
From deisenst@coin.org Wed Mar 28 23:42:48 2001
Date: Fri, 23 Mar 2001 01:27:43 -0600 (CST)
From: "David D. Eisenstein" <deisenst@coin.org>
To: Jeff Brotemarkle <jbrotema@coin.org>
Cc: "Cheryl L. Hill" <cheryllhill@yahoo.com>,
    Habadasher Soup -- David Ackerman <david_ackerman@yahoo.com>,
    Kelly Lasiter <kcl78@yahoo.com>,
    Lucrecia Culberson <lculbe6495@aol.com>,
    "Rev. Rhymes Moncure" <RevRhy@aol.com>, Val Hinshaw <vhinshaw@coin.org>
Subject: Re: A definition of religion

Dear Jeff and Habadashers,

Thank you for writing back and for you thoughtfulness in your response.  I
am glad that I did not make you mad (at least I assume I didn't), because
I was a little apprehensive about sending a scolding note, especially to
the whole group and not just to you.  I am so very glad you decided to
share with us about your Mom.  I wish I could help heal what you went
through.  Many families must have their closet-skeletons; as having met
your Mother, that kind of abusive behavior you describe wasn't to me
readily apparent as being part of what she did; but I was *company* when
visiting, not family, which probably makes all the difference in the
world. 

Really, I feel honored that you would be comfortable enough here to say
what is on your mind, controversial or no.  I am glad that you challenge
traditional western ways of thinking, and that you question some or many
of the behaviors of humans purporting Christianity.  Whenever you have
said something like, "but you can't say that at church," I have winced
some, because I know I have experienced (but only rarely) what can happen
when you say something that cannot be said in church or Sunday School or
something.  People get defensive when you say something that threatens
their beliefs.  (Most of my experience is that you *can* say almost
anything in church; but what matters in terms of being outcast or not
depends on *how* you say it far more than *what* you say.  And also to
whom.)

I remember teaching an adult Sunday School class for 5-6 weeks a number of
years ago that must have been really controversial.  I kept getting
arguments, because I taught from a non-Biblical text that seemed to be
Biblical in character, called "As a Man Thinketh," by James Allen
(1864-1912).  (It's on my website if you'd like to have a look, at
	<http://members.gtw.net/~deisenst/growth/thinketh/contents.html>)

I prepared weekly lessons by typing this 19th-century (I assume) text and
making copies for everyone in Sunday School, giving them a copy of the
next week's lesson, one week at a time.  I had a partner who knew the
Bible well, and she helped me by finding Bible verses that seemed to
parallel (if not confirm some of) the teachings of the booklet.

One young lady in the class (a social worker who worked in a medical
center) after awhile really objected to the material, because the material
seemed really outmoded to her; a relic from a previous time.  I felt the
material timeless, yet not without questionable material or error.  One
older man in the class was most garrulous:  He wanted to talk about
anything and everything except the material of the class; and sometimes it
took all my effort to get him to attend to the lesson rather than talking
about rural farm property near Marshall, Missouri, or the real-estate
market in Boonville or Columbia.

After the series of lessons were done, it seemed no one wanted to have a
Singles Sunday School class anymore.  Perhaps the leader of the class
provided an environment conducive to lack-of-discipline, and by the time
the class was over, everyone was sick of the power struggles happening
every week in the class.  It really seemed a shame, for careful,
thoughtful study, done with humility and grace, of a work like this in the
light of scripture may have been very good.

While teaching the class, I made the mistake of the charlatens.  Not
really knowing the Bible, I ended up occasionally using it as a tool to
show how what I was teaching was right whenever somebody came up with an
objection to it.  That is, I used portions of the Bible to prove a point,
perhaps quoting scripture even out-of-context, to prove the point.  It
made me right and made the other(s) wrong.  That was important to me at
the time.  Now I see its pettiness and the enervation it likely created:
rather than the Holy Spirit present in the Sunday School room, more likely
in there was the proud Eisenstein Spirit, teaching Eisensteinism rather
than the holiness of God, Christianity, or even Methodist Christianity.
With that supremist, opinionated attitude of the teacher, it was a project
doomed from the get-go.  

But you know what?  We all make mistakes; even pastors, even Sunday School
teachers, even mothers:

    "... Sometimes people leave you
       halfway through the wood.
     Others may deceive you.
       You decide what's good.

     You decide alone,
     but no one is alone.

     Mother isn't here now (wrong things right things)
       Who knows what she'd say? (Who can say what's true?)
     Nothing's quite so clear now (Do things, fight things)
       Feel you've lost your way?

     You decide, but 
     you are not alone.
     Believe me.  No one is alone.

     People make mistakes,
       Fathers,
          Mothers,
     People make mistakes,
       Holding to their own
       Thinking they're alone.

     Honor their mistakes ... (Fight for their mistakes)
        (Ev'rybody makes)
             One another's terrible mistakes
     Witches can be right,
     Giants can be good,
     You decide what's right,
     You decide what's good.  Just remember

     Someone is on your side, our side, (our side,)
       Someone else is not.
     While you're seeing your side, our side, (our side,)
       Maybe you forgot:

     They are not alone.
     No one is alone."

	-- excerpt from song "No One Is Alone", from the musical
	   _Into_The_Woods_, by Stephen Sondheim.

In my opinion, so as long as discussion doesn't erupt into flamage, and as
long as folks who read this list don't want to go away, I welcome
controversy here.  Though some people may tire of being apologists.

The key to Habadasher Soup is mixing a pot of ingredients, lots of
different kinds, in a hat over a fire -- or a kettle in the kitchen.  The
group is, I hope, nourishing to its participants, helpful in some ways,
allowing us to share, accept, listen, and feel listened-to.  The hat may
be holey (like the hat on Smokey the bear), or arched (like a Cardinal's)
or ten-gallon (like a cowboy's) or flowery (like Minnie Pearl's).  The
hats worn and the ingredients of the soup are up to all of you who are
willing to participate.

Please forgive me and the group if you do share and your sharing seems to
be met with resounding silence.  It shouldn't.

I thank God that you all do.  And Jeff, thanks again for sharing.

	With love,
	David



