Sikh Center Fragments

I visited our local Sikh gurdwara (called a "Sikh Center") here in town about a month ago.

Here are the fragments:

I had called about two weeks prior to inquire about the best worship time to come to. It was an awkward phone call but I didn't let it dissuade me from coming. Most Sikhs I have met have all been friendly folks.

Besides, I was looking to expand my checklist.

 Here are the significant religious places/events I have experienced in life thus far:

• Buddhist Monastery - Chanting Service & Meal (Monks were from Thailand)
• Buddhist Meditation Center - Meditation Open House (a Shambala Center)
• Hindu Temple (Vaishnavism)
• Mosque (Islam, for those that don't know, Sunni for those scoring at home)
• Eid al-Fitr Celebration Dinner  (End of Islamic Ramadan - Turkish Cultural Center)
• Reformed Synagogue (however, I was not there for a worship service)

I arrived early for the two-hour service as I was meeting a few students there for an assignment they had to complete. It was a group six of us and we stood around in the parking lot for a few minutes waiting to see if any additional students would join us (they never did). As usual, I had forced myself into this situation. We all felt awkward but I had to be the leader and pretend I didn't.

This is the Khanda, the symbol of Sikhism. I think it's pretty obvious that Sikhism has the best symbol out of all the religions. It looks like something off of Star Wars. (Runner-up: Yin-Yang)

 
We arrived inside the lobby and took our shoes off. There was chanting going on in what seemed like the large open room right in front of us. I led us inside to find....just a women sitting on the floor alone. I realized we were listening to a speaker we had entered the "langar" the common area around the kitchen for eating after the service.

I approached the woman and found out her name was Regina and she wasn't a Sikh at all - but married to a Sikh that had immigrated here to the states from India. She came to the gurdwara every Sunday with her family (including her in-laws). She told us it was best if we covered our heads while inside the gurdwara as a sign of respect. I felt a little stupid for not knowing that ahead of time, but ya know, it all worked out. She led us to a drawer full of head coverings for men and scarfs for women. I chose a blue one and felt like a pirate. Turns out blue and orange are preferred colors for Sikhs.

She invited us to grab a bite to eat (some corn-bread-like stuffing cake stuff and some other Indian goodies). We were waiting for the 11:00 service to start but it was already 11:00 and about 20 people came out of the worship area into the room we were in. More people started filing in, old people, women with their beautiful saris and groups of kids, running around being kids.

It surprised me when I saw that about a third of the men didn't have a turban or beard.

Love the sense of humor of this t-shirt. I would wear it if I was from India, South Asia or the Middle East.

I had previously thought all Sikh men had to have beards. I knew all about the 5 K's (look it up, I'm too lazy to type it out for you).  It turns out a Sikh male is only required to follow the 5 K's (which includes not cutting hair and keeping your facial hair) only after baptism. Baptism is a choice and only when the believer is ready. So, there were some men even in their late 50's at the gurdwara that had not been baptized.

A little after 11:00 AM rolled around, we strolled into the worship hall, which was divided by gender.  It is similar to a mosque in that everyone sat on the floor. However, at the front of the room was a short stage where three musicians chanted and sung.  More importantly, at the center was a stage like area where the scared book of Sikhism the Guru Granth Sahib was presented. The entire service an older Sikh would wave a feather over the book (ya know, to keep it cool).

Yeah, like this, except imagine the dude fanning the book with a feather (of course, it's hot under all those blankets). Also, this is (obviously?) not my photo. I don't have the gall to take photos of people when they are in their sacred areas. It just feels wrong and awkward. And I usually I feel awkward enough as it is.

 
The only other male student in my group and I went straight to the back where most believers were seated at. At this point, they were all older men over the age of 65.  We found a spot against the wall, as that's what most of the early-birds were doing - getting the early bird seating. So, old people are all the same, no matter the culture.  Indeed, it was the most comfortable spot and that's a good thing because we were sitting there for over two hours.

