Religion Can Still Transform; Hope for the Future
I was lucky enough for my car to pick up a nail in the left rear tire the other day.
So, I made an appointment at my favorite shop to get it fixed. Warranties are so nice. The whole thing was free. Arriving at 6:50 in the morning, which is a perfect time for those who have attained elderhood, I found five old boomers and a millennial waiting for service. The doors opened precisely at 7:00. We were processed into a computer queue and surrendered our keys.
Two of our group left their cars and were picked up by doting children. The rest of us settled into chairs with coffee in hand. The conversation started out with an octogenarian woman complimenting the hat of another who was somewhat younger. Funny how things can get started. I am reminded of the scriptural reference that whenever two or more are gathered, God is among them. Rough translation. Of course, God is always with each of us. But there is a sacredness in gathering together because an immediate community has a chance to emerge.
During our hour together, an unusual depth of sharing happened. We spoke of a spouse who is suffering from dementia in a nursing home, stories of growing up black in rural Memphis, recovering from surgeries, a defiant adult grandchild, the effects of growing old and trying to stay fit. We talked about karma, punishment and love. All the time, our young millennial was listening intently. She even said she was learning and appreciated being part of the unintentional group.
Our little meeting reminded me of the church in so many ways. Religion, like everything else, seems to be undergoing some big changes. Some of those are not very pretty. A so-called spiritual advisor who has the ear of our top leaders ranted in a public prayer that called on Jesus Christ to “command all satanic pregnancies to miscarry right now.” She later walked it back saying she was being metaphoric. A televangelist recently flashed a photograph of the Speaker of the House of Representatives while referring to "demons from hell." Islamist extremism caused 84,000 deaths in 2017.
Fanatics seem to be running rampant in almost every religion. I dare say that not one of them is reflecting the true nature of their faith nor are they representing God in any way, shape, or form. But they have followings and their voices divide a world that so desperately needs love, healing, and a joining together.
There is also a movement afoot that envisions a spiritual reawakening which it purports is underway right now. It's clerics and laypeople ask for organized religions to become transformational rather than transactional, teaching about simple living, nonviolence, inclusivity, and love of enemies. People seem to be starving for this kind of revival. Meetings such as those of AA, Celebrate Recovery, Cursillo, Tres Dias, and spontaneous gatherings like the one I experienced the other day speak to the depth of that hunger.
Thomas Keating once said that “The primary purpose of religion is to help us move beyond the separate-self sense to union with God.” I believe and teach that our separateness from self and from each other is merely an illusion. This is reflected in the Spanish folk song, De Colores. which is beloved by children and widely used in retreats. It sings simple lyrics of love, acceptance, and oneness which should resonate with all authentic faith systems.
De colores, de colores
Se visten los campos en la primavera.
De colores, de colores
Son los pajaritos que vienen de afuera.
De colores, de colores
Es el arco iris que vemos lucir.
Y por eso los grandes amores
De muchos colores me gustan a mí.
English Translation
In colors, in colors
The fields are dressed in the spring.
In colors, in colors
Are the little birds that come from outside.
In colors, in colors
Is the rainbow that we see shining.
And that is why I love
The great loves of many colors
We have come to a time in which authoritarian (my way or the highway) religion suggesting a vindictive and punitive God who plays favorites should come to an end. Hearts are crying out to our God of Love for restorative salvation, freedom, and acceptance by the entire community of human beings who long to be joined hand in hand.
The True Meaning of the Holidays (And Those 5 Golden Rings)
Today is known by some as the Fifth Day. It isn't widely celebrated nowadays, but there is good reason to give it another look.
We have been bombarded by familiar holiday songs for the past several weeks. One played over and over is The Twelve Days of Christmas. With partridges in pear trees, pipers piping, and lords-a-leaping, we sing along wondering what in the world it all means. Some say it represents secret Roman Catholic teaching during times of persecution. Whatever the origin, when we come to the fifth of those days, the true lover (God) brings the gift of five golden rings.
One explanation of this has stayed with me over the years. Bob Brown, a psychology professor of mine at Kishwaukee College used the metaphor to explain the relationship between our five basic human senses of touch, sight, hearing, smell, and taste which allow us to better understand the world around us, and what King Henry VIII called the five "inward wits" of instinct, imagination, fantasy, estimation, and memory.
