Jesus on a High (flash fiction)

Painting by Jose Luis Castrillo

By Moristotle

“Religion is the opium of the people.” —Karl Marx

Pastor Greg wanted a church.
    A stranger came calling. “The lord wants you. He will fund construction and provide staff.”
    Pastor Greg gave praise. The church was built, and he went to work.
    A bigger church was constructed, the first one sold quickly, and Pastor Greg stepped up, ecstatic to follow his calling.
    He thought the ushers were joking about “laundry bags.”
    The cartel boss marveled that Pastor Greg was as high as the users of his cocaine, heroin, and meth. He hoped they didn’t hear about the pastor’s religion thing.

Copyright © 2023 by Moristotle

Religion and Family Strife

Love Must Overcome

By Dawn Story Burke

[Editor’s Note: My niece wrote this compassionate essay for our Thor’s Day column a bit over ten years ago, on April 4, 2013, and its subject matter seemed pertinent to this Easter time of our current year.]

Last week, I got to emailing with an aunt, an uncle, and a cousin about going to church on Easter. Or, more specifically, about going to church without one’s spouse.

From “The Scratching Post”: Entertain me, dammit!

By Ken Marks

[Opening from the original on The Scratching Post, February 25, 2023, published here by permission of the author.]

It seems likely that entertainment and religion were once inextricably linked. Furthermore, the priest, the poet, and the chanter were likely one and the same person. Chanters would in time become what we recognize as singers. They added a musical accompaniment, at first only percussion. Then ritual dance joined in. These enhancements made the bond between entertainment and religion even stronger.
    At some point, we realized that worship must engage eyes as well as ears. The visual arts were needed to give shape and color to shrines and representations of the divine. This was yet another form of entertainment. It had the mark of all that we call entertaining: the power to command our notice, evoke emotion, and give us an inexplicable sense of enrichment.
    It was comedy that first made us think of entertainment as an independent phenomenon. There is nothing funny about religion. To laugh, someone’s dignity has to be punctured. It’s a minimum requirement. We can’t have gods tripping on banana peels, but if a proud hunter catches a spear in his ass, that might be hilarious. We noticed as well the artistic similarity between a heroic narrative and a comedic narrative. The droll story became an art form unto itself.

    Entertainment evolved further when we realized how much in love we were with ourselves. Our flaws had given birth to tragedy and comedy. Might our opposite qualities, excellence of the mind and body, also be entertaining? Yes, in fact. Watching a savant compute the cube root of 53,582,633 or recall the box score of a baseball game on a given date makes us gasp at the magic of the mind. Watching jugglers and acrobats at work or a running back breaking tackle after tackle has a similar awe-inspiring effect. We love being amazed by ourselves….

[Read the whole thing on The Scratching Post.]

Copyright © 2023 by Ken Marks Ken Marks was a contributing editor with Paul Clark & Tom Lowe when “Moristotle” became “Moristotle & Co.” A brilliant photographer, witty conversationalist, and elegant writer, Ken contributed photographs, essays, and commentaries from mid-2008 through 2012. Late in 2013, Ken birthed the blog The Scratching Post. He also posts albums of his photos on Flickr.

Love your enemies deciphered in quartina

Click to enlarge

10 Years Ago Today

By Moristotle

[Published originally on November 29, 2012.]

According to the Gospel of Matthew (5:44, King James Version), Jesus said:

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.

​Planning on dying? [9 Years Ago Today]

Face the question and move on

[Published originally on July 25, 2013, 9 years more timely now than it was then.]

By Moristotle

My wife and I are [were] planning to go on a big trip with a friend next year and, because I genuinely don’t think I will ever want to do it again, I remarked, “It will be our last such trip.”

Goines On: Who’s minding?

Click image for more vignettes

[An adaptation, with updated ending, of “Thor's Day: Wrong number,” July 18, 2013]

The Goineses were at their dining table when Mrs. Goines’ phone rang. She answered it. Whoever it was, she didn’t recognize them. “You have the wrong number ... That’s okay. No problem.”
    Her phone rang again within seconds. Goines waited to see what Mrs. Goines would do.
    Without speaking, she hung up.

Want to Know Who Set the Tablefor the Big Lie?

