I Read Banned Books

 As a subscriber to the New York Times, I get an e-mail each morning with the top stories in the news.  This morning, one of those stories was headlined:  "Book Ban Efforts Spread Across the US."  Frankly, it sent a chill up my spine.  It's nothing new, of course.  Banning books, especially in schools, has been going on for decades--centuries even!  In recent times, banned books have often been books about race, LGBTQ issues and stories about the Holocaust (as is the recent effort to ban Maus). 

When I was in what we called back in the sixties Junior High, I developed a taste for romance novels.  You know, the Harlequin-type stories about love lost and gained.  The ones with muscled men and voluptuous women on the covers.  Not porn--at least not technically--but hardly good literature.  But our local library had several shelve of them, and I started checking them out and devouring them.

One morning my mother got a phone call from our local librarian.  She was appalled that a thirteen-year-old boy was reading such things.  Did my mother know I was into such material?  Didn't she think it important that I restrict my reading to those volumes found in the children's room?

Much to her credit, my mother said, "No."  And in no uncertain terms told the librarian I was free to check out and read anything I might find in the library.  Even if it was rather lousy literature.  I, ultimately, wasn't going to harm me.  And probably, she said, I'd grow out of it.  Which I did.  In just a year or two I was reading Graham Green, John Steinbeck, Willa Cather, and more controversial writers like J. D. Salinger and Herman Hesse. 

I sometimes wonder if Mom had restricted my reading if I would have turned away from it altogether?  I don't know.  But I do know her permission allowing me to "read at will" resulted in a greatly expanded worldview.  

Banning books is not the answer--and Mom knew that fifty plus years ago. 
It's a lesson I'll never forget--and I hope others will soon learn.

I have a pin at home that says, "I Read Banned Book"--I guess (sadly) it's time to dig it out again.

A Matter of the Heart: A Word about Antisemitism

 

The recent incident in Texas points up yet again the importance of relations such as ours with Bat Yam.  For those who think antisemitism is a thing of the past, something confined to Nazi Germany, it was a frightening reminder that it still haunts our world.  I know it has proven very unsettling to my Jewish friends and neighbors.  And it is unsettling to me as well.

Annually our congregation is part of a pulpit exchange with our sister congregation Bat Yam--Temple of the Islands.  Bat Yam is a Reform Jewish congregation that shares our space.  We share a number of activities over the course of each year, some of which have been highlighted in previous posts on this blog.  And in many ways the highlight of our shared life was a trip we took to Israel which featured daily posts while we were traveling.  Many of our respective members have gotten to really know one another--and we all are better educated about the lives and faith of our counterparts.

I am not so naive as to think a relationship such as the one my congregation has with Bat Yam is the sole answer to antisemitism.  Certainly, tough laws and the faithful enforcement of them are important.  Being prepared to respond when there are life threatening circumstances is vital.  And speaking up whenever antisemitism or any other ugly bias surfaces is essential.  But long term the fear and hatred that lies at the root of antisemitism is a matter of the heart.  And hearts are truly changed only when we get to know each other at more than a mere surface level.  When I am able to see that you are at core a human being with many of the same concerns, interests, hopes and dreams as those that I have, then I can begin to treat you with respect, or at least with a sense of tolerance.

The reality is this:  my life is greatly enriched and expanded by the shared journey I am on with Bat Yam.  And so too the lives of my congregants.  For when we open our hearts to one another, we can be joined together in a powerful way.  Joined together as human beings, joined together with the Holy One.

Thoughts about God and a Close Call

This past Sunday an EF-2 Tornado ripped through our part of Fort Myers clocking winds up to 118
miles per hour.  It was a stormy morning throughout Southwest Florida, and the tornado here was not the only one registered.  But it missed out neighborhood, our community.  Not 200 yards from our home trees were felled, siding on buildings ripped off, even a roadside building with an icemaker in it was lifted off its foundation and dropped back down fifty feet away.  As I sit in my living room writing this I can hear the chainsaws clearing away fallen trees.  But though our community lost electricity due to damage to lines down the road, it was untouched.

I wasn't home.  I was on Sanibel, conducting worship.  It was stormy out there--lots of wind and rain and some thunder and lightning.  But no tornadoes.  Just the inconvenience of the internet going down in the middle of our livestream.  But Sanibel is well-known for its less than fully reliable internet.  My wife, though, was caring for my mother here in Fort Myers, and they took to the laundry room for shelter at one point.  But as I said, in the end the community was unscathed.

No doubt there are some within our neighborhood saying God spared us, God protected us, or something like that.  But that always bothers me.  Did God abandon, or worse yet punish, the hundreds of folks whose homes were damaged?  Did God look the other way as some thirty or so mobile or manufactured homes were totally destroyed?  I think not.  But that is the logical corollary to suggesting God spared us.

This is not a new conundrum.  Folks have pondered it for centuries.  And I'm not sure how to unravel it.  But for the moment, I am satisfied with suggesting that while God doesn't direct tornadoes or any other natural disaster, God does stand ready to support us when they occur.  And often that support comes in and through other people.

Just What Is Normal?

Here's a phrase I am hearing quite often these days . . . "When things get back to normal . . ."  It's usually said with a sigh, or a light chuckle.  But it expresses, more often than not, a bit of weariness, or impatience, or even, once in a whle, anger.  But what is normal?

I have a therapist friend who used to say, "Normal is just
a setting on a washing machine."  I'm not sure even that's true anymore, what with all the computerization one finds in appliances these days.  (My wife and I were looking at a new stove the other day with a very helpful appliance salesman.  Linda asked him if it had the old-fashioned kind of self-cleaning feature, or the new steam kind. The new er ones, he told us, are mostly all steam, because the old style, where you turned it up to 600 degrees for three hours, gets too hot for the computer-based parts.)

Whatever, my friend's point was that there really is no such thing as normal.  That the world changes all the time, and so do we.  Assuming we finally get past the pandemic, the world will be different than it used to be.  And while we will speak of that as "the new normal," it will quickly change into something different yet again.

I think we are wise to not be waiting for "normal" to return, whatever that was, but rather, doing our best to live here and now as fully (and as safely) as we can.  One day at a time.

Tired of Decision-making--Version 2022

Have you noticed?  It's a new year, but we seem to be faced with a lot of the same old challenges, and decisions we need to make.  Do I wear a mask?  Do I eat indoors at restaurants?  Do I watch church on my phone or laptop, or do I attend services in person?  Do I cancel a trip, or still try to navigate airports and ever-changing airline schedules?  And the list goes on.

For some of us it means making decisions about scheduled events.  Do we cancel or plunge ahead?  Do we go virtual or hybrid or all in person?  For others it means facing choices around surgery--having it or not?  Holding a wedding or memorial service?   Should my kid go to school or stay home and attend virtually?

There can be little question that it is all very wearing.  And as a result, we are having more difficulty dealing with other people.  Tempers are shorter.  Words are less kind.  Some communication cues are missing altogether.

I don't like making all the decisions required these days any more than the next person.  I get weary of them.  And I get short at times.  But I can do better.  We can do better, if we put our minds to it, and remember that key teaching in Judaism, Christianity and virtually (no pun intended) every other major religious tradition.  Love your neighbor as yourself.

Let's recommit in this new and challenging year, to do just that.

We'll all be better for it.