religion

Fixing It: Day Three.

By in Foster Children, Parenting, Philosophy, Relationships, Religion, Spirituality Tags: , , ,

Fixing it 

Because things break. Then they need fixing. They go wrong. Then they need to be made right. 

A crooked painting. Flat tire. Drop your phone and the screen shatters. Things get crooked and punctured and cracked. Then we straighten, repair, fix. 

Same thing with our bodies. Broken femur. High blood pressure. A new virus. So get a cast, change your diet and exercise, (hopefully) find a vaccine. 

The word justice is simply that – the idea of fixing or bringing rectitude to a thing that is broken. Making something right. 

Fixing it. 

Social justice is fixing or brining justice to a social issue. After a hurricane, we bring food and medical supplies to victims. After September 11, 2001, we rushed to ground zero to bring physical relief. 

Much philanthropy consists of people caring for people — feeding the hungry, giving clothes to the naked, helping the sick in body, advocating on behalf of the marginalized.

If you study the life of Jesus, bringing social justice to the poor, sick, oppressed, outsider — this is the great legacy of true religion, caring for widows and orphans, including speaking-up on their behalf to their oppressors.

A kind of social justice consumes my heart daily: social justice toward children.

Of course, children are always innocent and vulnerable, always. Those in foster care — our modern-day orphans — suffer perhaps the worst kind of injustice. It wasn’t a bomb or an earthquake or famine that caused their horror – it was their parent. 

Neglect, abuse, then abandonment, from the one who was supposed to love, protect, nurture. 

It is National Foster Care Awareness Month. I am writing a post each day of May. I wrote on the first and second.

During Covid-19, these children are suffering like never before. Incidents of death due to child abuse are escalating at alarming rates. In a March 24th piece in The Atlantic titled The Kids Aren’t All Right, the social injustice is made clear: 

“For children who spend time in multiple households, rely on outside figures for guidance or mentoring..prolonged social-distancing measures will mean profound separation from some people who provide care.”

It doesn’t have to be so. 

We can bring justice. 

Social justice.

Fixing it. 

For the children, 

Paul 

www.rfk.org

I Love That Jesus Suffered

By in Personal, Philosophy, Religion, Spirituality Tags: , , ,

There are so many things I love about Jesus. And I could write them all down here, but I’m just going to write about this one thing: suffering.

I love that Jesus suffered.

From the very start, we know that his birth was steeped in controversy. Mary was pregnant before she married Joseph. The gossip surrounding that surely plagued Jesus in his early years. He didn’t come from a perfect family. And when kids don’t come from that little perfect family, they suffer. Trust me.

We know he was a refugee. We know Mary and Joseph had to flee for his safety in the same way tens of thousands of families do today from Syria, Afghanistan, Sudan, Myanmar, and Somalia. The Syrian crisis is the most massive humanitarian crisis since WWII.

And of course, in our own neighborhood, families from Central America flee to us for the same reason Joseph and Mary did — safety.

I don’t know about you but it’s weird to think of Jesus and being some refugee kid — but it’s a brute fact.

The scriptures fast forward to Jesus’ last three years on earth. And you want to talk about suffering? For starters, he walked around knowing he was going to be martyred. He was certain about it. He talked about it often. Again, I don’t know about you but being certain you are going to be murdered — that is suffering. 

In The Idiot, Dostoyevsky talked about the guillotine. He talks about the “spiritual suffering” of knowing you were going to die.

“But the chief and worst pain may not be in the bodily suffering but in knowing for certain that in an hour, and then ten minutes, and then in half a minute, and then now…the soul will leave the body and one will cease to be a man and that that’s bound to happen; the worst part of it is that it’s certain.”

Jesus walked around for a long time, certain he’d be murdered.

The shortest scripture in the entire Bible: Jesus wept.

The prophet Isaiah referred to the Messiah, Jesus, as “a man of many sorrows.”

My friend, Pete Wehner, wrote a piece in The New York Times today. He wrote about life as a Christian, given COVID-19, given how there will be no Easter miracle this year with churches packed with people. 

Pete is a real writer and one of the best people I know. 

He writes, “What those of us who are Christians do believe is not only that God entered a world filled with suffering but also that through the incarnation God sided with those who suffer and suffered himself. Jesus grew weary. He grieved. He wept. And in anguish at the Mount of Olives, just before he was betrayed, the Gospel of Luke tells us that Jesus “prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.”

I’m not sure I could be a Christian if it wasn’t for the countless passages in scripture about suffering. 

I love that Jesus suffered.

I’m not sure I could be a Christian if it wasn’t for the fact that many of my spiritual heroes — Job, David, Solomon, Paul, Saint Augustine, Mother Teresa, and, yes, Jesus — spoke with no candy coating about their suffering. Grave suffering. Depression. Grief. Maybe it’s because of the trauma that I experienced in my life — the trauma I’m not yet prepared to write about. But I wrote about coming out of the closet on the limits of faith.

