POST-LOGOCENTRISM: BUDDHIST-CHRISTIAN DIALOG

How to begin Buddhist-Christian dialog? Get the Buddhists to begin a lecture series on Mindfulness. Then offer fellowship workshops (with coffee and desserts, of course) in which Christians write short tracts about the Mindfulness displayed by Jesus; and of course, compose some catchy hymns in which everyone sits in meditation-pose singing with arms waving overhead.

Seriously, a theological middle ground (sounds like Buddha's "middle way"!) can be sought with Christian theologian Paul Tillich's God as the "ground of being," which is the very description sometimes given of Buddha; and the writings of Christian monk-scholar Thomas Merton ( lived at Gethsemane monastery in Kentucky), who was influenced by Zen.

Rather chilly Buddhism needs more of the personalization of the deity through the life of Jesus offered by Christian thought; and Christian thought needs to move beyond the anthropomorphic notion that God is like a rather removed, unknown, egotistical father residing somewhere else playing chess with the world, and whose moves can be influenced by prayer. There are lots of examples of Christian mysticism through more than a millennium that can be used as textual examples of that which the sacred writings point.

In contrast, every time I go to a Christian service (last attendance was Easter Sunday) I find it terribly distracting with words, words, words. So, Christians could learn that the logocentricism of Christian praxis (scripture, sermons, hymns, Christian witness, etc.) does not get anywhere near the great Reality we all live within. Church services are more entertainment and stimulus (for the mind and emotions) than "worship" service. That takes stopping the words. It takes Mindfulness. Perhaps the Mindfulness of Jesus.

PARTICIPANTS IN THE ULTIMATE BIG DANCE

It seems to me that the empirical naturalists (other names can be assigned, but it is a hyper-rationality that posits that only what can be "seen," or measured scientifically, i.e., the physical universe, is the sum total of existence)--the best known are Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, and Christopher Hitchens, all of whom I disagree with, but admire, especially Hitches, who is now dying of cancer--persist in seeing the universe from the viewpoint of Enlightenment and Cartesian epistemology, in which the universe is "only" a structure, something like a machine (the "clockwork universe"), an object that is removed and independent from our interpretation of it. Twentieth-century science has now shown, I believe, that "reality" does not exist outside our interpretation and, importantly, involvement in it. Even rational empiricism is an interpretation (that truth can be known only through rationality).

From my view, "meaning" itself is the ultimate "meaning" of the universe, contra the empirical naturalists. This brings up the epistemological question, of course, of how to determine meaning. If one starts from the position of the universe as an organic whole, one in which humans are not removed, in which we are an dependent, organic part, in which we are not removed from creating its meaning--then, other metaphorical meaning-positions can be entertained, such as the universe as a song or dance in which we are involved, in which we participate as existential lyricists and choreographers.

Elsewhere I have written of the "Terpsichorean Universe" (my term), in which we are moving in intimate pas de deux with the Universe: the song-and-dance of the Universe is my (and your) created, embodied, Ultimate Meaning. We can sit on the side watching (and measuring!) the Big Dance and pretend we are not part of the event, or we can consciously jump into it and coordinate our bootie gyrations, both metaphysical and actual, with the reality in which we are partners in creating.

From my view presented above, perhaps the best theological statement re the biggest of questions is encapsulated in the title and lyrics of the jazz tune "It Don't Mean a Thing (If It Ain't Got that Swing)"--the universe has no meaning (at least any I can relate to), if it has no swing or meaning, like a song and/or dance in which we partner.

If the empirical naturalists do not hear the Tune, then theirs seems an impoverished view. My Universe is not so insipid. We do not have to ask, "May I have this Dance?" We are already in it.

THEOLOGY OF THE DAMNED

The usual calculus for industrial efficiency leaves out the "externalities" such as hidden environmental costs--to human health, local and global ecosystems, and to other productive enterprises.

How efficient is a coal-fired power plant if the total gamut of costs is excluded? Costs such as the ecological destruction to the strip-mined areas and to lives of the people living there; acidification of lakes and streams, with loss of fish stocks and recreation; acid-rain damage to forests and crops; the increase in lung ailments (such as lung cancer, emphysema, and asthma); and additions to the build-up of greenhouse gases which is altering global climate and which will cause unfathomable human and ecological disruption and costs?

The true costs of using my computer and the light bulb above it are not solely the bill I pay to the power company. Economic costs to the producer and the monetary costs to the user are not the whole picture of accrued costs.

So-called "efficiency" depends on how it is measured, for whom, and why.

It seems to me that part of the spiritual crisis in America is not comprehending our impact upon the Earth. To the extent that we think it is somehow godly or biblical, and make it part of of our theology, to willingly, gladly, participate in a system that has as its very basis the destruction of Creation seems terribly wrong. It is a theology of (over)production and (over)consumption--and Earth be damned.