The first 30 minutes was just one long song. Like one of those praise-and-worship songs that just goes on and on and on. Making it more difficult was the fact that I had no idea what was being sung.

Turns out the mind wanders when the entire service is in Punjabi.

I noticed a young couple that sat in the back together on the female side, breaking the division of gender in the room. No one seemed to mind but it seemed audacious to me all the same. I was like, yeah, man, I would be that Rebel Sikh guy, too. Fight the POWER. He was a baptized believer and his girlfriend/wife/partner was Anglo. I was going to talk with them later but felt a little too eager to talk with them and then it made me feel silly and maybe even a little racist as I felt like talking to them only because he had a Anglo girlfriend/wife/partner. So, I was lame and didn't.

One of the musicians spoke for a few minutes and then another long half hour song began.  Some parishioners seemed to quietly sing along, but the music was so loud I couldn't tell how many were singing along.

Finally, there was a sermon. I was left guessing what was being said. Mostly, to my foreign ears it sounded like rhetorical question after rhetorical question, with the accompanying pauses and the occasional eye-brow raising. He seemed like a seasoned pro - even watching him was a little entertaining. He got a few pleasant but authentic guffaws from his congregation from time to time.



So, the Sikh Center here in town is in a non-descript building but this the Golden Temple in Punjab. Why am I posting a picture of it? Because I can't do a whole post on Sikhism and not show a picture of this amazing building. It would be a internet sin.  This is definitely on my bucket list. It's also close to Dharamsala as well, which would be cool to check out. AHH - I gotta get to India-Nepal sometime in the next decade somehow.


Later, it was explained to us that the sermon was about loving God and all of God's creations, including our fellow man. To love others is to express one's love in God and for God. A pretty nice thought.

After the sermon, you guessed it, another SONG (which thankfully only ran for 15-20 minutes). This final song was followed by a prayer in which we all stood up. Standing up felt great after being on the ground for about 2 hours.  The prayer was issued and I prayed myself, hoping God was listening to the Sikhs around me. As you may or may not know, I am not one of those strict, mean old Christians but this got me thinking about the nature of God, prayer, the purpose of prayer and the importance of prayer on the believer.

Finally, after the prayer, a part of the service happened that was in English! Three children read from short essays they wrote about their "camp" experienced from a youth event they recently attended.  Good introductory Sikh stories that I actually already knew. We were formally welcomed and our names were read out loud and we stood up as they called our name. Then another prayer was said and sweet bread was passed around to all. It felt a little like communion.

The congregation was dismissed but a group of young Sikhs were quickly around us to welcome us and answer any questions we had. They were pretty cool and they helped answer the question I had about facial hair. I was also encouraged to hear that they hadn't really experienced any direct or explicit discrimination here in town.  I was pleased to hear that a group of Christians came by after the terrible shooting in Wisconsin to offer their support. I wished I had thought about doing that too.

It was then time to eat, while we were having our questions answered the congregation filed into the langar (or what Christians might call the "fellowship hall") for lunch. The Sikh tradition includes lunch after service for all. Everyone sat on the ground and servers came around with buckets of food.

Okay, this is from a gurdwara in Dubai but yeah, it looked like this. The only thing kinda weird was the bare feet so close to your plate. That sounds more gross than it was, it didn't bother me.

It was Indian vegetarian fare. Not bad. Lentils were very good, the other stuff was okay. However, when you get free food, everything tastes a little better.  The students that stuck around for lunch were (honestly) a little boring. I ended up walking over to Regina and talking with her and it got very interesting as she considers herself a Christian but still attends here every Sunday. She talked about feeling the Holy Spirit among the believers and wondered if I thought it could be possible. I couldn't complete my thought as her in-laws came by, as did her husband. It seemed like this conversation was for more Christian "insiders" than the whole fam from the look on Regina's face. After a short conversation it seemed like it was "time to go" (and much of the congregation was making for the exits). I hope to meet her again next semester, but my answer is yes, I think it's possible.