Sixteenth century St. John of the Cross spoke of the “dark night of the soul” — a deep feeling of being abandoned by God. “Both the sense and the spirit,” he writes, “as though under an immense and dark load, undergo such agony and pain that the soul would consider death a relief.”

We Christians must remember the great paradox of our faith: the greatest event, the crucifixion was the most evil event. In his dialogue between a Philosopher, a Jew, and A Christian 12th century philosopher Peter Abelard writes, “The Lord Jesus Christ’s being handed over into the Jews’ hands is mentioned as being done by Jesus himself, my God the Father, and by the traitor Judas.”

Without God being murdered, there would be no resurrection. 

I get concerned when reformed churches basically fast forward through Holy Week to Easter. Not so with the Orthodox, Roman Catholics, Anglicans, Methodists. 

Nobody, even Christians, likes the notion of lament. But I love that Jesus suffered.

I’m all for Easter. I’m all for the joy and pastel colors and happy songs and all the “victory.” The historicity behind of resurrection is undeniable to any serious student of history. And it gives me great hope, 

But if I’m honest, I relate far more closely with the mystery, the pain, the sorrow: Good Friday.

I’m glad that Jesus could, too. 

I love that Jesus suffered.

If Only More People Knew This Jesus

By in Personal, Religion, Spirituality Tags: , ,

I wish more people knew this Jesus.

On Sunday I went church — a local Greek Orthodox parish called Saint Paul’s Greek Orthodox.

I was there to receive a check. I am an advocate for children in foster care and am President of a global organization that works directly with thousands of children of neglect, abuse, and abandonment. 

St. Paul’s is a church with a mission. This year, part of their mission is to help children who need help.

I have attended Saint Paul’s before. Maybe 6 times, on days where I wanted the deepest richness of liturgy. Have you ever attended an Orthodox service? Growing up Roman Catholic, I thought I knew everything about what some might deem “boring church.”

Roman Catholics sit and stand and kneel during their roughly one-hour mass – pretty boring. Reformed churches (non-traditional) make standing optional, but lots of people stand during the worship. You sit and watch during the hour and twenty minuteish service. And they have rock bands and cool videos and techy stuff. Way less boring. 

In the Orthodox churches, you stand — basically for two straight hours. And there’s all this chanting and incense and robes and you feel like you are Greece or Turkey or places like that. 

***

The Orthodox church was created in the 11th century. There was a split between the western church (Rome) and the eastern church (Constantinople) — the Great Schism. Previously, dating back from the time of Jesus, there was one denomination: the “Catholic” or “Universal” church. 

We don’t hear about Orthodox churches here in the west because they are predominately eastern; the Roman Catholics, primarily western. 

Today there are thousands of Christian denominations; the largest is Roman Catholic, then Orthodox, then the Anglican.

I am an Anglican (known in the U.S. as the Episcopal church). Sometimes the Anglican church is called The Church of England. They split from the Roman Catholic church, in the 16th century, for a bunch of reasons, including a divorce. You’ve probably heard that story. 

***

Many pastors and theologians, for centuries, have argued about the purpose of church. The traditional churches (Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Methodist) think in terms of the power of incarnational worship — in certain mental respects, getting your body involved, as a way to lure in your mind and heart. Lots of symbols, and the involvement of your five senses. 

After the Reformation — when Martin Luther, a Roman Catholic priest tired of Roman antics — basically anything that resembled the Roman and Greek churches were ditched. Sola Scriptura became the main idea and it basically means traditions don’t matter – all that matters is the Bible. 

***

I stood and stood and stood and stood with chants and incense and dozens of signs of the cross. My back started to hurt. (My lower back does that when I stand for too long.) But my Roman Catholic roots run deep, and appreciation for the virtue of sacrifice (i.e., pain) kept me on my two feet. 

My friend and mentor Wayne stood to my right, and my youngest son Elliot stood to my left, and I wasn’t about to shame myself in front of them.

I didn’t want to run the risk of dishonoring God, either. I’m not even kidding I still feel guilt like that because of my upbringing.

***

Your mind is bound to wander during any two-hour liturgy when you’re standing basically the whole entire time. If I’m honest, I wanted to shuffle out of there a couple of times. But again, Wayne and Elliot.

But when that happens your mind attaches onto your senses: the sights, the smell, the sounds. That’s what Locke wrote about. The tabula rasa — our blank slate brain that is informed — shaped — by our senses.

The large domed ceiling. That color blue. I didn’t know whether to call it teal or turquoise. I toyed around with chartreuse for a few seconds but concluded that chartreuse was more like a pinkish color. (I’m still not sure, though.)

 I’m not very good at naming novel colors. 

