Angels carved from calamari
Candles stuck in ‘Gansett bottles
Santa in a red Ferrari
Christmas in the Ocean State
Big Blue Bug blinks big red nose
Off-key carols by Cardi brothers
River burns and saxophone blows
As snow-flakes fill Rhode Island skies
Forgiveness swells inside of us
Except for all those politicians
Who threw us under the RIPTA bus
But hope is what this season brings
That once again our littlest state
Can embolden our diversity
And show the world that small is great.
c2014pn
Monday Dec 23, 2013
North Kingstown, RI – Happy Holidays Ocean State and fellow futurists … This is Bob Plain and as always I am podcasting to you from The Hideaway on the banks of the Mattatuxet River behind the Shady Lea Mill in North Kingstown, Rhode Island. But this is a special edition of the RI Future podcast celebrating that solstice time of year – or, as we call it here in America, Christmas.
Because so many of us suffer from seasonal affective disorder, and maybe take a little bit of umbrage at all the wanton consumerism posing as peace on earth and goodwill towards all people, we put together an extended podcast today dedicated to all the Christmas tunes Jesus would want us to spin at his birthday party … none are about how disgustingly sweet our lives can be or religious dogma or getting presents. Instead our playlist – ranging from rap to rock and from punk to funk – are about the real reason for the season: building community between our brothers and sisters during this otherwise dark and depressing time of year.
Footnotes:
John Lennon “Happy Xmass (War Is Over)
The Kinks “Father Christmas”
Stevie Wonder “Someday at Christmas”
Woodie Guthrie “1913 Massacre”
The Mighty, Mighty Bosstones “This Time of Year”
The Flaming Lips “Christmas at the Zoo”
Run DMC “Christmas Is”
The Sonics “Don’t Believe in Christmas”
The Ramones “Merry Christmas, I don’t want to fight tonight”
Robert Earl Keen’s “Merry Christmas from the Family”
Steve Earle “Christmas Time in Washington”
Billy Squier “Christmas Is the Time to Say I Love You”
Simon and Garfunkel “Silent Night”
MXPX “Auld Lang Syne”
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An article in the online Providence Journal noted “perennial political candidates Christopher and Kara Young” placed a Nativity scene at the base of the State House Christmas tree on Thursday. The event was held, according to the report, as a counterpoint to the banner the Humanists of Rhode Island, with full permission from the governor’s office, put up on Tuesday morning. (Full disclosure: I am the president of HRI.) Of course, the Nativity scene could not be a reaction to HRI’s banner because the same group of people put up the same Nativity at the base of last year’s Holiday tree, when there was no Humanist banner present. (The December 22, 2012 ProJo article covering that event is behind a paywall.)
Chris Young’s statement, that “We have as much a right as anyone else to be here” is absolutely true. I know he was trying to make a big, dramatic point about reclaiming the Rhode Island State House for Catholic, Christian values, but he’s a little bit late to the game (as he was last year as well.)
Chris and Kara Young’s Nativity scene is the 9th Nativity scene presently set up for public viewing in the Rhode Island State House. There were already eight other Nativities in the State House by the time they organized their ceremony. I think if you are trying to make the point that religious imagery and icons are appropriate to display in government buildings, you might want to find a government building that is not already fill to bursting with religious imagery and icons.
A ninth Nativity seems rather pointless, doesn’t it?
Despite the best efforts of the Young’s to permanently display their Nativity at the base of the Christmas Tree in the main rotunda, it has been moved to a table on the second floor, not too far from the table displaying the Humanists of Rhode Island’s banner.
The Young’s are being supported in their efforts by the Thomas More Society, which is like a Catholic version of the ACLU that fights for expanding theocracy rather than democracy. In conjunction with a group calling themselves American Nativity Scene, they have committed to erecting a Nativity display in every state capital in the United States. I guess they can scratch Rhode island off their list, because our Capital is crawling with baby Jesuses (Jesii?)
Governor Chafee is opening the State House to people who might want to see all the decorations in the State House tonight until 9pm and tomorrow for 4-9pm in conjunction with Waterfire. This will be a great opportunity to see what all the fuss is about and enjoy the beauty of our state capital building. One thing you won’t see at the State House tonight? The Hanukah Menorah, which despite reports that say otherwise, was taken down when Hanukah ended.