Go Look in a Mirror

By Paul Clark
(aka motomynd)

Even though I’m 67 years old, fairly world-wise and extremely well-traveled, it wasn’t until five years ago – when my son was almost two years old – that I fully realized that a shocking number of people are innately and almost maniacally dishonest. I had always noted that many people – including “good” people, and definitely not just “bad” people – routinely used exaggeration, partials truths and “white” lies in their normal conversation with me, but it wasn’t until I saw them blatantly lying to my toddler-age son that the point hit home.

What if basketball games weren’t won or lost?

By Moristotle

[Originally published 12 years ago, on December 30, 2009]

We’re going to a Tar Heels men’s basketball game tonight. I know, for those of you aware of my attitude toward spectator sports, it isn’t possible that I’m going. Nevertheless, my wife and I are going; we want to spend as much time with our daughter and son-in-law as possible and they told us before they came to visit that they would like to go if I could get tickets.

Two ways of looking at the chicken in the egg

By Moristotle

[Originally published on Thor’s Day December 20, 2012.

    This republication is dedicated to Dr. Nortin M. Hadler and all other Scientific Americans, whether or not they are members of the Sigma Xi Scientific Research Honor Society.]

The following science story came to my attention this morning [9 years ago]:

Withholding yourself

15 years later,
still instructive

By Moristotle

[Originally published on December 16, 2006, without an image and in the default font of the time.]

In Colm Tóibín’s novel, The Master, Henry James is visiting his old friend, the wealthy Paul Bourget, an “unpleasantly rigid and authoritarian” anti-Semite:

Henry did everything he could, in the early days of his stay, not to discuss Zola or the Dreyfus case with Paul or Minnie Bourget or their guest, feeling that his own views on the matter would diverge from those of his hosts. His support for Zola and, indeed, for Dreyfus was sufficiently strong not to wish to hear the Bourgets’ prejudices on the matter.

11 Years Ago Today: Spiritual jocularity

By Moristotle

[Originally published on October 22, 2010.]

Mert really does sound almost exactly like Charlie Thomas. He called again yesterday, to thank me. He and his friend have reconnected by telephone and he is happy.
    “Morris,” he said, “do you believe that the Good Lord works in mysterious ways?”
    “No, Mert, I don’t believe any of that.”
    Even though [Mert] then said, “Ha! I don’t believe that!,” it’s true. I don’t believe it.

But Mert’s question made me realize that the texture of Wednesday (and of much of the next two days—and perhaps of today again) is in some ways similar to that of the days of my Youie Summer (1989). But with one saving, essential difference.
    In 1989, I believed that the things that were happening were “signs from UIE,” or Universal Intelligent Energy¹ (pronounced YOU-ie [“or YAH-weh?” my son suggested], and aka “God”). Now, I don’t believe that; now, I can just “be spiritual” naturally (if my friend Bill is right in labeling me so; perhaps it just means that I’m able to accept things as they are, and laugh about them) without any supernatural entities clothed by magical thinking.
    I liked to say “Praise Youie!” If I were to say it now, it would be ironically, and also perhaps a bit self-reverently, out of charity for the sad, manic person I was that summer.
    But in not very long, it won’t make any difference what I was then or what I am now. Or any of us after we’ve been dead a while.
_______________

1. In late spring of 1989, I had been reading Stephen Hawking’s Brief History of Time, in which he of course referred to Einstein’s famous equation. Let the following excerpt from Victor Stenger’s God: The Failed Hypothesis (which is included in Hitchens’s Portable Atheist) serve to make the connection:

   ...in his special theory of relativity published in 1905, Albert Einstein showed that matter can be created out of energy and can disappear into energy. What all science writers call “Einstein’s famous equation,” E=mc², relates the mass m of a body to an equivalent rest energy, E, where e is a universal constant, the speed of light in a vacuum. That is, a body at rest still contains energy.

11 Years Ago Today: Oh, where are you, Charlie Thomas?

By Moristotle

[Originally published on October 21, 2010.]