It was an interesting experience I was happy to participate in.  For me, I love "hands on" experiences with other religions and cultures. I look forward to another visit in the coming months.

Blissed Out

When was the last time you felt bliss?  Not happiness or contentment, but actual bliss.  Be sure to exclude sex because that’s too easy.

A recent episode of Radiolab explored this very question (although not with the sex qualifier).  In the show they discussed the story of Aleksander Gamme  - who had been on an  expedition in Antarctica.  As he traveled to his destination he left packages of supplies and occasionally food for his return trip.  As he made his way back he had forgotten at which of the drops he had left the food at. He was wondering if he had any food left and he was very hungry. That’s when this happened after he had not eaten in two days:

For those of you too lazy to watch the amazing video, he did find food in his last drop.  Cheezdoodles, to be exact and his response is classic. He is blissed out on junk food.  His expressions (especially those when he is just staring with his mouth agape in shock) are priceless.

Anyway, back to the question about bliss....when I first heard it, I just kinda pushed it in the back of my head as I was listening to the podcast and grading some quizzes.  Later on I starting thinking…when was the last time I felt “bliss”? I thought of the typical answers – when I got engaged?; at my marriage ceremony?; when my kids where born?  Nothing stuck though. Sure, I was happy in all of those moments but Cheezdoodle Bliss? No, not really.

It seems like if bliss can exist at all - it could only begin when your sense of self awareness becomes lost in a blissed-out moment.   In most big moments like getting married - you're too self-consciously aware of "the moment"  to be in bliss. I recently watched the DVD of our wedding and I look extremely uncomfortable and on the brink of tears.  Although I don't remember feeling exactly that way, I do remember being super-aware of everything like my brain was trying to record and store that moment forever. It wasn't exactly bliss.  

Then it came to me as I was driving home from work. I remembered the last time I experienced bliss. In fact, I could even recall the date (11/10/12) and even down to the exact moment.  

Here it was:





So you might guess I am an Aggie from watching the above video (class of '99).  The interception clinched an upset of the #1 team in the nation.  Texas A&M hadn't been this good in decades. When the season finished we were ranked in the top five for the first time since 1956.  When the season started most Aggies would have been happy with a winning record, which made everything that followed a little bit sweeter. Even before this particular game, I knew this team was special. When I witnessed the interception, I jumped up and down in my living room and laughed like a high-pitch hyena. My 6 year-old daughter told me that my laugh was "terrifying". Terrifying or not and as temporary as it was....it was...bliss. 

It struck me that sports offers these spontaneous, unconscious, self-forgetting, moments.  Isn't that what mystics enter in meditation, worship, prayer, etc. Religions offer individuals ways to subsume themselves into a larger consciousness or understanding.  You can forget and feel forgiven, come before the divine and forget your burdens, worries, fears, sins, insecurities and just...be. 

Whenever I am at church and I see people do this  I wonder - how can they be doing this? How do they turn off the part of their brain that feels foolish or self conscious? Granted I wasn't raised in a church that did this so that explains a lot. However, it's not just raising the hands in the air - it's everything. I always feel like the kid in class who doesn't "get it" (or maybe everyone else is just faking it). 

I've always craved to have a religious experience like that and yet my self seems to always stand in the way.  I'm over thinking, over analyzing and I just can't make my brain stay still. I could blame my culture and the fact I was raised on corn syrup, I have ADD (no, not really but maybe) or watched too many cartoons growing up, but I think this problem is larger than culture. Getting over ourselves is a problem all humans have encountered. You might even say that's why religious practices were created - to create possible fleeting moments of bliss. 

Today, we're less religious and more distracted. Maybe that's why there are so many sports fans and sex fiends -- we're addicted to the rush of feeling bliss. It's the only way we know how to forgot our selves.  