Below, find some additional shots of Chris and Kara’s Nativity scene.
Finally, here’s the sole banner extolling the virtues of secular government and separation of church and state.
Governor Chafee’s recent decision to let the giant evergreen dominating the State House rotunda be officially called a “Christmas Tree” rather than a “Holiday Tree” as has been the tradition since at least the Carcieri administration, is unfortunate. Chafee has been a very good advocate of church-state separation, fighting the good fight even when there was a political cost to doing so. Now that he is leaving office, one would think Chafee has nothing to lose by sticking to his guns on the issue, but for whatever reason Chafee has conceded the argument to the DePetro’s, Costa’s and Tobin’s of Rhode Island…
However, the Humanists of Rhode Island have more important issues to concern themselves with.
We’re holding a Blood Drive.
For the entire month of December anyone can go to any Rhode Island Blood Center location or Blood Drive van and use the code 3481 to give blood in solidarity with the Humanists of Rhode Island and the secular values our state was founded upon.
Giving blood isn’t a showy display of religious belief, and chances are no one will notice or thank you for it, but I promise that doing so will save more lives than displaying large religious icons in the State House rotunda ever could.
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“We are looking for a couple with a newborn baby,” Ani said quietly. “We think the baby may have been born yesterday. Although, it might not be until tomorrow. We are a little uncertain. Have there been any births today?”
Not only did she have three strangely dressed foreigners standing before her, their question was almost equally as absurd as their presence. To mollify them, the nurse said there had been several births that day. When these three strangers asked to see the babies, the nurse, at first, said it was impossible. But since they were persistent and she began to lose her fear of them, she told them they would have to wait until an orderly was free to accompany them.
After about an hour they were escorted up to the maternity ward. Standing in front of the plate glass window and staring into the room with the small, individual baby beds, the three visitors were somewhat taken aback. They had not expected to see the babies separated from their mothers. Disappointed they realized that the child they were looking for, the family in Isma’il’s vision, would not be found in the hospital.
Thanking the orderly and the nurse, Ani, Appar, and Isma’il left the hospital feeling frustrated and lost. They had not gone ten feet before a young woman, bundled against the cold, ran into Appar. Both were surprised and stopped. The woman started to apologize, when she saw who was standing in front of her. She stopped in mid-sentence and then continued, “Who are you? What do you want?”
Without really thinking about what he was saying, Appar answered the woman’s question. “My name is Appar. I am travelling with my friends. We have come a long way and are looking for a couple with a newborn baby.”
Anna was speechless. What does this all mean?, she thought to herself. Regaining her composure, she said, “I have just come from a couple with a newborn. They are in an empty lot about a fifteen minute walk from here. I would take you there, but I am already late for work. Just go in this direction two blocks, turn left until you get to North Glenwood Avenue. They are one block down.” Having said this, Anna ran into the hospital.
Following the directions given them by Anna, 20 minutes later they saw the empty lot on North Glenwood. Despite the cold and the desolation of the surroundings, looking at the couple from a distance the three weary travellers felt a sense of serenity and peace emanating from this family huddled by the fire. Each one knew that this was who they were looking for. They had arrived.
Jose and Maura sensed their presence and watched as the three strangers approached. They had experienced many wonders in this night, but these visitors were, without a doubt, the most unexpected. As Ani knelt down to see the baby better, Isma’il spoke, “We have travelled far from eastern lands to see you. Each of us have had a vision about you and your child. We do not completely understand what this birth means, but each, in our own faith traditions, have seen that this child is of great importance. We have come to see the child, speak to you of our knowledge, and leave with you small tokens of our esteem.”
Having spoken, Isma’il reached into his white robes and pulled out a small pouch. Reaching into the bag he removed a roll of money. Looking at Jose and Maura Isma’il said, “Here is $1,000. Our great prophet Mohammed said, ‘If you go to bed with a full belly and your neighbor goes to bed with an empty stomach, you are not a Muslim.’ In this world, if you have food and money you are like a king. May this gift bring with it many blessings.”
Bowing, Isma’il handed Jose the money.