While not the premiere of a new holiday tradition, FX’s new A Christmas Carol taps into the story’s promise of spiritual renewal..
Bob taught that the five rings become golden when all ten senses are engaged, hence connecting our outer and spiritual selves. This, he maintained was the essence of a healthy psyche. He certainly had a good point. When we are completely in tune with physical reality and our deeper stirrings, we are likely to be quite well balanced. It could be that the Fifth Day is a gift which points us toward a more enlightened way of living in the coming new year and new decade.
There is a new version of Charles Dickens classic story "A Christmas Carol" presented this year on FX cable channel. It's a spooky departure from the original tale of Ebenezer Scrooge's dark night of the soul. For those 'Scrooge purisits' among us, their artistic license has stretched itself to a breaking point.
In it, Ebenezer is a victim of childhood trauma by his father and chronic sexual abuse at the hands of his school headmaster. He acts out and survives his victimization by relying only on his five basic senses. But driven by resentment and lack of any emotions, Scrooge's cruel acts cost others dearly and doom him to a bleak solitary life. Like too many of us, he is able to justify amoral behavior as a byproduct of financial gain and success. Whatever the consequences, they are chalked up as unforeseen and unintentional.
It is the job of Jacob Marley and three spirits (Past, Present, and Future) to not only make him face his responsibilities, but to imbue him with legitimate feelings and a sense of connectedness. His redemption doesn't end as the story closes. And the writers make it very clear that those same spirits have plenty of work to do with each of us. Merging ten senses into five golden rings, it seems, requires quite a bit of work. But it is a gift that enables our physical and spiritual lives to explode with new meaning.
The calendar is bringing us closer to year and decade end.
In the next couple of days, we have a unique opportunity to get serious about what we would like to make of ourselves. An imaginary clean slate is waiting for the words we will write and those that will be written about us. The choice is ours. Will it be a headlong plunge into grasping for more or could it be a wading into transformative self discovery leading to kindheartedness? One will lead to an ending and the other will lead to a becoming. Dickens reflection of what might happen is a treasure.
Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world...May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!
Gifts of The Wonderful
“The main trouble is there are too many people who don't know where they're going and they want to get there too fast!”
Sylvester (The Bishop’s Wife, 1947)
I’m waiting for The Wonderful.
It’s coming as sure as there will be white Christmases, holiday decorations, familiar old songs, eggnog, stuffed stockings and presents under the tree. Many of us have the luxury of fond memories, enticing smells of things cooking and a landscape that twinkles with a thousand lights to remind us. Some have not been as fortunate.
But we must remember that there is more to Christmas than the things we might receive and give. I have come to call it The Wonderful. It has to do with a marvelous transformation that seems to happen to people this time of the year. Waiting for The Wonderful creates an atmosphere of childlike joy. The possibility of a miracle reigns supreme. Something extraordinary is coming as our waiting takes on a joy of its’ own.
Christmas movies always put me ‘in the mood’ for the coming festivities. Among my favorites are old black and whites from post-World War II. The men and women who had been engaged in devastating struggles of battle were back home and in the process of creating a bold new world. They rolled up their sleeves, went to work, built houses, attended schools, and dreamed dreams of prosperity.
By 1947, the simple times and ways of a Norman Rockwell agri-rural America were forever altered. Along with the many changes came a more bountiful and materialistic focus on Christmas. Presents were stacked under lighted trees instead of hung on branches. More became better…and that notion was reflected in the movies.
Two very different films were presented that year. One was ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ which portrayed the Macys parade and an abundance of shopping. The other was ‘The Bishop’s Wife’ which reminded a hurried nation to slow it down and to think about what our Christmas observance was all about. This picture sums up the essence of The Wonderful. It ended with a Bishop’s sermon written by an angel. This is what he said;
“Tonight I want to tell you the story of an empty stocking. Once upon a midnight clear, there was a child's cry. A blazing star hung over a stable and wise men came with birthday gifts. We haven't forgotten that night down the centuries; we celebrate it with stars on Christmas trees, the sound of bells and with gifts. But especially with gifts.
