I want to take the opportunity to recommend the May 2005 issue of Shambala Sun to people. While the balance of the magazine is interesting and of value, but I feel that two articles are of particular value to me and most of the people I know.

Shambala Sun

One is an interview with Sam Harris, author of the recent bestseller “The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason”. Not being particularly saturated by mass media, I knew nothing of his book before reading this interview, but find Harris’ argument eminently reasonable. It seems like he has come from a decidedly secular, scientific upbringing. He derides any religion based upon a supposedly irrefutable, static text, and points out the inherent problems such beliefs pose for a world full of immensely powerful and deadly weapons. A pertinent citation from his book:

Technology has a way of creating fresh moral imperatives. Our technical advances in the art of war have finally rendered our religious differences—and hence our religious beliefs—antithetical to our survival. We can no longer ignore the fact that billions of our neighbors believe in the metaphysics of martyrdom, or in the literal truth of the book of Revelation, or any of the other fantastical notions that have lurked in the minds of the faithful for millennia—because our neighbors are now armed with chemical, biological and nuclear weapons.

He then specifically addresses the need to formulate a modern set of ethics that aren’t derived from ancient religious dogma.

Harris is undoubtedly controversial, and his recommendations radical. On the other hand, he is expressing what many Americans have innately felt, whether they left Christendom for agnosticism, paganism, Buddhism, or atheism. The bottom line is that the three Old Testament religions are primitive, divisive, and any literalist interpretation of them will perpetuate the religious conflicts of the past two millennia, albeit now with weapons that make humanity’s worst nightmares look like cotton candy and rosebuds. But enough of Harris; let’s look at something more positive.

The other article, “Searching for the Heart of Compassion”, was written by Marc Ian Barasch, author of “Field Notes on the Compassionate Life: A Search for the Soul of Kindness”. Again, I don’t know if this one’s widely known, but I found the article exceptionally interesting, and have the book on order at the BPL.

Barasch is an engaging writer who is trying to develop the kind of compassion espoused by Buddhist practitioners everywhere. However, he’s also an average guy who struggles to overcome the egocentrism and selfishness inherent in modern American culture. His writing is simultaneously approachable and illuminating, and I’m really looking forward to his book.

One of his assertions is that “our obsession with seamless self-contentment (’What I love about Subway is it’s all about me!’) has occluded our ability to love each other”. He also pointed out the contradiction of Thomas Aquinas’ observation that “No one becomes compassionate unless he suffers” with our effort “to secure happiness by fortifying ourselves against imperfection”.

Barasch also levels some criticism against the modern image of Buddhism and meditation as a quest for higher consciousness, citing a Buddhist lama who asserted that “Spiritual practice is not just about feeling peaceful and happy, but being willing to give up your own comfort to help someone else”.

He calls upon many sources, and eventually gets around to Martin Luther King, Jr.’s particularly insightful observation that even justice is only “love correcting that which revolts against love”.

Unfortunately, I can’t do justice to either article, but I thought that both might be of interest to people, because both directly address themselves to the immense, unseen questionmark regarding the roles religion, spirituality, morality, and ethics play in this modern, scientific, skeptical, secular American society.

We can no longer afford to blithely ignore the immense threat that religion poses for our planet, nor the pain and suffering caused by our failure to create a modern ethical structure to replace it. I find it heartening that these two articles—and the two popular books that they relate to—are good first steps in beginning a long-needed discussion about the roles of religion and ethics in the modern world.

Do holidays make any sense to you? They really don’t to me. One day we’re looking for rodents, the next we’re Irish, then we’re looking for egg-laying rabbits. One day we wear disguises and teach our children extortion, the next we celebrate the land’s bounty, then we give it all away to our friends, followed quickly by staying up all night and getting drunk. All this really makes sense to you?

It doesn’t to me. If you ask me, the only holidays worth sincere observation are the ten solar events of the year.

Ten? There are only two solstices and two equinoxes, no? Well, yes, but there’s more, too. Let’s have a little astronomy review, shall we? Let’s begin with what everyone already knows.

There are two equinoxes: spring (vernal) and fall (autumnal). Those are the times when the Sun passes directly over the equator, passing from the northern hemisphere to the southern, or vice versa. It’s also when day and night are roughly equal in length. They fall, respectively, around March 20 and September 23. These were important dates to the Celts, whom I’ll refer to a couple times here, and the church absorbed these observances under the names of Eostar/Ostara and Mabon, respectively.

And there are the two solstices: summer and winter. These are the longest and shortest days of the year, and the days when the Sun is as far north/south as it will get before heading back towards the equator again. However, they are not mathematically halfway between the equinoxes, usually falling on June 21 and December 22. The pagan holidays of Litha and Yule were again confiscated by the Christian/Borg authorities.

Few people realize it now, but there are also four cross-quarter days, each of which was roughly halfway between a solstice and an equinox. Who cares? Well, those nutty Celts did, because they actually observed the change of seasons with these cross-quarter days, which match up with reality much better than the solstices and equinoxes. To them, the latter were mid-season events, not the borders between seasons.

Modern-day wicco-pagans are familiar with all this, since they too celebrate these solar holidays, but they don’t quite get it right. Somehow the traditional dates for their observances that don’t synch with the astronomical reality.

For example, Imbolc (aka Solmonath, Candlemas) is the Celtic beginning of spring. It happens February 4th, which coincides (not accidentally) with Groundhog Day. But Wiccans traditionally observe it on February 1 for some reason.

Similarly, Beltane (Whitsuntide, Walpurgisnacht) is the beginning of summer. It happens on May 5, but wiccans, who seem to have a penchant for round numbers, celebrate it on the last day of April.

Lughnasadh (Lammas) heralds autumn on August 7, but wiccans think August first is close enough.

Finally, there’s Samhain (Hallowmas), the wicked wiccan new year, observed on Halloween, October 31. Never mind that the cross-quarter day is actually November 7th. Ah, those nutty wiccans, playing fast and loose with their own holy days!

That, of course, only accounts for eight of the ten solar events I mentioned. There are two more. What could they be?

Well, all the holidays I’ve mentioned so far are tied to the seasons, which means they’re an attribute of the Earth’s 23-degree axial tilt. The other two days are different; they’re a function of the elliptical nature of the Earth’s orbit around the Sun. Because it’s elliptical, there must be a point at which the Earth is closer to the Sun than any other time during the year, and a similar furthest point from the Sun. These are called Perihelion and Aphelion, respectively.

The interesting thing is that those of us in the northern hemisphere have this all backwards. The day of the Earth’s closest approach to the Sun (Perihelion) actually occurs in the middle of winter: January 4th, usually. Similarly, the Earth is at its most distant point from the Sun (Aphelion) during summer: the Fourth of July (although this is one case where the modern holiday wasn’t lifted from the solar calendar). If we were in the southern hemisphere, this arrangement might seem more intuitive to people.

That gives us ten solar holidays, which make a great deal more sense to me than our contrived celebrations, for they observe the changes in our days and our seasons, which affect every living thing on our planet. At my last job we were given “floating holidays”, which I used on these solar holidays to celebrate the seasons. I found that much more satisfactory than taking a completely arbitrary day off to celebrate “the strength and esprit de corps of the trade and labor organizations” in 19th century New York City.

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