Religion sightings in the Grand Canyon

March 11, 2015

Religion is everywhere. It’s in our hearts and in our hands. We see it in coffee shops and on college campuses, on street corners and in the local mall.

With that in mind, whenever and wherever I travel I keep my iPhone on the ready, prepared to snap pictures of religious sightings as I come across them. This is what I call "spiritual sightseeing" and it can not only enrich your trips, but also your knowledge of religion and the place you are visiting.

Spiritual sightseeing involves touring experiences that open a traveler to the spiritual significance of a particular site, area or culture. Richard Ross, a travel blogger, said, "spiritual sightseeing involves experiencing a sense of internal emotion by touring a place with spiritual significance."

It is not only for serious pilgrims or participants in packaged tours in far-off locales. It can be incorporated into any itinerary in any location. And it's not just about big cathedrals or packaged spiritual "experiences." Some of my favorite spiritual sightseeing moments have been impromptu and intimate.

Recently, I was traveling in Arizona and visited the Grand Canyon. Here are a few highlights from my spiritual sightseeing shots:

1. The Café that doubles as Bahá'í meeting place

On our way to the Grand Canyon the group I was with stopped in Flagstaff for a little nectar of the gods -- coffee. Enjoying a delicious Café Viennese at Macy's European Coffee House my spiritual spidey-sense started to perk up. Suddenly, I saw spirituality everywhere. A Buddhist mandala -- a sacred geometric figure used for meditation -- behind the espresso machine; a Trinity symbol chalked onto a writing board in the men's room (yes, you read that right); and these words scribbled on the menu: "the Earth is one country and mankind its citizens."

This is a quote from the Bahá'u'lláh (aka "the Báb") the founder and final messenger of the Bahá'í Faith, a monotheistic religion that emphasizes the spiritual unity of humankind and views religious history as an unfolding revelation of God through a series of divine messengers, each of whom established their religion contextualized for the people and their capacity to understand God at that time. This list of messengers includes the Moses, Krishna, Buddha, Jesus, Muhammad, and others.

As I chatted with my barista, I discovered that Macy's Coffeehouse doubles as the local Bahá'í meeting room in Flagstaff. Soon, the spiritual sights were everywhere -- a portrait of the Báb, a poster of Bahá'í teachings, pictures of Bahá'í temples around the world. Who knew that in ordering a latté I would soon get a lesson in the flexibility and fluidity of Bahá'í faith in a snowy college-town in Northern Arizona? The lesson I learned? Bahá'ís are often persecuted, and have been from the beginning of their movement. There are relatively few temples throughout the world (the most famous being the Lotus Temple in New Delhi, India), and Bahá'ís are used to be fluid. Nowhere is this more the case than in Flagstaff where a long with a shot of espresso you can get a shot of religious literacy.

2. Navajo sandpaintings

Everywhere you go in Northern Arizona you will find "American Indian" or "Native American" kitsch. This isn't to denigrate the valuable art of Native American tribes in the Southwest, or elsewhere, but it is to call into question the commodification and co-opting of sacred symbols of indigenous religion for our economic and spiritual consumption. In the buffet-style spiritual marketplace of 21st-century America we often get overly excited by "authentic" indigenous religious artifacts and primitivize the living people who make them by purchasing them for our enjoyment. While they are beautiful, symbolic, and may be meaningful we must be reticent to consume another's culture and force them to conform their practice and material culture to our desires.

With that said, these "spiritual souvenirs" can be helpful entrées into understanding aspects of indigenous religion. Take "Navajo sandpaintings" for example. On the back of each sand painting, also called "dry paintings," is written: "according to the Navajo religion the universe is a very delicately balanced thing. If this balance is upset, some disaster -- usually an illness -- will follow. To restore the balance and harmony means performing one of many Navajo chants or ways. These complex ceremonies involve the use of herbs, prayers, songs, and sandpaintings. The sandpainting is done in a careful and sacred manner, according to the ancient knowledge of the art."

A sandpainting depicting the Zuni bear "fetish," a guardian spirit.

Indeed, sandpainting is a highly stylized and symbolic ritual among Navajo that involves trickling small amounts of crushed rock, pollen, or other dry materials into a design. That sandpaintings act as a sacred pathways, or "places where the gods come and go" in the Navajo language. They are used in curing ceremonies in which the gods' help is requested for harvests and healing.

The figures in sand paintings are symbolic representations of a story in Navajo mythology. They depict objects like the sacred mountains where the gods live, or legendary visions, or they illustrate dances or chants performed in rituals. For the Navajo, the sandpainting is not a work of art or a souvenir to be saved. Instead, it is a living, affective, and sacred entity that empowers the patient to transform his or her self (mind, body, and soul) via dynamic mythic symbols that re-create the chantway odyssey of the myth's main protagonist, causing those events to be re-lived in the present.

Sandpaintings are not unique to the Navajo. Tibetan Buddhists, Pueblo, Australian Aboringals, and others use sandpaintings, albeit in different ways, during religious ceremonies or as means of meditation (some mandalas, mentioned above, are done with sand implying the impermanence of even beautiful art and mindful meditation). Some Latin Americans use sandpaintings in certain Christian rituals, including the levantada de la cruz (lifting of the cross) a sandpainting ceremony completed by godparents of the recently deceased or as part of El Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) rituals in cemeteries or at home altars in Mexico.

3. Psalms at the Canyon

What would be a religious sightseeing tour without a bit of controversy? With headlines like the Los Angeles Times' "Religion and Geology Collide at the Grand Canyon" one tiny little plaque has raised quite a stink in the past. Donated in the 1960s by a Protestant religious order called the Evangelical Sisterhood of Mary, the Grand Canyon plaques were removed in 2003 only to be returned in 2004. They still adorn National Park Service locations along the canyon to this day. At issue for Christians is an acknowledgement of God as creator in the majesty of one of the deepest and widest canyons in the world. At issue for others is the separation of church and state.

Of course, the NPS does not only deal with plaques at the Grand Canyon. There is a chapel at Yosemite NP, a cross in the Mojave, a Buddhist stupa in Albuquerque, and a Russian Orthodox Chapel at Sitka. Indeed, several National Historic Sites are religious sites as well, including Martin Luther King Jr.'s Ebenezer Baptist Church. In fact, at the same location where one plaque is displayed -- the Watchtower at the Grand Canyon -- the verse was overshadowed (literally and figuratively) by strong Hopi religious symbology.

4. Hopi legends & symbols at the Watchtower

The Watchtower at Desert View is an architectural wonder built near the eastern gateway of the South Rim by Mary Colter -- 20th-century American architect and designer. The Watchtower design integrates Hopi building themes and religious symbols including a depiction of the Snake Legend -- the story of the Hopi's first navigation of the Grand Canyon.

There are religious symbols everywhere inside the Watchtower, illustrating harvest images, divine icons, and spiritual tokens. One notable example is that of Muyingwa, god of germination. The design elements are purposeful and powerful. Since the Watchtower is based on the design of a Hopi ceremonial kiva -- a room used for religious rituals often associated with kachina (spirit beings of the Pueblo peoples) belief systems -- and Hopi religion and art are intimately and intricately intertwined, the multitude of manifest religious representations is no surprise.

Fred Kabotie, who painted the murals inside the Watchtower, said that his paintings were faithful to Hopi renderings over the centuries and that they are still imbued with sacred power. A beautiful photographic representation and explanation of most of the paintings is available HERE.

5. A fox, a mission, & an upside down cross

One particular image of Kabotie's has struck, intrigued, and stumped me. Near the entrance/exit of the stylized kiva I noticed a circular painting that featured four primary symbols: a stylized fox hovering at the top, a hung feather (real), what looks like a mission façade, and an upside down cross. I am still in the midst of researching the meaning of this symbol, tracking down an expert in Hopi symbology or anyone who knows more about Kabotie's art, but what follows are my inclinations and musings on the meaning of the symbol. They can only be taken as speculative, nothing more. I will let you know if I'm anywhere near being correct in the future...

First, what do the symbols mean on their own? The fox could symbolize a clan of the Hopi, a particular kachina, or particularly a trickster spirit being. Feathers mean many things to various Native American nations. They can represent strength, honor, fidelity, trust, or the power of the Creator depending on their source, context, and usage. Not much can be said about the specific meaning of this particular feather as of yet. The mission is an interesting inclusion in the piece. Mission façade's have no specific meaning in Hopi art, but what is known is that the Hopi were highly resistant to Franciscan and general Catholic mission efforts in the American Southwest. Indeed, the Hopi combatted Catholic religion both openly and subtly. The upside down cross is the symbol that initially piqued my interest. The cross in Hopi symbology is representative of the earth's forces, but here could be related directly to the mission and the attempted evangelization of the Hopi people during, and after, Spanish settlement. Interestingly, any figure depicted upside down typically implied that figure's death.

Taking all of this into consideration it is my estimation that this painting is a subversive critique of Christian evangelism among the Hopi. Perhaps Kabotie merged these various symbols to simultaneously affirm the strength of Hopi religion in the face of hegemonic Christianizing forces and undermine the missionization of his people at the hands of foreign powers. Depicting a trickster deity and showing the "death" of the missions and their message (the upside down cross), Kabotie may have been portraying his, and his people's, well-known resistance against the Christian message. Again, I must restate my original caveat -- these conclusions are conjectural, at best.

Conclusion

Did you learn anything new with this spiritual sightseeing guide to the Grand Canyon and parts of Northern Arizona? I hope you did.

I also hope you won't miss an opportunity to do some religious sightseeing the next time you are traveling. Next week I will be posting spiritual sightings, and sites, from my walking tour of Nashville, TN and I encourage you to check out my reflections on potholes and castles in St. Augustine, FL. If you're interested in building your own spiritual sightseeing adventure, check out this intro HERE.

Biblical chocolate, Buddha bars, & sugar skull bottles: recent #FaithGoesPop sightings

February 26, 2015

Over at my blog Faith Goes Pop with Read the Spirit, I invited readers to show me their "faith pop" by using the hashtag #FaithGoesPop on social media (Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, etc.).

Over the last couple weeks, people have been sending in some fascinating examples of the interplay between faith in pop culture. Before I share with you some of the coolest "Faith Pop" that's been sent in, be sure to share your own sightings with the hash-tag #FaithGoesPop. Here's a quick sampling of recent glimpses into the intersection of religion and popular culture:

On Pinterest, Tina Johnson shared with me her son's mini-water bottle from Nestle sporting a skull on the back. At first, she was a bit freaked, but then she looked it up. She figured out that the skull was a calavera, or sugar skull, associated with El Dia de los Muertos -- "the Day of the Dead" -- and was part of a Halloween series put out by Nestle. "Calavera" is the Spanish word for skull, but calaveras in the context of the Day of the Dead bear extra significance. You see them all around Mexico -- in poetry and graffiti murals, on shirts and jewelry, in ancient Mexica (Aztec) carvings and modern sculpture on the city streets. They crop up particularly in Autumn as many Mexicans prep for the Day of the Dead celebrations around November 1. According to one celebrant I talked to, "Calaveras remind us to celebrate life, to appreciate that even death is sacred, is alive. 'La Muerte' is inevitable, it is a right of passage, it is a place and moment to be experienced now and in the future. The dead are never gone and we should never neglect them. The inevitable, our fate or whatever you call it, cannot be avoided, it must be embraced and danced with. It can even be sweet." Hence the sugar in the skull. Hence the

On Facebook, Sarah "Moxy"Moczygemba shared her sighting of the "Bible Bar." While you may've seen Ezekiel 4:9 bread or cereal, or even TestaMINTS (audible groan), have you ever dug into a "Bible Bar" and enjoyed the seven foods of Deuteronomy 8:8? Are you a sinner like me and have no idea what foods are mentioned in Deuteronomy 8:8? Don't even know where Deuteronomy is? Have no fear, I'm here to help. In leading his people to the "promised land" out of slavery in Egypt and wandering in the desert God instructs the people through Moses to keep his commandments. His promise is that he will take them to, "a land of wheat and barley, of vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey." (Deut. 8:8) Wowzers! You mean you've got wheat, barley, wine, figs, pomegranate, olives, and honey in that "Bible Bar" of yours? Stop being such a diva, drop the Snickers, and give me a bit of scrumptious Promised Land goodness. Thanks for sharing the sighting Moxy!

Also on Facebook, Daniel “The Truth” DeHoyos took a picture of his notes for a new Bible study series he is doing with his youth group called, "God and Cinema." He pulled out some interesting "meta-themes" to discuss. What would you add?

Speaking of movies, Brian Clark responded to my request about sharing your favorite angel and demon sightings in movies, books, or other pop culture. He mentioned Frank Peretti's "awesome written description" in This Present Darkness in which, "Ashton is just a typical small town. But when a skeptical reporter and a pastor begin to compare notes, they suddenly find themselves fighting a hideous plot to subjugate the townspeople -- and eventually the entire human race....a fascinating glimpse into the unseen world of spiritual warfare where angels of good and evil battle." Great spotting Brian!

Via Twitter, Jonathan Brandenburg sent me notice of the "fastest selling Playmobil toy of all time" -- Martin Luther. Wait....wha?! Yep, you heard that right. The old 16th-century rebel monk and Protestant reformer not only posted 95 theses, but posted huge first-quarter sales figures for Playmobil who, according to Newsweek, is just as shocked as everyone else. The toy looks pretty sweet, you know if you're a total Reformation nerd...or Lutheran. Newsweek describes it, "The plastic toy, complete with a quill, German-language bible and cheery grin, was produced for the German and Nuremberg tourist boards and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Bavaria, as Germany gears up to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation in 2017." That 500th anniversary is a pretty big deal and might be a magisterial reason for Lutheran nerd-dom to rise up to purchase toys, go on Luther tours, and sport "Luther is my homeboy" hats like nobody's business. Forget Pope Francis it's time for the "Luther effect," let's purchase and protest like it was 1517.

Finally, Sandy Richards sent me a note about sighting the "Buddha Lounge" -- a swanky little dive bar on San Francisco's Chinatown's main thoroughfare -- in the latest edition of Sunset magazine. This isn't the only Buddha bar sighting as of late. Recently, I was in Ft. Lauderdale Florida enjoying some "Maple Bacon Coffee Porter" (yes, heavenly) at the Funky Buddha Brewery. It seems the sage of samsara is now the patron saint of suds for many.

As you can readily see #FaithGoesPop can be discovered anywhere and everywhere. From coffee shops to Chinatowns, from grocery stores to Toys 'R' Us there's "faith pop" waiting to be discovered. So go forth, find it, and send it to me via the #FaithGoesPop hash-tag.

Until next time, peace out faith goes pop-ers, I'm going to go have a Buddha beer...or two.

A Pentecostal in Hijab?

February 19, 2015

*This is a guest blog from Megan Geiger. Megan is a graduate student in the University of Florida's religion department. She focuses on Pentecostalism, changes in social discourses among Pentecostals, immigration and Pentecostalism, Latin American holiness movements, American religious history, and the role of women in Christian fundamentalism. She is an active member of the United Pentecostal Church, International and recently took part in Islam on Campus UF's "wear hijab for a day" program. This is her story from the day:

My first thought was, “This is definitely harder than doing my hair.” The scarf was finally secured against my head thanks to the multiple straight pins keeping it in place (and the corresponding pinpricks in my fingers and scalp). After watching several YouTube tutorials that claimed to demonstrate “Easy Hijab Styles for Beginners,” I had managed to fashion the bright pink scarf into a series of somewhat-graceful folds across the crown of my head and under my neck. In my opinion, it looked pretty convincing, although I was sure it would take a practiced Hijabi only seconds to realize that I was completely unused to the veil.

In fact, covering my hair is almost a redundancy; being Pentecostal I’ve left my hair uncut for my entire life so that it could serve as a covering for me, as recommended by scripture in 1 Corinthians 11. On this particular day, however, I had chosen to adopt a style of covering that was not my own.

Now, usually a fundamentalist Christian choosing to wear the head covering of a Muslim woman would probably be considered a gross act of cultural insensitivity, but don’t worry; I was invited. A Muslim students’ group on my university campus was hosting Hijab Day, during which non-hijabis were asked to wear the veil during the day and meet to discuss their experiences afterwards. Given my interest in religion and modesty, it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.