Missing the Point on Church

I was talking on the phone with my dad tonight. He was telling me about the youth minister at his church being "too liberal". I asked for an example and he said he was a "tree-hugger". He said something about how it's okay, they still like him, etc, etc.

Worse still, I'm not raising a tree hugger but a tree kisser!

I said, "If you go to a church that just tells you everything you want to hear, you're probably going to the wrong church.". My parents (who were on speaker phone) both laughed. They didn't get it.  I was a little puzzled for a second, as I thought this was an honest and agreeable position any Christian should have.

My dad said something about how sometimes people have "agendas" (at this point I should have mentioned to him that well, that's the whole point of a sermon, but I didn't).

I go to a church that I hate to admit, is conservative. It is a challenge - I sometimes feel like I'm trying to run under-water. I'm trying to move fast but seemingly not making any real progress.  I would rather work to change things then just attend a church that will make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

There are limits to this mindset.  At some point, you have to draw a line in the sand. There might be a day when enough is enough and a change is needed.  

Anyway, my point isn't that we have to attend churches that we disagree with the theology or the pastor's political positions. It's just that sermons shouldn't be about being comfortable or preaching to appeal to most people (I'm looking at you, Joel Osteen). Rather, preaching the gospel shouldn't be an "easy" sell at all. It's about challenging your fellow sisters and brothers to take up the cross and bomb Iran (oops that was a little Hagee slip). I meant taking up the cross and living a sacrificial and servant life. 

God may be Love, but take it from Hagee, Fear and Sensationalism Sell!

I'm tired of the complacency of Christianity here in the good ol' US of A. I know all religions are just reflections of their society and culture but we need constant reminders to be people of action and not just people of faith.

One Week As A Muslim: Day 1

After two missteps, my one week journey as a Muslim finally began today.

After my cell phone alarm had me up at 4:50 - I went to the kitchen sink to begin the wudu cleansing rituals. These rituals can only be described as, well, literally symbolic. While you physically clean yourself; the point isn't physical cleanliness but rather a spiritual cleansing before praying to God. I felt a little divided about wudu this early in the morning. On one hand, I like the idea of preparing myself before praying but then again its 4:50 in the morning and the process will be waking me up more than I would ever want to be.


I started with my hands, nostrils, mouth, face, arms (up to my elbows) and finally my feet (up to my ankles). All this was repeated three times. I later found out I was practicing Sunnah traditions, which are based on the Sunni Hadiths.  Admittedly, wudu did its job - I felt fresh and wide awake after I was done.

This would have been nice, but I stretch well - I hope the wife doesn't mind my feet near the kitchen sink! :)

I started my recitation (again, I am reciting from my faith tradition using the 23rd Psalms and the Lord's Prayer) and completed two rakats (two prayer cycles) before heading back to bed.

Of course, my body was ready to start the day. I probably didn't drift off until about 5:30. Thankfully, our oldest only got up at 6:30 and stayed in her "Quiet Time" for the full 30 minutes until 7:00AM. Needless to say I was ready for my coffee at that point.

I went along with my day as usual; I left for work around 8:00ish and checked emails, made a few phone calls, got ready for my class, etc. My class will be conflicting with the afternoon prayer (Dhuhr) as it runs on MW from 11:00-1:45. Dhuhr usually happens between 1:32-1:35 PM. According to tradition, it's okay that I'm a little late - I am just supposed to make it up as soon as possible. So, after class and answering a few after-class questions, I headed upstairs back to my office. I thought I would check my email and find a vacant room (thankfully not as difficult to do in the summer semester). I got sidetracked by a friend...and then I remembered that I was already late with my prayer duties. I headed to the men's room for my wudu.

As I began cleaning myself in the public restroom for Dhuhr I began to feel a little self-conscious for the first time in my journey. I was worried someone might walk in as I was washing my arms up to my elbows. No one came in - but it definitely put me in the position of a Muslim here in the states. I began to appreciate the tension created by participating in a different belief system than the dominant culture.

