Columns
Nonviolent civil disobedience has been a less effective tactic in this country in the past few decades for a variety of reasons, the most important of which is probably that our woes are more complicated than in an earlier age. If there’s an exception to this rule, it's the issue I've spent much of my life working on: climate change.
True, climate change is rooted in complex science, but at this point the mechanisms are pretty clear: Burn fossil fuel and wreck the planet. It carries a strong moral edge: The people who burn the least suffer the most. And there are a series of relatively obvious villains: oil and coal barons, who not only profit from the carbon but use their proceeds to foul the debate with endless propaganda.
Since campaigners have in many cases changed their own lives, and tried for two decades the obvious tactics, such as legislative advocacy, without result, maybe the time has come to heighten the stakes, with mass action at the most obvious sites, from coal-fired power plants to corporate headquarters and congressional offices. Indeed, brave people have already begun: More than 100 were arrested, for instance, in a recent D.C. protest about mountaintop removal coal mining.
But using this tactic effectively will require some other changes.
Jan. 20, 2011, marks the 50th anniversary of the inauguration of President John F. Kennedy, our nation's first (and still only) Roman Catholic head of state. At the time, Kennedy's Catholicism was a matter of great public debate and, in some quarters, great alarm.
What did it mean to the presidency to have a "papist" sitting in the Oval Office? Would his first allegiance be to the pope rather than the American people? Collective hand-wringing ensued. But no one doubted whether Kennedy was what he said he was: a Catholic.
Half a century later, interest in the president’s spirituality has not waned. The religious predilections of our current president, Barack Obama, the nation’s first African-American president—and the only U.S. commander in chief to have familial ties, however tenuous and nominal they may be, to the Islamic tradition—is perpetual fodder for heated debates in the public square.
But something has changed since Hatless Jack took the oath of office. Today, some don't believe the president when he says what he believes about God. It is a troubling progression.
Nearly seven years ago, I sat down with Obama, then a young state senator running for national office for the first time, for a lengthy interview about his faith. When my "spiritual profile" of Obama ran in the Chicago Sun-Times, it was greeted with modest interest, mostly for the novelty of a Democratic candidate speaking at length about religion. To date, that interview remains the most exhaustive Obama has granted publicly about his faith.
Not to brag, but my new toilet was rated Best Flush for 2010. I don't know if this reflects its intrinsic design superiority or if the manufacturer was simply teaching to the test, but it does recall the original slogan of George W. Bush's education initiative: "No Child Left Behind; Check the Bathrooms." (It was supposed to be a reminder to school bus drivers, but Congress broadened it considerably.)
Regardless, my new toilet has three times the standard flush power, which means the user should not remain seated when the flushing process is initiated, unless that person's effects are in order and power of attorney established.
This is just one of the features of our new quarter-bath downstairs, the construction of which was my attempt to stimulate the weak economy while providing a place for me to use in the coming years when I become too frail to make it to my secret place in the back yard.
A quarter-bath, a home improvement concept of my own invention, is like a half-bath, only smaller, by half. There's space for a sink, a toilet, and a small person not wearing bulky clothing. Definitely a summer destination. There is room to sit, but not room to flail your arms emotionally after being denied use of the larger bathroom because family members, citing overcrowding, threatened to call the fire marshal.
Having successfully survived a mid-life crisis -- mainly by living past mid-life -- I felt it was finally time to sell my Harley, the vehicle I procured a few years back to counter the feelings of insecurity that come with aging.
In February 2009, I attended a conference in Egypt taught by Arab Christians from throughout the Middle East.
When the forces of intolerance rear their ugly heads, the forces of inclusion go into action.
The summer's weather can safely be described as biblical, in the sense that newspaper writers generally use the word -- that is, loud, scary, and dangerous.
My 5-year-old granddaughter lost her battle with cancer. We returned from a family vacation, where Ava was her usual playful, exuberant self, and the next day she complained of a headache.
After more than 200 years of constitutional democracy, it may be time to try something completely different.
President Obama announced at the end of August that "the American combat mission in Iraq has ended." Watching the speech and listening to the commentary, I was gripped by a deep sadness.
For more than 15 years, I didn't go to church (except for lots of visits in my professional capacity). When I was in my early 20s, the Episcopal church I attended regularly split.
"For God so loved the world ..." Lately John 3:16 won't leave me alone. It hovers above my shoulder as I read The Washington Post. Really, God? You love this world?