I felt relieved that the Jesus on the ceiling didn’t have blonde hair. 

There were the dark brown wooden pews with no padding.

The lady and two daughters sitting behind us, all dawning black dresses, all looking entirely foreign.  

Most of the people in the dark brown wooden pews had darker hair. 

The walls upfront seemed painted with gold. 

For some reason, I thought about Christmas mornings attending Sunday church (Anglican) at Westminister Abbey. 

The Jesus being baptized in the Jordan wall. I decided to take a photo of him.

I wanted to check my iPhone like a hundred times. 

***

Then I thought about all the rubbish I’ve heard over the years — Roman Catholics aren’t, somehow, Christians. Neither are those who practice rituals. 

It’s the “You don’t worship like us so you can’t possibly be a Christian” bile. 

I was frustrated. I sometimes get frustrated with ignorance.

In my mind I say, “Think about it, for nearly 2,000 years, Christians have worshipped this way. And, today, the vast majority of Christians worship this way.” 

I don’t know who I was talking to – I guess those who think their brand is the only brand: the tribalists. 

***

I listened to the name of Jesus proclaimed countless times by the worshippers at Saint Paul’s Greek Orthodox Church. “Jesus” over and over and over. 

The service was all about God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit. 

***

Then the priest read from the words of Jesus, from the Gospel of Luke. A few minutes after that, Holy Communion. 

Then the liturgy stopped. Two women came to the stage and invited me to join them.

In front of hundreds of faithful Greek Orthodox worshippers: On behalf of Saint Paul’s Greek Orthodox Church, we are honored to bless RFK with a check in the amount of $43,150 to help children in foster care.

I almost fell over. 

***

I don’t remember how I thanked them, but I mentioned Jesus’ words in Matthew 25: “Inasmuch you have done it for the least of these, you have done it unto me.”

It doesn’t get any more “least” than being a child.

Then being neglected.

Then being abused.

And then abandoned. 

Imagine. 

Family induced childhood trauma — we must help those children. 

Saint Paul’s Greek Orthodox helped those children.

Proclaiming and confessing the name of Jesus. Giving to the least of these. Studying scripture. As far as I am concerned, that is about as Christian as it gets. 

***

I will be back in Saint Paul’s Greek Orthodox Church in Irvine. 

I want to go to an Orthodox church in Greece, too. Or, Russia, but I’ve been advised that it wouldn’t be safe for me to travel to Russia because of this.

Please read these words for the Gospel of Luke; they are the most important words on this page. 

If only more people knew this Jesus: 

“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ 

“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

I Have Never Put Political Party Before My Faith. I Never Will. 

By in Politics, Religion Tags: , , ,

 

America first? Not for this Christian. For me, it’s Jesus first.

And what was Jesus about? The children. The poor. The outcast. The traitors and “losers” of society.

Foster children.

I have never put my political party before my faith. I never will.

I have never put loyalty to the GOP above the teachings of Jesus. I never will.

If I’m going to err, I will err on the side of the poor, the outcast, the persecuted.

That’s what Jesus did.

To be Christian means to be Christ-like —  imitate what Jesus said and did.

I ran as a candidate for US Congress. I ran as a Republican in California’s 48th congressional district primary. I was tired of the Democrats being the only ones who spoke out boldly and consistently for human rights, for civil rights, for social justice.

I didn’t advance to the midterm election, which is held today, November 6, 2018.

I didn’t win, but I’m certain I did and I wrote about it here.

Err on the side of the poor. That’s what Jesus did.

Character matters in leadership. Integrity matters in leadership.

Our children and grandchildren watch what leaders do.

Leaders are role models. All of them.

Our children are watching. Our children and grandchildren will remember us by what we stoof for, and stood against.

Republicans and Democrats rarely agree on anything. But in 2012, 92 United States Senators and 89% of House Members voted for a bill called The Magnitsky Act. The bill sanctioned a bunch of rich Russian thugs for torturing and murdering a Russian tax attorney named Sergei Magnitsky. A husband and father with two young children, Magnitsky uncovered a $230 million tax scheme. He tried to expose it to Russian authorities. The thieves didn’t like it. Neither did Vladimir Putin. So they kidnapped, tortured, and murdered Magnitsky.

But so incorrigible was the evidence, that the bill was passed with overwhelming support of both parties.

The next day, as “retaliation,” Putin suspended the adoption of Russian orphans. Many of these orphans suffered for HIV, fetal alcohol syndrome, spina bifida, and other illnesses.

In effect, Putin murdered countless children to “penalize” the U.S. Tens of thousands of Russian citizens took to the streets of Moscow in protest.

Then Dana Rohrabacher, the 30-year congressman who I ran against, went to work. He did everything in his power to lobby for Putin, a man who murders orphaned children, a man who executes his political opponents, even when they live on foreign land. Dana went to Moscow, was given a propaganda video made by The Kremlin that sought to deny the death of Magnitsky. He brought the video back. Tried to show it to members of Congress. They told him — his own Republican colleagues — that the video would not be showed.

