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This site is a member of WebRing. To browse visit here. Friday, November 11, 2005 We're all fond of saying . . . . . . that the radical right is like the Third Reich, or like an abusive marriage, or like some character on The Sopranos. The abusive marriage I know about and can attest to first hand; the others I couldn't swear to. But there is another analogy too. The radical right takeover of our country is like a stealth takeover of a moderate, staid, mainstream church congregation.Here is the church, something traditional in brick or white clapboard with the Sunday School building next to it. The congregation is middle-aged, or maybe a bit past it. The pastor's not much of an arm-waver nor an explicator, but he's always good for at least a couple of stern sin-bashing sermons over the course of a year. The music director's no Bernstein, and the choir is a little thin in the bass section sometimes and maybe a little shrill in the sopranos, but they do their best, and most of the time that's not bad at all. The adult women's Sunday School teacher blushes when she has to read the passages about "fornification," and it's always hard to find someone to lead the teen boys, but pretty much, it's an average Protestant church in an average town or suburb having an average year.One day a new couple comes to visit. They compliment the minister on his sermon, whether it was one of the good ones or not. They say how gracious and friendly everyone is. They even like the coffee and cookies in the parish hall, the same tepid coffee and store-bought sugar cookies that the church has had after the service for the last twenty years. They smile a lot.The next week they're back, with a friend or two. The women offer to help in the nursery. The men talk earnestly about family values. They join the church, and become accepted and liked. Over the course of the next few months, more people drift in here and there, and join, and fill the empty spaces in the pews. The church has a feeling of new energy.The music director agrees that choruses would be fine sometimes, instead of nothing but those old-fashioned hymns. Everyone is a bit taken aback when the new members clap and sway to the lively music, but the rhythm is contagious, and the teenagers certainly approve. One of the women asks her new friends if they'd like to come to a Bible study at her house, just for women, you know. The men tell the pastor that they wish he'd preach more on homosexuals, and Godless liberals, and prayer in public schools. And so it goes, sometimes more slowly than this, and sometimes much faster, depending on how many newcomers there are and how solidly entrenched the existing congregation is. But one day, the new members, and the people they've won over to their ideas, are numerous enough to start pushing in earnest for the laying on of hands, or healing services, or a revival with some well-known charismatic preacher. Some of the long-time members quit in disgust, leaving an even greater majority of stealth takeover members. The pastor is quietly asked to find another pulpit, as he is no longer in step with the congregation.The new pastor manages to get on radio and television regularly, ranting about evolution and gay marriage. The congregation announces it will build an unmarried mothers' home right there in the neighborhood, creating an instant focus for division and name-calling and finger-pointing. The church hosts a "Troop Appreciation Night," with military recruiters on hand, and provides its membership list to the Republican Part to use for mailings.Most of the original congregation doesn't go to church any more. Wherever they went would be too strong a reminder of what they had lost. Friendships and mutually helpful associations that had grown up over years, even decades, are splintered and gone. The older members who needed a ride sometimes, or someone to come and mow a lawn or help with housework, aren't forgotten, exactly, but they are no longer as visible as when they were seen every Sunday morning. People tend to forget to ask about them. This congregation wasn't doing anything all that momentous, but it wasn't hurting anyone either, and now it, and all the community and security and structure and weekly habits that were associated with it are gone. And the church's money now goes to activist quasi-political causes instead of to missions and charities, which was at least part of the intention all along.Like our country, a perfectly good, functional, unexciting but decent institution has been unraveled from within, its assets plundered and its name dragged in the mud. And one day the FBI shows up to talk to the pastor about some pictures on his computer, and the creditors whose bills have been ignored start filing petitions in small claims court, and the elders have no choice but to dissolve the congregation and sell what's left to pay the worst of the bills, and suddenly there isn't any more church on that corner at all, good or bad.We haven't quite come to that last point as a country, but we're awful damn close. posted by Liz @ 7:41 PM | The template is set to display 10 posts. To see all the posts for this month, click on the month name in the Archive section RSS Feed PERSONAL Send email toliz at life-as-a-spectator-sport.com Home I'm a mother, grandmother, a computer professional, Democrat, Christian. I welcome politely worded comments and email, my spam filter throws the rest away, so