Yesterday was one of those days when everything just felt wonderful and right and I was on a continual glorious ride of love and laughter and play. Everything clicking, to-do items getting checked off at a good clip. Not possible (I don’t think) to identify the reason or reasons for it. Just go with it and glory in it, enjoy.
    Much of the feeling remains, and I’ve laughed a lot today, too, despite having had to concentrate intensely much of the day on an editing task.
    But I do remember a few of yesterday’s highlights:

• About 8:30, my boss emailed the members of his department to please attend a brief meeting at 11:45. A few of us buzzed about a bit what might be up. I enjoyed asking two or three colleagues, “You’re near the center of the inner circle; what do you think’s going to be announced?” Of course, no one knew for sure. Meeting my boss himself in the stairwell, I asked him, “So, what are you going to announce at 11:45?” He smiled in his utterly boyish way. “Now, what could it be? Maybe someone in the department got arrested? Or won the Nobel prize? Or maybe...someones retiring?” He has worked hard and produced so much of late; we were all glad for him upon hearing the announcement.
• A little later my neighbor friend Bill telephoned with the news, “I got the job.” He’d not been regularly employed for many months. Bill and I go for walks and talks occasionally. He thinks that even though I’m not religious, I’m “spiritual.”
  

• My nephew whose three fine novels we tried to find a publisher for a few years ago emailed me that he was reworking his first one and would I like to help him prepare it for Amazon’s Kindle format? I replied, “I’d love to be involved with your publishing project, and I’m honored to be consulted.”
• When for exercise I was delivering to a friend an envelope from the mail room, I told her I recognized the name of the sender, an intern who’d worked in her office. “What a fine young man,” she said. “In his third year in law school, about to go intern for a judge.” I told her I’d actually been thinking about him, wondering whether he and another intern, with whom I had worked, were still....“Oh, yes,” my friend said, “wedding bells soon, I think.”
• After standing at my bus stop for 25 minutes after work and beginning to wonder whether I was going to have to telephone the commute van’s driver to please come pick me up (never been done before), an express bus that’s not supposed to service my stop (I’d not even attempted to flag it down) did stop for me. I told the driver, “I so appreciate your kind heart!”

So many nice things happened, I’m sorry that I waited too long to remember them all. But I do remember one more, the most jocular one of all.

Around two-thirty, I answered my phone and the voice sounded familiar, if perhaps a little older than the last time I’d heard it. “I just called the first person I was able to find at UNC.”
    Of course, my old IBM colleague Charlie would have lost my telephone number and would need to search a website or something to locate me. The wonder was that he could remember where I worked.
    “Charlie,” I said, “how wonderful to hear your voice!”
    “Charlie?” he said.
    “Yes, Charlie,” I said. “It’s you! And it’s so good of you to call. How long has it been? Two years, three? How are you?”
    “This isn’t Charlie,” he said.
    “Of course it is! You sound just like you!”
    “No, really.”
    “Are you sure?” I said. “The last time we talked, Charlie, you said you were getting Alzheimer’s. Are you finally to the point you don’t remember who you are?”
    “You don’t have to have Alzheimer’s,” he said. “But I’m not Charlie.”
    “Well,” I said, “okay. Then, who are you?”
    It was a complete stranger, calling from Pennsylvania. He said his name was Mert, which I guessed was short for Merton. He was trying to get in touch with an “old Army buddy,” who he thought might have gone on to be a professor of geology at the University of North Carolina.
    I took the particulars and promised to help find his old friend, if he could be found. I told him that Charlie, the last time I’d spoken with him, was herding Alpacas in a town in Ohio, next door to Pennsylvania. I told Mert that Charlie was about the same age as him and the friend he was trying to find – around seventy-five.
    “How old are you?” said Mert.
    I told him.
    “I didn’t think you were a young guy. Most young people, you ask them for help, they don’t want to spend more than a minute with you. Anytime I ask a young person for help, I get a geography lesson. None of them is willing to help you to the end result.”

Before nine o’clock this morning, I had a telephone call from Mert’s geologist. The secretary of the Carolina Geological Society, whom I’d emailed, had called him last night.
    It had been fifty years since the geologist and the man from Pennsylvania served together in the U.S. Army. The geologist thought he recognized Mert’s last name, but he thought his first name might be Mervin rather than Merton.
    On the van ride home yesterday, I enjoyed telling Donna and Ina about “Mert’s” call, and about my whackiness about Charlie Thomas’s Alzheimer’s. Today, I enjoyed telling them that I’ve already found Mert’s old friend.
    The van arrived at the Lowes Foods parking lot, where my wife and Siegfried waited for me, in our only car until we take delivery of our new Volvo. I said to today’s van driver, “Hope, thank you very much. You are the best driver in the fleet.”
    A few of the others looked at me. “I mean, besides Chris and Melanie, of course!”
    General laughter. “Hey, I’m ‘crazy.’ It’s fun.”
    Donna said, “We who have admitted we’re ‘crazy’ are on the road to recovery.”
    What a day! Another one.