That said, I felt some trepidation as I adjusted my scarf one final time and left my house that morning. The religious landscape that I inhabit on a daily basis has been notoriously hostile to Muslims—members of my own church community have expressed horror at my involvement in Muslim activities on campus, and Gainesville itself (home of the 2012 Qur’an burning scandal) is no stranger to militant Islamophobia. Hijab day seemed to me to be a unique opportunity to point out that Muslims and Pentecostals have a lot in common when it comes to modesty and covering; however, I also expected a lot of negative responses from my fellow Christians. I snapped a picture for Instagram, added ‘#modesty’ to it, and braced myself. I was prepared to be criticized for my decision. I wasn’t prepared for the critiques I would bring upon myself.

As I went through my day on a busy college campus, the recurring question that came to me was “Does that person think I’m Muslim?” The question both had to do with my respectful desire to wear hijab “the right way,” and my hesitation at abandoning my own religious identity for a day. I questioned whether in putting on the hijab I was electing to set aside my own agenda as an evangelical Christian, and what that meant in terms of my mission to save souls…what if veiling myself cost me an opportunity to share the gospel? What if I was damaging my authority as a Christian by temporarily presenting myself as a Muslim? This tension came to light during one surreal moment in my day in which I actually taught a Bible study to another UF student, all while wearing an overtly Muslim symbol of modesty. I explained why I was doing it and the study went on without a hitch, but as I listened to myself discuss Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross as eternal payment for our sins, I wondered if my headgear was somehow marring the message. Or was it the other way around?

I was not the only one to have these thoughts. One Pentecostal Instagram user went as far as to say that to don the veil, even for a day, even with the best intentions at heart, was to give place to the demonic influences of Islam—in terms of spiritual warfare, this was the equivalent of flying a white flag over the Pentagon. My insecurities deepened.

To my surprise, that was the only negative comment about my participation in Hijab Day that I received. Instead, I was flooded with a wave of affirmation and support from other Pentecostal women, who praised the elegance of hijab, the value of interreligious understanding, and the practice of modesty in any form. A couple of my Pentecostal friends went so far as to join me in covering—the veiled selfie one friend sent me was accompanied by the fervent declaration “Modesty is beautiful!” It was clear that I had sold my own people short—these women leapt at the opportunity to bridge the gap between our two religious cultures. There were plenty of “likes” from Pentecostal men as well, even from several ministers. I was shocked. And I was a bit ashamed that I was shocked.

As I sat in the Hijab Day discussion and listened to a panel of young Muslim women talk about their unique reasons for veiling and their individual journeys of faith, I thought deeply about my own. Being Pentecostal has a lot to do with living in the borders of things—we’re a people of first century doctrine and twenty-first century technologies, old-fashioned dress standards and newfangled beauty standards, living “in the world but not of the world.” That also means we live in the tensions between culture and politics, tolerance and literal interpretations of scripture, the soon-coming apocalypse and the need to coexist with our neighbors in the coming week. For some the hijab is a reminder that there are people whose faith contradicts our own. For some it’s a place of connection, a hole in the fence between Islam and Christianity where ideas can be exchanged.

I won’t have the opportunity to wear hijab every day (for which my scalp is grateful). Still, my one day with the veil showed me that I am not the only member of my faith who is ready, even anxious, to talk about the things we have in common with Muslims. There is space for exchange. In our covering, we may find a haven for connection.

Let’s start talking.

Christians across the world remember Ash Wednesday on Feb. 18, 2015. What other religious face markings exist? And why are they so prominent? — Christians across the world remember Ash Wednesday on Feb. 18, 2015. What other religious face markings exist? And why are they so prominent?

Religion in your face: Ash Wednesday & religious face markings

February 17, 2015

"Dude, you've...um...I think you have dirt on your face."

"No sir, it's not dirt. It's a marker of allegiance to a particular strand of religiosity, in this instance focused on a liturgical posture of penance, which, in turn, may have little bearing on my day-to-day lived religious identity and practice....but yeah, otherwise, it's dirt on my face."

Or, perhaps, ash would be more accurate. Tomorrow (February 18, 2015) is Ash Wednesday. Millions of Christians across the world -- Catholic, Lutheran, Anglicans, others -- will commemorate the commencement of Lent -- a 40-day penitential season of fasting and preparation preceding Easter, the celebration of Jesus' resurrection from the dead -- with the "imposition" or "infliction" of ashes on their foreheads.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood on Twitter

Christians are not alone in marking their faces with religious symbols. There are traditions in India, New Zealand, sub-Saharan Africa and elsewhere that involve religious symbology being born on foreheads, cheeks, and mouth. While this may seem an extreme sign of devotion, more often than not, these religious facial markings tell us relatively little about the lived religion of the devotee marking their visible features with spiritual symbols.

Ash Wednesday

The symbol of ashes on the forehead are meant to serve as a reminder of the contrite believers' physical return to dust (accompanied by a ritualistic repetition of "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" or "from dust you came, from dust you shall return") and their spiritual condition as sinners in need of mourning over their sin, confession, and repentance.

While traditionally practiced among Roman Catholics, Anglicans, Episcopalians, and Lutherans, there are a growing number of evangelical and other mainline Protestant churches taking up the practice. And not only are Christians getting their ash in church, they're getting dusted in the streets. In her book City of God, recovering journalist and Episcopalian lay liturgist Sara Miles shared her Lenten adventure of perambulating San Francisco's mission district in black cassock on Ash Wednesday marking those she meets with the ashes of Lent. There, in the cracked sidewalks and fractured realities of the city she calls home, Miles finds bodies marked not only with poverty and pain, but "the realities of death."

Revealing in an interview with Publisher's Weekly the premise that "God has left the [church] building," Miles believes she does not take faith to the streets, but finds it there. "I am in this privileged position to get to see what people's experience of faith and God is, and for each person it is slightly different." In her book she aims to voice this urban canon, this discovery of people who are "hungry for something that's real."

Of marking foreheads with ashes, Miles says the yearning for belief that is solid and can be touched is part of the draw of that ritual. "It's stunning how many people want to be told they are dust and that they will die," she says. "The chronic lie of our culture is that people don't die. But people want to know the truth."

For over twelve hundred years on the dies cinerum (Day of Ashes) faithful followers have approached the altar to receive ashes on their foreheads. These ashes are often made from the burnt palm fronds that were blessed on the Palm Sunday of the previous year. The ashes are sprinkled with water, usually fragranced with incense and blessed. The ceremonial use of ashes for repentance and penance can be traced even further back and is practiced throughout the world.

What this seemingly utmost devotional act does not reveal is how quickly many practitioners may wash their foreheads or remove their ashes once they leave the sanctuary. In the case of the individuals on the streets of San Francisco, and elsewhere, that get their ashes to-go, it tells us nothing of their personal faithfulness through the rest of Lent or as day-to-day Christians for that matter.

South Indian Tripundra

The same can be said for the mark of a saiva in South India known as the "tripundra" (also "tilak").

Consisting of three horizontal lines of vibhuti (holy ash) on the forehead often with a dot (bindu) acting as "a third eye," the tripundra may evoke a sense of the Ash Wednesday practice. However, there are different motivations in this Hindu tradition. The three lines symbolize the the real self's (atman's) three bonds: anava, karma, and maya.

Anava is the sense of "I" or "mine" within each of us and is, according to the Shaiva tradition under consideration by Dr. Elaine Fisher of the University of Wisconsin-Madison, the impetus for the individual atman's misplaced notion of separate being apart from the god Shiva. It is the final bond to be broken before moksha, or self-realization and release. Karma literally means "action, work or deed." In both Buddhist and Hindu traditions, karma is the universal law of cause and effect -- the effect (or fruits) of a person's actions not only have ramifications in this life, but also in the next. Over the centuries, the various schools of Hinduism have conceived of many variations on the karmic theme, some making karma appear quite deterministic, others making room for free will and individual agency. Maya is power and wisdom. The debate rages over whether this ability is real or illusory. In some Vedic texts, maya is a "magical show, an illusion," but in Shaivism maya is potent and truly existent and deterministic. It is real insofar as it endows the individual with the cosmos, tangible elements of the world, and a body to be realized, and to practice, in. However, the vibhuti, composed of burnt cow dung, or in some Shaiva traditions the funerary ashes of cremated corpses, is an omnipresent reminder of the temporary nature of physical existence and the urgency to strive for self-realization and spiritual attainment (moksha).

As Fischer explained the bearing of tripundra actively mark's one in South India as part of a certain body/religious public and community, but it tells us little else about other aspects of their religious identity.

Māori Ta Moko

This dynamic is even more evident in the modern practice of ta moko among Māori, and others, in Aotearoa (New Zealand).

Uetonga tattooing his son-in-law Mataora in the under world.

The Māori traditionally chiseled marks on their faces, called ta moko. Each individual’s ta moko is unique and sacred to them. As mentioned, the traditional way of applying ta moko to the face was to dip a narrow blade in black pigment and then tap the blade with a mallet to chisel deep incisions into the skin. This process not only left a tattoo of the designs, but permanent grooves in the skin. Today, most ta moko are tattooed according to international standards, but still informed by Māori lore.

The traditional form of ta moko was practiced by tohunga, who were both ritual experts and skilled artisans. A woman’s moko, which covered only the chin and lips, would take one or two days to complete. A man’s moko, which covered the whole face, was done in stages over several years due to the immense pain, swelling, and blood often involved in the process. Because of this, while the scars were healing, the person being tattooed was in a state of tapu (taboo, sacred or set apart). They could not look in a mirror, touch their own food, engage in sexual activity, or even wash the tattooed skin.

It is mythically believed that the Māori received the practice of ta moko from the underworld -- Rarohenga -- when the ancestor Mataora went in search of his wife Niwareka there. Encountering a different people than what he was used to in "the upper world," Mataora came across a man being tattooed and bleeding profusely. He thought something must be wrong. Uetonga, the chief applying the tattoo, informed Mataora that his method of tattooing was permanent, while the upper world's was "merely a marking" (whakairo tuhi or hopara makaurangiI) that could be wiped away. The tattoos were often made of red, blue, and white ochre and were temporary. Uetonga then smeared Mataora's tuhi and instructed him in the ways of ta moko, puncturing his skin and marking the lines in his face with a chisel. When Mataora returned to the upper world, he adopted ta moko and made it known among the Maori and their neighbors. As the myth says, "prior to the visit of Mataora to Rarohenga, people painted pictures on their faces" and now they practice "real tattooing by puncture."

Since the 1970s and 80s, some Māori have begun wearing ta moko again as a marker, and assertion of their cultural identity as part of the wider Māori cultural revival (Ngā tuakiri hōu). Even a few Māori tattoo artists are reviving traditional methods of applying ta moko to the face, thighs, and arms. Formerly a sign of status and prestige, now Māori people who wear ta moko assert their identity in a world of rapid change and cultural incursion.

Sub-Saharan African Tribal Marks

A Maasai woman with facial markings on her cheeks.

Similarly in many locales throughout sub-Saharan Africa various tribes include face markings as part of their ethnic identification. However, some markings in African tribes have more spiritual intimations. In some Yoruba settings children believed to be a "reincarnated child" (abiku), will be given marks on their face and body. It is believed that to take away the potentially destructive spiritual powers of the child, he/she has to be identified by the marks when he/she is born. Otherwise, it is believed, the child may die at an early age. It can also be used to wade away evil spirits ravaging around a certain group of people or family. In this case, the marks are not only on the face but other parts of the body as well. In Ghana among most tribes a "reincarnated child," referred to as "Kosanma" will bear "Donko" marks on the face.

Like the Yoruba, most tribes in sub-Saharan Africa give marks to their people for spiritual protection. Most often, it is religious ritual experts (shamans, herbalists, etc.) who apply the marks by cutting the body and inserting powerful herbs with spiritual potency to help heal the wound. Cuts will not only be made on the face, but on hips, wrists, stomachs, and shoulders.

Regardless of the source or tradition, most who do not practice such religious facial markings may react with surprise or even horror when they see someone with their religious identity splashed, or scarred, across their faces. Extreme. Outlandish. Drastic.

In one sense, inscribing, or marking, one's religion on one's face is powerful and evocative. Not only does it identity the believer with a particular religious or cultural community, it also locates that believer within the drama. By marking one's body, either permanently or temporarily, the adherent weaves themselves into the dogmatic and ritualistic narrative of their religion. With permanent markings, this placement is deeper both physically -- scars and chiseled skin -- and spiritually.

Yet, as has been hinted at throughout this post, while these markings may disclose a particular religious self-identification or membership in a certain religious community or body politic, they tell us very little about how these individuals construct their daily religious life or if they do so at all. In a globalized world, cultural identity is a precious commodity. Thus, facial markings are a way to fetishize the body, to inscribe it with communal meaning, profound purpose, and public sacrality in a world perceived as increasingly homogenous, superficial, individualized, secular, and privatized.

More often than not, these markings are temporary. When they are not, they are markers of cultural identity more than religious ritual. Either way, they force the issue of religiosity in the 21st-century and continuously drive us to ask why it is that so many, whether Christian or Māori, Yoruba or Hindu, choose to not only bear their religion on their face, but put it in ours as they meet us in the public square. By proudly bearing their markings for a day, a season, or their entire lives, these devotees and religious faithful are a constant reminder that religion has not gone by the wayside in a globalized world, but is ever more present, potent, and potentially "in our face."

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood on Twitter

Has video killed the religion star? An interview with Dr. Stewart Hoover on religion & media

February 12, 2015

It doesn't take a PhD to see that religion and the media often intersect, intermesh, and play off one another. Whether it's a commercial about cell phone charging starring God as the protagonist (read "#SuperBowl religion") or how al-Dawla al-Islamiyya (ISIS) uses social media to advance its cause through digital propaganda, religion & digital media are constantly in conversation as forces in the globalized world.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood

While it may not take a PhD to recognize this interchange of religion & media, it may take one to navigate its ins and outs and properly apperceive its many nodes and nuances. Last month (January) I had the honor of meeting Dr. Stewart Hoover of the University of Colorado Boulder at the University of Florida's "Religion & Culture in a Digital Age" conference.

Dr. Hoover is Professor of Media Studies and adjoint of Religious Studies at UCB. He is the founder/director of the Center for Media, Religion, and Culture and his research interests focuses on the media audience and reception studies. He utilizes approaches founded in the fields of cultural studies, anthropology, and qualitative sociology. He is well-known for his work theorizing and explaining media and religion, particularly the phenomenon of televangelism and also, more recently, religion journalism.

What follows is my interview with Dr. Hoover talking about his current interests, getting a broad survey of the field, and also some discussion of what opportunities this area of study might offer both the serious academic looking for a topic to dive into (ah hem, grad students) and the arm-chair religious student attempting to apperceive the dual forces of religion and media in the 21st-century.

What got you interested in studying the intersection of, and interplay between, religion and media?

I’ve always been interested in media and in culture. I grew up in a small town with a diverse ethnic and religious culture, and was I think conscious from a young age of how cultures define people and vice versa. Since it was a small, rural, community, I also became interested in how metropolitan cultures condition peripheral ones and how those at the peripheries negotiate their relations with the wider world. And, religion was an important element of these processes, and has only grown in prominence in the years since thee 1979 revolution in Iran, the rise of Evangelical politics in the US, the growth of global Pentecostalism, and then of course 9/11.

And, of course, at the time I was starting out, there were few of us doing this, so it was a way of having a voice and a project.

What are you interested in at the moment or working on right now?

Dr. Stewart Hoover is Professor of Media Studies and adjoint Religious Studies professor at University of Colorado Boulder.

We have a research project underway with colleagues abroad which is a comparative analysis of media ambivalence in daily life. A lot of ambivalence is religiously-based, but we find fascinating layers and embrications in the ways media cultures work into the lives of our informants.

I’m also developing work in the media and religious authority, and in connection with that, on the history of Establishmeent or Ecumenical Protestantism in relation to media and media culture.

How relevant is this discussion and why do people, in academia and at the popular level, need to be thinking about it?

It is very relevant. Academic and other discourse lags way behind in understanding the extent to which contemporary culture is inflected with religion, with near-religion, with anti-religion, and with spiritualities of various valences and the extent to which you cannot understand this without attending to media cultures. So, across a range of fields, we have an incomplete scholarly project as a result of this neglect.

You wrote, “It has been argued that the media are today the most credible sources of social and cultural information, setting the agenda and the context for much of what we think and know about reality. Religion, which addresses itself to such questions, must be expressed and experienced differently as a result” and intimated that religion and media compete for the central constructive roles in the formation of social solidarity. Explain this:

It is simply that the media must be taken for granted. They are ubiquitous and definitive. They are where we spend our time, they are what we attend to, they are what we talk about with each other, they are thee common language and common cultures today. To exist today, institutions and cultures and communities must increasingly exist in thee media. Media languages set the agenda of what we talk about, the terms of those conversations, and they traffic in, and influence the broad public consensus where such a thing exists. Religions, to the extent they are public (and they are increasingly so) must submit themselves to the demands of the mediated cultural marketplace.