You give me a book; I give you a tie. Aunt Martha has always wanted an orange squeezer and Uncle Henry could do with a new pipe. We forget nobody, adult or child. All the stockings are filled...all that is, except one. And we have even forgotten to hang it up.
The stocking for the child born in a manger. It's his birthday we are celebrating. Don't ever let us forget that. Let us ask ourselves what he would wish for most... and then let each put in his share. Loving-kindness, warm hearts and the stretched out hand of tolerance. All the shining gifts that make peace on earth.”
Today, amid all the hustle and bustle, I will remember to fill a stocking in my heart with the most important gift of all. I will eagerly welcome The Wonderful.
The Big Questions; For Those Who Dare to Dream
“Some men see things as they are, and ask why. I dream of things that never were, and ask why not.” ~ Robert Francis Kennedy
“Some men see things as they are, and ask why. I dream of things that never were, and ask why not.” ~ Robert Francis Kennedy
Fifty years ago we lost a great dreamer when Bobby Kennedy was shot and killed. He had become an asker of the Big Questions. ‘Why’ and ‘Why Not’ tug at us to resist obedience.Businesses and corporations generally don’t like these questions unless they specifically direct an investigation which might benefit the organization. Governments recoil from the questions and punish them if they can.Religions tend to answer the inquiries with doctrine and theology that demand blind faith. ‘Why’ is threatening because it gets to the heart of motives. And when motives are tested the fabric of an institution is threatened. ‘Why Not’ demands change and action. They would all rather we just settle for ‘How’.
"To ask, 'How do you do it?' is already starting off on the wrong foot. When reaching for the stars, there does not have to be a 'how' if there is a big enough 'why'.” ~ Criss Jami
When the ‘Why’ and ‘Why Not’ cooperate and collaborate all of the ‘how’s’ will be answered. New ways of thinking are born. We begin to understand that opposing concepts and beliefs are not a threat, but challenges for deepening and growth.Obedience might be important for parents who are trying to protect a toddler. But once we are able to walk under our own steam, the questions of ‘Why’ and ‘Why Not’ become the two most empowering elements of personal evolution. Compliance and conformity only lead us to submissiveness.There were ugly and broken times in the life of Bobby Kennedy. But when he was transformed by ‘Why’ and ‘Why Not’, he evolved into a beacon of change for all those who struggle with hopelessness.He taught us that if we keep asking those Big Questions dreams can become reality.
Robert Kenneth Jones is an innovator in the treatment of addiction and childhood abuse.
In a career spanning over four decades, his work helping people recover from childhood abuse and addiction has earned him the respect of his peers.
His blog, An Elephant for Breakfast, testifies to the power of the human spirit to overcome the worst of life’s difficulties. We encourage you to visit and share this rich source of healing, inspiration and meditation.
Contact Bob Jones on Linkedin
Bob Jones’ blog An Elephant for Breakfast
Prejudice and Transformation; The Experiential Roots of Bias and Spiritual Awakenings
We are frightened of change, and, I suspect, we are even more frightened of our own hearts
I am writing this column from Memphis as the fiftieth anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr’s assassination has come and gone. My visit to The Lorraine Motel and Mason Temple on April 4 was such a moving experience. It led me to re-think prejudice, racism, and all that separates us from one another. Creating a curated column with this in mind is a challenge. There is so much information online. Sorting through it is mind-boggling and formidable. I have gained much in this research. You might say I have a new pair of glasses.
Despite progress made in narrowing the gap between the privileged and marginalized, it remains wide. Discrimination based on race, sex, age, religion, national origin and sexual orientation exists as surely today as ever. We see it or hear about it daily. In Memphis, the CEO of United Way reported on February 27, 2018 that “the median income of African Americans is still 50 percent that of whites, despite our increased high school graduation and college degree rates and when it is consistent across other socioeconomic indices, we're still stuck."
