boys who picked me up in the gay bar back in college: “You’re okay, but you’re not quite good enough.”

I assure you that a person almost never needs you to tell them they have a weight problem. They know. And rarely does anyone need you to advise them on how to live in a healthy way. My friend from the hospital was a nurse. She knew that she was doing damage to her health by trying to get by on animal crackers and skim milk. She knew. A lack of knowledge was not her problem. And it’s never been my problem either. Nor have I suffered from a lack of needling and goading, or a lack of shame and rejection. If you know someone who has a weight problem, I think the best thing you can do for them is to simply butt out. Accept your friend for who and what they are. If they want your advise or your support--a walking buddy, a drive to Weight Watchers--they’ll ask for it.

Back in my mid 30’s, I did manage to get my weight under control, and I kept the weight off for a number of years. I went from 310 pounds all the way down to 160. I did it all by myself. I began watching what I ate again, and I started walking. At the time, I lived in Fayetteville, WV, and the town park, the cemetery, and nature trails maintained by the National Park Service that led down into the New River Gorge were all within ten minutes of my house. Following my head surgeries, I realized I wanted to live, and there were things I wanted to do, including hiking and backpacking. In time I was able to walk three and four hours at a time. I was fit enough to go backpacking, but I was apprehensive about doing it alone.

Since moving to California, following the death of my parents, the weight has sadly come back. Merced doesn’t have any alluring places for me to walk. And I turned to food in my grief and the anxiety I felt at being alone in the world. I now realize that insecurity about money also played a significant role. I crave high calorie foods at the start of the month when my Social Security check comes in because I fear money will run out and I’ll be stuck with nothing but saltines and water by the 20^th.

I’ve not given up hope. I already know I can lose weight. I’ve done it before, so I can do it again. Maybe getting down to 120 is unrealistic, but 150 or 160, yeah, I can do that. I will do that if I live long enough.

To Be Young, Healthy and Beautiful

To Be Young, Healthy and Beautiful

A poem by Gary Cottle

Ah, to be young, healthy and beautiful.
To only have just begun your journey.
To have the support of parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles.
To have homes and arms open to you where ever you go.
To have strangers smile at you with wistful gladness on learning you are 18, 19 or 20.
To have them wish you well without hesitation and offer to help you succeed if they can.
To know that you will never be in want of a date for long and that you will likely have to turn some away.
To believe you are going somewhere and that you will do good things, great things, things people will talk about.
To have the road ahead stretch out so far the end is almost unfathomable.
To be more concerned with the route than the destination, and to have insurmountable hope that your adventure will be a happy one.
To go back and have this all again without being afraid that you’re not good enough, that you’ll never measure up, that you don’t deserve the gift of being young.
To never have heard the putdowns.
To never have believed them.
To have had confidence.
To have been loved and nurtured not in spite of who you are, but because of it.
To have been told by the people who matter that you are on the right path.
To have had them not try to hold you back.
To have been allowed to make your way without shame, guilt or fear.
To have started out on that road knowing that you will be accepted.
To have been nascent with an unburdened heart.
To have been yourself from the start.

Drinking Game…

You have to take a shot every time a Christianist indicates he doesn’t know that the amount of birth control pills a woman takes is not proportional to the amount of sex she has, claims marriage equality will lead to people marrying inanimate objects, suggestions that Sharia Law has already been implemented in a small, Midwestern town, or warns that President Obama isn’t really a Christian.

Piers Morgan says Kirk Cameron was "Brave" to make antigay remarks. Brave? Really?

Piers Morgan: Kirk Cameron Was "Brave" to Make Antigay Remarks

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Would Morgan call a white supremacist brave?  Does he think Rush Limbaugh is brave?  Kirk Cameron is a Hollywood failure.  He became widely known playing a dim, ignorant young man over twenty years ago on the TV sitcom Growing Pains.  The reason Cameron could play Mike Seaver so well is because the role wasn't a stretch.  Cameron is pretty dim and ignorant himself, so most of America lost interest after his teenage cuteness wore off, but, to give the devil his due, Cameron was smart enough to milk his celebrity for all it's worth by going on to play for the Christianist crowd after his mainstream gig ran its course.  The Christianists love him, and they keep the money coming in.  So long as Cameron continues to tell them what they want to hear, they'll continue to pay for the roof over his head and the groceries in his pantry.  Cameron may very well believe the hateful nonsense he espouses, but it's hardly brave of him to preach it considering fellow haters have been rewarding him handsomely for doing just that for a couple of decades.

The question is why does Piers Morgan invite bigots like Kirk Cameron on his show and ask them to pontificate about their views on homosexuality?  Why does someone as stupid as Cameron get to have a platform to spew hate about me and people like me?  Morgan may want us to believe he's an objective interviewer who allows his guests to express all kinds of opinions about LGBTs on his show, including negative ones, even though he's okay with LGBTs himself, but it seems he's really just after ratings because he wants to hoover up the money...and LGBTs be damned. 

   

Is "The Fall" something that has outlived its usefulness, like Hell and the Devil?

I think a lot of our sex phobia, including homophobia, comes from the concept of The Fall. Augustine directly linked Original Sin with sex, but barring his theology, if you accept the idea that we live in a fallen world, then you’re likely to question that mechanism by which people come into this supposedly fallen world, even if it’s merely on a subconscious level. The concept is all around us. It’s drilled until us. We’re told the world isn’t what it should be. If you listen to someone like Rick Santorum, you get the feeling that he sees life as some kind of duty, that getting married, having sex and producing children is a chore. And the fall isn’t just a Christian concept. It’s in Plato’s writings, too, for instance.

But I’ve grown to question it. I’m sure that it still works on me in hidden ways because the idea permeates our culture, but the more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make any sense. Why would a god purposely create a punishing world and put us through the mill? I realize that according to Christian dogma, humanity is being punished for supposed wrongdoing, but I think that explanation has more to do with our need to find a reason for suffering. There is plenty of suffering in the world, at least from our vantage point. It’s easy for us to imagine a world that, to us, would be better than this one--one without war, disease, death… But if there is more to the world than meets the eye, then maybe all of the horrible things that can happen to us are part of life for reasons that have nothing to do with punishment. Maybe the world isn’t fallen at all. Maybe we’re not born sinners who are in need of saving.

I think the belief that we live in a fallen world serves to make people feel guilty and worthless, and I think it serves to make them vulnerable to flimflam artists who promise to show them a way out. I think it might also make people feel ashamed of enjoying the pleasures of the world too much. There seems to be a masochistic element that runs through all of Christian history starting with the martyrs. I’m always struck by how joyless the artwork from the Middle Ages is. The Puritans weren’t exactly a barrel of laughs. And here come gay people who want to form relationships and have sex not out of a sense of duty but for the pleasure of it. They want to take delight in their existence for its own sake and not to fulfill some purpose that is meant to be a drudgery for having the temerity of showing up in this supposedly awful place.