Religion and media can collide, but they can also combine and crossover each other at times. Talk a bit about the sometimes positive, and negative, senses of the interaction between religion and media.

Dr. Hoover's book Religion in the Media Age is an excellent expansion of the topics covered in this blog. Find it HERE. — Dr. Hoover's book *Religion in the Media Age* is an excellent expansion of the topics covered in this blog. Find it HERE.

I think that religion and media do, in fact, enhance one another. The most fundamental way this is true is that the media sphere today is a primary sphere for the generation of religious symbols, discourses, communities, affinities, etc. this is even so for the established and historic confessional faaiths, but is more so of course for emergent traditions, discourses, communities, and subgroups. Media culture is producing or generating religion today, more than ever before, and that is not so much a collision or even an interaction between “media” and “religion” as it is an entirely new space of generation. This is most obvious in digital media, where my colleagues and I have been theorizing about emergent “third spaces of digital religion.”

You mentioned that it is important to situate the study of religion and media in its historical context. How do we avoid the allure of the “newness” of such a subject?

Through intellectual rigor and discipline. Good histories demonstrate the utility of not being caught up in the present. We need to attend to and listen to those.

Most people would have a familiarity with Macluhan’s “the medium is the message.” You take a more meaning-based approach. Why this is preferred over a medium approach?

Among the several problems (for me) with “medium theory” are two primary ones. First, as it is applied, it is over-general. Its claims are not specific enough and thee kinds of “effects” or implications it proposes are hard to specify and attribute to media, mediation, etc. A second problem is one of scale, medium theories tend to look on too grand a level, and fail to helpfully describe what is happening in spheres of actual, historically-embedded practice. They also often stumble into a kind of class-based “taste” arguments, where the kinds of meanings and functions attributed are judged in nearly moral terms. I’ve always found it much more enlightening to do field research on what people actually do with media, and build theory “up” or “out” from there. That allows us to see the many ways that media and mediation are integrated and layered into the fabric of lived lives, and to see that media “affects” of the kinds suggested by medium theorists are often too grand.

What is the relevance of the “globalization” or “transnationalism” discussion in the realm of religion and media studies?

This would be a treatise if I actually answered it. I’ll just say that it is more obvious all the time that we must look at things in a global context. Not only do media enable religious and cultural transnationalisms of a variety of kinds. A global view provides powerful insights into the meanings and functions of mediated religion in many local contexts.

What religion, in your opinion, is the most mediated? If you don’t feel you can answer this, why not?

Wow. Lots of pretenders. My favorite to look at now, because it is so complex, is neo-Pentecostalism. But is it the “most” I don’t know…

What BIG question or area of study would you recommend a young scholar or interested individual go out and tackle in this field?

History, history, history……that is, take on historiography and historicism in relation to thee range of phenomena that seem to present themselves ever and always in media and religion.

That, and authority, and the ways that structures of authority condition or determine or afford our understandings of these important questions

Thank you Dr. Hoover for your time and consideration and being part of the conversation here at www.kenchitwood.com!

Will Cuba soon get its first mosque? Muslims in Havana hope so

February 5, 2015

Cuba is in the news these days as relations between the U.S. and Cuba are improving and economic and political bulwarks are beginning to crumble. President Obama said his aim was to "end an outdated approach that, for decades, has failed to advance [U.S. and Cuban] interests, and instead we will begin to normalize relations between our two countries."

Religion has featured in the story as it has continued to develop. Amidst stories about the Pope's role, the Jewish diaspora, and Catholic resurgence what of Cuba's small, but faithful, Muslim population?

As Religion News Service reported, "A personal appeal by Pope Francis played a key role in finalizing a deal to open relations between the United States and Cuba for the first time in 53 years. The pope wrote a personal letter to President Obama this fall — something he’d never done before — and a separate letter to Cuban President Raul Castro....That resulted in a major U.S. policy shift toward Cuba, including a prisoner swap between the two countries that freed American Alan Gross on Wednesday (Dec. 17)."

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood

In the midst of the shift in relations and the potential loosening of democratic and economic policies within Cuba, there has been talk of religious liberties as well. CNN reported that Cuba's first Catholic church to be built since 1959 is set to break ground soon in the "the isolated town of Sandino."

From CNN:

“The Sandino church has been 56 years in the making, ever since Fidel Castro took power and Cuba became an officially atheist state.

Only with the visit in 1998 of Pope John Paul II to the island did relations between the Cuban government and Catholic Church begin to thaw. Christmas again became a national holiday, and Cubans faced less official discrimination for practicing their faiths.”

Would this perhaps preclude the construction of Cuba's first mosque?

For now, Muslims in Havana gather in Imam Yahya's home to pray toward Mecca.

For some Muslims in Havana, there is "the Arab House." Owned by a wealthy Arab immigrant who has lived in Cuba since the 1940s it was built based on Andalusian architectural designs. It includes an Arabic museum, an Arabic restaurant, and the place is used by Muslim diplomats for jummah (Friday) prayers, but is off-limits to Muslim converts in Cuba. Outside of the Arab House, private homes are the sole places Muslims can gather for prayer in Cuba.

Over the years, various investors from Qatar to Libya and private organizations such as the Muslim World League, have attempted to supply funding to the Cuban government with the attendant promise to build a public mosque for Muslims to gather at and pray toward Mecca in. However, no attempt has been successful.

The latest effort has come from Turkey's Religious Affairs Foundation (TDV). Working with local Cuban Muslim community leader Pedro Lazo Torres (a.k.a. Imam Yahya) and said to have backing from President Recept Tayyip Erdogan, this plan too has failed.

For years now Imam Yahya has led prayer (salat) from his home in Havana. He hoped that with Turkish backing, and promises to significantly fund the project, the mosque might come to serve the estimated 1,500-4,000 Muslims in Cuba.

Did Columbus discover a mosque off the coast of Cuba? Experts say no. Erdogan insists.

To give mytho-historical weight to the project, President Erdogan told the 1st Latin American Muslim Religious Leaders summit (in Turkey) that "America was discovered prior to 1492." Indeed, Erdogan claimed that Muslim sailors reached the Americas in 1178. He then made his most audacious, and talked-about, claim -- that Columbus included the sighting of a mosque off the coast of Cuba in his memoirs. He said, "we speak about this with my Cuban brothers. And a mosque will suit that peak very nicely."

While historians, anthropologists, and scientists overwhelmingly challenged, or even refuted, Erdogan's claim, the Turkish President doubled down and insisted that, "an objective writing of history will show the contribution of the East, the Middle East and Islam to the science and arts."

"As the president of my country, I cannot accept that our civilization is inferior to other civilizations," Erdogan said. Certainly, his attempt to build a mosque in Cuba and to rally Latin American Muslim leaders around him is an attempt to buttress his brand of Islamist politics, what some, such as Asef Bayat, are calling "post-Islamist." By supporting Latin American Islam and offering funds to build mosques in places such as Cuba, Erdogan might be attempting to present Islam as a global brand made up of multiple cultures, languages, and histories.

Still, he has a long way to go. Especially in Cuba.

Turkish President Erdogan is attempting to exert more influence over Latin American Islam with efforts in Cuba and across the hemisphere.

For his part, Imam Yahya was disappointed at the news that Cuba rejected the plans for his country's first mosque. He expressed dismay at the decision, noting that Russia was granted permission to build an Orthodox church in the country and now Catholic churches are again being constructed, but Muslims in Cuba still have no official place of worship.

Plainly, it is not easy to be Muslim in Cuba. With antagonizers calling Muslims such as Torres a "terrorist," being teased for wearing the thobe (an ankle length garment, robe) in the Caribbean heat, or trying to avoid pork in a nation in love with "the other white meat" things are made only more difficult without an official masjid to gather in.

And yet, as relations thaw between the U.S. and Cuba and Catholics stake out their claim in the island nation, Torres and others are hopeful that it means propitious things for Cuba's Muslims. For now, they continue to gather ismillah ("in the name of Allah") and along with their obligatory prayers toward Mecca offer up ua (supplications) that Islam might grow in Cuba -- mosque or no mosque.

*UPDATE: The first publicly mosque is now open in Havana. Sponsored by Saudi dollars with input from several other Muslim majority nations (including Turkey's Diyanet) it is located at Calle Oficío, No. 18 on the corners of Obrapía & Obispo. It was opened in 2016.

Nintendo's Power Glove & the Hand of God: Religion & Culture in the Digital Age

February 4, 2015

Over the last decade the study of religion has expanded its multidisciplinary reach by looking to see the ways in which religion and culture intersect with media and digital technology. Questions range from "How is religion represented in the media?" to "How are religious organizations using media and technology to promote their faiths" to more ambitious questions about the role media plays in shaping, and perhaps deputizing the role of, religion.

As Dr. Stewart Hoover wrote in Religion in the Media Age, “It has been argued that the media are today the most credible sources of social and cultural information, setting the agenda and the context for much of what we think and know about reality. Religion, which addresses itself to such questions, must be expressed and experienced differently as a result.” So too must the study of religion. Increasingly, individual and communal religious actors are engaging with media religiously or encountering religion through various forms of digital media.

The University of Florida's religion department is interdisciplinary in nature. In approaching religion, the program  encourages students to draw on work in the humanities, social sciences, and natural sciences. — The University of Florida's religion department is interdisciplinary in nature. In approaching religion, the program encourages students to draw on work in the humanities, social sciences, and natural sciences.

However, we would be naïve to posit that it is only the forces of media that impact religion and not vice-versa. As the twenty-first century comes of age, religion continues to prove a potent local, regional, and global force that is shaping the way we interact with, view, and create media. Indeed, both media and religion compete for the central constructive roles in the formation of social solidarity and thus, studies merging the two streams of cultural production are necessary and beneficial to understand religion, and/or media, in the digital age. Hence, the purpose and pertinence of the Graduate Student Conference "Religion and Culture in the Digital Age" held January 24, 2015 at the University of Florida.

The conference sought to bring together graduate students from diverse academic backgrounds and scholars who conduct research in the digital humanities. The daylong event included three panels and a roundtable with Dr. David Morgan (Duke University), Dr. Stewart Hoover (University of Colorado at Boulder), Dr. Dragan Kujundzic (University of Florida - Jewish Studies), and Dr. Sid Dobrin (University of Florida - English).

The papers presented at the conference, and the topics covered, were diverse and wide-ranging. What follows is a short overview of each panel and the roundtable talk, covering highlights and the most pressing issues and/or questions that emerged from each.

Panel 1: The Creation of Sacrality and the Role of the Audience (Commentator: Dr. Terje Østebø)

At the fear of being partial to my own paper, I will start with the other two panelists. Cristina Ruiz-Poveda Vera (University of Florida) presented about the role of the audience in transcendental spiritual films, discussing films like Werner Herzog's "Encounters at the End of the World" (2007) and Don Hertzfeldt's "The Meaning of Life" (2005). Entitled, "Film as Temple" the presentation artfully explored the ways in which spiritual movies can often move the viewer beyond themselves much like sacred texts and ritual.

Alfredo Garcia (Princeton University) presented the results of a sociological study entitled, "Tolerance in an Age of Social Media: An Experimental Design Examining Muslims and Mosques in the United States," in which he and a co-author found that having a Muslim friend, or even interacting with Muslims on social media, did not significantly alter attitudes about the building of mosques in the U.S.

Trying to let the bow-tie do the talking for me.

Honored to share alongside these two scholars, my paper presented the findings of my two-month long ethnographic experiment as a participant-observer on the "Latino Muslim Facebook Group." Latina/o Muslims in the United States are quadruple minorities (Latina/o and Muslim in the U.S., Latina/o in the Muslim community, Muslim in the Latina/o community). As such, Latina/o Muslims seek to create their own identity and supportive community. While national para-mosque organizations and local entities create some sense of shared identity, new media, specifically social media, play an increasingly important role in constructing a cohesive Latina/o Muslim community and creating causeways for greater inclusion in the global umma. By liking one another’s posts (the most common form of interaction on the page), Latina/o Muslims are doing more than having fun on social media. They are intimately, and actively, engaged with creating a hybrid community, crafting a worldview on the borderlands between the digital and real, between being Muslim and Latina/o, and shaping a Latina/o Muslim identity that will be applied online and in the “real” world.

The discussion following this panel revolved around questions of methodology in the digital humanities and whether or not there is such a thing as an "ethnography" of a digital sociality.

Panel 2: Digitized Hinduism (Commentator: Dr. Phillip Green)

Yael Lazar presents on "digital darshan" as Bhakti Mamtora, Nick Collins, and Dr. Phillip Green look on.

Following this discussion and some refreshments provided by Harvest Thyme Café, Yael Lazar (Duke University) presented her paper examining the use of the internet and its shaping of Hindus, and Hinduism, through the practice of "digital darshan." Darshan, (Sanskrit: "auspicious viewing") is the beholding of a deity, guru, or sacred object (esp. in image form). The devotion is perceived as reciprocal in some traditions and the idea is that the viewer will receive a divine blessing. Some Hindus are taking to the internet to perform darshan and receive their blessings digitally, though the potency of such a practice is contested.

Bhakti Mamtora (University of Florida) examined the websites, social media sites, and mobile apps of Bochasanwasi Shri Akshar Purushottam Swaminarayan Sanstha, known as BAPS, a major Swaminarayan organization. She argued that through sleek designs and highly visual and interactive elements, which introduced immediate and personal experiences (e.g. "Daily Satsang"), BAPS is able to help craft technologies that aid individuals in their spiritual endeavors and contribute to the formation of a global tradition. Mamtora emphasized how this area of Hindu culture and practice, in addition to Lazar's study, needs more focused research and necessitates a focus on practice to understand the multiple levels of meaning that individuals ascribe to online practices as active social agents in community construction in a digital landscape.

She argued that through sleek designs and highly visual and interactive element, which introduced immediate and personal experiences (e.g. “Daily Satsang”), BAPS is able to craft technologies that aid individuals in their spiritual endeavors and contribute to the formation of a global tradition.

Nick Collins (University of Florida) rounded out the panel by talking about the "digital super nature" available to Buddhist practitioners experiencing the anomic experience of a fractal mind and self. He called the various media online and the networks of connections available to practitioners as an "invisible school" offering an opportunity to enter into the Vedic mind. He wrote, "In the contemporary digitally mediated cultural landscape, the traditional lineage lines, forms, and structures of cultural systems, including religious traditions, have become 'cut loose' from their (prior) cultural bodies and aggregately integrated into a single, all inclusive spatial-temporal environment, a discarnate, nonlocal, and ever-present now represented by the interconnected digital media landscape."

He closed by emphasizing the importance for the scholar of such a tradition to "enter into experiential contact with such practices" and "Be a Weirdo" in both society and academia.

Panel 3: The Mediazation of Myth and Learning (Commentator: Dr. Robert Kawashima)

The final panel of the day focused on Christian traditions. Chris Fouche (University of Florida) talked about the potential promises and pitfalls for seminaries and other theological institutions offering distance education while at the same time seeking to form deep Christian community. Using Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Finkenwalde seminary project as a litmus test of sorts, Fouche recommended hybrid models for online/offline theological education and underlined just how difficult online education is in the creation of authentic community.

Michael Knippa brings McLuhan into the digital age, arguing the Bible might be seen differently now since "the medium is the message."

Michael Knippa (Concordia Seminary, St. Louis) discussed the transformation of interpretation and meaning of biblical texts due to their various media: scrolls, codices, amulets, collections, book form, and digital representations. Pulling on the theory of Marshall McLuhan ("the medium is the message") he argued that in the shift from print to digital we can't pretend that the digitization of the Bible will not have an impact on its reception and its message. He offered that digitized Bibles will transform our methods & theories of interpretation, perhaps more mythologically. Only time will tell.

From the up the road in religious studies land, Carson Bay (Florida State University) examined various Christian reactions to the film Noah released last summer (2014). He discussed the film's platform and whether or not it was perceived as legitimizing or delegitimizing certain narratives in the Bible. Regardless of various negative lines on the reception of Noah among Christians, evangelicals used the movie as culturally-relevant tool for proselytization, with attendant theological corrections (e.g. with 'the Watchers' and Noah's abortive mania).

