I am trying to follow the Synod of Catholic Bishops taking place this month in Rome. I think "chaotic" is the most appropriate appellation describing the newspaper accounts of the various and varied goings on.

In the minds of those in attendance, who have given vent to their frustration, there is a sense that the survival of Roman Catholicism as it has been known over two millenniums is at risk. Why is it that any suggestion of change or development in our understanding of gender or marriage is perceived as a threat to the very existence of the Church and the human race? A rather cursory view of history provides ample evidence that both have not only survived, but even thrived, following previous periods marked by similar cataclysmic threats. I am inclined to interpret these contemporary reports of impending doom as one too many cries of wolf by a frightened little boy or a little boy's desperate plea for attention. Gender and marriage are phenomena shared between theology, sociology, and political organization. The great diversity of the human experience over the last 200,000 years and within contemporary societies provide ample evidence of the creative potential in gender role and pair bonding strategies. This creativity can extend to a community's ability to craft the theosophical underpinnings in support of their choice. If the Synod would be discussing transubstantiation, the divinity of Christ, or the afterlife of the individual, then I would agree that Roman Catholicism, as we know it, may be at risk to a terminal overhaul.

There are also mysterious bits in the reports coming out of the Synod or in the comments of those in attendance. Today an Australian archbishop speaks of finding a third way in between things staying the same and things changing.  I sense there is something in that comment that defies the logic of language; things either change or they don't change. Is there a third alternative where things both stay the same and change? Or where things neither stay the same nor change? Language as symbol may be simply incapable of expressing the fullness of reality. The inherent contradiction exists in human language and not in reality. Those Synod participants, who decry changes in language as suggestive of the lack of any and all objective truth, may well be onto something. Truth may well exist in some objective fashion; it is just that human language--any attempt to expound on that truth through the use of the symbols of speech--is not absolute. It is not the be all and end all of any or all communication that one might have with another or with his/her internal self.

It appears to be time to post a blog entry on the topic of my latest reads simply because I find myself thinking a lot about the one recently finished and the one in process.

I found Close to the Bone by Jean Shinoda Bolen, MD at the local resale shop. The subtitle is Life Threatening Illness as a Soul Journey. (I drop by this shop every week or two in order to peruse the used book selection for interesting titles.) Dr. Bolen cited a work by Bernie Siegel, MD in her book. As fortune would have it, I found that title (Love, Medicine, and Miracles) a few weeks later at the local library's used (read: "need to get rid of") book sale. The subtitle of Dr. Siegel's work is: Lessons Learned about Self-Healing from a Surgeon's Experience with Exceptional Patients.

I am not sure why I felt moved to lay out 99 cents plus tax for Dr. Bolen's book. I am inclined--No, I am driven--to avoid such New Age lingo as soul journeys, inner journeys, spirit guides, and dreamscapes. Maybe I just wanted to give a pass to one who describes herself as a psychiatrist and a Jungian analyst. I knew that I was in new territory when I read: "At the level of Soul we are all one and the same one" (Dr. Bolen) and when a miracle is described as "a self-induced cure." (Dr. Siegel) Maybe it wasn't new territory; it certainly was someplace that I hadn't visited for some time and then under circumstances quite different than those in which I currently find myself. By the way, Dr. Siegel's book cost 50 cents with tax included.

I did not come away from Dr. Bolen's book as a confirmed believer in Jungian psychology. I was very impressed how she addressed in a true and unabashed ecumenical style Christian beliefs, Greek and Roman mythologies, and the remnants of the pre-patriachical myths among others. She shed light on a question and its answer that I have not previously seen addressed, that is, the origin of the concept of the Christian Trinity or Triune God. The roots of monotheism can be found in North Africa before finding its way into the Middle East. A triune godhead is unquestionably out of sync with Jewish and Muslim thought. According to Dr. Bolen, the concept of a triune deity can be traced to the pre-patriachical myths of Mediterranean Europe. This forerunner was a female figure (mother, maiden/daughter, grandmother/wise one) before being transitioned to a male figure in Greek mythology. I accept Dr. Bolen's premise that a life threatening illness puts one on a soul journey. One doesn't get to choose whether or not to take such a journey; one's choice is how that travel will proceed and where it will lead.

Dr. Siegel follows in the tradition of Viktor Frankl assuring readers that we may not be able to control that which happens to us, but that we can control our response to that which happens thereby directly and significantly influencing the impact upon ourselves of that which happens. Furthermore, he proceeds to tell us how that can be accomplished.

A final word of caution: don't confuse Dr. Siegel's book with Louise Erdrich's book simply titled: Love Medicine. The latter is also a good read--a tale of inter-generational journeying.

It is curious how a reading on one topic prompts one to think of another topic. A recent article on the Religious Dispatches website did just that. 

http://religiondispatches.org/nightly-news-turns-to-bishops-about-contraception-more-often-than-docs/

I found myself thinking about the upcoming, much touted, and equally maligned papal encyclical on the environment and, more specifically climate change. Can we or will we get it right this time? Will the best of contemporary science form the underpinnings of and serve as guidance for the discussion of environmental concerns and the proper responses by humankind? As we have seen in the six decades of discussion of reproductive health, social, political, cultural, philosophical, and theological perspectives have most often held sway over good science--the knowledge of how things are and how they work. The above article is evidence of how little emphasis is placed on a clear and thorough understanding of the nature of things before we go about crafting social convention, stake out political and moral positions, and fit new knowledge within the context of existing knowledge. There is little reason for confidence that any future discussion of reproductive health in the public square will be any different than the typical discussion seen to date.