Direct Link: http://www.mattbors.com/2008/07/muslim-in-america.html

I explored an area of our building that had a number of empty rooms. As I began my prayers in the corner of a darkened room, I nervously keep peeking towards to door when I heard the noise of nearby doors opening and closing or people walking by. I half-expected someone to burst in and discover me with my shoes off, bowing in prayer in the corner. I started to turn a computer on in case someone came in so that I could create a facade that I was checking something on the computer. However, I determined to just tell the truth if I was discovered.

When I got home, my family was at the in-law’s house (just around the corner) which allowed me peace and quiet for the Asr prayer (a little after 5:00 PM). I was expecting them any minute and rushed the whole process (this was definitely my worst prayer of the day). I slacked further at Maghrib (8:30ish PM) when I was making cookies for our garage sale adoption fundraiser and completely forgot. I remembered when Kathryn came home and started about 15 minutes late.

Finally my Isha prayer was a breeze because not only was it on-time but I hadn’t broken any of cleanliness traditions – I didn’t have to perform my wudu! What a relief for the last prayer of the day. I was definitely tuned in more than the others – I wasn’t tired, rushed or nervous someone would discover me and I was finally beginning to memorize my recitations.

My first day as “Muslim” was relatively successful. I haven’t explored the spiritual side of my experience so far, but I thought I would have plenty of time to do that in the future blog entries (after all, this is only day one of seven). I’m ready for Day 2!

One Week As A Muslim: -1 & -2 day as Muslim: Complete and Utter Failure

I was ready to start my week as a “Muslim” early Monday morning.

(See the prior post if you are confused for the details).

Sunday night I found myself dead tired from a long weekend out of town.  However, I was determined to go forward with the plan.

I had my prayer rituals printed out. I had my scripture picked out (I went with the old standards – Psalms 23 and the traditional “Lord’s Prayer” more on this later this week).

After we got the kids to bed, we cleaned the kitchen (we had left it dirty when we left for Austin). Then I got ready for the next day (the first day of the summer session) and fired off some important emails.  When we finally got into bed it was after midnight.  I told my wife, “no pain, no gain” and set my alarm for 4:50 – 10 minutes before Fajr, the first prayer of the day. This would give me enough time to perform the ritual wudu – which is the ritual cleaning of the hands, face, mouth, nostrils, arms and feet.

I suddenly awoke at 1:30 at the sound of our oldest (4 years old) crying. I might have dreamt this because when I checked on her she was fast asleep in bed.  As I dragged myself back to bed I felt as though the like the Tired Stick and been beaten over my head. I was groggy and out of it and with little thought – turned off my alarm.

I felt bad but knew I wasn’t physically ready after a long weekend. I made plans for Tuesday to be the day. This time I turned on the alarm – I was ready to go.  This time I awoke sometime at 5:30 – my alarm had gone off but the radio was so soft (as to not wake the wife) it hadn’t done it’s job. I had overslept Fajr by 40 minutes! In Islam you can make this up by praying around the time of sunrise (Shorook) around 6:30 but 6:30 at my house is “Go Time” and there would be no time for me to pray.

So, I will begin the process again tomorrow. This time around I will be using my cell phone alarm...although now I know why an adhan is needed because you can't accidentally oversleep.

Experiment in Living # 1: One Week as a Muslim

So I have decided to embark on a little experiment in living. In a few days or weeks (whenever I feel like I'm ready) I will live like a Muslim for one whole week.  I’m not converting to the Islamic faith – my entire experiment will be through the lens of Christian belief and practice (i.e., instead of reciting the first chapter from the Qur’an, I’ll be reciting a chapter from Psalms). My goal is to embrace what being a “Muslim” is – to submit to God. Here will be my basic rules:


*Practice Cleanliness traditions such as wudu (as this relates to prayer).


* Pray five times a day as prescribed in the Qur’an during the prescribed times (this can change daily but usually lands around the following times: 5:20ish, 6:30ish, 1:30ish, 5:10ish, 8:30ish and 9:50ish). This includes trying to find time to pray at work or whenever I may be.  Most prayer traditions will be followed.    


