Category Archives: Cartoons

An Easter Message For Liberal Quakers

An “Easter” Message  – 4th Month (April) 9, 2023

 I’ve been to Easter morning worship at a good many Friends meetings, mostly liberal & unprogrammed. And the most visible special character noted at many on the occasion was someone, usually female, in an adult-sized cartoon rabbit costume. It brings to mind a cartoon I turned up this past week:

It is not, of course, that liberal Quakers worship rabbits or poultry. The focus on floppy ears and colored eggs serves as a familiar, welcome distraction and deflection. It’s all-but guaranteed to avoid the framing of the occasion by the vast majority of Christian groups. Because in these Quaker meetings, that framing is believed in even less than that of a bountiful egg-laying bunny.

 Let’s recall the difference, in sum: Those who traveled more than a few miles to meeting today probably passed one or more signs or banners proclaiming “He Is Risen!”

Like such banners, Easter marks the climactic moment in a drama that began, in the traditional reading, shortly after God’s creation of a human couple. They at first subsisted in blissful divine-human communion in Eden, until something went terribly, fatefully wrong:

The couple defied a divinely-announced taboo. As a result, they were expelled from Eden, condemned to labor, bear children in painful travail, and then die.

As the tradition developed, the errant first couple, following their deaths, were to be plunged into a bottomless pit of fiery torment, which they would endure as conscious torture, forever, and ever. 

This prospect of endless torment in hell was soon expanded to include as many as all humans ever born (or to be born); or just most, with a select few (numbers were fuzzy) exempted for various reasons, or (in some major theologies) no reason at all.

All this was justified by saying the first couple’s downfall was not simply an infraction, but a sin, evil – and the stain of this sin marked all their children, through all generations, magnified by the children’s own sinful contributions. These millennia of total human  depravity added up to a kind of debt load no human could ever repay, even in theory.

But God eventually (in 33 A.D.) decided to offer (an uncertain number of) exemptions. To produce the exemptions, God would transfer the debt to their own (sinless, ergo innocent) divine offspring, who would pay for it by being killed. Lynched, in the standard script.

But as mercy, God would revive the offspring after not quite 48 hours following  his demise.

This ominously vivid scenario captured wide attention. It also soon began to evoke questions, and skepticism. The questioning even seeped into the sacred pages of the Bible. 

There were doubts about the mechanics: How does it work to transfer responsibility for evil from the evildoer to an innocent? (Like, if I murdered someone and was found out, how could I fix it so, knowing my guilt, the authorities would select some innocent person to punish, maybe execute, and let me go free? 

Put another way, how does punishing an innocent absolve the guilty?

There were also doubts about this kind of “justice”: the “sin” of the First Couple, however precedent-setting, was still finite, even petty; and for pete’s sake, it was their first offense.  Yet the punishment, for them and their spawn, was infinite in scope, everlasting, and endless.

I mean, if I were burned at the stake, even with the newest AI technology, they could only burn me once, til my bones were vaporized. In current crematoria, the process only takes a couple of hours.

But in the scriptural hell, and its tributaries, the fire and torment are infinite punishment. As in Revelation 14:9-11 (one of numerous similar passages): “If anyone worships the beast and its image and receives a mark on his forehead or on his hand, 10 he . . . will be tormented with fire and sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb. 11 And the smoke of their torment goes up forever and ever, and they have no rest, day or night . . . .

Such revenge fantasies did not mollify the doubters, primarily because it was far out of whack with their life experience.

The scriptural efforts to square such assymetric suffering, which makes the tortures of the Inquisition seem tame, with “divine justice,” can be profound (e.g., the Book of Job), but are unsuccessful (ibid.). As one of the best biblical writers to make the effort admitted, in Ecclesiastes 8 & 9:

8:11: Why do people commit crimes so readily? Because crime is not punished quickly enough. 12 A sinner may commit a hundred crimes and still live.

Oh yes, I know what they say: “If you obey God, everything will be all right, 13 but it will not go well for the wicked. Their life is like a shadow and they will die young, because they do not obey God.”