don't bother to flame me WHY 'LIFE AS A SPECTATOR SPORT' "If you're lucky not to live in the gutters of a slum, but still can't afford to take vacations in the Alps, you're part of that enormous middle class who lives life through the medium of the television, further separated from "real" life by air conditioner, by automobile, by dishwasher, microwave and ice-in-the-door refrigerator, by automatic washer and dryer, and all the other appliances and conveniences that make it possible for America to live life at second hand. I'm not sure why Americans decided that televised drama was better than the real thing, that cardboard microwave food containers were an adequate substitute for real dishes, and their contents for real food, or that cooking, dishwashing and face-to-face conversation wasn't worth the effort and time it required. Someone fed this nation a plastic crate of out-of-season tomatoes and told us it was life and we took them at their word, and we're so much the poorer for it that it's hard to know where to start to list the shortcomings." I wrote this a couple of years ago, but I have to admit it's much less amusing than I thought it would be to see the artifical construct falling apart. THE NON-ELECTRIC HOME Cleaning, 1 Cleaning, 2 Cleaning, 3 KNITTING BLOGS Extravayarnza Knitting Heretic Mind of Winter Pie Knits Persistent Illusion See Eunny Knit The Keyboard Biologist Taleweaver's Ramblings TECHnitting Wendy Knits FINISHED PROJECTS -------FINISHED IN 2006------- Peruvian Cap Tutti-Frutti Socks Shelley's Socks Carol's Socks -------FINISHED IN 2007------- Chain Link Socks Baby Surprise Jacket Valerie & Friend Baby Bonnet Rainbow Baby Socks Girls Pixie Hood Mitred Square Heart Red & White Socks Coffee Cup Pot Holder Nubbins Dishcloth Garterlac Dishcloth Suede Booties Kate's Socks Norwegian Sweet Baby Cap Half Thumbless Mittens Red Mittens for Akkol -------FINISHED IN 2008------- SELF-RELIANCE AND THE FUTURE -- Blogs and websites -- Causubon's Book Club Orlov Food Storage Made Easy From the Wilderness In the Wake Listening to Katrina Survival Topics The Modern Homestead The Oil Drum Notes from a Hillside Farm -- Mailing Lists -- 12vdc Power Living on the Land Rainwater Refrigeration Alternatives Old Ways of Living POLITICAL BLOGS and SITES The political sites have moved BOOKS I'M READING How to Grow More Vegetables, etc. Small Scale Grain Raising ARCHIVES February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 August 2008 July 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007 March 2007 February 2007 January 2007 December 2006 November 2006 October 2006 September 2006 August 2006 July 2006 June 2006 May 2006 April 2006 March 2006 February 2006 January 2006 December 2005 November 2005 October 2005 September 2005 August 2005 July 2005 June 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 January 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 July 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 March 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003 November 2003 October 2003 September 2003 August 2003 July 2003 June 2003 May 2003 April 2003 March 2003 February 2003 January 2003 December 2002 November 2002 October 2002 September 2002 August 2002 July 2002 June 2002 May 2002 April 2002 March 2002 February 2002 Feedjit Live Blog Stats
. . . that the radical right is like the Third Reich, or like an abusive marriage, or like some character on The Sopranos. The abusive marriage I know about and can attest to first hand; the others I couldn't swear to. But there is another analogy too. The radical right takeover of our country is like a stealth takeover of a moderate, staid, mainstream church congregation.Here is the church, something traditional in brick or white clapboard with the Sunday School building next to it. The congregation is middle-aged, or maybe a bit past it. The pastor's not much of an arm-waver nor an explicator, but he's always good for at least a couple of stern sin-bashing sermons over the course of a year. The music director's no Bernstein, and the choir is a little thin in the bass section sometimes and maybe a little shrill in the sopranos, but they do their best, and most of the time that's not bad at all. The adult women's Sunday School teacher blushes when she has to read the passages about "fornification," and it's always hard to find someone to lead the teen boys, but pretty much, it's an average Protestant church in an average town or suburb having an average year.One day a new couple comes to visit. They compliment the minister on his sermon, whether it was one of the good ones or not. They say how gracious and friendly everyone is. They even like the coffee and cookies in the parish hall, the same tepid coffee and store-bought sugar cookies that the church has had after the service for the last twenty years. They smile a lot.The next week they're back, with a friend or two. The women offer to help in the nursery. The men talk earnestly about family values. They join the church, and become accepted and liked. Over the course of the next few months, more people drift in here and there, and join, and fill the empty spaces in the pews. The church has a feeling of new energy.The music director agrees that choruses would be fine sometimes, instead of nothing but those old-fashioned hymns. Everyone is a bit taken aback when the new members clap and sway to the lively music, but the rhythm is contagious, and the teenagers certainly approve. One of the women