Appar, who had been leaning forward to better see the child, pulled the cord that had been holding a small bottle around his neck over his head. Handing the bottle to Jose, he said, “This bottle contains water taken from the River Ganges. In our faith tradition this water offers healing to those who suffer from illness. We believe the River Ganges water can dispel all sorrows that life can afflict on one. I fear the child will need this.”
Ani, who had been stroking the child’s cheek, reached into her robes and pulled out a piece of rolled up paper. Handing the scroll to Maura, Ani said, “This is a birth chart. I have studied the stars, planets and other important signs. They tell me that your child is destined for a task of great importance. In my faith tradition, this chart helps to guide us on our life’s journey. May it serve your child well.”
Appar, curiosity over-coming him, asked, “What is the child’s name?”
Jose and Maura replied, “Her name is Hope.”
There was a long silence as each one gathered near the fire thought about the appropriateness of this name. Ani was the first to break the silence. “The immigration agency in Chicago requested that we report in, telling them of our location and about the child. But I am afraid, if we tell them about you and the child, they will be inclined to take the child from you. Therefore, we will plan to return to our homes from another airport.”
Jose spoke first. “We, too, will be moving on in the morning, as we do not want to draw attention to ourselves or Hope. Thank you for your visit and your gifts. We will treasure them always. When Hope is of age, we will tell her of all that has happened this night.”
Then Maura said, “Thank you. Thank you for the gifts, but even more for your journey here. Your coming takes away some of the uncertainty of our situation and will strengthen our resolve to care for our child.”
After bowing deeply, Isma’il, Ani, and Appar walked back toward the hospital, hoping to catch a taxi back to the bus station. As Maura watched them leave, she reflected on the events of the last nine months, thanking God for the wondrous gifts of support and guidance, and pondering what the future held for Hope.
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RI Future serialized Rev. Bill Sterritt’s 26-page short story throughout the holiday season. Here’s my post on the Amicable Congregational Church’s nativity story and scene.
- Chapter 1 – Jose Crosses the Border
- Chapter 2 – Jose’s Union Sympathies
- Chapter 3 – A Child Bearing a Child
- Chapter 4 – A Miraculous Pregnancy
- Chapter 5 – A Hospital Turns Them Away
- Chapter 6 – Jose and Maura, Out In the Cold
- Chapter 7 – A Baby Is Born
- Chapter 8 – A Man Named Gabe
- Chapter 9 – A Baby Named Hope
- Chapter 10 – David Eagle Wing
- Chapter 11 – A Child To Die For
- Chapter 12 – Anna on the Nightshift
- Chapter 13 – The Long Journey West
- Chapter 14 – ‘We Are Joined for a Purpose’
- Chapter 15 – We Are Close
This is my Christmas present to everyone who has ever been overcome by stress during the holiday season and also to all the progressives who works so hard at making Rhode Island a better place. George Bailey got the holiday blues too, and he even doubted his own tremendously beneficial influence on Bedford Falls.
Happy holidays and I hope you enjoy the movie … it’s my all-time favorite.
George Bailey’s famous speech about community:
Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you’re talking about… they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father didn’t think so. People were human beings to him. But to you, a warped, frustrated old man, they’re cattle. Well in my book, my father died a much richer man than you’ll ever be!
And his even more famous speech on the economy:
]]>You’re thinking of this place all wrong. As if I had the money back in a safe. The money’s not here. Your money’s in Joe’s house…right next to yours. And in the Kennedy house, and Mrs. Macklin’s house, and a hundred others. Why, you’re lending them the money to build, and then, they’re going to pay it back to you as best they can. Now what are you going to do? Foreclose on them?
“Without a doubt we are joined together for a purpose,” said Ani. “I will study all my charts again. Perhaps with the information you have shared with me, I will be able to better understand what they are foretelling and what is expected of us. I have the feeling we should not waste any time. You two are surely very tired from your trip here. Get some rest. I will go back and study the charts.”
With that said all three stood up and left the tea room. Isma’il and Appar returned to the retreat center to rest. Ani headed to Library of Tibetan Works and Archives to consult the astrological and astronomical tables and charts. She wished she were back at the Tibetan Medical and Astrological Institute in Gangchen Kyishong, the center for the study of traditional Tibetan medicine. There would have been a greater depth of materials. She would just have to make do with what was here in McLeod Gunj.