The discussion following this panel was the most lively of the day as the discussion centered around McLuhan's theoretical system and whether or not it was viable. As Dr. Hoover mentioned, these young scholars were entering into a very long, and historical, discussion about media and religion. That was where he, and others, would begin during the roundtable discussion that rounded off the day.

Roundtable Discussion (Moderator: Dr. Manuel Vásquez)

Featuring four scholars each with their own unique, and significant, contributions of the field of religion and digital humanities, the roundtable discussion was the highlight of the conference.

David Morgan's major interests are the history of religious visual and print culture and American religious and cultural history. He opened by reminding students that this area of study "is not always about being sexy, it's about contextualizing the new to give it historical depth." He further offered that it is healthy and helpful to "bring a hermeneutics of suspicion to media studies and the investigation of religion and material culture in the digital age." Speaking to earlier discussions about ethnography in the digital age he underlined the need for hybrid methods. He said, "There's no 'pure' digital ethnography. We have to develop the tools to track people between both online and offline worlds."

Dr. Manuel Vásquez, Dr. David Morgan, and Dr. Dragan Kujundzic listen as Dr. Sid Dobrin presents his angle on religion, interpretation, and the digital age.

Echoing Morgan, Stewart Hoover, Professor of Media Studies and founder/director of the Center for Media, Religion, and Culture, underlined that while "the 'digital age' is different, we must view religion and media through an historical lens...looking at the issues our research presents over time." Furthermore, he talked about how he is not interested in studying the media on the screen people are viewing, but watching the people who are watching the media. Beyond this ethnographic perspective, he encouraged researchers in this area to think cosmopolitan-ly. He closed stating, "religious transnationalism, globalization, and the like must be considered in our study of religion & digital media."

Kujundzic and Dobrin each added their own perspectives, with the former focusing on the post-modern lens and the study of religion and media and the latter bringing his perspective from literature studies to the consideration of religion in print media, film, music, and digital media.

Feeling as if they had drank water from a firehose all day long, the participants and presenters retired to the Keene Faculty Center for a reception to interact and continue the discussion.

As wine glasses clinked and the conversation circled back to the various topics presented throughout the day the general conclusion was that the day was a success. Not only were the papers and topics scintillating and interesting, each in their own regard, but the atmosphere of the conference was prosperous in that it brought together core academics and new scholars to discuss an apposite interdisciplinary field that is of special interest to anyone concerned with religion, digital media, or the intersection and intermeshing of the two in the 21st-century and beyond.

Special thanks to Dr. Manuel Vásquez, Dr. David Hackett, Dr. Terje Østebø, Dr. Phillip Green, and Dr. Robert Kuwushima for their support of the conference. Thank you also to the conference's graduate student organizers Prea Persaud, Jason Purvis, and Caroline Reed for their efforts in making this first annual grad conference with #UFreligion a major triumph and contribution to the fields of religious studies and digital humanities.

Ever find yourself asking, "who am I?" Here's your answer

February 3, 2015

Go Eagles!

Not how you thought a blog on identity and ultimate questions would begin, huh? Neither did I, but it happened...so let's go with it.

I am an Eagle. A Concordia Eagle to be exact. All of my degrees, thus far, come from Concordia University Irvine, CA where I studied education, theology, and culture. Best of all, that's where I met my wife. I owe a lot to CUI.

That right there is a one perty lil' campus!

So, when Rev. Quinton Anderson, the campus pastor at CUI, contacted me about blogging for their series, "One God. One Question. What Would You Ask?" I jumped at the opportunity.

On Mondays and Fridays at the start of their Spring semester students are being asked to reflect on BIG questions of identity, purpose, and faith including, "Who am I?" "Why do bad things happen?" and "What is good, true, and beautiful?" Alongside the chapel messages that address each question the students, faculty, and staff at CUI are invited to explore the questions via blog posts on the same topic.

I am excited, and honored, to write two blogs for the series:

Who am I?
What is good, right, and beautiful? (on the minds of many freshman who are embarking on CUI's Core Curriculum)

I invite you to check out the blog series and read my first post -- "Who am I?" -- at the Abbey West blog.

And, yeah, go Eagles!

The best of #SuperBowl religion sightings

February 2, 2015

A snoozer of a first half. A metaphysical drama of miracles in the second. Whether a Patriots fan, Seahawks supporter, or somewhere in between, you have to admit that was one heck of a Super Bowl.

Then there were the ads. Yawn. For the most part. Except when Nationwide had a kid come back from the dead. What a buzz kill Nationwide. As one tweeter aptly explained, after all those dad oriented, tear-jerking, heart-string-pulling commercials it was the psychiatrist's industry that had the best marketing at the Super Bowl.

What about religion? In some television markets, Scientology released its annual ad, this time entitled, "The Age of Answers." But there were other, more subtle and less evangelistic religious sightings during the Super Bowl and I was there on the front lines, at the edge of my seat, with beer and buffalo wing in hand to faithfully report on all the religion at Super Bowl XLIX.

*Read "Scientology at the Super Bowl" from Sightings

To be fair, I warned everyone:

So then, the tweets and Facebook posts rolled on. Here are the top tweets of the night:

Beginning and End, Alpha and Omega

It was Terminator Genisys who not only gave us a glimpse of some apocalyptic future, but also gave a shout out to back in the day. And I mean way back in the day. Like at the beginning. With over 600 impressions on Twitter and a few comments on the book of faces the Hebrew hash-tag was a hit.

Then Mophie, a battery phone case company, made a big splash by pulling in a major star for their TV spot -- God himself.

Their line, "when your cell phone dies, all hell breaks loose." Even the creator of the cosmos has some issues, as they said, "when your cell phone dies, God knows what can happen."

The Dude Abides

If you didn't know it yet, the Dude came out with an ambient drone album meant to help you fall asleep. It's also meant to boost Squarespace web platforms (FYI, this is a Squarespace site, full disclosure -- it's awesome). In his ad last night, the Dude played a Tibetan Buddhist Singing Bowl (a.k.a. a rin, or suzu, gong) to help lull us to sleep. Yes, the Dude abidezzzzzzzzzz.

Not to be left out of the Asian religion market, Katy Perry flashed her Sanskrit tattoo during her awesome half-time show (fyi, Christ Matthews flashed his cross tattoo after his late first-half TD too). How is Perry's mantra a religious sighting? Sanskrit, while used outside of religious contexts, is a highly ceremonial language used in Hindu and Buddhist traditions. Here, Perry co-opts the idea of the 'mantra' and the spiritual script to undergird what could be called a "life motto" with more spiritual significance.

Not only was Perry's show a hit, she lit up my Twitter and Facebook when I shared her civil religious shout-out "God Bless America" and earlier posted an interview of hers that talked about her religious upbringing and her first CD...which if you didn't know, was a Christian music album. Wha?!

The BIG One

It was the catch heard round the living room. No, not the bobbling miracle at the three yard line for the Seahawks (almost a legend), I'm talking about the game-winning interception by Patriots #21 Malcolm Butler.

Along with a bit of snark...

I posted this, with over 1,200 impressions, 15 shares/retweets, etc. It was the talk of the #SuperBowl #religion evening!

Call me a "religion nerd," like CBS's @lizkineke did, a "crazy religious nut" like my buddy Pat did on FB, or "the Neil deGrasse Tyson of religion" like @LinkChef (btw, best. compliment. ever), but the fact of the matter is that my point was well proved last night.

Religion is everywhere.

On the field. In the commercials. In our homes or in our hearts. #FaithGoesPop

*Follow Ken for more religion, culture, and "faith pop."

*Check out www.FaithGoesPop.com w/ Read the Spirit magazine

According to Pew Research, "The Japanese flag, for example, includes a hinomaru, or rising sun – representative of Shinto spiritual roots within the former Japanese empire."

The central emblem is the Aztec pictogram for Tenochtitlan, now Mexico City, the center of the Mexica (Aztec) empire. The eagle symbolizes the sun and is a representation of the victorious god Huitzilopochtli, who "bowed" to the Mexica and their power. The snake may represent the figure Quetzalcoatl, who was traced back to Teotihuacan and was the mythical establisher of state authority and power in Mesoamerica. The cactus (tenoch) is emblematic of Tenochtitlan and thus the entire symbology represents the divine establishment of the Mexica in their capital city, Tenochtitlan (lit., "the place of the cactus").

The flag of Bhutan draws from the Durkpa Tibetan Buddhist tradition and features Druk, the Thunder Dragon. Druk, it is believed, divinely approved the establishment of Bhutanese Buddhism with a clap of thunder.

While arguments have been made that the sun in the center of the flag is an example of the European motif of the "sun in splendor," Diego Abad de Santillán, and others, have argued that the "Sun of May" is a representation of the Incan deity Inti.

The Union Jack of Great Britain, as well as its descendant flags throughout the commonwealth, "make reference to three Christian patron saints: the patron saint of England, represented by the red cross of Saint George, the patron saint of Ireland, represented by the red saltire of Saint Patrick, and the patron saint of Scotland, represented by the saltire of Saint Andrew." (Wikipedia)

Also called Taekkuk (referring to the Yin and Yang halves of the circle in the center of the flag) the Korean flag exudes balance and harmony.

The red and blue circle in the center is called 'Taeguk', the origin of all things in the universe. The central thought is perfect harmony and balance: A continuous movement within the sphere of infinity, resulting in one unit. The blue part of 'Taeguk' is called 'Eum' or in Chinese, Yin, and represents all negative aspects of the balance while the red part is called 'Yang' and describes all the positive apects. The circle itself represents unity - bringing together the negative and the positive, while the Yin and Yang represent the duality. Examples of duality are heaven and hell, fire and water, life and death, good and evil, or night and day

The four trigrams at the corners (called 'Kwe' in Korean) also represent the concept of opposites and balance.

Whereas Saudi Arabia's flag is explicit, the Iranian flag is more cryptic in its symbology. The central emblem is a highly stylized composite of various Islamic elements: a geometrically symmetric form of the word Allah and overlapping parts of the phrase lā ʾilāha ʾillà l-Lāh, (There is no God Except Allah), forming a monogram in the form of a tulip it consists of four crescents and a line.

This flag uses the most recognized symbol of Jewish identity and wider community -- the Star of David. Still, the earliest Jewish usage of the symbol was inherited from medieval Arabic literature and Kabbalists who used the symbol for talismanic properties in amulets (segulot) where it was known as the Seal of Solomon.

The central symbol in the Indian flag is the Ashoka Chakra, itself a depiction of the dharmachakra; represented with 24 spokes. According to Wikipedia, "When Buddha achieved nirvana (Nibbana) at Gaya, he came to Sarnath on the outskirts of Varanasi. There he found his five disciples (panch vargiya Bhikshu) Ashwajeet, Mahanaam, Kaundinya, Bhadrak and Kashyap, who had earlier abandoned him. He preached his first sermon to them, thereby promulgating the Dharmachakra. This is the motif taken up by Ashoka and portrayed on top of his pillars."

According to the Slovak government, "The double silver cross allegedly symbolizes the tradition of St. Benedict, St. Cyril and St. Methodius, but in reality this is a Christian symbol for older resurrection of Jesus Christ, which was used in Byzantine Empire since the 9th century."

The Arabic inscription on the flag, written in the calligraphic Thuluth script, is the shahada or Islamic declaration of faith:

لَا إِلٰهَ إِلَّا الله مُحَمَّدٌ رَسُولُ الله

lā ʾilāha ʾillā-llāh, muhammadun rasūlu-llāh

There is no god but God, Muhammad is the messenger of God.[1]

The shahada in the Saudi flag, with individual words highlighted in different colours. Word order shown by colour key at bottom. (Read from right to left)

The green of the flag represents Islam and the sword stands for the House of Saud. (Credit, Wikipedia)

Why 1/3 of Countries Have Religious Symbols on National Flags

January 28, 2015

Yes, you read that right. According to Pew Research, 64 nations around the world fly "national flags that include religious symbols."

Pew further clarified the flags according to the religions they represent:

“Of the 64 countries in this category, about half have Christian symbols (48%) and about a third include Islamic religious symbols (33%), with imagery on flags from the world’s two largest religious groups appearing across several regions.”

— Pew Research

And if the number of religious standards flapping in the wind is a surprise for you, that's nothing compared to national anthems which contain religious themes. Upwards of 126 different nations have explicitly religious titles, themes, lyrics, or metaphors embedded in their official state song. That's somewhere between 64-66% of nations (depending on your worldwide count, ranging from 189-196 sovereign countries).

So much for the separation of church and state.

While different nations have different notions of the separation of church and state and others make no distinction nor erect any partition between the two, many (if not most) countries have some imperative to differentiate between the role, expression, or function of religion and state respectively. Still, this is a tricky issue seeing as religion continues to play a role, whether explicitly or implicitly, in the formation of many a nation-state -- not to mention "national identity."

*For more on religion and culture, follow @kchitwood

Indeed, there are varying degrees of delineation between "church" and "state" depending on the legal parameters and constitutional mandates that speak to the appropriate relationship between religion and politics in each respective nation. While there may be laws governing the separation, there are varying degrees of distance wherein religion and state function as two independent bodies or wherein pluralism is tolerated, but there is still an official state religion (a la in the United Kingdom). In addition to being known as "separation of church and state," the idea is encapsulated by other concepts such as secularism, disestablishment, religious liberty, pluralism, or constitutional tolerance. Essentially, the idea of "separation of church and state" is fluid, and thus slippery, to comprehend and apply.

Beyond this nebulous concept of "separation," why do so many countries appeal to religious symbology in elements for their national imagery and imaginary?

It seems to me that mixing religious symbols with state power is still, despite the augury of the prophets of secularization, a viable option for nation-states and institutions to offer a relative degree of control to their leadership in a world ever more chaotic because of economic, political, and social instability and time-space compression due to the forces of globalization. “The use of a simple symbol in a film, a book or an advertisement says far more than any wordy explanation ever could” wrote Adele Nozedar in The Element Encyclopedia of Secret Signs and Symbols, “Signs and symbols, our invention of them and understanding of them, transcend the barriers of written language and are the very heart of our existence as human beings.” Thus, symbols are powerful. And religious symbols even more so as it reaches beyond this temporal realm into eternity. Thus, if a nation or leader is looking for an anchor to unify and stabilize her people, religious symbols seem a robust option.

Indeed, these religio-political symbols might be said to offer what David Morgan calls a “web of communication," giving the nation an almost iconic status. Morgan talks about the "sacred gaze," which denotes any way of seeing that invests its object—an image, a person, a time, a place—with spiritual significance. Using an interdisciplinary approach, Morgan investigates how viewers incorporate and attend to religious symbols and images and how that encounter furnishes a social, intellectual, and perceptual construction of reality. Essentially, Morgan argues that religious symbols -- be they Protestant, Catholic, or otherwise -- are not to be viewed in isolation. Rather, they must be seen within their social contexts, which includes more than theological ideas, but devotional attitudes and practices, everyday rituals, personal testimonies, and "the sacred space of the home." Building on this proposition, it would be fair to say that these symbols in the flags are powerful regulators of human passions and perspectives on others, especially in the context of nation-states.

Basically, these flag symbols not only solidify an independent group identity, but attempt to create a political or national identity that cuts across urban centers, rural villages, regions, or states. In countries where religious pluralism dominates, or there are significant religious minorities, this may mean that these flags cut across religious boundaries as well, in order to regulate not only institutional relationships but personal and familial ones as well. These religious symbols are able to do so, because they are attached to a symbol of massive power -- the national flag -- which produces a sense of awe, enormity, and transcendent grandeur that in turn provides a shared reference point for members of a community with similar, or in some cases dissimilar, world views. While religious minorities may contest the symbology, the symbol is able to -- because of cultural, social, economic, or religious context -- unite enough of the nation to provide a mainstay for shared civic character.

Even countries without explicit religious symbol rely on the same potency of shared imagery. In the U.S., our flag may be bereft of religious images, but the waving Stars and Stripes resplendent in the wind has been known to evoke iconic ecstasies and rapturous emotions in the patriotic members of the U.S.'s civil religious. Has it not? While the U.S. flag doesn’t employ an explicitly religious symbol it is still imbued with attendant symbolical meaning and religious effect.

According to Emile Durkheim’s definition, religion is a unified system of beliefs and practices which unite individuals in to one moral community. While Durkheim may certainly be critiqued, the sociality that religion provides cannot be denied. If the role of politics and state institutions is to establish its hegemony over a people and have the same people accept that state's authority as normative for their lives, both individual and communal, then religion, as a cultural phenomenon, becomes a primary tool wherein to establish said community and suffuse its compliance to state-craft with divine intimations. Religion is the soothsayer of the magic of state.