*I will not consume pork or alcohol (I’ll be doing a bit of cheating; as strictly speaking , Muslims should not eat any meat not killed properly by another Muslim)


*I will (or we will) try to dine at one of our "Persian" restaurants that week..(this one is just for fun more than anything).

So, between now and then, I will be selecting some prayer verses I will be reciting, memorizing them and studying the physical movements of prayer. 

Should have an update in about a week...or at least the night before I start this crazy experiment in living.

8 Ways to Land a Great Afterlife

I was walking into our bathroom when I noticed our Consumer Reports magazine upside-down - I was more than a little surprised when I read an article entitled "8 Ways to Land a Great Afterlife". Of course, it actually read, "8 Ways to Land a Great Airfare". Sure it was upside-down, but I think my mind's eye saw this mainly because I watched the Lost finale last night. That and the fact that I am obsessed with death in general.


Interestingly enough, it's eight tips of achieving a cheap airfare also might also be read as tips to achieving a great afterlife as well.


1. Be Flexible About Dates

The trick about dying is that you don't know when it's going to happen. You might only live once, but don't stress with existential angst over it - you'll waste precious time worrying when you should be living.


2. Consider Other Airports

If Airfare is the stand in for the afterlife, then surely the airlines represents the different world belief systems (meaning the atheists refuse to fly?). Then this must mean the airports are way stations - death itself before the airline takes us away. Maybe this means to consider our own mortality - we're going to die - so contemplate it and be ready.


3. Check the airline's site

Airline Site = Sacred Scripture. If you need more information, check out the scripture that your belief system is based on. Read up on all the details, offers and rules and regulations.


4. Mix and Match

If you can't find the right fit - by golly, mix and match. Most people do it anyway, they just don't admit it. Create your own theology by borrowing or weaving other meta-narratives into your own!


5. Know when to Buy

Timing is everything. When it's your time - don't fight it - let go and recognize the season of life is over.

6. Consider Multiple Carriers

Surely a Universalist wrote this article.


7. Waive Change Fees?

I got nothing. Hey, every analogy breaks down at some point.


8. Think About Bidding

Take a leap of faith, no matter how blindly - Kierkegaard would totally use Expedia.

Pushing the Button: Faith & Community in Lost

In honor of Lost's last episode on Sunday, I decided to write about my favorite episode and scene in the series. Lost may have never regained it's simplicity, beauty and mystery from the first two seasons, but there's never been a show that has been as philosophically deep. It explored issues such as: Do we have freewill? Are humans good or evil? Can we change who we are? At the same time the series has (at times) been downright silly, disappointing and has left many a plot thread hanging. However, it's a network TV show, it has its limitations in form and it admittedly suffers when judged as a coherent piece of art. Even still, Lost is easily my favorite television series ever. I will miss Lost.

Insert Cliche Image from Show. Think about it - a blog with no readers, posting pictures that no one needs. The epitome of silly.

One of Lost’s fundamental and reoccurring themes is the struggle between faith and reason. This theme is best illustrated in the show’s second season episode, Orientation. To attempt to completely recount the story’s twisting plot could possibly cause a reader’s nose to bleed (thank you very much - that’s an inside joke for Lost fans). However, I’ll try my best to briefly set the context for a broad audience....just bear with me and oh yeah, spoiler alert.

Lost is centered on the survivors of a plane crash that happened on a super-natural (to put it lightly) island. There is a mysterious “smoke monster”, a crazy French lady who has been shipwrecked on the island for 17 years, and the whispers. Oh, and sometimes our survivors have visions and dreams of the dead, animals, etc.

All this is to say the island is a not just mysterious place but a miraculous place as well. One of the key plot points of the first season is the discovery of a hatch or underground shelter by the character John Locke. The buildup of the first season concludes with the opening of the hatch and it is immediately explored by the main characters, John Locke and Jack Shepherd in the first episode of the second season.

