Iraq

I've been doing some reading as I consider my degree of involvement in the Christian Peace Witness for Iraq's March 16th demonstration in Washington, DC. Collected on their website are a number of statements on the war by various Christian denominations, many of whom will be represented at the upcoming event.

In my first bout of reading, one particular paragraph from a Presbyterian Church (USA) statement was of particular interest:

"Opposition to the projected action against Iraq was also expressed by a wide range of Protestant, Catholic, and Orthodox leaders in the United States, as well as Pope John Paul II. From August 2002 until February 2003 religious leaders appealed to President Bush multiple times citing opposition to preemptive military action, a fear of destabilizing the region, concern for the erosion of support for combating terrorism, and a desire to work within the structure of the United Nations. Leaders of the National Council of Churches of Christ, representing thirty-six denominations, called for restraint and a halt to the 'rush to war.' The Moderator and Stated Clerk of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) were consistent voices in the call for restraint along with the leaders of the other so-called mainline churches. The appeals regularly asked for a meeting between the president or his national security advisor and leaders of the mainline churches. Requests for such meetings were rejected by the administration. (For an overview of the opposition that came from religious bodies are Peter Steinfels, "Deaf Ears on Iraq," The New York Times, September 28, 2002.)"

I was not aware of the degree to which many Christian leaders spoke out on this one--not necessarily against any and all war, but at least advocating for more care and restraint in making war. It is outrageous to me that an allegedly Christian President who regularly, publicly uses Christian rhetoric to support his causes and whose agenda in the Middle East is reportedly informed by particular Christian eschatological beliefs could conceive of rejecting the appeals of huge portions of his "mainline" religious constituency in America and abroad for something as simple and straightforward as a meeting. As Steinfels points out, other statements of similar concern (such as the statement undersigned by by over 100 Christian ethicists) were similarly discarded. A Christian President indeed.

So dark the con of Bush that he has won the hearts and undying allegiance of millions of devoted church-goers across the country, convincing them in the face of much opposition that he represents their interests and convictions. It speaks of a strange dissonance between the folks in the pews and their own pastors and denominations. And the bizarre efficency of the President's PR team. And maybe easily played-upon fears of "the other." Or it could just be people looking for quick answers ("It's pure evil we're fighting!") in the messy world of international relations.

Off World announcement!

I've been having a lot of mental lapses into absurdity as of late. Last week I was sitting in a car stopped in traffic on I-76, staring out the front window. You could say I was contemplating the skyline. That's when I was struck by the absurdity of billboards. It was the scale that got me first--realizing how enormous a billboard has to be in order to convey a roughly magazine-size readable image at a distance. Consider with me how much physical space has been utilized in order to colonize our fields of vision. It got me thinking about a Gnostic/Platonic mind-body split in which psychological space becomes much more valuable than physical space.

Great architectural constructions have always played on psychological space, but it seems to me that the meaning of that visual space was always a logical extension from the meaning of the actual physical structure: A palace or cathedral was much bigger than it needed to be in order to create in the viewer a sense of grandeur, which is a utilization (a sort of exaggeration) of physical space to make a psychological impression. But what about when a massive structure is erected exclusively to pass on a photograph or written message, completely severed from any physically useful purpose?

The strange dis-proportionality of it all illustrates a general disregard for the physical environment (as in most cities). More broadly, billboards point to a physical existence that is subjugated, discarded, dominated by the world of ideas. Yet another cyclical pattern of careless abuse and fragmented meaning, another competitive relationship enacted between worlds that were meant to be constructively integrated.

Or in the case that my reactions seem more ridiculous than the billboard itself, at the very least we can pause for a moment to think about the great expenditures of creative energy and capital invested into capturing little pieces of our mental space for a few seconds.

Fred Rogers

Today, as I do every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I took bus routes 60 and 23 to arrive at my job at Germantown high school. Despite the extreme cold, it was a beautiful afternoon. Between gazing out of the bus windows at the sharp, slanting, yellow afternoon light and being distracted by the bewildered ramblings and raspy, plaintive singing of a 250-pound retarded gentleman sitting a few seats away, I didn't get a whole lot of the usual reading done. However, one thing that I did discover from my book on Henri Nouwen is that he and Fred Rogers were good friends.

This evening I (naturally) turned to Wikipedia in order to read up on Fred Rogers. What follows are five excerpts from the article which I consider worthy of passing on:

1. "Rogers had a life-changing moment when he first saw television in his parents' home. He had planned to enter seminary after college, but had been diverted into television after his first experience as a viewer; he wanted to explore what the medium was capable of. 'I went into television because I hated it so. And I thought there was some way of using this fabulous instrument to be of nurture to those who would watch and listen.' ...Ultimately [after working for NBC in New York], while he did want to remain in children's television, Rogers decided that commercial television's reliance on advertisement and merchandising undermined its ability to educate or enrich young audiences, and quit NBC."

2. "In 1954, he began working at WQED, a Pittsburgh public television station, as a puppeteer on a local children's series, The Children's Corner. For the next seven years, he worked with host Josie Carey in unscripted live TV, and developed many of the puppets, characters and music used in his later work, such as King Friday XIII, and Curious X the Owl. Rogers first began wearing his famous sneakers when he found them to be quieter than his work shoes when he moved about behind the set... For eight years during this period, he would leave the WQED studios during his lunch breaks to study theology at the nearby Pittsburgh Theological Seminary."

3. About 2,700 people were present at his public memorial service in Pittsburgh, his hometown. "Outside, a number of members of an anti-gay organization protested over his teachings about tolerance and acceptance, while about 150 supporters of Mr. Rogers from gay rights and peace groups marched in counter-protest, singing songs from Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood."

4. In an interview with TV Guide, Fred related the following anecdote: "[He] had been driving the same car for years, an old second-hand Impala. Then it was stolen from its parking spot near the WQED studio. Rogers filed a police report, the story was picked up by local news outlets, and general shock swept across town. Within 48 hours, the car was back in the spot where he left it, along with a note saying "If we'd known it was yours, we never would have taken it!"

5. "During the 1997 Daytime Emmys, the Lifetime Achievement Award was presented to Rogers. The following is an excerpt from Esquire Magazine's coverage of the gala, written by Tom Junod:

"Mister Rogers went onstage to accept the award — and there, in front of all the soap opera stars and talk show sinceratrons, in front of all the jutting man-tanned jaws and jutting saltwater bosoms, he made his small bow and said into the microphone, 'All of us have special ones who have loved us into being. Would you just take, along with me, one minute to think of the people who have helped you become who you are. One minute of silence.'

"And then he lifted his wrist, looked at the audience, looked at his watch, and said, 'I'll watch the time.' There was, at first, a small whoop from the crowd, a giddy, strangled hiccup of laughter, as people realized that he wasn't kidding, that Mister Rogers was not some convenient eunuch, but rather a man, an authority figure who actually expected them to do what he asked. And so they did. One second, two seconds, three seconds — and now the jaws clenched, and the bosoms heaved, and the mascara ran, and the tears fell upon the beglittered gathering like rain leaking down a crystal chandelier. And Mister Rogers finally looked up from his watch and said softly, 'May God be with you,' to all his vanquished children."

Read more about Fred Rogers (about his upbringing, his support of VCR technology and more) in the full Wikipedia article. And/or check out his Wikiquote page.