As such, a religious symbol in a flag is used to great effect as a sibyl of state authority. Hence, why so many nations around the world employ such images even today in what is supposed to be an every more globalized, pluralistic, and secularized modern world.

*For more on religion and politics, you may want to read "Is Kim Jong-un a god? 'The Interview' and the Juche idea."

*For more on religion and culture, follow @kchitwood

Is Kim Jong-un a god? "The Interview" & the Juche Idea

January 27, 2015

Last weekend (January 24 ,2015) the controversial comedy, "The Interview," starring Seth Rogen, James Franco, and Randall Park was released to Netflix.

The movie, which seemingly upset the Democratic Republic of Korea (DPRK) for its portrayal of Kim Jong-un, its "supreme leader," was streamed millions of times over the weekend, with mixed reviews on social media. “The Interview” was originally intended for normal, wide release in theaters worldwide, but Sony Studios scrapped that plan subsequent to the nation’s biggest theater chains pulling out due to terror threats, supposedly from the hackers who infiltrated the studio in late November, 2014. Still, Sony has been able to make up at least $40 million after limited release, digital downloads, and now an undisclosed deal from Netflix.

The question I'm asking is how "The Interview" helps peel back the film on a little known religio-political current active in the world today -- the Juche idea.

The plot of the films revolves around the characters Rogen and Franco play as pop-cultur turned political journalists who are coached to assassinate Kim Jong-un (Park) after booking an interview with him.

Near the climax of the film, the people's propaganda minister Sook Yung Park joins the conspiracy but contests the assassination opting instead to de-deify the young North Korean leader. She says, "people think he is a god. We must make them see he is not a god."

According to Adherents.com, Juche is the 10th largest religion in the world, with 19 million followers. It is ranked right behind Sikhism in terms of size (23 million), right ahead of "Spiritism" (15 million) and Judaism (14 million).

But what is it? Can we even call it a religion? Why haven't I heard of this? Are there any Juche temples in my town?

Also known as "Kimilsungism," Juche is the only state-recognized ideology in the DPRK. Christianity, Buddhism, and all other religions are not permitted in North Korea -- only Juche is allowed.

“Juche began in the 1950s and is the official philosophy promulgated by the North Korean government and educational system. Its promoters describe Juche as simply a secular, ethical philosophy and not a religion. But, from a sociological viewpoint Juche is clearly a religion, and in many ways is even more overtly religious than Soviet-era Communism or Chinese Maoism.”

— Adherents.com

Typically translated as "self-reliance," it is a religio-political argument formed by Kim Il-sung which postulates that the Korean masses are the masters of the country's development. For two decades, from 1950s-70s, Kim and other party theorists such as Hwang Jang-yop as built on this Idea to justify the government's policies and its actions. Among these are its Third-world-oriented political and military independence and economic self-sufficiency.

Juche was first referenced as a North Korean ideology in a speech delivered by Kim Il-sung on December 28, 1955 -- "On Eliminating Dogmatism and Formalism and Establishing Juche in Ideological Work." In it, Kim Il-sung stated, "To make revolution in Korea we must know Korean history and geography as well as the customs of the Korean people. Only then is it possible to educate our people in a way that suits them and to inspire them an ardent love for their native place and their motherland." In this way, Kim Il-sung was establishing a metaphysics of "Being" for North Koreans that entailed a place-bound sense of geopolitics, destiny, revolution, and the cosmos, which was intensely nationalistic.

Hwang Jang-yop, Kim's chief ideologue, re-discovered Kim's speech at the time when Kim sought to build on the twin pillars of a cult of personality and his own version of Marxist-Leninism into a North Korean creed. Drawing on Marxist-Leninist principles Juche espouses state atheism, to the detriment of all other religions. At the same time, the cult of personality developed into a mythology that the supreme leader of the DPRK was indeed a god -- the divine imprimatur on the Juche idea.

In 1982, Kim Jong-Il, Kim Il-sung's son, produced a treatise On the Juche Idea, in which he stated:

“The Juche idea is the precious fruit of the leader’s profound, widespread ideological and theoretical activities, and its creation is the most brilliant of his revolutionary achievements. By creating the great Juche idea, the leader opened up a new road leading to victory in the revolution before the working class and the masses of the people, and brought about a historic turn in the fulfillment of the revolutionary cause of the people....The Juche idea represents an invariable guiding idea of the Korean revolution and a great revolutionary banner of our time. At present, we are confronted with the honorable task of modeling the whole society on the Juche idea.”

— Kim Jong Il

Juche, in this formulation, is a sort of reactionary modernism, founded in Marxist-Leninist ideas of geo-politics and Confucian ideals of hierarchy that added an emphasis on the power of a Korean mythos mixed up with blood, soil, race, destiny, and place seeking to mobilize the Korean people to be self-sufficient and perhaps sublime national achievement. Juche is the cosmos-constructing and identity founding mythos of the North Korean people and their "republic" that undergirds the charisma of authority established by Kim Il-sung and disseminated by mass media, propaganda, and other elements of state control, which molds a human leader into a heroic, and in this case, worshipful icon with unquestioned authority and wisdom.

But, is it a religion or a secular political philosophy? Adherents.com shares this reasoning:

“it has so many adherents, is so influential in their lives, and is so different from any other religious system, that including it on this list may be necessary in order to accurately reflect the total world religious economy.”

— Adherents.com

While those at Adherents.com attempt to establish Juche as a religion in order to include it in their religion rankings, I am more prone to say the answer is yes -- Juche is both a religious ideology and a political philosophy.

Religion has often been utilized as an element, and sometimes a prime one, in the magic of state craft. In this instance, Kim Il-sung and his philosophical followers developed a distinctly Korean, heretically Communist, atheistic ideology that supplanted all other religions and ideas for the sake of establishing the Korean state. It is an ideology with rituals, community building elements, ideas of sacredness and profanity, cosmological consequence, and an ability to guard against chaos and questions of identity for the Korean people in conception and the political elite in reality. It is a totalizing ideology that, at the very least, functions as a religion if it is not a religion in and of itself.

Interestingly enough, Juche has established some centers in other countries as well. There are centers, reportedly, in Australia, Japan, Europe, New York, and India. Established in Paris in 2003, the European Regional Society for the Study of the Juche believes that by studying "the Juche idea" the people of Europe might also be enabled to "consider everything centering on human beings" and to "solve things and matters arising in all the human affairs...relying on the efforts the people themselves." Divorced from its Korean context, Juche is meant to be a Third-World ideology, advancing that developing countries should be permitted to do so independently and be treated as equals in global politics rather than as subordinate to foreign powers and the world's elite nation-states and regions.

If you are critical of such an idea, you may be met with a rejoinder from the successor of this ideology -- Kim Jong-un -- who, in "The Interview" befriends Dave Skylark (Franco) and picks up on some of the latter's philosophy. To all those who hate on Juche, he might reply, "you hate us cause you ain't us."

*To learn more about Juche as an ideology, you can read Kim Jong Il's On the Juche Idea or JUCHE: A Christian Study of North Korea's State Religion, written by Thomas J. Belke from an evangelical Christian perspective.

*For a soundtrack to the Juche, check out this unique Bandcamp album.

The Mission & reclaiming humanity in our reading of history

January 22, 2015

The first time I encountered the movie 'The Mission' was in a hostel in Berlin. My wife and I were backpacking across Europe and we met up with a couple of friends at our Hakeschermarkt hostel. One of them was listening to the film's score and he shared it with me. It was beautiful, moving, and immense.

When I got home I watched the movie and found it intriguing and visually stunning. This week I was able to 're-read' the film by watching it again -- this time through the lens of the study of religion in Latin America.

Besides proving that Liam Neeson is a bad ass even in a monk's habit and showing Robert De Niro can't stop the wild and volatile nature of, well, himself, this film is an invitation to recapture the human element of our records of the past and a challenge to the narrative of "the inevitability of history." These are two very important points that, I contend, we must recapture to address pertinent crises of our own today.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood.

First, a short overview of the film (go watch it, seriously...do it now). The film is set during the Jesuit Reductions in South America, specifically in the border regions (Tres Fronteras) between Brazil, Paraguay, and Argentina. The Jesuits have set up missions independent of the Spanish state in order to reach the Guarani people and to avoid political oversight or removal when the Portuguese are handed the territories within which they operate.

Throughout, the film deals themes of violence, peace, and transformation (warning, spoilers ahead). The Guarani kill one missionary only to receive another -- Father Gabriel -- (played by Jeremy Lyons) who comes with music and peace. A mercenary named Rodrigo Mendoza (Robert De Niro) kills his brother in a love triangle in the colonial city Asuncion, which is built on a slave economy. Gabriel seeks to redeem Mendoza and leads him, through trial and travail, to join the Jesuit order and the mission "above the falls."

The work of the mission, however, is threatened by political developments. The Spanish and Portuguese crowns have signed a treaty that transfers the territory where the missions are located from Spanish to Portuguese jurisdiction. Cardinal Altamirano (Ray McAnally), an emissary from the Pope in Rome, arrives to decide whether the missions will remain under the protection of the Church. Tension and disagreement ensue as various interlocutors (the missionaries, colonists, and the Guarani) all contest the handover of land. The central issue is whether or not the Guarani will be forced off their land.

While Altamirano is impressed by the missions among the Guarani he also recognizes that the missions pose an economic threat to the European (Spanish or Portuguese) plantations. Thus, Altamirano tells the Indians that they must leave and orders the priests to accept the transfer of the mission territories. In private, he explains to Gabriel that the future of the Jesuit order in Europe depends upon their not resisting the political authorities in South America.

The Guarani, unmoved by political arguments and unable to understand what Altamirano says is the will of God, decide to defend their home. Mendoza, encouraged by an Guarani boy renounces his vow of obedience as a Jesuit and chooses to fight alongside them. Gabriel discourages him and instead decides to lead mass with women, children, and older men as European troops descend and the mission is destroyed, the Guarani killed.

Near the end of the film, Cardinal Altamarino and the Portuguese political representative (Don Hontar) are discussing the events that unfold and the latter laments that what occurred was unfortunate, but inevitable. He says, "we must work in the world; the world is thus." To this, Altamarino replies, "No, thus have we made the world. Thus I have made it."

In this one line is the point of the film that I am trying to highlight -- that history is not inevitable, that human actors play a key role in all historical events, forces, or movements. Cardinal Altamarino recognizes that the massacre was not predetermined, but instead that human actors had made it so by their thoughts, words, and deeds.

School children peer over at a wooden representation of a victim of the Inquisition in Lima, Peru.

A similar point is made in another work concerning colonial South America -- Modern Inquisitions: Peru and the Colonial Origins of the Civilized World by Irene Silverblatt. Interrogating records from the Inquisition in colonial Peru, Silverblatt argues that rather than being a paragon of pre-modern religious fanaticism, the Inquisition was a thoroughly modern, and some might say 'civilized,' affair engaged in bureaucratic wrangling, a fidelity to procedure, and a magical process of modern state-craft built around race-thinking. She argues throughout the book that in order to see the Inquisition as such we must plumb the historical depths of the records to find a) that the accused, the inquisitor, the witnesses, and the participants in the autos-de-fe were all human and b) that the Inquisition was not inevitable as such.

She wrote of looking at the records, "we read about disputes, errors, missed chances, and disastrous calculations; we read tales of human strength and courage, about moments of extraordinary valor and acts of profound dignity; and sometimes we can even find flashes of humor." (p. 23) She intimates here that in looking to the historical sources, we must find the characters to not be some mindless figures caught up in fixed forces, but as "human beings -- replete with foibles, strengths, and shortcomings -- who act in ways not always predictable or anticipated." (p. 22)

Likewise, in her book Time and Sacrifice in the Aztec Cosmos Kay Almere Read approaches the bloody system of sacrifice in the Mexica cosmos and takes a novel approach compared to other historical overviews and explanations. Rather than assuming that the entire Mesoamerican civilization was full of sadist-psychopaths who enjoyed murdering one another, let's assume that it's not just about sacrifice and that these human beings of the past were engaged in, what they thought, was a world-ordering and moral affair engaged with the fundamental powers of the universe (time and space). Let's try to understand their point of view. At the same time, Read perhaps goes too far in underestimating the level of resistance to this system of sacrifice in order to illustrate the rationale of it. Certainly, peripheral communities within the Mexica world resisted their capture and the sacrificial system, even though they may have bought into the rational of the cosmological narrative. Again, history is not inevitable.

This same dual emphasis could be applied to other epochs of history -- investigating the "Golden Era of Islamic Science," the "Galileo Affair," the development of Mormonism in the U.S., etc. In each of these instances we can read them according to their headlines, or we can listen to the small voices of history and try to recapture the human elements of each story. Doing so, we will find true believers and dissonant rebels, people on both sides of the conflict and certainly some in the middle. We will discover conflicted characters and moments when maybe, just maybe, things could have gone a different way.

Essentially, we can read history in a black-and-white, "this was always going to happen," manner or we can nuance the story, romance its miscellany, and find the tangible, fallible, and flesh-and-blood stories of men and women wrestling with the worldview of their day to bring about the events that we now read as "inevitable history." In doing so, we will find that these events were anything but assured, but that history could've turned on a dime.

Why is this important? Today, we are dealing with myriad crises. Whether we are in Ferguson, Missouri; Mosul, Iraq; Paris, France; or Monrovia, Liberia we must never lose sight of the human elements of each of these stories, and, likewise, must not assume that there are inexorable forces at work that fate these circumstances to play out in a certain way. Black lives can matter and police work can be respected; violent extremism and sectarian religious communism can be combatted, and disease can be eradicated. There is no need to throw our hands up in the air and either a) ignore the problem or b) act as if there is only one unfortunate outcome.

The way to address these issues with an open mind and for a possible positive outcome is to actively remember, and recapture, the human element at every turn.

We must not think of the protests in Ferguson (and elsewhere) as an "us v. them" drama, but a story of a family who lost a child, a police officer who took a life, a community that feels social pressures that they feel are outside of their control, and political, religious, and social leaders trying to lead toward a peaceful future.

This man has a story, let us not forget.

We must not think of ISIS or other terrorist elements in the world as mindless drones caught up in a tidal wave of "Islamic extremism." These are men and women who feel isolated, de-territorialized, and confused in a chaotic mess of identity crisis wherein they are forced to choose between false binaries of being modern or Muslim, European or Islamic, etc. We must also remember the refugees and the soldiers on the ground with their lives, families, religious sensibilities, and daily concerns. We must also not forget the victims and their hopes, dreams, and aspirations cut short or derailed by violence.

We must not think of Ebola as an unstoppable disease or the cultures wherein it is wreaking havoc as backwards or unable to cope. Diseases have been eradicated before, plagues have been stopped. Throughout, we must remember that those effected are more than bodies, they are embodied beings whose heart beats with similar passions to our own, but are forced to live in a context of fear, suspicion, and death that we can only scarcely imagine.

In conclusion, it is my contention that remembering the human element will often lead us to more level headed, compassionate, and deeper understanding of not only historical events, but contemporary crises. By considering the movie "The Mission" and the study of various eras in American hemispherical history we are invited to recognize that these stories are not of individuals caught up along some inhuman wave of social forces or inevitable metaphysical dramas, there is an ontological, chaotic, dynamic relationship between event and human.

We must never forget the human element. If we do, we will often misconstrue history and/or contemporary events to the point that we assume that the people involved have no humanity to defend, that they were simply good/bad, evil/heroic, and that history dealt with them accordingly. Likewise, we must never ignore the history of a people. As William Loren Katz wrote, "Those who assume that a people have history worth mentioning are likely to believe they have no humanity worth defending."

Appreciating the history, and humanity, of people, stories, and events, on the other hand, will lead us to greater understanding, dialogue, and eventually, hopefully, to compassion as we consider the story, as we wrestle with its implications, and we draw lessons to learn from the past and the present to confront our common future.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood.

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Are Islam & science compatible?

January 20, 2015

Are Islam and science compatible? Is the Islamic faith harmonious with the science of the natural world or is there, rather, an irreconcilable conflict between the metaphysical system based on faith and the demands of reason and empirical inquiry?

This question is the one I proposed to a class of some 30 undergraduate students at the University of Florida on January 20, 2015 as I lectured on the topic of "Islam & Science" as a teaching assistant for Dr. Anna Peterson's "Religion and Science" course.

This question is inexorably tied up in consideration of history, contemporary politics, discussions of civilization, debates about "oriental" understandings of the past, and the fields of philosophy, science, and metaphysics.