We are still stuck indeed. Each of us is biased and possesses some degree of prejudice. My own roots of prejudice and discovery of redemption might be of some help to others. While I don’t think it would be useful to re-disclose the mounds of data, there is some good current information in this column’s hyperlinks. The most important thing to gain from this is that anyone can change. I have found that such conversion is unlikely unless there is a spiritual awakening from self-examination and soul searching. As the AA people put it in the second step of their program of recovery; “We came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”
Jean Vanier, a philosopher, writer, religious and moral leader and the founder of two major international community-based organizations, L'Arche, and Faith & Light, that exist for people with intellectual disabilities, teaches that fear is the basis of prejudice. He asserts that “We are all frightened of those who are different, those who challenge our authority, our certitudes, and our value system. We are all so frightened of losing what is important for us, the things that give us life, security, and status in society. We are frightened of change, and, I suspect, we are even more frightened of our own hearts.”
Self-Examination and Childhood Experience Reveal Roots of Bias
Examining ones heart is not easy work. I never wanted to think there was a prejudiced bone in my body. I was raised in Danville, Illinois, not in the Deep South where racism seemed so glaringly blatant. I just couldn’t have experienced such intolerance growing up in my comfortable Midwestern town. But, upon deeper reflection and introspection, it seems that early childhood experiences hidden within implicit messages from adults shaped my opinions and attitudes more than I had imagined. I also discovered that Danville has a past that brought it some well-deserved shame. There was a horribly brutal mob lynching in 1903 which made headlines around the country. No place is immune from the fears which fuel hatred and violence.
My earliest memories of African-American people surround several women and men who served as caterers for my parents’ elegant dinner parties. When I asked my mother why they were all black, she responded that the family had ‘colored’ servants for generations. Her ancestors had freed their slaves in Kentucky when they decided to migrate to Illinois in 1829. One of them, a pregnant girl named Polly, followed on foot behind their covered wagons into the Free State. She was not allowed to cross the border in the wagon due to federal law. Aunt Pol, as she came to be known, and her family acted as our servants and nannies for years to come.In fact, her grandson, Frank Neal and his wife, Florence were among the caterers I knew and loved. So my first impression was that African Americans were our family members. It also bothered me, even as a little boy, that we had once been owners of slaves. I decided to pay attention to family members and other trusted adults as they talked about and interacted with black people. My observations were puzzling. It was forbidden to use the “N-word” in our home but when my mother gave Florence Neal a ride home from a party she told me she was taking her to nigger town.When we saw black children with their parents she referred to them as ‘pickaninnys’. Mom wasn’t the only one who gave me mixed messages. But hers were the words that stuck with me. In my mind, there was clearly a disparity between what the adults said they believed and how they behaved.
Media helped to shape my attitudes and those of most kids. There was no internet, but there were other means that guided our thinking just as much Face Book does today. Children’s books like “Little Black Sambo” which portrayed the character as a stereotyped ‘pickaninny’, was quite hurtful to black children “The Bobbsey Twins In the Land of Cotton” portrayed cotton picking laborers in this way;Negroes, both men and women, were gaily dressed in bright-colored shirts, or sunbonnets and aprons. Most of them were singing. “They must like their work,” said Nan. “They seem so happy.” “Cotton picking is healthful exercise.” Replied the plantation owner.Several recording artists like Al Jolson who wore blackface and sang as minstrels depicted a negative stereotype of African Americans. Ralph David Abernathy talked about those stereotypes as black people “scratching where they didn't itch, and laughing when they were not tickled.” Amos ‘n’ Andy was hugely popular radio show whose characters were voiced by two white men portraying black men. Later, a television show of the same name appeared with ‘colored’ actors. Bishop W. J. Walls of the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church wrote an article sharply denouncing Amos 'n' Andy, singling out the lower-class characterizations and the "crude, repetitious and moronic" dialogue. These were only a few of my boyhood influences.I discovered early on that people loved the way I mimicked and imitated voices. It wasn’t long before my jokes turned on black people, polish people and others who were easy and, I found, socially acceptable targets. My popularity among friends and family grew dramatically as I acted out my characterizations. It all seemed harmless enough. Little did I suspect that my antics were affecting people in lasting ways. I was a privileged white boy who was leveraging my position at the expense of those who were suffering injustice and discrimination. I could feel this in my stomach, but the approval and laughter I created only increased the frequency of my bad behavior.