14 But this is nonsense. Look at what happens in the world: sometimes the righteous get the punishment of the wicked, and the wicked get the reward of the righteous. I say it is useless. . . .

9:16 Whenever I tried to become wise and learn what goes on in the world, I realized that you could stay awake night and day 17 and never be able to understand what God is doing. However hard you try, you will never find out. The wise may claim to know, but they don’t.”

Some say this is cynical, others merely realistic. I oscillate.

Whichever; but if after-death salvation schemes are “useless,” in explaining how they embody or vindicate scriptural divine justice, what then to make of Jesus?

I have an extra-scriptural elder and teacher here, in the form of Lucretia Mott; she clerks my inner clearness committee on the topic. In 1849, she declared plainly to her home meeting in Philadelphia that:

“This creed based upon the assumption of human depravity and completed by a vicarious atonement–connected with a belief in mysteries and miracles as essential to salvation–-forms a substitute for that faith which works by love and which purifies the heart, leading us into communion with God and teaching us to live in the cultivation of benevolence, to visit the widow and the fatherless in their affliction and to entertain charitable feelings one unto another.”

For her, Jesus is a model and a teacher. His key teachings begin in Luke 4, with his first public appearance after spending six weeks in the desert wilderness:

16 Then Jesus went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath he went as usual to the synagogue. He stood up to read the Scriptures 17 and was handed the book of the prophet Isaiah. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it is written,

18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has chosen me to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to set free the oppressed
19     and announce that the time has come
when the Lord will save his people.”

20 Jesus rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. All the people in the synagogue had their eyes fixed on him, 21 as he said to them, “This passage of scripture has come true today, as you heard it being read.”

(How did the crowd respond? They tried to kill him.)

Then there is the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) and the Last Judgment of the “sheep & goats” set out in Matthew 25: 31-48. Each of these is worth extended study, but my thumbnail is that: what matters most there is what you do, particularly leavened with justice, mercy & compassion, more than what you believe, or the religious rituals you repeat.

Mott also revered his example: rejecting both the exploitive empire, the co-opted and corrupt religious establishment, and the self-and community-destructive rebel terrorism; then facing his senseless fate with resolve and resignation.

But what about resurrection? What about the related issue of Jesus as the “messiah”, the widely-expected liberator of the Jews from Roman oppression??

Mott didn’t buy either of these notions as actual history. But the rise of the church — at least the good parts of it (among which she frankly preferred the Religious Society of Friends, but collaborated with many others), and the leading figures in them –those were the resurrections she believed in.

And these lasting figures in it – like John Woolman, William Penn, Margaret Fell, what Catholics would call “saints” but Mott wouldn’t (superstitious “priestcraft”, she considered such titles), could bring liberation, in fits and starts, to their people and others. She called them “the Messiahs of every age”; not just one person, one group, or in one era.

Now Mott might not agree with my next thought, but this view reminds me of the Catholic doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ. It’s one of the few beliefs from my Catholic upbringing that’s stuck to me: Rather than him climbing out of the grave, Jesus’ spirit has come back repeatedly in and among the church (and other religious bodies) again, in its good parts, and not only in his biblical name. The official Catholic version says this Mystical Body is only manifest in the Roman Catholic Church.

I don’t buy that: it can show up — or be resurrected — in many places & groups; it can also be crucified again too.

Early Quakers thought much like that as well, tho they were also mostly anti-Catholic & anti-pope, and for awhile figured Quakers were the real one & only true church. (When William Penn published his summary of Quakerism, his title was, perhaps hyperbolically,  Primitive Christianity Revived. Eventually, some Friends got over that particularist triumphalism. Some.)

In this Mystical body view, whether seen as a potentially profound metaphor or even a theological belief, Jesus can become a kind of archetype, that is, the embodiment of a story (not necessarily historical) that can come alive for people and groups. Such archetypal stories can then die and be resurrected.

From this perspective, perhaps the tomb on that ancient Sunday morning was really vacant.

Vacant, yes, but not empty: it left behind a story that continued, renewed itself (more than once) and for many, isn’t finished yet.