Essentially, it's a complicated topic. As I said to my students, covering this topic in one 50-minute lecture is like drinking water from a firehose. You can't keep it all down, catch what you can! To help the students and to share the discussion with others I voiced-over my public Prezi and am sharing it with you HERE.

Please FOLLOW THIS LINK to watch, and listen to, my presentation of the historical context, the contemporary debates, and the significant highlights we must consider, understand, and appreciate concerning Islam and science and to be able to answer the question of whether or not these two are harmonious, compatible, or engaged in irreconcilable conflict.

Rebel Baptist, Political Pastor: The story of John Chilembwe & its relevance today

January 15, 2015

Happy John Chilembwe Day!

Today (January 15, 2015) is national John Chilembwe Day in Malawi. A national hero since its genesis as a nation in 1964, Chilembwe is celebrated as an early anti-colonial figure who opposed mistreatment of African workers on European-owned plantations and the lack of social, political, and economic promotion of Africans.

On January 23, 1915, Chilembwe, an American trained Baptist minister and educator, led what was to be an unsuccessful uprising against the colonial rulers of Nyasaland (Malawi). Now, he is honored as a hero of African independence and 100 years after his failed armed rebellion he is remembered as a paragon of anti-hegemonic struggle.

But Chilembwe's story begs a few questions: 1) how could an evangelical pastor be led to organize an armed uprising? 2) what can be learned from his example in this way? 3) what does his sentiment, action, and death have to teach us today?

*Follow Ken on Twitter for more religion, culture, and theology

First, a little more about Chilembwe. He was born in Nyasaland around 1871 to a Yao father and a Mang'anja slave. In the economic system of the day the Yao (originally from Mozambique) were middlemen between the enslaving Arab traders and the Mang'anja slaves (the local tribal ethnicity). In 1891 the British colonized Nyasaland and took over where the Arab traders began, institutionalizing the system of indigenous control and establishing a system of governance and missions through which to do so.

As a young man Chilembwe met the missionary John Booth. By all accounts Booth was an outcast in colonial circles, described as "an eccentric, apocalyptic British fundamentalist missionary in Baptist persuasion" by historian Robert Rotberg. Booth advanced criticisms of the established Scottish Presbyterian mission and in launching the Zambezi Industrial Mission he formalized a system that promoted more egalitarian formulations for British, Yao, and Mang'anja alike. This message of equality, self-denial, and freedom caught the attention of colonial authorities and riled other missionaries.

John Chilembwe with his wife, Ida, and daughter, Emma (ca. 1910-1914). — John Chilembwe with his wife, Ida, and daughter, Emma (ca. 1910-1914).

Chilembwe became friends with Booth, even caring for his daughter, and was baptized by the progressive pastor on July 17, 1893. When Booth traveled to the U.S. in 1897 to raise funds for the mission, Chilembwe departed with him. Booth and Chilembwe parted on friendly terms and the latter attended the Virginia Theological Seminary and College -- a small Baptist institution in Lynchburg, VA. Here, Chilembwe encountered not only the prejudice against "negroes" in the American south, but also witnessed radical American "Negro" ideas and the works of such luminaries as John Brown, Booker T. Washington, Marcus Garvey, and John L. Dube -- a radical Zulu missionary from South Africa. It was in the U.S. where Chilembwe acquired a global perspective on the struggle of people of African descent and the need to confront injustice and white hegemony. After his vocational training was complete, Chilembwe was ordained a Baptist minister in 1899.

In 1900 he returned to Nyasaland and worked for the American National Baptist Convention. He established a network of independent African schools and planted a church built of brick (no small expense in those days) at the center of his own Providence Industrial Mission (PIM). During this time, Chilembwe became close with leaders of several independent African churches (AICs), including some Seventh Day Baptist orders and Church of Christ congregations. Chilembwe dreamed of a united African Christian front with his own mission at the center. While he also had some contact with Jehovah's Witnesses during this time, it is debatable how much the Watchtower's millennial orientation influenced Chilembwe's own theology.

Chilembwe also developed plantations of cotton, coffee, and tea. Through all of these endeavors his aim was to establish a system of justice, equality, and African agency. This contrasted with the established views of British colonial society, advanced by the likes of Alexander Livingstone Bruce, who held that educated Africans (such as Chilembwe) had no place in colonial society. Bruce viewed AICs as "centers for agitation" and fought for the prohibition of their expansion. Bruce and Chilembwe came into direct confrontation with Bruce openly criticizing the missionary pastor and the latter advocating for the tenants on the Bruce estate, even going so far as to build a PIM church on Bruce's land.

It was in this crucible that Chilembwe's anti-colonial sentiments began to take shape. Angered by Bruce's mistreatment of the African people and frustrated by the lack of political voice afforded to African men, Chilembwe vocally criticized the colonial racist system. Then, a series of unfortunate events led to an eventual armed uprising founded on this critique. First, Chilembwe's area was hit by a hard famine. Second, immigrants from Mozambique caused a rush on land that pushed out Africans and afforded white settlers an opportunity seize what prime land was left. Third, a tax was imposed on African huts, which forced many African men to leave home to find work in urban centers. Finally, and more personally, Chilembwe began to incur several debts that his fundraising efforts with American backers could not cover. Fourth, a personal struggle with asthma, the death of his own daughter, and a general decline in health led Chilembwe to become a frustrated and agitated man.

Chilembwe broke when the British conscripted Mang'anjas to fight Germany in World War I. Rotberg wrote that Chilembwe penned a letter that captured his sentiments at the time. He wrote, "We understand that we have been invited to shed our innocent blood in this world's war....[But] will there be any good prospects for the natives after...the war? We are imposed upon more than any other nationality under the sun...." The remainder of the letter, signed "on behalf of my countrymen" was an open protest against the neglect of African agency and freedom. The combination of this generally unjust system and the mistreatment of famine refugees and immigrants, Chilembwe was inspired to revolt. Calling on the legacy of staunch abolitionist John Brown, who organized the attack on Harper's Ferry in 1859, Chilembwe organized and sparked an open, armed, rebellion against the British in order "to make our blood count at last."

Chilembwe continues to grace Malawi currency to this day. He used to be featured on all printed notes until the year 2000.

Drawing on his contacts in multiple AICs and as an advocate for the people, Chilembwe was able to gather around 200 armed men. The uprising began on January 23, 1915 with the goal of killing all white, male, Europeans. The revolutionaries murdered three British colonists, including the widely hated William J. Livingston, whom they beheaded in front of his family. Following the raiding of a local ammunitions store the rebels retreated to pray. The rebellion did not gain popular support and most were shocked by the level of violence that Chilembwe and his followers unleashed on the British. Without widespread backing, the Chilembwe rebels fled to Mozambique where he was killed by African soldiers on February 3, 1915.

Even though his rebellion was unsuccessful and bloody the people of Malawi celebrate Chilembwe as the pioneer of Malawi independence and the initial spark that led to Malawi's own nationhood in 1964.

Chilembwe's life and struggle are worth contemplating and celebrating here in the U.S. as well. For three reasons:

1) In the line of John Brown at Harper's Ferry, Chilembwe physically, emotionally, and theologically embodied the need for the subaltern voice to speak out against oppression, injustice, systemic racism, and white privilege. Racism and injustice still oppress our world, our cultures, our nations. It is not enough to pass laws and pretend the issue is settled. Instead, the subaltern voice needs to be able to continually critique, and call into question, a system that persistently marginalizes, disenfranchises, and supports a continually racist duplicity in the U.S. In America, and elsewhere, there need to be Chilembwes to speak out against the system that oppresses them.

2) Simultaneously, Chilembwe's story is a testament to the limits of violent struggle. While Chilembwe's passion and voice are commendable, his brutal response is not. While a rationale for armed rebellion could be explicated in certain contexts, now is not the time for an armed conflict. As we saw in the wake of the protests in Ferguson over the death of Michael Brown, a necessary and critical conversation about race and privilege in the U.S. was robbed of its power by violent radicals who looted the neighborhood, destroyed buildings, and fought back violently at police. While not equal to the bloodshed of Chilembwe's revolt, it is a telltale lesson that peaceful protest and non-violent resistance must be the way forward in fighting injustice.

3) Significantly, Chilembwe's influence speaks to the vibrant contribution that African evangelical theology and practice brings to contemporary movements and debates over freedom, quality, justice, and the fact that #BlackLivesMatter. A peaceful protest against privilege must involve a theological voice. This was exemplified in the life and civil theology of Martin Luther King Jr., whose celebration occurs shortly after Chilembwe's (January 19, 2015). His good news of freedom, equality, and non-violent struggle not only inspired a generation, but entire nations.

Presently, I am in awe of the many progressive, conservative, and undefinable evangelical voices who are speaking out about racism, oppression, and injustice in the U.S. right now. Immediately, the names of Andy Gill, the people of the Theology of Ferguson blog, and Rev. Dr. Andre E. Johnson spring to mind, but there are certainly many, many others. Just as Chilembwe's independent, evangelical, apostolic, and millennial vision inspired him to speak out, so too must Christians today give scriptural voice to the struggle for justice. Principally, their message should be one that inspires peace, not violence.

As Andy Gill tweeted today, "The answer is not guns or violence, it's intellect and patience. #justice"

In that spirit, Happy John Chilembwe Day indeed.

*Like this blog? Read "Black Jesus & Religion and Race on the Margins"

*Follow Ken on Twitter for more on religion, culture, and theology

Why we all need a prayer labyrinth - review & interview with Travis Scholl

January 13, 2015

My first experience with the labyrinth wasn’t, um…traditional. For those of you unfamiliar with prayer labyrinths, they are paths which lead, via a circuitous, unicursal (only a single path) route, to the center of an intricate design and back out again. Walking a labyrinth is a means of praying with the body along with the mind and soul. Often installed near, or inside, churches and cathedrals they are meant for spiritual journeys, or, as Travis Scholl wrote in his new book Walking the Labyrinth: A Place to Pray and Seek God, a labyrinth is “a path of pilgrimage and prayer, a living symbol of the journey of faith in a sinful, broken world.”

*Follow Ken on Twitter - @kchitwood

But again, my first experience with a prayer labyrinth wasn’t of stone and grass, intricate designs or holy architecture…it involved TVs, trash-cans, and staring at a mirror. No, it wasn't an odyssey into the strange world of David Bowie's "Labyrinth" film (though, that is a trip). Designed as an “interactive installation for spiritual journeys” the one I first walked was a contemporary twist on an ancient tradition, aimed at a digital, and distracted, generation. You can even explore the labyrinth online HERE.

Since that first experience at a Lutheran youth gathering in Palm Springs, CA I have since explored labyrinths in Nelson, New Zealand, Paris, France, and in Houston, TX. Each one took me on its own particular path toward “the unknowable center of life, its mystery, unseen and unheard in the babble and hustle of our everyday existence.” Indeed, as Scholl intimates, we living in a hurried, inundated, and constantly connected world “need the labyrinth.”

More than anything else, walking a prayer labyrinth is engaging in a physical-spiritual discipline with ancient roots. To understand the labyrinthine ins-and-outs of prayer labyrinths, and to invite readers into a journey of curiosity, discovery, and even divine encounter, Travis Scholl — managing editor of theological publications at Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, MO — wrote this new book with a foreword from Walter Wangerin Jr.

Designed to serve as a 40-day devotional exploration of prayer labyrinth reflections this text is a perfect resource for the season of Lent. Bringing together historical context on the labyrinth, first-hand biographical transparency, creative and intricate writing, and weighty devotional commentary on the crossing of the labyrinth, and indeed the crossing of life, I highly recommend Scholl’s work.

*You can purchase it HERE.

To learn more about the man, his journey, and the book itself read the in-depth interview below:

Tell me a little bit about what got you initially interested with the labyrinth…

My first introduction to the labyrinth came through literature. As an undergrad English major, I read Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges’ Labyrinths, which is a collection of his short stories, parables, and various fictions. Borges’ stories got me very interested in the labyrinth as a literary symbol of paradox and mystery. A passage from Borges is one of the epigraphs to my book. I should also add that I liked playing with maze games as a kid, including Rubik’s Cube, which is, in its own way, a labyrinth.

Why did you decide to interweave your journey with, and through, the labyrinth with a devotional expedition through Lent?

After I discovered the church labyrinth in our neighborhood, it just seemed like an interesting daily discipline to use during Lent. Nothing more, nothing less. As I approached Ash Wednesday, it occurred to me that I could also use it as a daily writing exercise. I actually wrote about that initial experience in my St. Louis Post-Dispatch blog. The book arose from there.

Now, you're Lutheran and the labyrinth, well, isn’t (at least historically). At the very least, you don’t see labyrinths at Lutheran churches and there is some censure that comes from conservative Lutheran circles about practices like this. What kind of blowback do you expect, or have received, and what is your response?

I knew going in that the labyrinth has been coopted by various, for lack of a better word, New Age-y type mysticisms. But I also knew that its roots in medieval Christianity were strong (I had studied the architecture of Chartres cathedral in France during undergrad too). So, as it developed, I saw my book as an attempt to recover the labyrinth as an authentically Christian practice. I don’t know if I really expected “blowback,” but I guess it didn’t surprise me when people misconstrued the labyrinth’s history or what my book is trying to accomplish. No, the labyrinth is not typically “Lutheran.” But then again, 50 years ago, the last thing you’d see on a Lutheran pastor is a chasuble. So, what I’ve always found refreshing as a Lutheran is our tradition’s ability to recover practices from Christian history and re-energize them with a Gospel-centered focus.

You move back-and-forth between history and present, walking the labyrinth and moving through the Gospel of Mark. What does this unconventional approach bring to the readers’ enjoyment of this book and contemplation of its themes?

I hope it does for readers the same thing it did for me: it brought me face-to-face with Jesus Christ in the Scriptures. And it showed that the path Jesus walks in the Gospel of Mark is very much its own kind of labyrinth, the way he moves back-and-forth, around and around Galilee, the way his steps lead inescapably, like a vortex, to the cross. And, finally, the way the empty tomb leads us back out of the vortex, into “our” Galilee.

Have you gone back to walk the labyrinth since you finished the book? What’s different, the same, with this discipline for you now?

After my Lenten discipline, and while I was working on the book, I intentionally stayed away from the actual labyrinth I walked. Mainly because I wanted to get some distance from the experience, the kind of critical distance any writer needs to be able to finish a book. Since then, I’ve walked it a time or three, and what strikes me is how the physical grounds of the labyrinth have changed. There’s a community garden there now, among other things. That may sound trivial, but that’s to me a key component of the labyrinth as a discipline, the way it awakens us to what is happening right in front of our face, which we often don’t see because our mind is somewhere else or our nose is buried in a smartphone. I guess in that sense I see “labyrinths” in a lot of different places now, being attentive to the world around me anytime I walk from one place to another.

When you touch on the Gospel narratives you bring a certain humanizing touch to the narrative (e.g. Jesus laughing p. 175). What does this bring to the story of the Gospels?

I don’t know if it’s something I “bring” to the story of the Gospels as much as it’s something I see or hear happening within them as I read the Gospels. I’m very much drawn to the biblical idea of midrash as a way of reading the Bible, that when we read closely between the lines of texts, we can see something that illuminates the whole of them. It is a way of living in the text rather than simply looking at the text.

Walking the labyrinth is a discipline of the body, the soul, the mind. How does such a practice augment lived Christian spirituality in the 21st century?

This is a great question, because it points to the way that the labyrinth, as one among various Christian practices, involves the whole body, the whole self (similar to, for instance, the Stations of the Cross). For a faith that is centered in the incarnation, I think this is essential to Christian living, especially now when so much of our life and culture pulls us away from the body, from the stuff of earth, which I think is really just another form of Gnosticism, the heresy which simply says the body is “all bad” and the soul is “all good.”

You mention that walking the labyrinth makes you more attentive to the world around you. What did you, by walking the labyrinth, notice about the world that you didn’t before?

I touched on this a little bit already, but one of the things I noticed is that there are so many interesting things we can notice, even on a little patch of grass in the middle of a bustling city, if we just stop for a moment. We miss so much of it. I talk about it in the book, but I remember one day when I could smell warm maple syrup from the café across the street. Or the way the leaves broke open the trees at that particular time in spring. This is life happening before our very eyes, all over the place, so simple but so profound.

What do you hope people get out of this book?

