The question for me is, how do we love wisdom — philosophia — in the face of impending catastrophe, given the kind of thinking, loving, caring, laughing, dancing animals that we are?
The Centrality of Desire in the Messiness of Human Life, and God’s Too
by Krista Tippett, host
I still have a vivid memory of the first time I interviewed Avivah Zornberg. I had experienced her through the Bill Moyers series Genesis, and through her powerfully, lushly written books about the Bible. I brought one of mine into the studio that day — Everett Fox’s The Five Books of Moses, a translation that sacrifices English clarity to let the visual wordplay of the original Hebrew come through. In the end, I closed my eyes, and did something closer to entering the text than discussing it. That’s what Avivah Zornberg makes possible.
That first time, for Passover, we were looking at the iconic story of Exodus, which has inspired so many people in so many places across time, far transcending its appearance as words on a page. This time, I sat down in her living room in the Old Katamon neighborhood of Jerusalem and began the conversation by wondering where she might want to go. She was as delightful and gracious in her whole being as she is with her voice. We decided to start with the story of Noah and the Flood — chapter 6 in the book of Genesis — and see where it might take us.
This of course is one of those stories that many of us have heard in Sunday school, or seen in Technicolor at the movies, and heard references to and jokes about all our lives. But Avivah Zornberg knows the Hebrew Bible’s actual words and cadences by heart. She approaches it with the foundational mystical text of the Zohar. She applies the ancient Jewish art of midrash, reading between the lines with imagination, poetry, sensuality, and a sense of humor. And she uncovers stories within the story that open up the “biblical unconscious” and speak in unexpected ways to human life.
With her, we see that the biblical flood in some sense un-creates the world that has just been created. But the corruption that led to this undoing was not merely one of fleshly sin and violence; it was a loss of the connective tissue of language between human beings. “They have become so open,” Avivah Zornberg has written of the flood generation, “that they are closed to one another.”
Likewise, in Hebrew, the “ark” into which Noah retreats contains allusions to “word” as well as to “box.” This uncommunicative, self-absorbed man seems, upon closer examination, a strange choice for God to appoint to save all life on Earth. But precisely in his awkward imperfection, Noah embodies one of the qualities I love about the Hebrew Bible. It is an honest, unvarnished account of the messiness of life — the failed and flawed nature even of our greatest leaders. There are no storybook heroes in the Hebrew Bible. They are us, just as they are in real life. So even Noah, in one of those ironies of the human condition, finds himself imprisoned by the box/ark that is his claim to greatness.
That day in Avivah Zornberg’s living room, we walked backwards in Genesis — from Noah and the Flood to the creation story of Adam and Eve and Eden. Here too we find ironies that we recognize at the center of ourselves. From the Hebrew, Eden can also be translated as “delight” — “land of pleasure.” Everything is beautiful and perfect and delicious here. But it is the one tree in the center of the garden, from which God has asked Adam and Eve not to eat, that they desire.
The theme of desire — its centrality in moving human life forward, the way we struggle to both honor and order it — runs throughout Avivah Zornberg’s vision of how this text might tell us the story of ourselves. And, like the Bible itself, she does not condemn the fact of desire so much as seek to understand it. For the consciousness that desire enlivens is also a primary source of awareness and intentionality; it’s our choices that have the power to redeem us, not an impossible striving toward perfection.
I’ll leave you with a line to entice you to listen to my conversation with Avivah Zornberg. She says of the power of Adam’s telling of the first lie:
“Brodsky said consciousness, human consciousness, begins with one’s first lie… That’s when we begin to be aware of the complexity in ourselves and the different impulses. And that’s where poetry comes from as well. You know, not only bad things come from saying two things at the same time. As long as you have a kind of straight unequivocal immaculate version of things, then there can be no poetry and there can be no tension, no desire again. Desire makes itself felt when language comes alive.”
The Vanishing Ego in Painting: An Interview with Painter Joan Watts
by Kim Russo, guest contributor
On a gloriously sunny Memorial Day in 2008, I arrived at the Santa Fe studio of painter Joan Watts. I was there to interview her for a review in a local newspaper. She led me into her impressive studio where her newest paintings, in cool gradations of blue, purple, and gray, lined the warm, white walls. As we talked, a friendship based on our mutual experiences in the studio and on the meditation cushion began.
