Aliyah and I are heading to the beaches of Florida in a few days. I was thinking a warm, sunny beachy Christmas would be fantastic this year. She, on the other hand, once she thought it through, was a little concerned. “Mommy, there’s no snow in Florida. How can it be Christmas without snow?”
Now, mind you, in all her years on this planet she has lived through more Christmases of color than white, but in her head is the idea that Christmas always means snow, and the possibility of that in Florida is remote to none. It’s interesting how expectations work their ways into our heads. Generalities and stereotypes invade our thinking without our even noticing, so that we expect something to be or behave in a certain prescribed way, even if it doesn’t fit our general experience.
It could be all the classic Christmas movies we watch: Miracle on 34th Street, White Christmas, Christmas in Connecticut. For some reason, northeastern United States has become our standard for appropriate Christmas weather. I wonder about the cultural dominance of that area of the country.
So, we will not have a white Christmas, dear, unless you count the whitecaps on the waves.
Last Wednesday I attended my first meeting of the Provocateurs, a sister group of the Freethinkers, led by Fred, the science journalist who was kicked out of his church for talking about evolution (yes, Toto, we’re still in Kansas).
The purpose of their meeting is for dechurched or disillusioned people to discuss weighty matters of ethics, morality, belief, and life in an open, respectful, casual environment. Our makeup that night was four Christians, an ex-Mormon, and several atheists. I was especially impressed that so many turned out that evening since the outside temperature was 7 (how very glad I am the window in the ghetto Beamer is fixed).
Fred kicked off conversation with the question, “What is one action that you would consider moral?” The amount of agreement in our answers was impressive considering the diversity of belief systems. Answers included: caring for someone in need, honesty, standing up against injustice, and refraining from murder (ok, that’s more of a negative of an immoral act, and we didn’t all agree on the definition of murder). The next question spurred more disagreement, “What is the source of morality?” Offshoots of this question included, “Does morality change with time, culture, and situations? Must morality be given to us by some objective being outside the material world? If morality is doing more good than harm, how do you measure and balance harm and good? Would superior alien life forms view us in the same light that we view goldfish?”
Unfortunately, I had to leave before we delved into the second topic of the night, “if there were (is) no god, would we have to invent one?” inspired by a quote from Voltaire. My answer? Yes, yes we would.
What I especially appreciated about the evening, besides the scrumptious fruit dip (how did you make that, Jennifer?), was that as much as we disagreed, we did not attack one another. Instead, everyone listened to and respected each other, and we all came away with at least a little more knowledge, a little broader minds, and a little deeper friendships.
Unless, of course, something went terribly awry after I left.
The sixth veil reveals something insidious. “Nazi Germany, the Inquisition, Stalinism, the Crusades, these were what happened when reality was allowed to give way to cliché. Behind the sixth veil, like a pearl behind cheesecloth, was the realization that ‘the end of the world’ was the most dangerous cliché of all.”
Ah, clichés. Don’t you just love them? They remove all necessity of thought, introspection, openness to change, and creativity. Instead, they allow us to simply fall in with a simple party line that satisfies and pleases thousands, even while robbing the soul of its depth.
Has there ever been a politician elected to a prominent office without a handy cliché? (Here’s a fun quiz: how many US presidential slogans can you recall?) Parents, of course, rely heavily on clichés. They are a great way to answer the child’s “why” without ever actually answering it. Rest assured, though, that children will remember the clichés to pass down to their children and grandchildren.
Robbins claims that the most dangerous cliché is “the end of the world.” Most of us laugh at the image of a man walking the streets holding a sign that says, “The End of the World is Near.” We don’t really buy into this cliché, do we?
I remember watching a film in youth group at our family’s (denominational affiliation removed) church about the end of the world, “The Rapture.” Its intent was to scare the hell out of us, and it worked on me. For years after, chills would run down my spine whenever I walked into an empty room and couldn’t find anyone. “Oh no! The rapture came and I was left behind! I’m going to burn for eternity!” It was a powerful tool of control. None of us wanted to step out of line, lest Jesus decide to reject us at the end of times.
Then there are those that believe in and desire the end of times so firmly that they dedicate their lives to helping bring it about. The end is accompanied by great wars and tribulation, so the story goes, so if they can add to these, the end is sure to come more quickly. Just as dangerous are those who insist that all the violence and suffering are necessary, or at least inevitable, so make no effort to combat it.
Is there an end of times? Well, I guess everything that has a beginning has an end (oops, was that a cliché?) so quite likely there will be an end of times. But it is not ours to anticipate, bring about, or fear. Today is just today. Enjoy it and try not to mess it up too badly.
