“I’m Sorry You Weren’t Saved in the Rapture.”

Thus reads the official blog for Judgment Day 2011. The automated blog post was intended to be an “I told you so” to survivors of Judgment Day and an attempt to have us left behind find our way to Jesus and save our souls before the second wave hits.

While Harold Camping, the retired civil engineer turned prophet, still has not officially emerged from seclusion there have been several pastors across the country asking for forgiveness from parishioners due to the misguided information.

Matt Ivers from Idaho offers this apology:

“I am very sorry for wrongly teaching that and it is my best and sincere interest to not mislead, frustrate, or lie to anyone. I hope that you can forgive me and that we can all grow spiritually from this lesson.”

I think it would be wonderful to all grow spiritually from this experience. For starters, I’d like us to become more conscious and responsible about the things we say.

One of the most fascinating things about this whole Rapture business is how many of us sat up and took notice. Like the prophets in the Old Testament, our contemporary prophets are not always dialed in to the exact truthiness of a thing. But, wow, do they have passion. When someone believes something with all of their being, it is hard not to stop and marvel at it, wonder how it came to be that they feel so strong about it and decide for myself if I, too, am of the same mind.

However, many of us push our way into the “fields” of other people and attempt to manipulate their organic decision making processes.

George W. Bush looked very sincere, even earnest, about Iraq’s Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD’s) but he wasn’t passionate. It was Colin Powell, who I actually trusted, that was most convincing because of his character. “Well, maybe they do have them,” said the part of me that wants to trust others…

Renowned scientist, Stephen Hawking, came out publicly last week and suggested that the only reason he is still alive today is due to science. It makes me wonder.

“I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark.”

Hawking, the 69 year old physicist, is much like Albert Einstein in the latter years of his life, offering his $.02 about humanity, God and what, if anything, might come beyond this life.

What troubles me, however, is the arrogance that tends to accompany such declarations. Many of us believe that we think a certain way, therefore it must be so. There tends to be a dismissal of the possibility that I may be wrong, that I may be influenced by my emotions, my personal journey, and that, most important, others may believe and “know” things that directly conflict with things that I “know.” And what is more, it tends to be those already in the public eye that have the greatest impact on our beliefs. Yet, with the power of the Internet, we hear from all sorts of folks now.

There is a spiritual pride that many believers assume when they know something. There is also a pride that many non-believers assume when they know something. That pride tends to resemble straight arrogance when we assume that because I know it, you must know it as well. Even more, if you refuse to know it, you are either an idiot, ignorant, or going to burn in Hell.

Whether my computer will simply power down into nothingness at the end of my life or if I return to a conscious state of endless bliss and everythingness, my process of self-discovery and transformation is my own.

If I need you to believe what I believe in order to feel more assurance that what I believe is correct, then I don’t really know what I know.

As one of the old school prophets suggested, “Not By Might, Nor By Power, But By My Spirit – Zechariah 4:6.” Live and let live, people. Trust your heart and live the life you believe is yours to live, regardless of all the chatter that may surround you.

There is so much going on in the world these days from the struggling economy, political upheaval in the Middle East to who will replace Charlie Sheen (thank God Ashton Kutcher will have something important on which to focus all those tweets). It is hard to know where to turn first in order to stay mindfully and responsibly informed about the things that truly matter to us all.

Many of us have a tendency to focus on the “news” that is presented each evening before bed or on our portable technological wonders. Many of us, like myself on a number of occasions, believe that our food is just something we can’t worry about today because there are so many other important things that demand our attention. If only I could continue to take the source and composition of my food for granted any longer.

Sigh. Those days are over.

One of those silly little health concerns I often hear about just doesn’t seem to want to get filed away in the “Deal With Some Other Time” box in my consciousness along with microwave ovens, mercury tainted salmon and too much coffee. I have this gnawing fear that I’m going to wake up in twenty years and there will no longer be a dialogue about genetically modified organisms (GMO) because there will not exist anything on our shelves besides GMOs. That freaks me out.

What’s the big deal?

Well, genetic engineering (GE) or genetic modification (GM) of food involves the process of artificially inserting genes into the DNA of food crops or animals themselves, resulting in your basic, every day GMO. Most Americans claim they would not eat GMO’s if they were clearly labeled, however our government keeps voting to keep GMO labeling off of the vast majority of food currently found in our markets. I mean, isn’t there enough writing on our packages, cans and cartons already? Who really needs more words on our food?

I, for one, am literally dying to see more words on my food.

Since 1996, I have been eating genetically modified ingredients in most of the processed foods I have consumed and there is a strong likelihood that you have joined me. Think about the reality that corn and soy are in thousands of regular products we consume and that the vast majority of the corn and soy used in these products are genetically modified. Unless we are consciously choosing to eat organic ALL the time, there is a likelihood that we order take out, stop at a fast food joint, grab pizza and a beer after work, etc. and just choose to ignore the crucial question of where the ingredients came from.

