I was really impressed with this article in the NYT.  Professor Luhrmann argues each person has a belief continuum, from what we absolutely never will believe to what we always believe (or even take for granted!).  He then says we all have a "boggle threshold," where any thing beyond this point on the belief spectrum is out of mind's bounds of comprehension.  Interestingly, he makes an excellent point that the more we define what we don't believe, the more we are open to possibly closer, less extreme beliefs.

Here is his conclusion, and the entire article is worth a quick read:

Approaching Wailua from the south, you will see Lydgate Beach Park on your right just before you cross over the Wailua River.  This place of sea and sand marks the sacred gateway into the heart of the island.  Called hauola or “dew of life,” this area around the river’s mouth was well renown as a place of healing and wholeness.  Here many ancient Tahitian voyages would embark and arrive, and many ali’i or chiefs resided.  Remnants of large volcanic boulders just off shore create a small, somewhat protected area for swimming and snorkeling.  The last king of Kaua‘i, King Kaumualii, used to swim here.

At the north end of Lydgate Beach Park next to the river’s mouth is a heiau erected in the 14th century.  The original structure, called Hikina-a-ka-la or “The Rising of the Sun,” rose like a mighty fortress, measuring 80 feet wide and nearly 400 feet long, with walls six feet high and over eight feet thick.  Each day at dawn, the sun’s first rays broke through the sea’s salt spray and warmed the stacked stones.  Kahuna or priests would greet the rising sun with chants and prayers.  They placed wooden statues or ki’i along the river wall to keep watch and sway with the shifting tides. 

Within the heiau walls was a pu’uhonua, a place of refuge for those fleeing a crime.  After a few days of performing sacred rights, a refugee would be released without being punished.  Various people sought refuge here during times of war.  

Today, all that remains are foundation stones amidst a grove of coconut trees.  Remember that this heiau is still a sacred place.  People often leave offerings wrapped in ti leaves.  May these offerings and this sacred place continue to offer healing for all. 

Turning onto Kuamo‘o Road (Highway 580), you are now entering Wailua Nui Honoa, the Great Sacred Wailua river basin, one of the two most sacred sites in all of the Hawaiian Islands.  Less than a quarter mile on your left is a small turnout at the Holoholoku Heiau, the oldest place of worship on Kauai.  Here the Hawaiians honored the beginning and end of life. 

The low stone wall you see, measuring 24 by 40 feet, marks the original foundation of the heiau.  This heiau honored all of the Hawaiian gods, giving particular recognition to Ku.  Ku literally means “rising upright,” as in the rising sun over the ocean nearby, and often the Hawaiians worshipped Ku for good fortune and prosperity in their endeavors.  Archeologists believe animal or possibly human sacrifices were part of the worship here.

Just as life ends, so does it begin.  Walk a few meters beyond the heiau to a small cliff face and another sacred site called the Birthstone, where the last king of Kaua‘i, King Kaumualii, was born.  The flat sandstone in front of the small stone foundation marks the remains of a sacrificed dog, making the area kapu or forbidden to commoners.  

Inside the stone wall was a hut for the expectant mother.  When the time came, she leaned on the birthstone, Pohaku Hoohanau, to your left, and placed her feet on the umbilical stone, Pohaku Piko.  The umbilical cord, representing past connection, was wrapped in kapa leaves and wedged in the large crack in the cliff to protect it from rats.  A rat eating the cord meant the child would become a thief.  No matter one’s lineage, a future chief had to be born on this stone in order to be chief and absorb the sacred mana or energy of this place.  Here, place matters.

The modern staircase leads to a Japanese cemetery dating from the 1890s.  Return to your car to continue up Kuamo‘o Road, built on an ancient path called “The Way of the Kings.”  Many chiefs would travel along the Kuamo‘o or “Spine of the Lizard” on their annual pilgrimage, stopping at one of seven sacred sites, including Holoholoku, until they reached Mount Waialeale.

One of my top skills on LinkedIn is "Pastoral Care."  

I've always found pastoral care to be an enigma.  Compared to doctors, firefighters, psychologists and others who give care to people, a pastor's care feels somehow both superficial and substantive.  

I would venture to say that most spiritual things embody this conflicting traits: superficial yet substantive.

Pastoral care training is essentially about becoming a better listener.  

It takes an incredible amount of attention and a lot of humility.  

It is like meditating in someone else's head.

I thought about this after reading this story from the comments section of this post:

When we listen with intention and care, we get out of ourselves and into another.

We enter a new world.

And our world is forever changed.

May you listen today with all of our mind, all of your heart, all of your soul, and all of your strength.

I am about to finish book two of George R. R. Martin's epic fantasy A Song of Ice and Fire, known as A Game of Thrones on HBO, the name of the first book in what is to be a seven-book series . . . kind of like Harry Potter, but rated R, if not NC-17.