The “hatch” has living quarters and a massive computer station - all of which was seemingly built in the late 70’s. A man named Desmond Hume has been “trapped” in the hatch for a three years. He claims he has to enter a numeric code every 108 minutes in order to “save the world”. If Desmond fails to continue to push "the button" an enormous amount of electro-magnetism being held at bay by the station could reach catastrophic levels around the world.

Jack Shepherd and John Locke serve as proxies for one of the show's fundamental themes: faith and reason. For most of the series, Jack serves as the show’s primarily rationalist and is the survivor’s closest thing to a traditional leader. He finds the entire scenario incredulous; "You understand what he's saying -- it's insane, it's impossible."

Insert Cliche Religious Symbol  Here

...actually, if you ask me Lost. deals just with many of the tenants of Daoism. But that's another blog post.

John Locke is the show’s “knight of faith”. Although the viewers know his faith in the island and purpose is grounded in concrete, rational reason (when the plane took off he was a paraplegic; after the crash he could walk) the hatch represents a new “leaping off” point. While the situation might be "impossible", Locke believes the island has led him here and he accepts the mission of “pushing the button” with purpose. The hatch can serve as an allegory for the existential nature of life. Our situation is absurd, seemingly senseless and well, our proverbial hatch clocks are ticking. Are you ready to push the button?

The episode crescendos as the hatch timer is winding down and this exchange follows:

Jack: “Why do you find it so easy to believe?!”

Locke: “It never has been easy!”

Some believe that people profess faith because it's the easy way out. Faith is claimed to be a crutch, an "opium for the masses" or a deep seated need for a father figure. (Yes, I'm looking at you Sigmund and Karl)

Faith can be all those things, but the fact is, it doesn't have to be an answer - it can be a journey or challenge that bravely embraces the absurdity of life. Jesus never said life would be "easy".

Like Locke, I believe faith is not easy. I suppose I should clarify when I use the term “faith” I mean a real, authentic faith…not one that is practiced by rote, tradition or familiarity. Faith is not easy in terms of accepting the absurd nor is it easy to embrace your faith so fully that it informs your every action, every deed, every thought. Faith is a choice that should be made every day, even if it’s practice is imperfect.

It’s almost impossible not to project ourselves into art that we like. When I first saw this scene, I was blown away. It represented my own struggle to believe. However, when I finally saw this scene years later - I realized I had missed a huge point of this entire encounter.

In defiance (in equal measures of stubborn foolishness and bravery) Locke demands Jack join in this “ridiculous” act because he can’t do it alone. Although Locke himself can enter the code, he implores Jack to push the “Enter” button; which will re-set the timer. He realizes that faith is not meant to be practiced in isolation, but with others, with community…even with those who aren’t yet believers at all. “It’s a two person job, Jack” This also recalls one of the many mantras of Lost; “if we can’t live together – we’ll die alone”. Separate, we don’t hold ourselves accountable and often fail to see someone else’s perspective. Together, we build relationships that strengthen us as individuals.
Too often we view our spirituality in a vacuum or solitude. We might imagine ourselves standing as an individual before God at the end of time. We don’t have to “fight” the battle alone, though. Locke recognizes that believers need community. While much of our faith journeys have to start alone and even be walked alone along the way, faith is not meant to be practiced alone. Faith is supposed to build community.

In this episode, faith wins the day....but faith has it's pitfalls later in the series as well. I won't go too far the rabbit hole (that would be an additional essay and the whole point of this blog is FRAGMENTS)...needless to say I will miss all the questions the series has posed. I'm looking forward to the finale to see what, if any, ultimate meaning can be teased out in this final episode.

Here is the entire scene for your pleasure and enjoyment.

Questioning Faith

Every "believer" has their doubts. I can't imagine my own faith existing without some level of doubt - a yin of doubt for the yang of belief. My first faith crisis was the hardest. At school I was confronted with rumors, questions and debates about the nature of belief. I was troubled but the fact remained that I still wanted to believe.