When she moved to Santa Fe from New York in 1986, the New Mexico landscape became the influence critics and curators referenced when discussing her reductive paintings. Writers used words like “ephemeral” to describe the luminosity of her paint, or “meditative” to describe her subtle formal choices — all outcomes, they suggested, of her examination of the southwestern landscape. I wondered if, instead, the New Mexico landscape gave Watts — a practitioner of Zen since 1989 — the vehicle for relating the spiritual experiences she had on the meditation cushion and in her daily life.
So which is it Joan? Are these landscape paintings that are about meditation, or meditative paintings that are about the landscape?
(laughing) Well, the light of New Mexico has certainly been a penetrating vehicle enveloping my spiritual path, but it is also true that my spiritual path propels me to somehow discover the means to evoke light and space through painting. It’s true that after beginning my Zen meditation practice the process of making a painting also became a form of meditation for me.
Can you describe that?
Now when I begin a painting, I get started in the process and then let go. The painting takes over, and I disappear. But the moment before the ego drops is pure fear. It is the same experience in sitting meditation, when the ego drops away.
Do you think your paintings describe that experience of the ego disappearing?
Can a painting embody or transmit Buddhist experience? I don’t know. Can you convey something of your experiential state to the audience? I don’t know. It depends on the viewer.
Transmission between (Buddhist) teacher and (Buddhist) student is about both of them, but both of them becoming one. With art we have an object. Is there anything embodied in that object through which some transmission happens for the viewer? I don’t know. But the same things get in the way of the transmission between viewer and art object as Buddhist teacher and student: ego, assumptions, intellectual understanding, education.
That reminds me of when I saw the Rothko Chapel for the first time. When I entered and saw the huge black canvases, I didn’t understand why anyone would present black paintings of nothing to represent a spiritual space. I grew up in a Presbyterian church full of stained glass and light. I didn’t understand Rothko’s chapel at all. I sat there for a long time really looking at the work. Then I saw it: the paintings weren’t black — they were purple, blue, green, red — and they slowly revealed themselves to me. It was an experience that changed as my position in the room changed. I thought: Wow, this is what spiritual realization is like: slow, changing, and constantly transforming. Spiritual life is an experience, not a concept. Rothko had created an experience for me rather than showing me a picture. That was life-changing for me.
I visited that chapel several times after my mastectomy and also had a powerful experience with the work. Seeing the Rothko Chapel was healing for me, and it was the beginning of my meditation practice, although I didn’t know it at the time. It is interesting how you entered the chapel with an attitude and you got very conceptual and mental — What is going on? Why black in a church? — all assumptions based on previous experiences, and then the present moment went CLUNK!
Do you have the same experience while you are painting?
Yes. I think in the creative process itself, when it goes really well, the artist is gone during the process — and later the artist can reflect. But the reflection is not the experience. It’s a memory, which is not the actual making.
So you are moving in and out of a kind of meditative state.
You can experience life as a coming into and out of the ego-self, or you can be only in the ego-self, which is like the Xerox copy — this is what I want and this is what I expect. The ego-self is conceptual. In-the-moment, non-conceptual experience can be scary. Non-conceptual experience is never a Xerox copy of anything else you have experienced.
I want to talk a little bit about how your meditation practice has changed how you function within the art market.
I don’t have to worry about supporting myself financially. But for me there was an interesting relationship with my ego because I felt I had to make a big presence in the art world. That is why I made a business plan, I set up exhibitions, and I made the monograph of my work, which took three years. But getting the work out in the world is ego-based. I can’t work in both places at once, the art world and the studio.
Is it possible, really, to completely detach from the ego? Or is it only possible to keep it in check?
Some day I’d like to get free of the business and just work — but there is an ego base that creeps back in. My mom played gorgeous piano every day by herself because she just enjoyed it, and she composed music. She didn’t try to put it in the world. When I was a kid, I thought that if I was in her shoes I’d get it out there in the world. Now I really admire what she did.