The origins of prejudice can almost always be traced to childhood experiences and to beliefs taught by parents and other adults. Between the ages of 3 and 6, kids begin to understand prejudice and to apply stereotypes. We are not prejudiced because we are evil but because we are human and it is easy to fall into it. The infrastructure of prejudice is not moral depravity, but our regular thinking mechanism that just went wrong.
How Pivotal Events Shake the Foundations of Prejudice
It has taken a series of ah-ha moments, tragic events, studies, workshops and close work with marginalized people to create my conversion and transformation process which continues to this day. The first such experience happened in 1958 when I was seven years old. My parents spent winters with my grandparents in South Florida near Pompano Beach. I loved going there and considered it my second home. On this trip there was a special treat. The State of Florida had just opened the Sunshine State Parkway. It was a divided tollway and you could cruise along at speeds and ‘make time’ unheard of on the two lane roads from Danville to Pompano. To top it all off, there were full service rest areas with free orange juice and a restaurant. We stopped at the first one we saw. The booths at the restaurant each had a little juke box and you could pick songs you liked for a nickel. We were all quite impressed.I will never forget what happened next. I had to go to the bathroom and my folks decided I was old enough to go on my own. I confidently strode to the facilities only to be met by signs that baffled me. The restrooms were marked for use by race. They were labeled as White Men, Colored Men, White Women and Colored Women. Water fountains were also separate. What was I supposed to do? I pondered for a minute and chose the colored bathroom thinking that the people in there had to be interesting (purple, red, orange?). I went inside and started to approach a urinal when a black man took me by the hand and asked to take me back to my parents.I protested that I had to go, but he persisted and led me to our booth. The man told my parents that; “The little master was gonna use the colored bathroom. We could all get in a lot of trouble.” Dad apologized and took me to the White Only boys’ room. I was indignant. It took lots of rather clumsy explanations for me to finally be told to accept that things were different in the South…and to shut up. I decided never to forget the look on the man’s face who saved us from ‘trouble’. There was something terribly wrong.
There were other influences over the years. My friend, Jack Lord from Pompano introduced me to books by Martin Luther King, President Kennedy’s Profiles in Courage, and one about Gandhi. They made big impressions on my thinking. Not a reading list my conservative Republican parents endorsed, but they allowed me to delve into them anyway. But the next event that shook up my conscience happened in 1967. I was 16 and a sophomore at Pine Crest School in Fort Lauderdale. One weekend I was invited to a friend’s house in Pahokee, Florida. Any excuse to get out of the dorm was welcome. Several of the dorm kids were from Pahokee and it sounded like a great time.On Sunday I was expected to attend church services with my host family at First Baptist Church. One of my friends Dad was a deacon at the church and met us at the door to chat about football prior to the services. As we were talking, an African American couple from out of town began walking up the steps to the sanctuary. The Dad excused himself, went into the vestibule and returned with a shotgun. He pointed it at the couple and said; “You must be in the wrong place. The nigger church is down the street.” The frightened folks made a hasty retreat. I was so angry that I couldn’t find words for hours. I just sat there in the car all the way back to Ft. Lauderdale with hot tears in my eyes. I finally decided that I would never be silent about something like this again.
On April 4, 1968 I was in night study hall at Pine Crest when the teacher in charge, Mr. Ed Sickman, called for our attention and told us Senator Robert Kennedy announced in Indianapolis that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had been assassinated in Memphis. We were devastated. How could such a thing happen in our country? King’s words kept playing in my head; “I have felt the power of God transforming the fatigue of despair into the buoyancy of hope. I am convinced that the universe is under the control of a loving purpose and that in the struggle for righteousness man has cosmic companionship.” Was he wrong? Had we sunk to such a level as a people that all hope was gone? How could God let this happen? My heart was broken. That was undeniable. Then, a few short weeks later, Senator Kennedy was killed. My inner transformation was in full swing. I began to question everything about my beliefs. But, like any conversion, the process was not linear.