The hours of study flew by. Ani had forgotten how much she had enjoyed her five years studying to become an astro-practitioner. Still this project was proving almost too difficult, even for Ani, who had a special talent for interpreting the signs. All her arranging and rearranging of numbers around stars and planets did nothing to lift the veil of secrecy. Just as she was about to give up, Ani remembered the new light she had seen in the northern sky recently. It had puzzled her, because she had never seen it before and because it stayed in a constant, stable position in relationship to the North Star.
Ani added this new object on the horizon to her calculations. Adjusting the charts accordingly, she began to read the results, and couldn’t believe what she saw. Bounding from her chair, quickly putting the charts and books back in their place, Ani left the library and ran as fast as she could back to Tushita Retreat Centre. Without even noticing that it was after midnight Ani began to pound on the guest room door. After what seemed like forever, Appar opened the door and Ani burst in.
“You won’t believe what I have found out!” she exclaimed. Standing and panting Ani looked into the bewildered faces of Isma’il and Appar.
Disappointed, but determined, they sat outside the embassy gate, filled out the form, and waited for the office to reopen. When the gates opened, they were ready. Appar lifted up his robe and ran ahead of the crowd to the visa office door. As the door opened, a voice said, “First!” and all three stared to enter. A gruff voice from a man in uniform followed with, “One at a time!”
Appar turned to the man who had spoken and said quietly, “We are traveling together.”
“I don‟t care,” the Marine said harshly. “The rule is one at a time, and so you will enter one at a time.”
Not wanting to make a scene, Ani and Isma‟il stepped back and waited. Appar walked to the desk in front of him. Sitting behind the desk dressed in western attire was a native of India. He looked up as Appar approached and raised one eyebrow with both an amused and bewildered look. He studied Appar for a full minute, looking him up and down, from his long, stringy, unkempt hair and beard, to his tattered, faded yellow robe with a small bottle around his neck, to his bare feet.
Appar waited. Finally the man spoke, “A sannyasin? By all appearances from southern India, I would say. You are here seeking a visa? I know your devotion is to wander, but is not the United States a bit too far? You supposedly renounced all the material goods of this world. How do you plan to pay for your travel?”
“I travel with friends,” Appar said, pointing to Isma‟il and Ani. “They are financing my trip.” The clerk looked back at the two standing in the doorway.
“Wait a minute. A sannyasin from south India in the company of an African Muslim and a Tibetian Buddhist nun. What are you doing in the north? Why do you wish to go to the United States?”
Uncertain of exactly how to explain their mission, Appar replied, “We are following a vision. We feel there is something of great importance in or near Chicago. And time is of the essence.”
“Not so quick, friend,” the clerk said haughtily. “These things take time and this is a most unusual group. We will have to do a background check. Leave your applications with me and come back in a week.”
Frustrated, the three handed the clerk their forms and left. They had been given and appointment for an interview the next week, so they would not have to wait in line again.
The week passed slowly. They wandered the streets of Delhi, looking at the sights of India‟s capital, but their thoughts were filled with the journey that lay before them. When the time for the appointment came, they arrived early, sitting on the hard, wooden chairs outside the visa office. Their appointment was for 9:30 a.m., but it was well pat 10 before they were called into the office.
The official behind the desk, an American, welcomed them, said his name was Harold, and apologized for the delay. After studying the paperwork, he looked up and considered the trio.
“This is a most unusual request, from a most unusual group travel ling together. Our background check on all three of you came back negative. Our relations with the Sudan are not favourable.” He paused, then continued, “I don‟t recall ever receiving a visa request from an Indian sadhu.
And you, Ms. Rinpoche, according to our reports, have gone through much in your lifetime. Only your request for a visa has been cleared without question.”
Harold asked them for more information about their relationship to one another and about the vision that was leading them to the United States. Isma‟il, Appar and Ani answered all his questions openly and honestly.
Closing out his interview Harold said, “It is a curious mission, but I see no danger to my country in your traveling there. In fact, listening to what you have said, I would say what you are looking for is not in Chicago.
