A Father's Imprint

Today is Father’s Day. And so, I will observe one of those Ten Commandments: Honor Thy Father.

Confession #101: I attribute all my intellect, my curiosity, my love of language, and my questioning of religion to my father, Tom Stapleton. I believe he was most alive when he was waist-high in a lively debate on the ways, the meaning, the very existence of God. He used to say he was appropriately named, as he was the “doubting Thomas.” He seemed, in fact, proud of this moniker.

When he would try to rouse discussion on inequities of the world, or inconsistencies in the bible, my mother, sister, and I would stay steadfastly faithful and optimistic. My mother shuddered when Daddy would pick a verbal fight at the dinner table. I was the one who dared to fight back. This, I believe, paved the way for me later to somewhat deftly maneuver in my classroom around the deeply philosophical and controversial issues that lie in literature.

He did not teach me to question. He simply questioned. He did not force me to form arguments; he simply presented them.

Ah, but a deeply questioning soul is often a tormented one, because after all, those questions are inevitably left unanswered. In the end, he did not doubt the existence of God, only how He could “allow” so many people in the world to suffer when so many others live life so privileged.

My father was a tortured soul.

Daddy left this world several years ago. For such the intellectual he was, the ravages of Alzheimer’s must have been particularly tortuous.

I have become my father’s child. I believe he would be smiling at me today, that I have picked up the proverbial pen (or keyboard) and now pose my own questions. I wish we could be having this linguistic sparring in person.

Happy Father’s Day, Daddy. And, thank you.

Whoo-Hoo, Confession #100 - What if...

This being the occasion of my milestone 100th Confession, I shall pause in this blog and make the whole entry a confession.

Confession #100:

So far, this bible is not all I expected it to be. I expected, or hoped, to read even a brief passage and come away enlightened and inspired. Now, before some of you attempt to assure me that this will come down the road once Jesus enters the picture, I remind you I can only address this as a virgin – one page at a time.

Clearly, the Old Testament is dominated by warfare, warfare, warfare. I see less and less of God even in its telling. There are little “rules to living” at this point. It is saturated in testosterone, polarity, and redundant storylines recorded by varying storytellers. Where is God in this and where am I?

What I am about to say will sound blasphemous to many, but again, I merely ask the questions. I am not afraid to do that.

What if, just what if, these early artifacts of antiquity known as the Scriptures were never meant to be seen as historical document, but rather as stories? Simple as that. Has anyone ever thought of that? People keep arguing whether or not these events happened, but what if those who recorded them were not even trying to hand them down as “scripture” or words of God, but darn interesting stories, with or without lessons, like Aesop's Fables?

I mean no disrespect to believers; after all, I have my own measure of beliefs, which I’ll reveal by the end of my literary journey. But again, I just stick my neck out and ask the questions.

“Questions are the creative acts of intelligence.” In that case, I must be flippin’ brilliant!

Peace.

Say good-bye to Shangri-La

Osel Hita Torres, who, at age 14 months, was chosen by the Dalai Lama as the reincarnation of a Tibetan spiritual leader, has decided to abandon his Buddhist order.

Can you imagine?

Can you imagine the pressured life he led, taken from his home and family, growing up unto watchful and expectant eyes? Eyes that looked to him for early wisdom and enlightenment?

Can you imagine living an existance totally cut off from the modern, secular world, to have adults around you seat you on a throne and consider you a god incarnate?

Can you imagine the internal torment he must have endured to have come to this difficult decision?

Can you imagine the loneliness of his existence?

Can you imagine the courage it required to leave this order, the only structure he ever knew?

Now age 24, he likens his life to living a lie and now calls himself a “spiritual scientific agnostic.” Wow. Wow. I find the paradoxical label of “spiritual…agnostic” most intriguing.

He is now studying film and catching up on the world outside his monastery.

Confession#97: I wonder how many of us just follow mindlessly the religions, traditions, routines we have been taught, so deeply ingrained in our psyche that to deviate follows with it a feeling of such betrayal and debasement. How many of us have the deep courage to shut out the noise of the religion we were raised in, seek solitude, and listen, really listen quietly to our own hearts and souls and minds, and follow what they reveal to us. Us as individuals, not the collective chant of the herd. If, in the silent solitude where the soul dwells, that same form of worship of our youth reveals itself, so be it. If not, can we walk to any different drum beat? Can we walk to the beat of OUR own drumming?