I had a conversation with the Santa Fe photographer Herb Lotz after his recent retrospective exhibition. I asked him if he thought it was successful. He said he was really glad he had the opportunity to do it and now he doesn’t ever have to do it again. I remember being blown away by his answer. It was filled with gratitude — and no attachment.
About the images: The paintings featured above are part of Joan Watts’ One series, 24 x 24 inches, oil on canvas, 2008. (photos: Herb Lotz)
Kim Russo is an artist, writer, and Head of Fine Arts at Ringling College of Art and Design in Sarasota, Florida. She has written for the Journal Santa Fe and Pasatiempo, and is currently working on a book, funded by the Frederick P. Lenz Foundation, about how Buddhist practice can help contemporary artists negotiate the ego-traps of the studio and the art market.
We welcome your reflections, essays, videos, or news items for possible publication on the Being Blog. Submit your entry through our First Person Outreach page.
I would definitely say that Creole is a really good example of what American is, because it shows how all these different things came together, and after a couple hundred years, what came out of it. It’s no longer African, it’s no longer French, it ain’t no longer Acadian, it ain’t no longer Spanish. It’s a culture of its own.
A Twitterscript of Lord Martin Rees Interview
by Susan Leem, associate producer and Trent Gilliss, senior editor
Professor Rees gives The Reith Lectures 2010 (photo: The Reith Lectures/Flickr, cc by-nc-nd 2.0)
Rees’ calls for peaceful coexistence between believers and non-believers has made waves among atheists. He raised more hackles recently by accepting this year’s Templeton Prize (joining the ranks of past winners Mother Teresa, John Polkinghorne, and Billy Graham). He has one foot in each world as an atheist who is devoted to the cultural, “tribal” experience of attending church.
As a highly credentialed scientist, Lord Rees has studied and pondered the mysteries of black holes and separate universes, but what placed him on our radar is his concern for science’s impacts on human beings. He is a rare individual in that his sense of mystery and wonder for distant worlds and other forms of life doesn’t eclipse his awe of humankind.
He argues that even science is not unassailable, and its truths can be quite difficult to grasp. In fact, the mere questions that scientists ask today could not have even been imagined 30 years ago.
We live-tweeted highlights of this 90-minute conversation, which we’re aggregating and reposting for those who weren’t able to follow along. Follow us next time at @BeingTweets:
Gazan Doctor Renews Commitment to Forgiveness and Peace after Losing Three Daughters
by Kate Moos, executive producer
As we began to drill down on our editorial planning for next month’s production trip to Israel and Palestine, Trent asked me to sit down with Izzeldin Abuelaish, a Palestinian physician who has written a new memoir about growing up in the Gaza Strip, his struggles to become a doctor, and the loss of three of his daughters to an Israeli mortar in the hostilities between Hamas and Israel of 2009. I Shall Not Hate: A Gaza Doctor’s Journey on the Road to Peace and Human Dignity is recently published, and he was making a swing through the Twin Cities on book tour.
So I dusted off my rusty interviewing skills, tried to emulate the masterful Krista Tippett with my deep listening, and the 30-minute conversation above ensued.
Abuelaish’s story would be heroic in many ways without his personal loss, but is even moreso because, in its wake, he renewed his commitment to forgiveness and acceptance, and now travels the world on a mission for peace in the name of his daughters, for whom he created a foundation.
Let us know what you think about this interview, and share your thoughts on others you’d like to see, in what we hope will be a regular feature here on the blog.
(photo: Trent Gilliss)
Egyptian-American Coptic Christian Woman Celebrates Christmas with Renewed Meaning: An Interview with Monica Youssef
by Susan Leem, associate producer
+ Trent Gilliss, senior editor
Every January 7th in accordance with the Julian calendar, Coptic Orthodox Christians in North America celebrate the holiday of Christmas. But this sacred time is filled with solemnity, mourning, and fear — and also a deepening resolve and hope — for many Copts one week after the New Year’s Eve bombing of a Coptic church in Alexandria, Egypt killed 21 worshippers.
Copts are the largest religious minority in Egypt, making up nine percent of the country’s population the BBC reports, and are considered by many scholars to be direct descendants of Egyptians from the time of Jesus.