In the winter of 1984, my family spent Christmas Eve in my grandparent’s house. I spent the night in their spare bedroom, surrounded by my grandmother's sewing accessories and my grandfather's CB radio equipment. My parents had reasonable Christmas morning expectations. My sister and I could go through our stockings first thing in the morning but we were under strict orders to not open anything else until they were awake.

Of course I scampered out of bed before sunrise to check out the coveted loot. Once back into the guest room I quickly poured out the stocking’s treasures onto the bed. There was the requisite candy and other small items, but two toys stood above the rest: two small Transformers action figures (Brawn & WindCharger for those scoring at home).

Gotta love the internet - punch this into Google images and bang - I got a visual.

Suddenly, it all came crashing down.

The two packages were cut with scissors, so they could fit into the stocking. Each of the packages had two pathetic, half-heartily “Toys R Us” tags torn off. I sat on the bed staring at the packages. Although I had already begun to deconstruct the paradox of “Santa’s Workshop” (the elves made Masters of the Universe figures?) - staring at the packages confirmed my doubts - Santa was a lie. I started to create excuses to believe but nothing stuck.

In a few hours my parents would wake up and ask what Santa brought. I played the game that morning, I was too embarrassed by the whole situation to say anything. Quietly, my faith in Santa had died but I managed to fake it for a few more years.

I’m still not that much different than my seven-year old self. I find the packaging for God lacking but I still desire, yes, even yearn to believe. I want to live in a world that has meaning. Not the existential kind of meaning that we create to get by. I want meaning that reveals ultimate truth; the transcendent kind of meaning.

I still want to believe.

Detaching from the Spurs: Or How Buddhism Helped Me Ignore My Favorite Sports Team

One of the central tenets of Buddhism is it's belief that our suffering in life is caused by attachments. For example, you're attached to the idea of your car starting in the morning and when it doesn't - you suffer. The first step to removing suffering is to recognize suffering can be removed...(for those wondering these are the second and third "Noble Truths" of Buddhism).

Obligatory picture of the Buddha chilling

I came into this NBA season with high hopes. The Spurs looked to me (on paper at least) to be one of the 2-4 teams that could win the title. Boy, was I wrong....(maybe). Their big off season move (obtaining Jefferson for spare change) was a dud. Their improvements in offense was off set by poor defense. Of course there were a few injuries as well. Finally, they would follow up huge wins with inexplicable losses to terrible teams. Needless to say, they were probably pretty frustrating to watch this year.

I honestly wouldn't know though because I stopped watching after the second game.

I think I caught the 4th quarter of 2-3 additional games. That's it. That's all I watched. This is coming from the guy who actually bought the 12 disc "Spurs Dynasty" DVD set (yes, it's cool, and yes, it should have been put together better).

It's not like I purposely set out to detach...I just grew away from it all. We don't have cable, so most of the time it was easy to forget about the NBA almost entirely. I would catch highlights and read the paper but that was about it. Just going with the flow....

As the year has winded down, the Spurs improved, letting in small rays of hope around the Spurs Nation. Surprisingly, Hollinger (over at ESPN) has the spurs ranked #2 due to their point differential. Maybe somewhere in the dark corners of my heart I felt it too, but it wasn't the same....I had detached.

My fandom has given me years of pleasure, but more often than not, it has given me pain. I can never forget the adolescent heartbreak of 91', the crushing conference final slap down in 95' or the beat downs administered by the Lakers in 01' & 02'. Need I mention the worst of the worst? No, real fans know what I speak of.

The Buddha had it right....it's easier just to let go.

So, I sit typing on the eve of the NBA playoffs....feeling calm, serene and pleased to know that sports, while a fun distraction, are not important in the big scheme of things.

Of course, if they beat the Mavs - I'll have to rethink that whole attachment thing again.