Ponder all that for awhile. I’m going to talk with Lucretia about it, while I go crack a decorated egg or two. And maybe eat an apple.

Quotes of [Early In] the Week

 

Borrowed from a note to Garrison Keillor:

Rows and flows of loosened hair
And vomit on the second stair
And catnip mousies everywhere
I’ve looked at cats that way

But then they lie and soak the sun
They purr and mew at everyone
They snuggle when the day is done
But cats get in the way

I’ve looked at cats from both sides now
Their heads, their butts and still somehow
Despite the things that I recall,
I really don’t know cats at all

Karen Rouda

 

We are all here on earth to help others; what on earth the others are here for I don’t know. — W. H. Auden

 

 

 

 

 

After a lengthy, difficult committee session, a 76-year-old Quaker is sipping his drink in a coffee bar. Suddenly, a gorgeous young woman enters and sits down a few seats away. The girl is so attractive he can’t keep his eyes off her.

The young woman approaches the old man, looks him deep in the eyes, and says to him in a sultry tone: “I’ll do anything you’d like. Anything you can imagine in your wildest dreams. It doesn’t matter how extreme or unusual it is; I’m game. I want $200, and there’s another condition.”

The man asks what the condition is.

“You have to tell me what you want me to do in just three words.”

The man takes a moment to consider the offer from the beautiful woman. He then whips out his wallet and puts twenty $10 bills in her outstretched hand.

He then looks her square in the eyes and says slowly and clearly:

“Paint our meetinghouse.”

Our needs change as we get older. Never underestimate how old Quakers can get things done.

 

 

 

Geography of the Heart

Teacher: Obadiah, can thee tell us where the Canadian border is?

Obadiah: Sure. He’s walking in the park with my older sister
Rebecca, and mother doesn’t trust his intentions one bit.

The Truth In Chains

A newly-installed governor of Pennsylvania made a quiet visit to a state prison, and spoke to inmates. One prisoner after another swore they were innocent and had been wrongly convicted.

Then he asked the last prisoner, “So, are you innocent too?”

But the youth replied, “No, Friend. I did wrong, stole some money, and was properly tried and sentenced.”

“You admit the crime?” the governor asked.

“Yes, Friend.”

The governor whipped out his pen and immediately signed a
pardon. “Get this crook out of here!” he roared at the guards.

The other prisoners started complaining loudly.”Hey!” was the common cry, “how can you let this confessed crook go, while we’re all stuck in here?“

The governor shrugged.

“Well,” he said, “I was afraid that evil guy would corrupt all you innocent lambs.”

Truth & Consequences

An old-fashioned Quaker minister lined up all his five gray-clad sons and stood in front of them. “Young Friends,” he said in a carefully-controlled voice, “who pushed the privy into the creek?”
No one answered.
The patriarch repeated the question, and was again met with a guarded silence.
“All right,” he said, “did I ever tell you the story of George
Washington and his father? George chopped down his father’s cherry tree, but he told the truth about it, and wasn’t punished. And they weren’t even Friends.”
Then he asked again, “Who pushed the privy over the cliff?”
To which the two youngest sons sheepishly admitted, “Father, we cannot tell a lie, we did it.”
Whereupon their father retrieved a short length of birch and administered them some physical eldering on the hinder parts.
When he was done, the two boys, rubbing their sore posteriors, asked, “Father, thee said that when George Washington told the truth, he
wasn’t punished. But we told the truth, and we got punished. How come, Father?”
Their father replied, “There’s a difference, young man.
Washington’s father was not IN the cherry tree when George chopped it down.”

 

 

 

 

 

How I became a successful Writer & an Independent Publisher (The short version) Part 1 of 3 Parts

In mid-1974, my third trade book [“trade” means produced by a traditional publisher], Selma 1965, came out from Charles Scribner’s Sons.

Scribner’s had published Hemingway, Edith Wharton, Fitzgerald, Vonnegut, Stephen King, and lots more bigtime writers – and now, me. Continue reading How I became a successful Writer & an Independent Publisher (The short version) Part 1 of 3 Parts