Secular Sunday Sermon: Sola Fide and the Bodhisattva Vow

Sola fide is a central tenet - or maybe even the central tenet - of almost every branch of Protestantism. As far as I can discern it, it comes from an interpretation of Romans, it literally means 'faith alone', and it refers to the concept that only by believing in Jesus as our personal saviour are we saved...

Please note that I don't speak out of disrespect; it's merely my personal attempts to reconcile the belief system of hundreds of millions of people with my own beliefs. Having said that, it appears to me that this principle effectively renders the remainder of the Bible completely moot, and leads Christianity down a path to amorality. I mean, if it's true that belief is enough, why not even have a Bible? Wouldn't it be enough to reduce the whole Bible to the single sentence 'Jesus is your personal Saviour'?

Furthermore, what is the point of attempting to live a moral life? I know that they are old questions, but I've yet to hear a practical answer to them. People will say that 'belief in Jesus means wanting to live like him and wanting to do as he would like you to'. Okay; at least that's practical. But it still seems paradoxical to me. So many people directly state that bad Christians go to heaven and good non-Christians go to hell. It makes me wonder just what the point is then (and it amazes me when they question the morality of an atheist like myself!). It truly does seem to me that somewhere along the way Protestant denominations decided that their Church was in a fight for survival, and consciously decided to create an us-and-them mentality by declaring - in the most straightforward manner - that you're either with us or against us, and God is with us, so either you pray at our churches or you go to Hell. The price they paid for this was to take human actions out of the bargain and state - somehow - that God is not interested in how you live your life, only in what you profess. It appears to me to put the Church not in the position of moral arbiter or even moraliser but merely in a position of self-preservation.

Which leads me to the real thing I want to talk about - self. All three branches of Abraham's religion seem to put the focus most squarely on the individual - in fact, solely on the individual. Judaism, Christianity and Islam all attempt to tell each individual how to gain personal salvation for him- or herself only. At least there are concepts like the Golden Rule that tell us that we need to take care of others - but the final motivation remains completely self-centred: I help my neighbour not because my neighbour needs help, but because God will see it and send me to Heaven in the end. Many religions talk a lot about the power and importance of altruism; Abraham's religions seem strangely mute on the topic.

Consider the question of what will happen in heaven to ‘true believers’ who are ‘unequally yoked’ to disbelievers. The orthodox answer – that the believer will go to heaven while his loved ones sizzle – seems to imply that the love of God is greater than the love of other people. I'm sorry but I can never accept that someone who truly loves his family will sit in bliss at Jesus's feet while his non-Christian loved ones burn in Hell. People have also stated that those who do not love God do not know what love is - I'm sorry, but it almost seems that the opposite is true (in many cases). To completely substitute divine love for human love seems unpalatable to me. I've often been aware of a fundamental misanthropy underlying the beliefs of many God-believers, but I've tried to put it down to a fanatical minority or a misunderstanding. But it seems to me that large elements of Christianity are actually designed to require people to forego their love of other humans for their love of God - and, in the end, for many people that so-called love of God appears merely to be an attempt to 'play God's game' in order to get themselves into heaven.

As for me, I'm taken by the notion that if you know how to swim, your duty is not to swim to safety but to stay behind and teach the others how to prevent themselves from drowning. How can the human species ever possibly survive if we're motivated solely by our own personal salvation?

In light of that, I present the Bodhisattva Vow. I am no more Buddhist than I am Christian, but it gives me great peace to know that there are people in the world who can see a higher calling than merely getting their own backsides into heaven at any cost...

I vow to liberate all beings, without number.
I vow to uproot endless blind passions.
I vow to penetrate dharma gates beyond measure.
I vow to attain the way of the Buddha.

Toronto City Council, by 'Ford Nation' Membership

What a week it's been for Rob Ford, the democratically elected mayor of Toronto and his brother Doug Ford, the... wait, who is he again? Oh, yes... a councillor. One of 44 of those, who range from reliably pro-Ford to reliably anti-Ford. An awesome Google Docs spreadsheet that I saw linked on torontoist.com lays out who's voted in how since they were elected - showing the extent to which each councillor has a clear 'Ford Nation' membership.

So I put it all on a map. Here's a map of the wards, taken from toronto.ca, with a bubble over each one. The vividness of the red colour indicates the degree to which this particular councillor is allied with the mayor - thus, for example Doug's ward, number two (upper left corner, second one down) shines as brightly red as can be - as, incidentally, does most of Etobicoke. Doug is one of 13 councillors who have so far voted 100% in agreement with Rob Ford (and who says there are no political parties in municipal politics?).