That’s a difficult question for me to answer, because I don’t want to preempt people into a certain way of reading the book. I do hope people can themselves become more attentive to the world around them by reading the book. I certainly hope it gives readers a window into the literary labyrinth we call the Gospel of Mark. But, honestly, I would be incredibly flattered if people simply found a few well-written words in there, words that stick with them for awhile.

Anything else you want to share?

Thanks much for the opportunity to talk about Walking the Labyrinth. I welcome feedback on Twitter (@travisjscholl). Grace and peace in the walking.

How a novel can help us navigate religious, ethnic, tension in Europe

January 8, 2015

The news coming out of Europe this week is disparaging. On Wednesday January 7, 2015 the headlines read, "TERROR IN PARIS." As CNN reported, "Hooded, black-clad gunmen burst into the office of provocative French satirical magazine 'Charlie Hebdo'...killing 12 -- an attack that could be a game changer...."

This comes on the heels of protests over Muslim immigration and 'Islamization' in Germany and reports of "anti-Islamic sentiment finding a foothold" in Sweden (we think, the "open door nation" of all places?!)

Terror. Islamophobia. Immigration. These are trying times and difficult debates for Europe to wrestle with. They are pressing issues we must all confront. In attempting to understand the situation according to both its historical context and contemporary impact we turn to pundits, academics, progressive Muslims condemning the attacks, far-right political parties, journalists defending free-speech, and world leaders.

What if we turned to Henning Mankell, a Swedish novelist and dramatist? Best known for his crime-fighting creation Inspector Kurt Wallander, famously portrayed by Kenneth Branagh on BBC, Mankell's first novel starring Wallander not only speaks to the current crisis, but presents a novel way to help us navigate the tensions between Islam, state secularism, immigration debate, fear over foreign incursion, and racism.

Faceless Killers opens with blood and terror, much like the headlines hit us on Jan. 7, 2015. An elderly couple, the Lövgrens, have been gruesomely murdered. Before she dies from being strangled by a noose, Maria Lövgren whispers one word, "foreign." Though Detective Wallander attempts to keep this aspect of the investigation quiet it soon leaks to the press and soon white supremacist groups increase their hateful rhetoric, which leads to a bloody anti-refugee reprisal including an additional murder. Eventually, Wallander solves the crime through careful, reasoned, investigation, but along the way he wrestles with the changes coming to Sweden in the form of an influx of refugees and immigrants, white supremacy, nationalist sentiments, a conservative swing in politics, increasing drug use, crime, violence and his own feelings about the rapid pace of change and inner feelings of prejudice and racism.

Sound familiar? It should. Given the parallels between Mankell's novel and this week's news stories from Sweden, Germany, and France I propose FIVE THINGS WE CAN LEARN FROM A NOVEL TO NAVIGATE RELIGIOUS & ETHNIC TENSION IN EUROPE and HERE AT HOME:

1. EUROPE AND "THE RISE OF ISLAM"

One of the principle issues that Wallander deals with in Faceless Killers, and indeed all of the detective's stories, is "future shock." Things are changing, rapidly. Many Europeans feel that there is a Trojan-horse like infiltration of Muslims and other immigrants sneaking, forcing, and imposing their way into Europe. The fear is that the "Islamic worldview," -- essentialized as a monolithic bloc -- is entirely incompatible with the secular, liberal, and pluralistic values that define European society.

Basically, the sentiment is that Muslims aren't, and can't be, European. Like oil and water, Islam cannot amalgamate with European civilization. Wallander wonders in the novel whether or not Sweden's "lax immigration policy" permits a new Swedish world order imcompatible with the old. He longs for the past. The safety of an imagined history wherein xenophobia, multiculturalism, violent crime, and fear are supplanted by the forgone smörgåbords, pickled herring, and communal music of old.

In reality, there has been a rapid rise in the European Muslim population. According to the Pew Research Center, the Muslim population in Europe (with Turkey excluded) was around 30 million in 1990, rising to over 44 million in 2010. Estimates range from a total of 55-70 million by 2030. The growing number of Muslims is due primarily to higher birth rates and immigration. While Muslim birth rates are expected to decline and settle over the coming years, the rate will remain slightly higher than the non-Muslim population (2.2 compared to 1.5). In addition to immigration and birth-rate, conversion is also a factor with over 100,000 convert in the UK, over 70,000 in France, and 50,000 in Spain.

In total, there are around 350,000 Muslims in Sweden (4.4% of the population), 4 million in Germany (5%), and 5 million in France (7.5%). The latter being the largest Muslim population in Western Europe. While not all of these are practicing Muslims (a study in France revealed that only a third [33%] are faithful in prayer, alms, etc.) there has still been a significant influx of Muslims in Europe from North Africa and the Middle East.

What this swift swell is causing is a European identity crisis typified by the German supporter of Pegida who held a sign that emphatically declared, "Islam and Europe are not compatible." In attempting to resolve this identity crisis, to cope with the global becoming local, an increasing number of European's are turning to the bedrock of one the first theories of globalization and the worldwide Muslim population -- the Huntingtonian thesis.

Essentially, Samuel P. Huntington's thesis states that cultural and religious identities will be the primary source of conflict and tension in the post-Cold War globalized world. Famously, he quipped that this would prove a "clash of civilizations," principally between "Islam" and "the West." He proposed that wherever the two meet there are "bloody borders."

While this thesis may assume the borders of nation-states the rub is -- what happens when the lines are blurred, when neighborhoods are creolized, and arrondissements are hybrid amalgamations of "Islam" and "the West?"

On the other side, Muslims in Europe, particularly second-generation youth, are wrestling with their newfound secular contexts, individualization, Westernization, inner-hybridity (being both Muslim and European). Sometimes this tension breaks into violence. Other times it is expressed in a re-doubling of religious piety. The tension is expressed in graffiti, hip-hop, poetry, and visual art. More often than not, it is expressed in accommodation of European culture over a Muslim past.

Whether "European" or "Muslim," everyone in Europe is dealing with an identity crisis. From Sweden to Belgium, from the UK to Spain, the people are asking "who are we?"

Unfortunately, in attempting to resolve the inherent tension apparent in this questions, some turn to xenophobic rhetoric or terroristic violence. They buy into Huntington's thesis -- both radical religious terrorists and extreme secular Islamophobes -- share the same language and exacerbate an already strained situation.

2. EUROPEAN SECULARISM.

The following two points are essentially sub-points to the above, in that they explain two primary issues at stake when discussing "the rise of Islam in Europe."

A German PEGIDA supporter holds a sign that reads, "No Islamization of Europe."

First, the idea that Europe is a secular entity, a paragon of nonreligious society making. While we in the U.S. might attach certain ideas to the idea of "secularism" it is important to identify the unique perspective of European secularism.

European secularism might be more properly defined as "laicity." Founded in the French notion of "laïcité" the argument that secularism is bound up with the process of modernization and is a decided progressive move away from traditional religious values. In Europe, secularization has occurred on both a political and social level.

An increase of Muslims, in name and/or practice, seemingly threatens this secular outlook. How can a religious identity mix, meld, or make peace with the nonreligious character of Europe? Again, we are back to this identity crisis. But in Europe it is an identity crisis that not only threatens the body politic, but the very social order, the fabric of the neighborhood, the fütbol pitch, and/or the local pub.

It shakes the idea of European civilization, on both the popular and personal levels, to the core. It strikes at the idea of "who we are" and "who I am."

3. EUROPE, INCREASED IMMIGRATION, and VIOLENT REACTION

Now, from a European perspective, when Muslims move into the neighborhood they upset the secular apple cart. The rhetoric becomes, as referenced above, one of discussing the oil of Islam and the water of European civilization (in its various nation-state manifestations and its pan-continental embodiment). This rhetoric leads to some racial/ethnic binaries from the "European" point of view (more on that later), but what I want to focus on here is the "Muslim" perspective.

With all this rhetoric about immigration changing the face of Europe and Islam invading the continent there is a message delivered to the Muslim populations in places like Spain, Sweden, and France, etc.

The communiqué is, "you, and your kind, don't fit in here. We are a place of secularism, liberty, free speech, freedom of the press, and separation of church & state (although we have official, formal, state churches...just ignore that). You are a religious, backwards, medieval, enslaved, censored, legalistic, and theocratic people."

The unfortunate effect is that not only do far-right Europeans buy into this narrative, but so do many Muslims moving into town. Even though there is much that is modern, global, liberal, progressive, and even secular within the realm of Islamic discourse (especially among immigrant populations) many on both sides buy into the false dichotomy between being European and being Muslim.

It is a recapitulation of the "bloody borders" thesis, but this time within the same country, the same region, the same city, the same neighborhood. Inevitably, this tension breaks. Unfortunately, individuals on both sides react violently as they seek to resolve the anxious self-seeking and identity crisis. Let it not be lost on us that the Charlie Hebdo attack is the most deadly attack on European soil since Anders Breivik killed 77 people motivated by a mutilated far-right European political ideology opposed to Islamization, feminism, cultural Marxism, and multiculturalism.

Using similar language and founded in parallel worldviews, but from different angles, the perpetrators of this type of violence are dealing with the same bastardized vision of the issues at play in increased Muslim immigration, births, and conversion in Europe.

4. EUROPE'S ETHNIC TENSIONS.

Wallander struggles with this strain as well. Inspector Wallander endeavors to blunt the "foreign" identity of the perpetrators, but in a complicated manner in which he pondered, "I really hope that the killers are at the refugee camp. Then maybe it'll put an end to this arbitrary, lax policy that allows anyone at all, for any reason at all, to cross the border into Sweden. But of course he couldn't say that to Rydberg. It was an opinion he intended to keep to himself."

Wallander is no white supremacist. Yes, he wrestles with racism and prejudices. His issues are with the immigration policy, not necessarily the immigrating people. Indeed, no explicit racist would, as Wallander does, put his life on the line to save lives at the refugee camp when it begins to burn.

Our situation might be the same. And Wallander's circumstances gives us an opportunity to reflect on our own condition.

We are all racist, prejudiced, or caught up in this clash of civilizations thought process to some degree. As Nyberg says to Wallander in the BBC version of this story, "everyone deals with [racism]. It just matters what you do with it."

That's the key. We all wrestle with this idea of the clash of civilizations, the transformations and changes that come with immigration and population shift, with prejudice, ethnic tension, and racism. But it matters what we do with it.

The writers at Charlie Hebdo dealt with it by creating caricatures and using snark and satire to be equal opportunity offenders. Others deal with it through religious stereotyping and abject racism. Others take to the streets. Still others take to the polls. Others take up arms. Others write threatening letters.

Still others engage in dialogue, share a meal, build bridges through friendships, and work together to navigate the tension seemingly between Islam and Europe. This is the type of "dealing with it" we need to pursue.

The types of "dealing with it" that we need to denounce is essentializing caricatures, dichotomous rhetoric, religious racism, and violent terror.

Indeed, we must bear in mind that is possible, and fruitful, to condemn both the attacks as well as condemn caricatures, religious stereotyping, and racism.

5. THE STRANGER NEXT DOOR

The "Ariadne's Thread" throughout Faceless Killers is Wallander's daughter's boyfriend...who happens to be a foreigner (in this case, a Kenyan). Mankell personalizes the politically charged storyline of his novel by engaging his character in a "stranger next door" situation. He puts flesh on the issue.

And in doing so, Mankell makes it clear that Wallander's issues are resolved (sort of) through vulnerability, loving compassion, and his willingness to reveal his own deep sense of being flawed. Likewise, Mankell invites us to consider our own society, and ourselves, through Wallander's lens. The challenge he lays out is for us to take our responsibilities as citizens of a global village seriously, not avoiding the sometimes uncomfortable ambiguities of our situation, the unknown possibilities, prejudices, and "future shock" that confront us. The hope is that by personalizing a societal shift we might make incremental improvements and take authentic steps forward toward real renewal and community.

What does that look like? We come back to this crisis of identity, this seeming chasm between European and Islamic worldviews. So much of the rhetorical force of the situations drives us to consider this situation as "us" and "them," the "normal" and the "other."

The first step we must make is to reclaim community in a globalized world. Essentially, to redefine what it means to be European (or Western, or Muslim) in lieu of shifting population patterns. This will require relationship. It is difficult, nigh impossible, to feel a sense of community with abstract ideas and essentialized caricatures of "the other."

Peacemaker Jon Huckins wrote for Relevant magazine, "as ISIS fills the headlines, Islamophobia spreads like the common cold and sound bites trump human interaction, there is no more important time to build friendships with our Muslim neighbors." He gives five reasons, which I will expand on briefly: 1. A cure for fear; 2. An expanded worldview; 3. An antidote to isolationism; 4. Meeting the need for mutual relationship; 5. An understanding of misrepresentation.

Each of these is salient for the present situation. Fear, narrow cosmologies, isolation, loneliness, and misrepresentation are each plaguing the world and exacerbating the problems.

By simply walking across the street, sharing a meal, or befriending the stranger next door we could reverse the rising tides of malignancy, misunderstanding, and marginalization that are more threatening than any increase in Muslims in Europe, North America, or elsewhere.

It means flipping the script from "I'm friends with a Muslim even thought I'm European/Christian/Secular/etc." or "I'm friends with a European/Christian/Secular-Humanist/etc. even though I'm a Muslim" to "I'm friends with a Muslim because I'm European/Christian/Secular-Humanist/etc." and vice versa.

Certainly, there will be difficulties in coming together. There will be moments of frustration and awkwardness and miscommunication. Friendships are no panacea. This is no utopian vision. However, friendship can be a progressive means of fighting the rising tides of militant secularism and violent Islamism that threaten our societies, our world, and our individual lives.

As you wrestle with the harrowing headlines, struggle with your own prejudices, and try to figure out how to respond that you may consider Wallander's narrative as a guide for your own. More than anything, may it lead you deeper into relationship and understanding and away from violence encouraging rhetoric and a dichotomist clash of civilizations worldview that fails to appreciate diversity, hybridity, and the realities of local, intimate, social change.

*For that matter, dig deeper by reading a list of "10 Novels Every U.S. Christian Should Read" (which includes Faceless Killers), the blog "the Problem with American (or Western) Muslims," or "The Lonely Jihadi" to learn more.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood

Religious Beertroversy over Gandhi Bot

January 7, 2015

*This post originally appeared at Faith Goes Pop

Who knew beer cans could be so contentious? There were the PBR cans that make up the Festivus Poles in Deerfield Beach, FL and at the Capitol building in Tallahassee. Now, it's the cans of Gandhi-Bot, a double India Pale Ale (DIPA) from New England Brewing Company.

The cans of the frothy refreshment bear an image of the revered Indian pacifist leader that is robotic in its iconography and apparently highly offensive to some of his advocates in India. It is true that The Mahatma avoided alcohol. As reported by Patch.com, Rajan Zed, leader of the Reno, NV based Universal Society of Hinduism, said, "peace icon Mahatma Gandhi abhorred drinking. Selling beer named after him was highly damaging to his legacy and hurt the feelings of Indo-Americans and Indians." Feelings of anger are so high that a lawsuit was filed in India.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood

Despite the brewing company's apology and claim that this beer was meant to honor the peace maker with its aromatic flavor, vegetarian ingredients, and aim to be "an ideal aid for self-purification and the seeking of truth and love," some Indo-Pak grocers in Connecticut aren't stocking the brew, while some liquor stores refuse to pull it from the shelves.

This is not the first time beer has caused such controversy, nor the first time that religious sensibilities were at play. In 2013 a skirmish was brewing in Asheville, NC at the release of another IPA called "Shiva" -- referring to the popular Hindu deity also known as "the Destroyer" or "the Transformer." In this instance, it was Zed again who found the suds "highly inappropriate."

Of course, religious quaffs are nothing new. Sages across the ages have not only enjoyed a drink or two, but brewed a few (or hundreds) of gallons as well and there are even deities of the sacred draughts. If you were tempted, like I am, to give thanks for the saintly suds from above, you could turn to Silenus, Greek god of beer, or Ninkasi, the Sumerian goddess who slakes the thirst of the world with the fruit of her bounteous hops. Here in the Americas, you could magnify the Mexica deity Tezcatzontecatl, god of drunkenness. Perhaps, with a swig of ale you could proclaim the accolades of Mbaba Mwana Waresa, the Zulu god credited with brewing the first beer in creation.

Ninkasi, Mesopotamian goddess of the brew (we won't hold it against her that she drinks her beer with a straw).