Confession #98: I wonder, what can a god tell me when he does not know first my world?

Confession #99: I wish Osel Hita Torres well.   Namaste ("The light within me honors the light within you.")

"Who is this David?"

Well, they didn’t live happily ever after (does anyone here?). Despite saving Saul’s life more than once, Saul continues to make promises of safety and reconciliation, then tries to have David killed until David is compelled to state, “The best thing I can do is escape to the land of the Philistines.” Now, am I the only one who says, HUH?” The same Philistines you have daily killed and plundered? DOUBLE-HUH!

Meantime, David takes not one but two more wives. (Saul had given Michel to another, I guess for spite.)

Confession #95: Really, folks, if our society continues to look to the Bible for policy making, why do we not accept polygamy? OR, perhaps we can keep this narrative in perspective and not take whatever is done as indications of God’s will.

Here is an interesting quote: “Where did you go raiding today?” I kid you not.

Anyway, Saul realizes he has lost the people’s support to David and the Philistines’ victory is imminent; that his (Saul’s) time is over and he asks his armor-bearer to aid him in his death. He refuses so Saul falls on his own sword, after which the armor-bearer kills himself too. Are you listening, Shakespeare? ‘Cause now we know where you stole this entire scene for Julius Caesar, with Brutus and Cato.

Confession #96: I am losing my sense of purpose in these stories. The warring seems purposeless, the leaders self-serving, and the women completely subjugated. I shall keep reading every word, but more quickly. And if the scenarios keep repeating I will spare you, dear reader.

Hang in with me. And tell me whatcha thinkin’…

"You S.O.P.R.W.!"

So, following David’s triumph, is Saul grateful? Well, yea, but also consumed with jealousy by his enormous popularity, even with his own son, Jonathan. “Jonathan became one in spirit with David and made a covenant with him because he loved him as himself. He took off his robe and gave it to David, along with his tunic, even his sword, his bow and his belt.” All I can say is, wow. And…hmmm.

Saul concocts an elaborate scheme to get David killed by offering him his daughter’s hand in marriage by telling him the price will be 100 Philistines’ foreskins. Ew. The idea here is that surely David will be killed in battle. Nope. David kills 200 Ph. for good measure and brings back assigned booty. Jeeze…

Even with David now his son-in-law, Saul remains jealous and afraid of him for the rest of his life. He fails at many attempts to kill David, who, with Jonathan’s help, escapes. Like a scene in a B movie, his wife even hides a makeshift dummy with goats’ hair to make it look like he’s sleeping.

“You son of a perverse and rebellious woman!” (an early forerunner to S.O.B.) Saul yells at Jonathan.

But Jonathan “had David reaffirm his oath of love for him because he loved him as himself.”

David flees to Gath but the king there feels threatened by him so he acts insane, “making marks on the side of the gate and letting saliva drool down his beard.” Ech. This David is one creative dude.

Saul continues to pursue David and kills whole villages along the way when they have helped him.

Here’s a twist of logic: David feels real badly about one threatened tribe and he tells one person, “Stay with me; don’t be afraid; the man who is seeking your life is seeking mine also. You will be safe with me.” Huh? What makes you think so? Oh, maybe the whole Goliath moment.

Anyway the next several pages are one incident after another of Saul pursuing David and him getting away, until David is in the position of killing Saul and he does not. He confronts him and appeals to his reason and better nature and they reconcile.

I think they lived happily ever after, but we’ll see.

Samuel dies; he is mourned by all. Yet, the whole next book is Samuel II. Seems this should all be titled after David because he really is the primary focus.

Confession #93: I am not trying to stir the pot, but I read Jonathan’s feelings for David being more than platonic. Ironically, a Jewish friend of mine recently mentioned Jonathan and she said, “He was gay, you know.” Well, how about that? And yet, if so, this is portrayed in the most positive and loving way, as he saves David over and over and “the two of them make a covenant before the Lord.” That could be any kind of promise. Regardless of the depth and nature of their relationship, I like seeing such a close bond between men.

Confession #94: I find Saul’s destructive jealousy of David quite revealing of an element of humans. It makes me wonder, is the mentor, teacher, parent, superior, ever REALLY happy when the subordinate exceeds his own achievements or popularity?