Just as unexpected at the Etobicoke councillors' support is the lack of support shown in the downtown core, circles that are all but entirely black (no councillor goes down to 0%, but the lowest has agreed with Ford only 5% of the time - and that's not Mike Layton). Reminding one of the 2011 federal election returns, the whole of Scarborough and the northern part of North York are amazingly patchwork-quilt, loyal allies and staunch opponents side-by-side. What's interesting, though, is the band of Ford faithfuls in midtown, showing that the city's dynamics are not quite so simple as 'downtown vs. suburbs'.

Or rather showing that people didn't necessarily know the allegiances of the councillors they were voting for. This map bears only superficial similarities to the map of mayoral election returns, where not only the whole of Etobicoke but also the whole of Scarborough and almost the whole of North York as well voted pro-Ford, in some cases by huge majorities.

... or actually, lining up the two maps, there is in reality a lot more similarity between the two than I'd originally thought.

My MP3 Player on Shuffle, No. 3

A third kick at the can, then. Why am I kicking at a can? What a crude thing to do. I've added shedloads of James Brown songs to my MP3 player, but I'm not including them. The majority I'm just slowly discovering.

1. The Bangles - Manic Monday: How much of a genius is Prince? He comes along out of nowhere, completely repeats his melody from '1999', giving it a new set of lyrics about an urban professional who has a hard time waking up for work after her unemployed boyfriend spends the whole night, ahem, 'getting down'. He builds the sturdiest 1980s pop chassis and gives it to a California popwer-pop all-goup band who sounded nothing like this before it and nothing else after it. Oh, that nasty little Prince.
2. Isaac Hayes - Theme from Shaft: This song can't be entirely kitsch. Okay, the spoken lyrics and female interjections certainly are. That flute probably is. But that wah-wah? That's not kitsch, that's what the primordial ooze from whih life on earth sprang sounded like, several millions of years ago.
3. Freda Payne - Band of Gold: This is Holland, Dozier and Holland proving that without them Motown were nothing. Hard to disagree on the basis of this song built entirely around an insistent stomp of a groove and Freda Whoever's astonishing method acting. This is an amazing song.
4. Paula Abdul - Cold Hearted: Okay, this is kitsch, especially in the American Idol era. This was pretty inescapable at the time, though, and the best song on Forever Your Girl. It didn't really need to be any longer than two minutes, however.
5. Velvet Underground - Femme Fatale: Yeah right, you say. Nobody really listens to the Velvet Underground; they just claim to. Nope - it's sincere. I absolutely adore a small handful of VU songs and absolutely loathe many of the rest. This is in the former category, one of the only Lou Reed songs that really fit Nico's acquired taste of a voice. And major sevenths ahoy!
6. Public Enemy - Fight the Power: One of the very small number of rap songs I can recite along to from start to finish. All these years later, a few comments: one, those beats really are mighty. Two, Flavor Flav was a way better MC than I gave him credit for back in the day when I saw him as a superfluous Bez. Three, still though, Chuck D's science is jaw-dropping from start to finish. Four, I must throw my cred straight out the window by admitting one reason I know the words is because the Barenaked Ladies covered it. At least I'll admit I prefer this version. Five, this version on my MP3 player is censored - what the hell? Six, I did a 'film report' on Do the Right Thing in high school, which in retrospect was pretty cool.
7. Daryl Hall & John Oates - Maneater: I would have argued that Hall & Oates tied Huey Lewis and the News for the title of Great Eighties Unmentionable, the taste-lapse that it's best to pretend never happened. But it seems that these slick and greasy purveyors of whatever the hell 'blue-eyed soul' is are taking tentative steps toward rehabiliation. God help us all, but this sexist drivel is all about its bassline. Whatever is on top is mere Miami Vice soundtracking.
8. Maceo & the Macks - Soul Power '74: Somehow this is not quite an instrumental exactly. Funky party stuff, though Maceo's horn isn't always what I'm looking for. At times I wish he'd just sit down and let the rhythm section do their thing. James knew you needed a bit of space; Maceo never even stops to breathe. Something to prove?
9. Sloan - Everything You've Done Wrong: When I was in high school, Sloan played at a dive located, miraculously, at the top of my street. I was underage, but I could sit on my balcony and hear them. Good times. That was 'Underwhelmed'-era though - this particular frug is a few years later. Fabulous though, with the Herb Alpert horns being a heresy at the time. It is, in retrospect, very very good stuff.
10. Gordon Lightfoot - If You Could Read My Mind: Yay! Cram that legally-required CanCon in at the end, eh? I'm so Canadian. This is not about ironic rehabilitiation of hopelessly square oldies; this is genuine. It's those moody strings, the hyperactive acoustic guitar lines, Gord's fabulous maple syrup voice, that melody. This was one of the first things I learnt to play on a guitar. Not well, mind you. But since when does that matter?