So he promoted a public event in DC, the “premiere” of the “documentary.” He worked in tandem with Natalya Veselnitskaya, a Russian lawyer who, by her own admission, is a Russian informant.

Dana has failed. The Magnitsky Act is still the law in the U.S. And the pioneer of the bill — the man who hired Sergei Magnitsky — financier and human rights crusader, Bill Browder, has worked to get the act passed in other countries.

In the early stages of my campaign last year, I learned of The Magnitsky Act. I learned of Browder. I learned of those innocent sick orphans and how Putin had effectively sentenced them to death. Then I learned how Browder had, through his work to sanction these murderers, had become known globally as “Putin’s #1 Enemy” — how Putin wanted him dead.

I marveled with bouts of rage about how a sitting U.S. Congressman would endorse and advocate for the agenda of a murderous dictator. I didn’t purchase any polls to determine what to make my campaign about. I knew what my campaign would be about because I know who I am.

If I’m going to err, I will err on the side of the poor, the outcast, the persecuted.

I made my campaign mainly about Putin’s human rights abuses — the abuse of Russian orphans — and about how our Congressman, my opponent, enabled the thug who sentenced them to death.

Bill Browder formally endorsed me on March 28th of this year:

“Putin has found a backdoor way into American politics through Dana Rohrabacher. Orange County is now one the key flash points in the global proxy war between Putin and the West. Paul Martin sees this and I wish him Godspeed in his quest to stop Putin and Dana Rohrabacher from compromising the integrity of American democracy.”

This was one of the greatest honors of my life. If you don’t know anything about Bill Browder, just google his name. You will be amazed. Because it’s one thing to talk a big game about human rights, it’s another to lay down life for a friend.

Bill Browder with photo of Sergei Magnitsky

I visited the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC a few weeks ago. And I cried. But not when I was on the third and second floors — where you learn of and see photos and video of Hitler’s gruesome mass murder of Jews, dark-skinned people, and homosexuals. I cried on the floor the tour starts — the fourth floor, where you read about the years of Hitler’s attacks on institutions of power, his hate speech, his bigotry, his charismatic promises to restore Germany to economic prosperity. To “Make Germany Great Again.”

One of my mentors is a retired Jewish man. A conservative Jew who teaches Hebrew at his synagogue. I see him often at the local coffee house. I told David about my visit to DC. He had tears in his eyes.

Two days later, I saw him at the local CVS Pharmacy. Our cars were ironically parked right next to each other and when I got out I almost bumped right into him. It was the day after the Pittsburg massacre in the synagogue.

He could not hold back tears.

“Paul, this is not supposed to be happening. My people are scared. Neo-Nazis want to destroy us. There are not ‘very fine people on both sides.'”

I hugged him.

I have never put my political party before my faith. I never will.

I have never put loyalty to the GOP above the teachings of Jesus. I never will.

If I’m going to err, I would err on the side of the poor, the outcast, the persecuted.

“Paul, you give me hope.”

My mentor told me in a CVS parking lot that I give him hope and it humbled me so much.

Sometimes people tell me I need to switch parties, become a Democrat or an Independent. No. Issues of human rights and civil rights and social justice should be championed equally by all political parties.

A friend named Michael Wear worked for President Obama. He headed up his faith-based initiatives program, working closely with many leaders of all faiths. Michael is a devout Christian. And even though he’s a Democrat, he believes people should stay in their parties in order to help reform those parties. He recently wrote a piece in Time Magazine titled Don’t Quit The Republican Party. Stay And Fight. An excerpt:

“When you register to join a political party, there is no fine print that reads, ‘I hereby sign over my conscience to every jot and tittle of my party’s platform.’ There is no loyalty pledge involved.”

I hereby sign over my conscience to every jot and tittle of Jesus‘ platform. Because there is a loyalty pledge required.

 

 

(I saw David this morning at the coffee house. Then I quickly wrote this. I asked if he’d let me take a photo with him. “Paul, I like to stay out of the spotlight but I commend you for using your voice.”)

So Would You.

By in Politics, Relationships, Religion Tags: ,

The refugee stays home and dies, or flees with loved ones to another country. It’s a matter of primitive survival instincts. You and me — we would run for our lives, as the refugee must.

The asylum seekers, like the refugees, flees county to escape war or persecution — they don’t want to die. They don’t want their children to die. But they have yet to achieve refugee status. Recently, the Trump administration said that families fleeing rampant violence of gangs and gov’t corruption cannot seek asylum in the US.

The migrant flees country to seek a better job, to improve standard of living, to join family.

If I was one of them I’d be fleeing.

So would you.

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