14 Years Ago Next Week: Monday Musings

I took this photo in the gardens
of the Rodin Museum in Paris
on April 27, 2016

By Moristotle

[Originally published on January 29, 2007, without an image.]

The other day I had occasion to share with someone something that I have thought for many years:

God [if God exists] can communicate with us any damn way God pleases [that is, through the Bible, the Quran..., the angelic kindness of a stranger...]

No Country for Young Children

Not for My Son, Anyway

By Paul Clark (aka motomynd)

Living where we do in Virginia, we are surrounded by Trumpists. Trump won about 85% of the land area of Virginia. Biden won three counties west of Richmond: ours wasn’t one of them. Across Virginia and the country the lines seem more firmly drawn than ever: overall, Democrats win with higher income, more educated voters; Republicans win with less-educated, lower-income voters, the main exceptions being elite rich white people and disadvantaged urban black voters. [See the Newsweek article, “Trump Counties Make Up Just 29 Percent of U.S. Economic Output, 2020 Election Study Shows.”]

13 Years Ago Today: All in or All out

By Moristotle

[Originally published on September 9, 2007.]

I have talked approvingly of what I understood to be Søren Kierkegaard’s view, on the question of belief in God, that it was nobler (as well as more accurate) to hang with one hand from one ledge of the narrow chasm of religious belief and with the other hand from the opposite ledge than to transfer either hand to join the other on the same ledge. Hanging precariously from both ledges symbolized doubt. Kierkegaard thought doubt nobler because it consigned the doubter to the perpetual angst of his uncertainty whether to believe or not to believe, since, as a matter of accuracy, the person could not be objectively sure which belief was right.

Nine Years Ago Today: Science vs. religion

David Deutsch

A battle of the memes

By Moristotle

[First published on August 26, 2011.]

A book you might like to read: The Beginning of Infinity: Explanations That Transform the World, by David Deutsch (illustrated. 487 pp. Viking. $30—or borrow it from your local university library).

Goines On: Sinning

Click image for more vignettes

A niece of Goines emailed him that she wished they hadn’t made the vicar in the new season of Grantchester “quite so weak sinfully.” Goines and his wife hadn’t watched it yet, but they decided to catch it that evening. And when he told her what his niece had complained of, Mrs. Goines told him what the first vicar she had ever heard had to say about churches. Goines realized instantly that this was the stuff limericks are made of:

The Loneliest Liberal:Putting reality TV aside

By James Knudsen

Before 2018 officially ended, I found myself writing a play, just sorta happened. It remains a work in progress, but how I wound up writing a play – which at the moment is still just a conversation between God (he's a she) and President Donald J. Trump – is something I’m still processing.

Six Years Ago Today: Let’s talk turkey

By Tom Lowe
(1945-2014)

[Originally published on November 22, 2012. Corrected a typo.]

Turkey Day was how I thought of Thanksgiving when I was young. The odor of the bird roasting, helping prepare the homemade dressing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and yams. Our family was spread out over most of the West, so the scene is just my parents and myself. It was the next day that I really waited for – turkey sandwiches, really pretty simple: bread, mayonnaise, and meat.

Ten Years Ago Today: Realism...or magical optimism?

By Moristotle

[Originally published on September 24, 2008, without the image.]

This morning [ten years ago] I read in the New York Times a very short op-ed piece, “The Power of Negative Thinking,” by Barbara Ehrenreich. Ms. Ehrenreich assails the pie-in-the-sky optimism that I myself subscribed to for many years:

As promoted by Oprah Winfrey, scores of megachurch pastors and an endless flow of self-help best sellers, the idea is to firmly believe that you will get what you want, not only because it will make you feel better to do so, but because “visualizing” something — ardently and with concentration — actually makes it happen.