Not ready for a full dive into Brewskianity? Why not try the myriad religious themed brews available on the shelves? There are Catholic beers such as Frankiscaner or Augustiner. There is even an entire style with monkish origins -- the Trappist Ale. The saintly suds of St. Arnold Brewing Co. in Houston, TX are sacrosanct to many as it is the oldest craft brewery in the Bayou City and named after the revered Bishop of Mainz who provided enough beer for all his faithful followers at his funeral.

Protestants may flock to purchase Luther Bier and in the spirit of the great reformer, exclaim, "Whoever drinks beer, he is quick to sleep; whoever sleeps long, does not sin; whoever does not sin, enters Heaven! Thus, let us drink beer!”

For those who honor Ha Shem through strict Kosher diets can turn to Schmaltz Brewery who pump out barrels, kegs, and bottles of "the chosen beers" of He'brews including: Hop Manna IPA, the tempting Origin Pomegranate Ale, and Jewbelation.

The Four Noble Tasters at Funky Buddha Brewery in Ft. Lauderdale, FL.

There are even options for the Buddhist beer enthusiast, although the Buddha guarded against drinking too much ale. In Cambodia you can enjoy a beer named after the Angkor Wat monastery. Closer to home, head on down to Ft. Lauderdale, FL and enjoy some sips from Funky Buddha Brewery who produce the Maple Bacon Coffee Porter or their Missionary Blonde (awkward). Can't decide, get a sampling of a few beers and try the Four Noble Taster like I did over the winter break.

What began as a trickle with Gandhi Bot and Shiva IPA quickly turns into a flood of religiously themed beers. Craft brewing continues to grow in the U.S. and elsewhere (New Zealand, Europe, etc.) and with each new recipe comes the challenge to come up with a unique, catchy, name for the brew. Historically, divinity has never been far from the draughts with multiple cultures appealing to the gods to give thanks for, or ask for blessing on, their beers. With that in mind, I would not be surprised if more cans cause controversy. Indeed, it's happened before with the Mormon community and Wasatch Brewing's Polygamy Porter.

My hope is this -- that individuals and communities that are quick to be offended by religious representations on beer cans and bottles may turn their thoughts away from drunken revelry and instead appreciate the social, and even spiritual, intimations of a potentially pious pint. Perhaps instead of lawsuits and "beertroversies" we can instead sit down and imitate President Barack Obama's "beer diplomacy" and enjoy a cold one as we talk about our religious beliefs, practices, and differences.

Cheers to that.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood

We Live in a World of Buffet-Style Religion: Highlights from SENT Conference

January 5, 2015

Back in July I traveled to Detroit for the Lutheran Hour Ministries Global SENT Outreach Conference where I was invited to speak on the topic of Christian encounters with the world's religions and sundry spiritualities.

I remember a few things from the trip: 1) I loved Detroit, its food/beer culture, its waterfront, and its people; 2) I spent the night in the airport with a guy who talked about Dungeons & Dragons at 2am in the morning (lovely); 3) it gave me an opportunity to share my "theology of religion" with a wider audience.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood.

The conference was organized by Lutheran Hour Ministries who shared in their conference report:

More than 1,000 people gathered on July 24-27 in Detroit, Mich. to hear speakers, musicians, and entertainment...these photos, quotes, and videos tell an abbreviated story of how God worked through the Lutheran Hour Ministries SENT Outreach Conference...

Along with Rev. Gregory Seltz, speaker of the Lutheran Hour, Rev. Dr. John Nunes of Valparaiso University, Rev. Dr. Joel D. Biermann of Concordia Seminary St. Louis, Rev. Dominic Rivkin of LINC Los Angeles, Jon Acuff, Jon Dansby, and others I was included in LHM's Storify highlights.

Reflecting on the feedback provided to me from conference participants and from the Storify, I want to ruminate on the major takeaways from my approach to a "theology of religion." Here goes.

I love this. Why? Because I stole it. Author and interfaith activist Eboo Patel gets all the credit for this one. In his book Sacred Ground: Pluralism, Prejudice, and the Promise of America Patel wrote of the need for us to flip the script in our theology from one of antagonism and conflict to one of affinity and compassion. His quote was in reference to the need for Christians to befriend Muslims. While mine referenced Hindus in this presentation the point is the same -- inspired by Christ's actions in John 4 with the Samaritan woman at the well we must endeavor to befriend the "religious other."

Indeed, we must cease thinking of the "religious other" as "other." Instead, recognizing the imago Dei -- image of God -- within each of us, we must see others as part of the same human story, unique in their formation, important in God's creation. In the words of Lesslie Newbigin, it is recognizing that "no human life can be rightly understood apart from the whole story of which each life-story is a part." This posture can lead to mutual understanding, bonds of friendship and solidarity, and common efforts toward peace.

Of course, this can, and will, be hard. Why?

People often ask me what the fastest growing religion in the U.S. is. Is it Islam? Mormonism? Evangelicalism? Which "-ism" is it Ken?

It's Me-ism.

Due to forces of individualization, "normal nihilism," and a general belief in the supernatural and the importance of the spiritual we are all on our own spiritual journeys, mixing-and-matching our religious sentiments like patrons at a Sizzler buffet.

Because, as Paul W. Robinson wrote, “the assumptions, attitudes, & understandings that lead to the practice of mix-and-match religion surround us" we tend to pick-and-choose what we like, and what we want, from each and every religion and/or spirituality. A little bit of Hindu meditation? Sure. Some Buddhist prayer beads? Heck yeah! Christianity's Jesus? Bring it on. Sufi poetry for meditation? Two helpings please!

While I make light, the truth is that it is difficult to navigate the religious landscape we encounter because it is so stunningly diverse. Not only do we live in a pluralistic context outside of us, but we also wrestle with pluralist tendencies and tensions within our own spiritual journey as we choose between various spiritual perspectives, orthodoxies, heresies, and practices delivered to us on websites, podcasts, apps, sermons, and publications.

Despite the stunning diversity, our challenge remains the same. Again, Patel wrote, "The question is how to have a vertical relationship with one’s own understanding of the divine and a horizontal relationship with the diversity of the world." We must not only ascribe to truth as we know it, but be comfortable enough with a plurality of truth-claims to hold peaceable conversations with others and together work toward the resolution of conflict and the blessing of our communities.

Although we may struggle with our own journey and others cannot quite explain their "spiritual-but-not-religious" perspective, we must still lean into these relationships with mercy, truth, love, patience, and grace.

The U.S. is suffering from a case of multi-generational and multi-cultural religious illiteracy —what Stephen Prothero calls, “religious amnesia.” The United States, in spite of its established secularism, is a thoroughly pluralistic nation with robust expressions of myriad world religions everywhere from the wheat fields of Iowa to the buckled asphalt of Los Angeles. Yet, we are simultaneously “a nation of religious illiterates” who flunk the most basic of quizzes on religion — even our own.

To the rescue come “world religion Bible studies” that attempt to help Christians navigate their world’s stunning religious pluralism. The problem is, most “world religion Bible studies” are terrible.

While most of the leaders of these studies start with the intention to help their parishioners learn more about the world’s religions, the way they go about it usually leads to nominally increased religious literacy. Even worse, these studies often exacerbate pre-existing prejudices or presuppositions about studied worldviews.

Instead of informed, generous, and balanced studies most devolve into bullhorn-style, biased, polemic, opinion-infused and horribly misinformed misadventures into religions and worldviews.

Still, there is a need for Christians, and others, to study the world's religions -- to listen and learn, to dialogue, to work together, to dine with one another, and build bridges of understanding, friendship, and common cause.

These are the highlights that LHM shared. There was other feedback as well and I could spend days writing about it, but if you want to dig deeper into my "theology of religion" and the approach I advocate for Christians to take toward other religions and worldviews please take the time to read, and respond to, my recent paper, "Building Bridges: Toward Constructing a Christian Foundation for Inter-Religious Relationships in the Shift from Religious Privilege to Spiritual Plurality."

I want to thank LHM again for inviting me to come and speak. I pray that this conversation is both compassionate and constructive, building upon the church's theological foundations to construct a common path toward reconciliation and peace-making in the world today.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood.

Islam, relevance, & whiskey: What we talked about in religion & culture in 2014

December 24, 2014

This year was a BIG year. Not only did KenChitwood.com launch, it launched well and opened up new doors for speaking throughout the U.S., being featured on radio and podcasts, & even some TV spots. Thanks friends.

It was also a BIG year because of what we talked about, meditated on, and concerned ourselves with.

It was a wide ranging year as I covered everything from stripper spirituality to "reefer religion," from a Coke Can Nativity to bumper sticker faith statements. At each turn, the goal was to watch out for the intersection of religion & culture and think about it, comment on it, and submit it for your response and discussion. Thank you for sharing in this endeavor.

*Read Ken's "Year in Religion Awards" post for 2014

As much as I enjoy teaching about religion and utilizing this blog as a platform to do so, I enjoy learning about religion and culture even more. To that end, you taught me much. Some of you sent me direct tips or stories to talk about, others I interviewed about their own books (Loaded Words: Freeing 12 Hard Bible Words from their Baggage or Being Both: Embracing Two Religions in One Interfaith Family).

However, all of you taught me something when it comes to what we need to talk more about in the coming year. How do I know this? The top posts are telling.

By far, the vast majority of us were interested in Islam, which is my primary field of interest. One of this year's top stories across the media board was ISIS and its reign of terror in Syria and Iraq. As you watched with horror the images flooding your home page you turned to this blog to learn about five facts everyone needs to know about ISIS & Iraq, you wondered with me if ISIS = Islam. We explored the reasons why Westerners join the ranks of groups such as ISIS and we all paid attention that one time I talked with an ISIS supporter on Twitter (FYI, the dialogue has since been removed from Twitter, the only copy of it is here on the site).

Throughout this process, we also critiqued our own view of Muslims and thought out the problematic roles we cast Muslims in without asking them what it means to "be Muslim" and more importantly, what it means to be an "American Muslim." As I continue to learn about Islam and Muslims I will endeavor to share my perspective on Islam and politics, Muslim identity, and the most pressing issues on our hearts and minds when it comes to the global umma (Muslim community). Stay tuned for posts in 2015 about alternate Islamic politics, addressing difficult passages in the Qur'an, and more discussion of Muslims in the West.

On a lighter note, you enjoyed posts of a completely different flavor. You clicked away on a story about the role of whiskey and religion in the vote for Scottish independence and you went crazy over the witty autobiography of an Apostolic Pentecostal fashionista (a guest post by colleague Megan Geiger). There will be more fun to come in 2015 and also new guest posts from experts in the field of religion & culture.

Of course, this blog is not only about religion and culture, it's also about theology. Surely, it is a dissonant and prophetic Lutheran theology, a perspective "without borders" and admittedly progressive, but you resonated with a couple posts in particular that speak to the Christian Church's contemporary context in the U.S. Particularly, you were interested in the "Confessions of a Millennial Church Curmudgeon" and you connected with my post, "Don't Leave Your Church." Some of you found that last blog encouraging, others challenging. Either way, it sparked a conversation. As far as conversations go, one of the most important is the discussion surrounding Ferguson and #BlackLivesMatter. My post on Black Jesus and associating with religion & race on the margins touched a nerve. For that I am pleased and proud. It's good to be talking about these things and thus, in the year ahead, we will be talking more about Millennial ministry and the way(s) in which the Church needs to adapt given its current state of decline & increasing irrelevance, while the world is desperately in need of our prophetic voice and compassionate action (read Advent to Action).

Related to this last point is the need to navigate the shift from one of religious privilege to one of religious plurality. As a student of religion and a Christian theologian I am honored and excited to ride the tension between pluralism and confessional Christianity. You found this interplay enticing as well when you read and shared "Five Steps to a Friendly Encounter with the Religious 'Other'" (even LC-MS President Matthew Harrison shared the blog!), reacted to my intentionally galvanizing "Why World Religions Bible Studies are Awful," encouraged me in my pursuit of "The Most (Ir)Relevant Field of Study." This pursuit is of paramount importance in our current age. I recently published an article on this very topic and will be speaking about it, and the general topic, twice in 2015. Expect continued posts here as well, for as I often repeated the Christian's friendly study of the world's religions is a most sacred duty (nod to Gandhi for that quote).

Thank you again for your readership this year. The blog made a big splash in its first few months and I expect 2015 will be a BIG year of growth as I release an e-book and start work on two books -- one entitled Belief on the Bayou: Exploring the Future of American Religion in its Most Diverse City and the other a project with Read the Spirit publishers through my "Faith Goes Pop" blog where I write specifically on religion and popular culture.

More importantly, right here at KenChitwood.com, we will continue to talk about religion, culture, and theology covering topics such as Islam, religion and popular culture, spirituality in America, church ministry, and missiology.

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year. Be sure to subscribe to the blog's religion & culture e-mail news (for exclusive content and weekly updates) or follow me on Twitter -- @kchitwood -- for more.

-Ken

What the heck are Chrismons?

December 23, 2014

Vintage Christmas style is in these days. From old style Christmas cards to ugly Christmas sweater parties to the retro-chic look of a “winter” (or Advent) beard, this year’s festal season is in many ways a throw back to holidays past. If you want your tree to harken back to the nifty-fifties, then your best bet might be to add a gold and white Chrismon decoration.

Yeah, that’s right…a Chrismon.

What’s a Chrismon you ask?

The word Chrismon is derived from the words “Christ Monograms.” They are symbols representing the life, the ministry and the meaning of Jesus Christ. They are used to decorate Christmas trees and Christian homes during the holidays and along with being white and gold, they are often decorated with beads, ribbons and glitter.

*For more #FaithGoesPop follow @kchitwood

While these golden ornaments may not be in high demand for the majority of holiday revelers this Christmas, they are still found in Methodist and Lutheran churches throughout the United States.

Chrismons take many shapes and forms. From an anchor to a pomegranate, these symbols have been used by Christians for centuries to communicate theology, designate Christian meeting places in times of persecution, and identify individuals as Christian.

The modern tradition of hanging Chrismons was started by Frances K. Spencer at Lutheran Church of the Ascension in Danville, Virginia in 1957. Since then the practice has spread across the United States.

Talking to Gretchen Roberts of the Lutheran Witness, Rev. Dr. David Eberhard, pastor of the Historic Trinity church in Detroit said, “You’ve heard a picture is worth a thousand words. Nike has a swoosh; Ford’s blue oval is instantly recognizable. Our Christian symbols tell a story and reinforce the proclaimed Word. They are a visual statement of who we are as God’s people.”

However, a lot of the meaning of these symbols has been lost in contemporary Christmas culture.

At Memorial Lutheran Church in Katy, where I worked for a few years, the congregation went through a series of Advent devotionals based on the Chrismon symbols. Accompanying the sermon series there was a daily devotional highlighting a different Chrismon each day. Asked about the devotionals and learning the meaning of the Chrismons parishioner Mary Weis said she was enjoying the devotionals.

“I sat down to read one and found myself skipping ahead” she said, “I ended up finishing the devotional in one night, it was so interesting to learn the meaning of the symbols, it gives visual reference for my faith.”

Christmas, and its seasonal siblings – Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice and even Festivus – are meaningful holidays with religious and sociological importance. Icons and signs like Chrismons add special symbolic significance to these holidays. As was reported in my previous post on secular holiday symbols, Adele Nozedar said "the use of a simple symbol...says far more than any wordy explanation ever could." She continued, "Signs and symbols, our invention of them and understanding of them, transcend the barriers of written language and are the very heart of our existence as human beings."

Symbols, like the Chrismons, help us make sense of the season, interpret our own identity, and even understand the cosmos itself.

Perhaps this year you can take a moment to learn more about Chrismons and their meaning, or even make a few of your own as a family project. Here is just a sampling of some of the Chrismons and their significance:

Bronze snake and tau – harkening back to an Old Testament story (Numbers 21:9) it points to the coming of Jesus Christ who would be “lifted up” for the life of his people (John 3:14).

Pomegranate – This Mediterranean fruit is a symbol of the church, its seeds representing the people who are full of potential to bear much fruit (Matthew 7:17-18).

Chi Rho – This is easily one of the most recognizable symbols of Christianity and is literally a “monogram of Christ.” The first two letters of the Greek word for “Messiah,” “Anointed One,” or “Christ” are chi (x) and rho(p). Put together they form this symbol of Jesus Christ. In the image above there are two additional symbols - the Alpha and Omega - signaling that Jesus Christ is the first and the last (alpha being the first letter of the Greek alphabet, omega the final), at creation and at judgment day in the Christian tradition. The "X" in X-mas is derived from the chi in chi rho. While many believe the "X" is secular, it is derived from ancient Christian symbology.

*For more #FaithGoesPop follow @kchitwood