Each chapter in the books is written from the vantage point of a particular character.  The reader returns to these characters throughout the book, but do not be fooled into thinking any character, and I mean ANY character, is safe or central enough to the plot that s/he won't be killed off.  In fact, as I was told before even diving into the series, if you like a character, that character will probably die and perhaps in a quite horrific death.  Hence, I think I will now start referring to the series as "A Game of Bones."

In light of the fact there is no main character and any protagonist could and does die, the question must be asked, Why read this series?  There are a number of reasons, including:

• an epic fantasy world that rivals if not surpasses Tolkien's Middle Earth in its scope and ancient lore (if not languages)
  
• an adult version of Harry Potter with all of the sex, gore, greed and politics one would expect of adults (I'll also add the scene descriptions do not go on forever like Tolkien nor do the descriptions of food and merriment, like Brian Jacques' Redwall series.)
• an interesting postmodern account where each person's limited perspective often only gives the reader pieces to put together of what is happening
• magic plays a periphery part; the story is more about compelling characters caught up in world-changing events.  But don't be fooled: there is magic, to be sure.

All of these reasons coupled with good writing make for an entertaining treat.  Listening to it on audiobook with Roy Dotrice's world record-breaking voices makes it even better, especially with all of the driving and WOOFing I've been doing lately.  

That said, I'm compelled to continue and complete the series (once the final two books are finished) not simply to find out how it all ends, but because I think Martin is onto something grandeur than we readers - much less our characters - can foresee.  Looking at the titles of the books so far:

1. A Game of Thrones
   
2. A Clash of Kings
   
3. A Storm of Swords
   
4. A Feast for Crows
   
5. A Dance of Dragons
   
6. The Winds of Winter (planned)
   
7. A Dream of Spring (planned; formerly A Time for Wolves)
   

Now I've only read through Book Two, but looking at these titles and considering the series' overall title, A Song of Ice and Fire, I think Martin is peeling back the layers one by one.  Without giving away too much, there seems to be icy threats from the north and fire-y threats from the south/west that come into larger and larger play as the course of events move on.  People are focused largely on a throne in the Seven Kingdoms, but the world is a much larger place than any of them realize.  Events are beyond their control.  They scheme, they fight, they create, they destroy, they live, they die.  They do what they will in a world that seems almost indifferent to them at times.  And ultimately their purpose in life plays a much smaller and different role than they had expected.  Catastrophic chance as well as cold calculation constantly collide, and some survive while others die.  Nothing is for certain, not even the change in seasons.  The story is ruthless, painful, threatens to undue all kinds of meaning or storytelling (at least in the traditional sense).  And yet it is captivating all the same, because, arguably, it is more "real" than most fiction in how it portrays the whims and wills of life with all of its meaning and mystery.  

More writers have been brought in to help finish the series. The added scenes in the television series flesh out the characters and add tantalizing revelations that our limited narrated view does not see or reveal in the books.  Martin wants to write other tales within the Song of Ice and Fire universe.  I'm impressed so far with his Magnum Opus.  The challenge will be to continue to care about characters whose fate and fortune are so very mortal at times, even as their lives soar on the winds of the majestic and the mundane.

It is the new year, and with it come all of the end-of-year summations, highlights and stories.  I was amused if not horrified to read that even less Republicans believe in evolution compared to four years ago, down to 43%.  

After reading the classics Robert Putnam's Bowling Alone and Sam Harris' The End of Faith, I wonder if people identify their religious beliefs not on scientific reasoning but community connections.  Our increased individualistic society is only made worse by internet companies that keep us in what Eli Pariser calls a Filter Bubble.  Yet finding common cause on the internet can create and support shared common values, of the religious or areligious type.

Community is key to believing.  We are influenced by those around us and the sites we visit.  Diversity is important not only to 'keep things interesting,' but also to ensure we do not become stagnant in our beliefs.  If we want to share our beliefs, be they secular or spiritual, it is better to do so through relationship rather than pure reason.

Near Niagara falls, there is a park where the Battle of Queenston Heights was fought.  It was the opening foray of the War of 1812, where American troops crossed the Niagara River and scaled these heights before becoming overwhelmed by the British and forced to surrender.

Fort Drummond, pictured above, was a circular earthworks wall built in 1814 by a British commander (of whom the Fort was named) and for two weeks was used by American Forces during the Battle of Chippewa.  The blue mushroom figure in the background is a fountain of some sort.

I found the whole scene hauntingly poetic... a deserted fort now a deserted fountain... the ghosts of soldiers huddled next to the walls where parents now watch their children play (when they're not on their iDevices!) ... the children, playing and splashing in the water as they dance on the graves of those who fought long ago.

Without getting into the politics of that war nearly 200 years ago, and as we follow the continued civil war in Syria, debating our own involvement, I pray for the day when all battlefields become beautiful like this one.

May swords be made into plowshares.  May forts be made into fountains.