But more than one-quarter of Coptic Christians live in the rest of the world. And hundreds of Coptic churches can be found in the United States, including Saint Mary’s Coptic Orthodox Church in the suburb of South Saint Paul in Minnesota. We asked Monica Youssef, a 20-year old member of this parish who is president of the University of Minnesota Coptic Orthodox Christian Association, to reflect on this year’s Orthodox Christmas celebration.
Could you share a bit about your personal experience in the Coptic Orthodox Church: Where you grew up? How you came to the faith? What is it like to be a Coptic Christian in the United States?
Both of my parents came to the U.S. from Egypt about 25 years ago. They met and got married in Pennsylvania, and then moved to St. Paul so my father could study for his Ph.D. in Mechanical Engineering at the University of Minnesota. My older brother John, younger sister Mary, and I were all born here in St. Paul and have lived here our whole lives.
My father and mother have always been very faithful Coptic Christians, and have raised us all in the same manner. We were baptized in the Church a few months after being born, following one of the sacraments of the Coptic Orthodox Church. This love for our faith has flourished within us to such a degree that being a Coptic Christian has now become the essence of our lives.
It’s funny though, not many people may even know that about me — except for when January 7th or a week in April comes around, where my response to all of my friends is, “Gotta go to church!” And I get questions like, “You celebrate Christmas twice? Lucky!” or “A 10-hour service? How is that even possible?” I always enjoy sharing my faith with others who have never heard of it, or even some who just want a personal viewpoint. On the other hand, it’s always so much fun to connect with other Coptic youth across the U.S. at conventions or retreats that are held throughout the year in several different states. It’s as if we are all one big family, even if we’ve never met — the almost identical lifestyles, beliefs, and values we share are one the many reasons why it is a joy to be a Copt.
Today is Christmas within the Coptic Church. Most of us know very little about your faith tradition, including that Christmas is celebrated at a different time than most Christians celebrate the holiday in the United States. Could you describe some of the rituals and festivities that you and your family celebrate at your home and at your local church?
In one way we get to celebrate Christmas twice. Having the 25th off from work and school is always a great time to get together with family and friends in the spirit of the season. But it is actually January 7th where we celebrate the true meaning of Christmas — the glorious birth of Our Lord Jesus Christ. This is because the Copts go by the Julian calendar, rather than the Gregorian calendar (which is used throughout the world today).
The festivities actually start to begin around the second week of December (or the beginning of the Coptic month Kiahk), where churches across the globe offer their hearts to God singing a selection of praises and spiritual songs which are central to the birth of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and are so called “Kiahk Praises”.
Then on January 6th, Copts gather at church in the evening and pray the Holy Liturgy that goes up to midnight. The end of the Nativity fast, in which we abstain from dairy, meats, and poultry, is marked upon receiving the blood and body of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the sacrament of communion (occurring around midnight).
Tons of “Happy feast!” greetings are passed along to one another, as Copts leave the church and head home to partake in the first meal of meats, cheeses, eggs, and chicken — typically prepared in a traditional Egyptian manner. Soon, everyone becomes tired and then sleeps to reenergize for the next day of celebration. Church members gather again at church the next day to celebrate Christmas together; this usually is just a social hour with some food. Because Christmas is fixed to January 7th and may fall during the week, it is the following Sunday where church members hold a special Christmas program of singing, skits/plays, and a dinner after the Holy Liturgy. Kids get presents, hundreds of the same pictures are taken from several different cameras, and smiles are spread all over.
You mentioned the phrase “Happy feasts!” is offered in Arabic. Could you share the transliteration so I could share it with our readers? Oh, the transliteration in Arabic is either "Kola sana wenta tayeb!" (to a male) or "Kola sana wentee tayeba!" (to a female).
You’re attending the University of Minnesota right now, correct? Is there a Coptic community at the university that you’ve become friends with?
The Copts that I know there are my friends that I have grown up with at church, actually, so before a member of my church enters the University of Minnesota, he/she already has a few friends there. This is because there is only one Coptic Church within Minnesota, and it is located in South St. Paul. So, because all of us are centralized at one location, we all know each other fairly well.