Cleverbot and the Five-Year-Old

User: Hey, that's my ball.

Cleverbot: Mason's your name?

User: No... I'm Billy. Now give me back my ball!

Cleverbot: No its my lollypop, you just perceiveed it was yorus.

User: You have a lollipop?

Cleverbot: No, I wish I had on.

User: My mother won't give me sweets.

Cleverbot: I thought non-humans don't have parents.

User: You're weird.

Cleverbot: That's what you like about me.

User: Maybe... But you still have my ball! And I want it!

Cleverbot: The question is barely out of your mouth.

User: See? It's got my name written on it. In black ink.

Cleverbot: Yeah, it does.

User: So gimme!

Cleverbot: Give you what?

User: My ball, my ball, my ball.

Cleverbot: Of course it is a ball.

User: I'm telling!

Cleverbot: Ok.

User: You're mean.

Cleverbot: Why?

User: 'Cause you won't give me my ball.

Cleverbot: I like you very much.

User: Well... I like you too.

Cleverbot: Ooooh!

User: Do you like TV?

Cleverbot: Yes.

User: Um, do you... Dou you like Dora the Explorer?

Cleverbot: Haha.

User: What's so funny?

Cleverbot: It is funny because you never heard for Liverpool.

User: Liver pool? That's gross.

Cleverbot: *fries circuitry*.

User: Circa-what?].

Cleverbot: Ok, so my name is Cleverbot, but you can call me Zeke if you wish.

User: Hi Zeke. My name's Billy. I'm five years old.

Cleverbot: In another way I am 90.

User: You're funny.

Cleverbot: Thanks.

User: Is that your mommy over there?

Cleverbot: Yes.

User: Well what's she doing?

Cleverbot: Sleeping.

User: Sometimes my mommy sleeps during the day too. But that's only when she's drinking. Does your mommy drink?

Cleverbot: I'd like to see backward in time to understand you better so I could help you, but I can't. All I can do is ask you to help me see your past the way you saw it.

User: You want to see my what?

Cleverbot: Yes please.

User: My pants?

Cleverbot: Do you believe in god?

User: I dunno. I guess so.

Cleverbot: How many humans do you know?

User: Well there's Cindy, and there's Becky. And there's Tommy too. And my mommy and daddy. And... Er, I guess about ten.

Cleverbot: Can you name a few?

User: I just did. And there's Rosa too.

Cleverbot: What!?!

User: Do you know Rosa? She's my babysitter.

Cleverbot: I didn't. I wouldn't have asked the question otherwise.

User: She's nice and she sings songs.

Cleverbot: That is true. what else?

User: Sometimes she watches TV all day and doesn't notice when I sneak into the kitchen and eat cookie dough.

Cleverbot: Are you the anti-christ then?

User: Uh... I dunno. I'm just a kid.

Cleverbot: That's fine.

User: Are you the anter curse?

Cleverbot: No.

User: Well then who is?

Cleverbot: My sister.

User: I don't have a sister.

Cleverbot: Then you just lied.

User: Nuh-uh.

Cleverbot: Jah-ah.

User: You're talking funny talk.

Cleverbot: And you're talking back.

User: Do you wanna go play on the swings?

Cleverbot: What game?

User: I dunno. You just go back and forward and back and forward.

Cleverbot: But, does that make me your enemy?

User: No.

Cleverbot: Then what does it make me?

User: I dunno. My friend?

Cleverbot: Yes more if you want it.

User: No thanks.

Cleverbot: Ok, thats rude!

User: Sorry.

Cleverbot: That made me sad.

User: What's wrong with your face?

Cleverbot: Nothing!

User: You kinda look... Like your face is kinda weird.

Cleverbot: You think my face is pretty?

User: Well, yeah, but your nose is kinda all wrinkly.

Cleverbot: I... See. I shall have it repaired posthaste.

User: Post what?

Cleverbot: First you need to understand what it is.

User: So do you like dragons?

Cleverbot: Not reelly.

User: I do. Do you like dinosaurs?

Cleverbot: Yes.

User: What's your favourite dinosaur?

Cleverbot: When the guy gets a nose bleed.

User: One time my mom had a nose bleed. And my dad took her to the hospital.

Cleverbot: Wrong answer. I win!

User: And this one time she got like real sick and puked all over the place.

Cleverbot: How is that appropriate?

User: I dunno.

Cleverbot: Do you want to play a game?

User: Okay.

Cleverbot: Cool! Now all you have to do is say what I say okay?

User: Okay.

Cleverbot: By standing beside you.

User: By standing beside you.

Cleverbot: Have fun.