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Check back here tomorrow for the next installment in Rev. Bill Sterritt’s modern adaptation of the nativity story. RI Future is serializing Sterritt’s 26-page short story throughout the holiday season. Here’s my post on the Amicable Congregational Church’s nativity story and scene.
- Chapter 1 – Jose Crosses the Border
- Chapter 2 – Jose’s Union Sympathies
- Chapter 3 – A Child Bearing a Child
- Chapter 4 – A Miraculous Pregnancy
- Chapter 5 – A Hospital Turns Them Away
- Chapter 6 – Jose and Maura, Out In the Cold
- Chapter 7 – A Baby Is Born
- Chapter 8 – A Man Named Gabe
- Chapter 9 – A Baby Named Hope
- Chapter 10 – David Eagle Wing
- Chapter 11 – A Child To Die For
- Chapter 12 – Anna on the Nightshift
- Chapter 13 – The Long Journey West
Following the path through the forest from the Shugseb Nunnery to the center of McLeod Gunj, Ani Rinpoche hardly noticed the incline or the smell of the pines or the beautiful rhododendron. Even the view of the Dhauladhar range and the Kangra Valley below failed to catch her attention.
She was in a hurry.
Ever since she had gotten Isma’il’s letter she knew something new and exciting was unfolding. She had read it in the stars and the alignment of the planets. Even the animal signs, numbers and spirits seemed to point to something new, but she was unable to decipher the meaning. What was certain was the great excitement and urgency intimated in Isma’il’s letter.
Without even noticing Ani passed the Om Restaurant and turned up the road, heading to where the bus from Kotwali Bazaar would drop off its passengers. She arrived at the bus stop a bit late, but the bus was rarely on time. There really was no telling how late the bus might be, so Ani leaned against the wall of a local handicrafts shop and waited. With eyes closed Ani relaxed, allowing the bustling of people and the aroma of the shops to engulf her, and, just for a moment, she had the strong feeling of being back in Tibet.
No sooner had the feeling filled her, when all the horrors of her last years in Tibet, in prison, caused her to tense up with anxiety and fear.
Opening her eyes to escape the unwanted nightmare Ani saw to her great delight the bus turning the corner and heading toward her. As usual the bus was full. In addition to the many Tibetans on the bus living in exile in Dharamsala, Ani was always surprised by the number of tourists who came from around the world to see the Dalai Lama and to learn about their ancient faith tradition. She enjoyed the diversity, but was continually disappointed that the publicity surrounding the Dalai Lama seemed to have no effect on the Chinese government’s treatment of her people.
As the bus came to a halt, Ani scanned the crowd disembarking. Suddenly, he was there, standing in front of her. Isma’il Ahmad al-Azhar. He seemed even taller than she had remembered. His long white robe in combination with the white kufi on his head added to his elegant, almost royal, stature. His dark, almost black, face with the traditional tribal scars seemed much more worn and drawn than it had been when they first met four years earlier. But his eyes still shone bright with wisdom and joy.
“Ani-la!” exclaimed Isma’il, smiling a broad smile and bowing deep. Her eyes followed him fondly. Standing tall once more, he said, ” It is so good to see you again. I hope you are well.” As he continued to speak, Isma’il stepped aside, saying with a smile, ” Ani-la, you remember Appar, do you not?”
Ani could not believe her eyes. Isma’il’s coming was hard to grasp, but to see Appar as well was almost too much. But there he was, still wearing his old, worn robes and long, unkempt hair. “Welcome, Brother Appar,” she said, and then asked, “But how is it that your wanderings have brought you back here to Little Lhasa? Have you renounced renouncing?” They both smiled and bowed.
“It was the will of Allah,” stated Isma’il firmly, but with joy. “I saw him at the train station in Jullundur on my way here. He claims to have been waiting for me.”
“I am, of course, over-joyed to see you both,” Ani said. “Come, let us go to the guest house. The weather has been exceptional for late October and the walk will do us good. When we arrive, we can have some tea and you, Isma’il, can tell us what is of such great importance that you came all the way from Sudan to see me.”