Conversions and Transformation Take Time to Affect Change
My penchant for racially insensitive and mean joke telling continued for years. Even though my heart was changed, my mind wasn’t. The guilt I experienced was not enough to stop my comments to others which might have influenced or reinforced their own prejudices. It is said that one has to really want to change for it to happen. I believe that this is true. Certainly, the pivotal events I described above were the impetus for my change.But there is more to it than that. I spent much of my life helping kids who suffered the most terrible trauma, and adults who struggled with addictions as a result of horrific childhood experiences. They are of every race, religion, sexual orientation, social background and on and on. They have been my teachers. More than all of my college African American Studies, workshops, retreats and community leadership gatherings about prejudice, my patients led me to the spiritual truth that we are all unique but conversely all the same. It took years for me to reach a place where my bias does not actively direct my behavior. But I still have to be on guard. Old demons can still raise their pointy heads.
The process of conversion and transformation is well told in the lives of Saul of Tarsus (a relentless persecutor of early Christians), John Newton (the slave trader who wrote Amazing Grace) and George Wallace (the Governor of Alabama who infamously preached; ''Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever''). All three of these men were feared and reviled, but celebrated by many as well. Then something happened which turned each of them around and transformed not only their own lives, but the lives of countless others. Saul became the Apostle Paul and spent his life dedicated to those he once would have slaughtered. John Newton wrote the beloved hymn “Amazing Grace” and wrote extensively on the evils of slavery. His conversion took 38 years by the way. It is seldom immediate. George Wallace was shot in 1972 by a would-be-assassin. He recalled as he lay on his back, blood pooling on the ground, a light came into his heart and as his son later remarked “this was his first step on the road to Damascus.” Wallace poured himself into Bible study and found a new faith system that did not allow discrimination and hatred. He asked his former enemies for forgiveness. Congressman John Lewis, for one, offered it to him saying; “George Wallace should be remembered for his capacity to change.”
Storytelling and Use of Resources to Stem the Tide of Prejudice; It’s Always a God Thing
Telling your own story and listening to the fears of those to whom we minister are critical elements in the work we do to help people find their way. There are important questions to ask ourselves when developing such stories. This involves self-examination and seeking to find the roots of prejudices. Among them are these;
Do you remember the attitudes your parents had about other races, religions, ethnic groups when you were a child?
How did your prejudice develop?
Can you recall a time when you held prejudiced attitudes or beliefs or acted in a discriminatory manner because your group of friends expected you to?
Can you think of a prejudiced attitude you have held toward a group of people?
Have you ever been the target of discrimination? If so, how did this negative treatment make you feel?
Do I hold any stereotypes that may lead to excluding, avoiding, and biased treatment of others?
Have you witnessed racism toward any racial or ethnic groups?
Are you aware of racism in your community?
In addition to the stories we develop, there are also some excellent tools available to us that would help create dialogue and build bridges between groups. Among them is the Sojourners Study Guide and Book by Jim Wallace called “America’s Original Sin”. I have used them in my work over the years and find them to be extremely helpful to participants in exploring belief systems and building community. A copy of the study guides are provided here in pdf form for your use. There is a virtual learning series called “Racial Equity & Liberation” which is also quite valuable and easy to access. Another good current resource guide was developed by Yusef Mgeni in 2017.The time for action is now. Clare Hanrahan, the social activist, leaves us with this formidable warning;“Like the deadly currents in the Mississippi River, racism still lurks about even when much of the surface seems calm. Today, its poisons are rising again like a deadly fog off the surface of deep and troubled waters.”
Here is the truth
Fear of others is the fundamental emotion that guides prejudice and discrimination. It always searches for a scapegoat. When we develop a desire to change through the intervention of a “Power Greater the Ourselves” a realization begins to take hold. As one of my patients used to repeat over and over to me; “I’m not in charge. It’s a God thing.” We will realize that all of us are fundamentally the same, no matter what our age, gender, race, culture, religion, limits or disabilities may be. We all have vulnerable hearts and need to be loved and appreciated. We belong to a common humanity. As we begin to listen and really hear each other’s stories things begin change and everyone involved is transformed.
Robert Kenneth Jones is an innovator in the treatment of addiction and childhood abuse. In a career spanning over four decades, his work helping people recover from childhood abuse and addiction has earned him the respect of his peers.His blog, An Elephant for Breakfast, testifies to the power of the human spirit to overcome the worst of life’s difficulties. We encourage you to visit and share this rich source of healing, inspiration and meditation.
Contact Bob Jones on Linkedin