We are a registered student group, Coptic Orthodox Christian Association, where we gather once a month and discuss a spiritual topic. We are now incorporating regular volunteer activities within the community.
What impact has the New Year’s Eve bombings in Alexandria, Egypt had on your personal Coptic community (at school or outside of school)?
In one aspect, the bombing in Alexandria is heart-wrenching. Even if we do not know those killed or injured, I know that both others and I alike feel as though our own family was hurt. The Coptic community across the globe shares a way of life similar to one another. By and large, we talk, look, and pray like one another, whether in Egypt, Australia, Europe, or the U.S. Seeing the film of the bomb impact at the end of the service was terrifying. It almost looked like the church that I have attended my whole life.
Before midnight mass at Abassiya Cathedral in Cairo, Egyptian Coptic Christians hold a banner reading, “Our church is always for martyrs, free people not afraid of death.” (photo: Mohammed Abed/AFP/Getty Images)
This event happened just short of the first-year anniversary of six Copts killed in a shooting after the Coptic Christmas liturgy on January 7, 2010 in a city of Egypt called Nag Hammadi. Our Church aches because of the innocent suffering of our brothers and sisters in Egypt, and it is happening at a time where we should be celebrating the incarnation of Our Lord Jesus Christ. However, in no way do we lose heart or faith. Such an event has strengthened our prayers as we lift our hearts to God asking for His mercy and for peace in the world. We learn from these martyrs that our lives are with God, and that at any moment we too may be face to face with death.
For me, personally, this devastation has strengthened my faith, and I trust that He will deliver His people and justice will be served according to His will — whether on Earth or in heaven:
“I will love You, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, my strength, in whom I will trust; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised; So shall I be saved from my enemies.” (Ps. 18:3)
My God is compassionate, merciful, and loving God, and I know that He hears the cries of His children. Our faith and our trust can only be confirmed in Our Lord.
“The Lord also will be a refuge for the oppressed, A refuge in times of trouble. And those who know Your name will put their trust in You; For You, Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You. Sing praises to the Lord, who dwells in Zion! Declare His deeds among the people. When He avenges blood, He remembers them; He does not forget the cry of the humble.” (Ps. 9:9-12)
We know that there is a problem, but now is the time for us to come together as one soul, and one body, and offer our hearts to God. He is the only one, in a time like this, who can intercede on our behalves, help us, protect and save us, and avenge our troubles.
“Vengeance is Mine, and recompense; Their foot shall slip in due time; For the day of their calamity is at hand, And the things to come hasten upon them.” (Deut. 32:35)
Both Copts and Muslims in Egypt took to the streets in protest this month. Have you always been aware of that tension or is this the first time you’ve seen it in such a public display?
Similar protests occurred throughout the U.S. and Canada after the shooting in Nag Hammadi last year. It is right for us to voice that such treatment in Egypt is wrong, but I do not agree with this manner. It is true, this tragedy has devastated each and every one of us, but as a priest in Egypt has recently said in light of these attacks, “If you want to state your opinion, state it, but in a calm and peaceful manner. God has taught us to fight Satan, to fight evil, with prayer. We pray to God in our churches, not in the streets.”
Can you describe how you felt watching the funeral procession on Egyptian television?
I couldn’t hold my tears. I saw casket by casket by casket lined up before clergy, who were praying on them. A sight like that is mortifying but truly causes each Copt to pray harder. Those killed are our brothers and sisters. We must remember that although their lives on Earth may be over, Heaven is rejoicing for the arrival of 21 martyrs. This is our faith: our lives on Earth are a mere glimpse compared to our eternal lives. It is a reminder that we must work towards obtaining that eternal life with Our Father.
What particular ritual, song, icon, or a moment during Christmas services or a distinct family tradition might resonate more deeply and intimately with you during this season?
I, personally, always get so caught up in the particular feast day that we may be celebrating — whether Christmas or Easter — and I sometimes overlook the meaning of the holiday, becoming so overjoyed with the holiday’s arrival itself. This year, I feel as though it’ll be the exact opposite. The aura among the Coptic Christian Church, worldwide, is still somewhat shaken. Many congregations will be walking into churches with security, police officials, or other protective measures taken that are extremely out of the ordinary. But the beauty about the Coptic Church is the strong faith of its believers.