asks her new friends if they'd like to come to a Bible study at her house, just for women, you know. The men tell the pastor that they wish he'd preach more on homosexuals, and Godless liberals, and prayer in public schools. And so it goes, sometimes more slowly than this, and sometimes much faster, depending on how many newcomers there are and how solidly entrenched the existing congregation is. But one day, the new members, and the people they've won over to their ideas, are numerous enough to start pushing in earnest for the laying on of hands, or healing services, or a revival with some well-known charismatic preacher. Some of the long-time members quit in disgust, leaving an even greater majority of stealth takeover members. The pastor is quietly asked to find another pulpit, as he is no longer in step with the congregation.The new pastor manages to get on radio and television regularly, ranting about evolution and gay marriage. The congregation announces it will build an unmarried mothers' home right there in the neighborhood, creating an instant focus for division and name-calling and finger-pointing. The church hosts a "Troop Appreciation Night," with military recruiters on hand, and provides its membership list to the Republican Part to use for mailings.Most of the original congregation doesn't go to church any more. Wherever they went would be too strong a reminder of what they had lost. Friendships and mutually helpful associations that had grown up over years, even decades, are splintered and gone. The older members who needed a ride sometimes, or someone to come and mow a lawn or help with housework, aren't forgotten, exactly, but they are no longer as visible as when they were seen every Sunday morning. People tend to forget to ask about them. This congregation wasn't doing anything all that momentous, but it wasn't hurting anyone either, and now it, and all the community and security and structure and weekly habits that were associated with it are gone. And the church's money now goes to activist quasi-political causes instead of to missions and charities, which was at least part of the intention all along.Like our country, a perfectly good, functional, unexciting but decent institution has been unraveled from within, its assets plundered and its name dragged in the mud. And one day the FBI shows up to talk to the pastor about some pictures on his computer, and the creditors whose bills have been ignored start filing petitions in small claims court, and the elders have no choice but to dissolve the congregation and sell what's left to pay the worst of the bills, and suddenly there isn't any more church on that corner at all, good or bad.We haven't quite come to that last point as a country, but we're awful damn close.
The template is set to display 10 posts. To see all the posts for this month, click on the month name in the Archive section
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PERSONAL
WHY 'LIFE AS A SPECTATOR SPORT'
"If you're lucky not to live in the gutters of a slum, but still can't afford to take vacations in the Alps, you're part of that enormous middle class who lives life through the medium of the television, further separated from "real" life by air conditioner, by automobile, by dishwasher, microwave and ice-in-the-door refrigerator, by automatic washer and dryer, and all the other appliances and conveniences that make it possible for America to live life at second hand. I'm not sure why Americans decided that televised drama was better than the real thing, that cardboard microwave food containers were an adequate substitute for real dishes, and their contents for real food, or that cooking, dishwashing and face-to-face conversation wasn't worth the effort and time it required. Someone fed this nation a plastic crate of out-of-season tomatoes and told us it was life and we took them at their word, and we're so much the poorer for it that it's hard to know where to start to list the shortcomings." I wrote this a couple of years ago, but I have to admit it's much less amusing than I thought it would be to see the artifical construct falling apart.
THE NON-ELECTRIC HOME
Cleaning, 1 Cleaning, 2 Cleaning, 3
KNITTING BLOGS
Extravayarnza Knitting Heretic Mind of Winter Pie Knits Persistent Illusion See Eunny Knit The Keyboard Biologist Taleweaver's Ramblings TECHnitting Wendy Knits
FINISHED PROJECTS
SELF-RELIANCE AND THE FUTURE
POLITICAL BLOGS and SITES
BOOKS I'M READING
How to Grow More Vegetables, etc. Small Scale Grain Raising
ARCHIVES
February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 August 2008 July 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007 March 2007 February 2007 January 2007 December 2006 November 2006 October 2006 September 2006 August 2006 July 2006 June 2006 May 2006 April 2006 March 2006 February 2006 January 2006 December 2005 November 2005 October 2005 September 2005 August 2005 July 2005 June 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 January 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 July 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 March 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003 November 2003 October 2003 September 2003 August 2003 July 2003 June 2003 May 2003 April 2003 March 2003 February 2003 January 2003 December 2002 November 2002 October 2002 September 2002 August 2002 July 2002 June 2002 May 2002 April 2002 March 2002 February 2002
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