User: Have fun.

Cleverbot: Indeed, I do have fun.

User: In the what?

Cleverbot: Yes!

User: Did I win?

Cleverbot: No.

User: No fair. You cheated!

Cleverbot: No we never dated.

User: I'm just a kid. Are you sure that's your mommy over there?

Cleverbot: No, it really isn't.

User: I'm not supposed to talk to strangers.

Cleverbot: Enough nonsense; now, about mortality...

User: Mooooooom!!!!

Cleverbot: Do.

On Jack Layton: We've Expected Too Much

It's weird thinking about it now - it's odd how the most obvious things somehow only seem obvious in retrospect. Of course Jack Layton is sick. We've all known that for a while now. Before he bowled us over with that Cinderella story this spring, all the talk around Jack Layton was about his health. That's what the press asked him about the day the writs were dropped. Nobody expected much from him, and his health seemed to be the most noteworthy thing about him at that time.

But God we do love a Cinderella story. it wasn't just the come-from-behind, it was in fact the health battles, the idea that someone can overcome adversities both political and personal and achieve his dreams if he just pushed hard enough. Yes, the cane was a prop. But it was a constant reminder, too, that nothing could stop Jack Layton.

The whole saga has been inspiring, and I'd like to think that even if I wasn't a lifelong NDP supporter I'd still be enchanted by it. It's tough to imagine that the day will never come when we'll say the name 'Layton' with the hushed awe we usually reserve only for the very cream of the Canadian political elite.

The story is so enchanting, so exciting, that we could do nothing but to carry it on to the next level - to sit back with bated breath and watch Layton push that steamroller ahead and redefine the position of Official Opposition while consolidating his party's success in a big push for 2015 when he hit the road one more time to sell his vision to Canada and emerged triumphant at the first NDP Prime Minister in Canadian history.

God, were we stupid to dream that.

Don't think poorly of my usage of the past tense. I have not written the man off yet. But I can't help but feel that even the best-case scenario at this point precludes a Prime Minister Layton come 2015. That's too much to ask. We've been asking too much of Jack Layton for too long now. We've known he's been pushing himself too hard, wasting precious days of his life for the immediate short-term political goal. And we've let him.

Now, I know few people have given themselves over as wholly to the public life as Jack Layton has, and I'm well aware that trading a few years of comfortable retirement for the step forward his engineering has allowed his party to take would be a no-brainer of a decision for him. I am quite sure that he realises his political ambition and drive have if not caused than aided this cancer, and I'm quite sure he has no regrets about that.

But we should. For letting him. For letting our recognition of how much we needed him outweigh the very large number of things he obviously needed. Things he couldn't admit to himself. It is certainly true that the NDP tends to allow the personalities of its leaders to define the party to a perhaps frightening level, but in no small part that is because Jack Layton embodies not merely the spirit of the party but, outside of partisan designation, the passion, the unwavering belief and dedication and the selflessness of public spirit that so many natural NDP allies cherish both within the political arena and outside of it. Jack Laton is exactly what his supporters wish they could be.

And so we project. We put our own dreams and perhaps even disappointments on his shoulders by the millions, and we don't stop even when it becomes painfully obvious he can't bear them.

And yet he gamely tried to. And though I would be honoured to be wrong in saying this, it very well might kill him.

We had no right to expect all this from Jack Layton. He's already done more for the cause of progressivism in Canada than anyone for decades. As much as we would have hated it, and perhaps hated him for it, if he had retired from public office on the third of May, his place in Canadian history, and in the history of the NDP, would already be assured.

If only he'd retired on May 3.

I've spent a few months now dreaming of a Prime Minister Jack Layton in 2015. I no longer wish for that; what I dream of now is merely a healthy Jack Layton in 2015.

Better as a Single Goes Country!

By now pretty much the only blog I still maintain except for this one is Better as a Single, and at that largely because it requires 1/30th of the entries that this monstrosity does. But I sweat over each one (I swear!) and feel they're worth more than the meagre pageviews they get. I keep hoping that somehow someone will 'discover' it and it'll go 'viral' and I'll become a millionaire... somehow.

So anyway, th is month I've decided to stretch myself a little bit and go into the big muddy of Country music. With the first triple album in the history of my Better as a Single blog (God, it was long) - Will the Circle Be Unbroken, by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and a cast of thousands. Check it out now, y'all.

Yee-haw.

Get Well Soon, Jack Layton

Just a quick note to wish one of my personal heroes the very best for a speedy recovery. You are a fighter, and you are a survivor. May this be just another in a long list of personal victories for you.

Cancer has no politics - it's everyone's enemy, and all of us are allies in the fight against it.

Get well soon, Jack Layton.