Just the other day we were ordering Thai food from a local favorite restaurant and my wife called out: “Ask them if they use non-GMO soy in the tofu!” I was too hungry to worry about it and I wanted my Thai fix. I also knew the likely answer and I don’t want to stop eating Thai food. So, unless we really start moving on this issue as a society like Europe where GMO’s are categorically banned, it is unlikely that any of us will be able to live our lives GMO free.

Please consider the food you eat just like the shoes you buy. You wouldn’t wear shoes that didn’t really match your outfit, would you? For me, eating GMO’s doesn’t really match the kind of person I want to be…

Here is a summary of crops, foods and food ingredients that have been genetically modified as of May, 2010 with much deserved credit due to Jeffrey Smith and his amazing website,

Codex General Standard for Food Additives (GSFA) Online Database of the World Health Organization(WHO) Food and Agriculture Organization(FAO) of the United Nations and the reports of the Joint FAO/WHO Expert Committee on Food Additives (JECFA). Available at:

The University of Maryland Medical Center database of supplements by name:

Archives of the Agricultural Research Service of the USDA:

Reports of the European Commission Scientific Committee for Food:

U.S. National Institute of Health (NIH) PubMed Central (PMC):

I wanted to believe that this might be the only blog in town this week not about Osama or Obama. That I wouldn’t write a tome about “to kill a killer” or “to gloat or not to gloat.” Yet, in the end, it’s all really about the meaning of life, anyway. I’m talking about BIG stuff, here. I’m talking about THE POINT.

What’s the point?

And I’m not coming from that nihilistic, black nail polish kind of place. I’m coming from that stare into the mirror and sigh sort of place.

It seems like back “in the really old days” people had basic survival to contend with more than anything. Hunt, gather, and/ or grow food and do ones best to protect the family from marauders and generally bad people. Also likely was the added concern with the fate of one’s body, mind and spirit in the assumed or hotly debated afterlife.

Today, we’re still concerned with the procurement of food ( I mean, who doesn’t like a cold Coca Cola) and self-protection (could I ever build a wall high enough), however these basic needs are often overshadowed by the pursuit of new technology (patiently, peacefully waiting for the IPhone 5), preparing for retirement (what does that really mean in this day and age) and where and when we will take our next vacation (when did we need a fancy term for staying home instead of going somewhere else).

Back in the day when folks were primarily concerned with the survival of self and soul, do you think they felt an overarching sense of meaning in their lives? Do you think they felt connected to the rest of the planet; a kinship with other humans? Even without CNN? Makes me wonder…

When faced with my survival, is there really significant emotional and physical space to worry about the existential nature of meaning and purpose?

Today there are surely billions of people who are still concerned with their souls in the afterlife and who derive a sense of meaning from their respective religions or beliefs. Yet, I am unsure as to whether there is a unifying, universally coherent, common purpose for us all; something that draws us all together. Was the notion of the Tower of Babel (one of my favorite parables) merely about language or was there a deeper, existential notion of DIFFERENCE?

One would think the condition of our environment would have accomplished a unification for our species long ago yet the fact that the nations of the world can’t seem to work together to solve global warming is an indication of our state of affairs. We still remain scattered across the earth doing our own thing. Some countries still consider global warming an Other issue as a matter of public policy.

Then there is, of course, the issue of doctrine, dogma and subjective truth. The marauders attacking my village thousands of years ago believed they were justified in attacking my village even though I strongly disagreed. I mean, I REALLY disagreed with the essential premise of their approach to life.

Many of us today are in favor of free speech and democratic process until someone threatens us for real. When marauders come rolling through my sense of peace and calm, I want to stop them by any means necessary because I’m still basically a human being who doesn’t care about you until you make changing me and altering my agenda, your agenda. Then we have a problem, man.

The notion of that primordial tower was for all the nations of the earth to band together for a common end and build a structure so amazing that we could reach God, thus becoming Gods. However, that scoundrel God “confounded the language of all the Earth.” (Genesis 11:5-8) and set us back a ways. Now look at us.

I say unto you: one must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. I say unto you: you still have chaos in yourselves. Zarathustra in “Thus Spake Zarathustra” by F.W. Nietzsche

I had a beloved professor as an undergraduate at Colgate named Barry Alan Shain who loved the writings of German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. I took as many classes with Professor Shain as I could which wasn’t so difficult as he was a kindred spirit when it came to not scheduling any classes before noon on a school day.

Most of these classes involved some degree of political philosophy, communitarianism and whatever philosophical itch he was scratching that day. He was a very itchy man and I learned a great deal about not opening my mouth unless I was ready and able to make clear statements about my ideas, beliefs and determinations about the world.