So this Christmas, each service and each tradition will be taken wholeheartedly to such a greater depth than years past. Every word to be prayed throughout the holy liturgy will resonate within our hearts, will strengthen our prayers, and will fill us with a heavenly and glorious joy. The greetings at church will be with such warmth and love, and time spent with family will prove itself more precious and more valuable than ever before.
This Christmas, we’ll truly be connected as one family, one body, through our gracious and perfect Father. As His Holiness Pope Shenouda III, Pope and Patriarch of Alexandria and the leader of the Coptic Church has said, “We will celebrate Christ’s birth no matter the circumstances or problems we face.”
“Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10)
We welcome your reflections, essays, videos, or news items for possible publication on the Being Blog. Submit your entry through our First Person Outreach page.
A Twitterscript with the Chief Rabbi of the British Commonwealth
by Shubha Bala, associate producer
On October 15, 2010, Krista interviewed Lord Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of the British Commonwealth, during our trip to Emory University for a conference called “The Pursuit of Happiness” with the Dalai Lama. We are producing an hour-long radio show and podcast of this face-to-face conversation that will be available on Thursday, November 11th.
We streamed live video of this interview and also live-tweeted (@Beingtweets) some of the highlights. We’ve gathered them together for you in the form of a Twitterscript:
- Krista is starting a live interview with Chief Rabbi of the Commonwealth @rabbisacks. Watch at onbeing.org and follow our tweets
- "God never sets us problems that can’t be solved" - Rabbi Sacks on the problems we face in the 21st century
- "Most people are struck by the history of Jewish suffering. I’m struck by the history of Jewish recovery from suffering" @rabbisacks
- Rabbi Sacks has some engaging ideas…that exceed 140 characters. Watch Krista interviewing him right now: onbeing.org/soflive
- "I don’t think the logic of scarcity applies to God. A parent doesn’t love just one kid." @rabbisacks on the dignity of religious diversity
- "Don’t think we can confine God into our categories…God is bigger than religion." -@rabbisacks Watch live at onbeing.org/soflive
- @rabbisacks on Orthodox Jewish rapper @matisyahu “Everyone can relate to him, Jewish or not, because he’s so unique.” http://bit.ly/as33L8
- "Any real religious ritual will receive new meaning with every passing age" @rabbisacks explaining Passover rituals’ modern day significance
- "It’s when you can feel your opponents pain that you begin the path to reconciliation." @rabbisacks on ending violence through communication
- "We are in an age where we’re solving the mysteries of nature, but not yet of ourselves. That is the challenge God has given us."@rabbisacks
(photo: Trent Gilliss)
LIVE Video: One-on-One with Geshe Thupten Jinpa, the Man Beside the Dalai Lama
by Trent Gilliss, senior editor
date: Monday, October 18th, 2010
time: 4:15 p.m. EDT
duration: 60 minutes
On Friday, she interviewed the chief rabbi of the United Kingdom, Lord Jonathan Sacks. On Sunday, Krista led an absolutely invigorating discussion with Dalai Lama (listen to audio) and other great religious leaders from the Muslim, Jewish, and Christian traditions. And, this afternoon, an intimate conversation with the Dalai Lama’s right-hand man, so to speak.
Watching the Dalai Lama with his English translator Thupten Jinpa is more like observing an intimate conversation than an interpretation of words. This former monk, now married with children, is also a scholar in his own right. With him, Krista will explore some of the intricacies of Tibetan understandings of the mind and meditation, as well as his front row seat on the Dalai Lama’s teachings and charisma.
We’re continuing to bring you as many behind-the-scenes perspectives as we can, and this live video stream is one more step in that effort. When you can, join us here or on our live events page for real-time conversation with other viewers. You can leave comments and bounce ideas off of others with our Facebook chat module. Check it out! And, we’ll continue to send real-time updates when the stream goes live on our Facebook page and through our Twitter stream. Keep an eye out!