‘Things have not been good in my country’
Isma’il picked up his small bag and the three of them began strolling toward Tushita Retreat Centre where Ani had reserved a room for Isma’il. On the way Isma’il told them what had happened since they had last seen each other.
“Things have not been good in my country. The civil war continues to destroy us through its never-ending violence. The Christians in the south are using violence indiscriminately. They have found a strong ally in the West, who has been using its economic might to render us poverty stricken. My brother Muslims also grow more vicious, while hiding behind the shadow of their supposed faith. How can either side be moved toward peace, when both have a knife at their throats? I feel more than ever that my Sufi tradition is needed in my country. But no one wants to hear about meditation and the inner life, about true peace, when guns are so readily available and hatred so strong.”
Ani and Appar listened in silence. Both knew first hand the destructiveness and horror of violence. They had heard the news of the escalating violence in Sudan and thought often of their friend Isma’il. The silence was broken as Ani pointed out that they had arrived at the Retreat Centre.
“Let us go in and then we can continue our conversation over tea,” Ani suggested.
After the arrangements had been made for Appar to share a room with Isma’il, they went into a small tea room next to the retreat center. When the tea was served, Isma’il continued his story.
“About three months ago I felt a strong voice, calling me to fast and pray. Leaving my home I went out to an isolated cave. On the third night of prayer and fasting a vision came to me. I saw a couple and their child. It was dark and they were huddled together, sharing warmth, protecting one another from the cold. I knew at once that Allah was with them, that they embodied the hopes and dreams of all humanity, and that they embodied all the pain and sorrow that keep hopes and dreams at a distance.
“As I continued to pray, I felt deep within me – I don’t know why, but I felt it strongly – that I was to return to you, Ani-la. Meeting Appar on the way was not a coincidence. I don’t know yet why we are to be together, but our gathering here is the will of Allah, of that I am certain.”
When Isma’il finished there was a deep silence. Appar and Ani both knew the truth of Isma’il’s words. They too had felt the pull of newness and gathering.
Ani broke the silence first. “I had seen there was something new in the stars and in the strange alignment of planets. I did not understand it, but your letter seemed to be related to what I was seeing in my charts.”
Nodding in agreement, Appar spoke. “While lost in a deep meditation, I was shown a strange path. It appeared to be a completely new pilgrimage. Standing at the beginning of the path had been you, Isma’il. Given what you have said, my image came to me about the same time as yours. I was in southern India at the time. I immediately stood up and headed north, allowing Shiva to guide me. When I arrived in Jullundur, I understood that I was to wait for you.”
“We are together now,” Isma’il said matter-of-factly. “What we must yet discern is why we are together. I continue to be haunted by the vision of this couple and their baby. Other than the fact that they are from the West, I know nothing.”
Appar spoke. “The strangeness of the path I saw was that it ended in total darkness, but there seemed to be light and something else on the other side of the darkness.”
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Check back here tomorrow for the next installment in Rev. Bill Sterritt’s modern adaptation of the nativity story. RI Future is serializing Sterritt’s 26-page short story throughout the holiday season. Here’s my post on the Amicable Congregational Church’s nativity story and scene.
- Chapter 1 – Jose Crosses the Border
- Chapter 2 – Jose’s Union Sympathies
- Chapter 3 – A Child Bearing a Child
- Chapter 4 – A Miraculous Pregnancy
- Chapter 5 – A Hospital Turns Them Away
- Chapter 6 – Jose and Maura, Out In the Cold
- Chapter 7 – A Baby Is Born
- Chapter 8 – A Man Named Gabe
- Chapter 9 – A Baby Named Hope
- Chapter 10 – David Eagle Wing
- Chapter 11 – A Child To Die For
- Chapter 12 – Anna on the Nightshift
Christ wasn’t born on Christmas Day
Forget what all the carols say
Or why talk-radio makes a fuss
This time of year belongs to us
The twenty-fifth of December
Is the day kids all remember
When the real world ceased to be
And gifts appeared beneath a tree
A healthy dose of make-believe
The sweet suspense of Christmas eve
Is all about the human birth
That welcomes childhood to this earth
Wise men, donkeys, manger hay
Cannot compete with Santa’s sleigh
So bow your head and say a prayer
To mankind’s love that we all share
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