There was something simultaneously disturbing and seductive about Nietzsche’s ideas that fit rather nicely with the state of my being as a twenty year old man living in a cold, sleepy college town in upstate New York. Professor Shain was seductive in his own ability to illuminate the elements of this profound nineteenth century German’s thoughts that seemingly mirrored my own at the time.

The fact that Nietzsche’s work arguably laid the intellectual foundation for both Richard Wagner and Adolph Hitler’s work made this particular academic experience feel a bit like waking up on a Sunday morning with a terrible hangover and some embarrassing flashbacks trailing across my dorm room.

And life itself told me this secret: ‘Behold,’ it said, ‘I am that which must overcome itself again and again.” Nietzsche, “Ecce Homo”

You’ve probably seen a bumper sticker or two reflecting Nietzsche’s most famous quote, “God is Dead.” Of course, to truly comprehend the depth and magnitude of Nietzsche’s work requires a great deal more space, time and effort than a bumper sticker. Yet, boiling down a lifetime of intellectual exploration into a pithy sound bite seems to be the way of the modern world.

Ours is a world of dense volumes of congressional laws offered as a headline or a dramatic cgi graphic. Incredible, monumental events occur in the world and are typically presented with a particular (invisible and unknown) person’s interpretation amidst the sights and sounds akin to a summer blockbuster action movie.

Nietzsche once remarked that

the time is coming when man will no longer give birth to a star. Alas, the time of the most despicable man is coming, he that is no longer able to despise himself. Behold, I show you the last man.

There is an uncomfortable feeling I get when I consider a growing phenomenon of the masses on our planet accepting truth as carefully constructed, bite size morsels rather than a complex meal to be ingested and digested followed by a healthy bit of deconstruction and analysis.

Last week-end I sat and watched my wife eat her favorite dessert of late, an éclair. To be honest, I savored the experience of simply appreciating her relish the pastry, bite after bite, with both precision and passion. I learned far more about her by silently watching her love what she loves than I possibly could have by asking her why she loves the éclair so much. Perhaps we all need a bit more éclair gazing in our lives.

When I was a boy, there were few things I enjoyed more on a hot summer day than a good game of war. The sun shining, neighbor kids out en masse, ice cream man due in a few hours…and water guns. I loved squirt gun fights. With enough kids involved, these fights could become battles and we would re-enact our own distorted versions of the Raid on Pearl Harbor (wasn’t their any hand to hand combat at Pearl Harbor) or one of the numerous battles against the Nazis. We could all agree that Nazis were bad.

At my ecumenical summer camp, these games of war were nuanced to the “Raid on Entebbe” where Israeli commandos swept into the heart of Uganda to save 248 Jewish Air France hostages from sure death at the hand of terrorists. We all fought over who got to be the unit commander, Jonathan Netanyahu, who was the only commando who didn’t make it out alive.

What was it that drew me to the hot molded plastic with cool water in its chamber? What was it about the passion and the fury as we swept down at each other furiously squeezing our weapons and simulating machine gun noises? Well, for one thing, we were almost always all boys. Sure, there was the obvious need to release pent up aggression at parents, teachers and bullies. Sure, more than a few of us had begun the Change…strange squirts of adolescent testosterone pulsing through our wiry little bodies, hardly equipped it seemed, to handle these new levels of manhood.

There was something magical about these squirt guns, these tools of young masculinity. Just gripping a plastic Uzi in my hand gave me a certain power, a sense of strength and ability, a certain reach, so to speak. In fact, holding a water gun was like holding an extension of myself. I was able to imagine my manhood reaching out into the world and effecting change.

That might make you giggle. It might make you wince at a culture that equates violence and masculinity. You might run out to the store and buy dolphin squirters for your children. Yet, there is a truth here that transcends projections about violence and aggression that we often associate with little boys playing with guns.

There is a process by which little boys realize that there is something powerful about their penises and while it may not be the ideal manifestation of that process, playing with guns is an attempt by little boys to understand themselves. And, yes, violence is a component of transporting testosterone. It is one of the challenges; a test of strength to use testosterone wisely and for good…

Abercrombie and Fitch this week released a new line of push up bikinis for little girls who aren’t biologically supposed to have a woman’s breasts at nine years old. While I’m as outraged as the next person, I also understand the challenge for young girls to understand what it means to be a female in this world. Somehow, playing with dolls and baking cakes in the Holly Hobby oven doesn’t cut it any longer. Kids know there is something just outside the door, waiting.

Like their male counterparts at nine years old, there is a desperate need to feel safe and in control of oneself as we negotiate a society that is rapidly maturing, encroaching on childhood with a frustratingly insistent intensity. Technology, change, and information is squeezing childhood back toward the crib without concern for the impact it might have on our basic human development.