Maybe we can get it done better this time. The public will need to challenge the press and those who propose to address the topic as experts. The challenge is to demand to see the evidence of the science that underpins their respective positions. If the science presented is not supported by an adequate evidence base, then it--the science--and the accompanying social, political, cultural, philosophical, or theological position are to be set aside in favor of those founded on the best science at our disposal. In recent years, there are those within the scientific community who are increasingly willing to confound those employing questionable science to support equally questionable positions. Anyone proposing to speak in the public square can and should expect a similar challenge.

Another month has passed and another Tree Board meeting has been logged. There are pictures to prove it.

http://artsbayfieldalmanac.blogspot.com/2015/05/when-to-remove-support-stakes-from.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+ArtsBayfieldAlmanac+%28Art%27s+Bayfield+Almanac%29

The tree puller never left the truck until Art was back home. The steel posts had not been driven that deep and there was enough moisture in the soil so post extraction by the pre-puller method worked just as well. It may also have proved to be a lot safer for me. The puller is designed so that it folds over onto itself, I suspect, to make it neat and tidy to store and transport. At the same time, there are lots of places to pinch one's fingers.

The pulled posts did not end up in my yard where they might be expecting a reincarnation as urban poultry fencing. They were returned to the landscaper, who had planted the trees and staked them at that time.

Reading Art's blog--not just looking at the pictures--will eliminate any excuse one has for improperly staking trees and failing to remove them in a timely manner. With a little information, anyone can pass as an arborist and possibly some day grow up to be a member of the local tree board.

This morning I attended the monthly meeting of the municipal tree board, of which I am a member. I don't have any particular knowledge or expertise to qualify me as a member of that renown body except that the chairman, who holds the title of city forester, lives one block down. I often encounter Art as he walks his dog in the morning and as I am taking my dog-less walk. My sense is that he has decided that I am appropriate for membership on the tree board simply because his dog seems to tolerate me ever so easily. Another tree board member lives one block over, and we often make garbage and recyclable disposal a joint activity. Howard is also supportive of my membership on the board probably related to my tolerance for garbage. I have been known to fire up a chainsaw in my backyard on occasion and, more importantly, there are trees remaining in my back, as well as front yard. That may give me some street creed with the tree board folks. It speaks well of one to be known as a pruner and not a logger.

There are four members of the tree board from the city's third ward out of a total of seven members.  Clearly the third ward is over-represented. Either the city council ignored that imbalance or decided it was not pertinent when they approved my appointment to the board. I do have a letter from the city clerk informing me that the common council approved my mayoral appointment to the tree board. The letter makes no mention of the rights and privileges associated with the position, so I can only assume that a second letter is forthcoming.

One item on this morning's agenda was the selection of tree cultivars to be purchased for this spring's planting. I realized I was reaching when I suggested shrubbery of some kind to improve the appearance of a key corner and to stabilize a steep bank. The chairman took the suggestion in stride and noted that it was worth considering. Howard, on the other hand, stated in jest that he wanted nothing to do with a tree and shrubbery board; he only wants to be known as a member of the tree board. There was no further discussion of the topic, but I am quite confident that the chairman will order dwarf lilac or something similar for the area in question. Later in the day, I sent Howard an email admitting that I may well be stature sensitive and attributed his comment to his six foot plus frame. Furthermore, whether something is a tree or not has little to do with height. The dictionary describes tree as a woody perennial with a single stem and branches. Shrub is included in the definition more-or-less as a synonym.

I went on to chide Howard--friends can get away with such nonsense--that the Land of Little Sticks is a case in point. Drawing a comparison to the relative differences in our heights, I noted that small or dwarf trees have their rightful place in a northern clime. Pursuing this logic I went on to suggest that short folks may be more native to the local area than taller folks, which makes the latter an interloper--an invasive subspecies, if you will. I have yet to hear back from Howard, I suspect that he is crafting an ingenious repartee. Or he simply may have better things to do than humor me.

I do have a comeback in the ready. I will argue that the inclusion of understory species in our plantings is most appropriate.

Four Wisconsin stories have made the national news this past week. Number 1: (and in no particular order) Governor Walker's 2016 presidential primary campaign. Number 2: the passage of right to work legislation by the legislature and the governor's signature on the same. Number 3: the death of T. Robinson, a 19-year old Madison resident. And number 4: the Slenderman homicide case where the two accused 12-year olds are being charged as adults. (Wisconsin law states that anyone age 10 or older accused of a serious crime is to be charged as an adult. The court can be petitioned to return the case to juvenile court. Those petitions, as in this case, are often not successful.)

I have a sense that there is a common thread to these four stories, but I am at a loss to put it into words. Here is my attempt to do just that: when it comes to individual responsibility the state will hold its citizens to that standard to the nth degree even when the citizen in question is a pre-teen 12-year old or a troubled 19-year old young adult. Employees are to be free of supposedly onerous union dues and left without a workplace advocate. Are we not making a mockery of individual responsibility?

What might it mean when one grows up in a family where ring bologna and liverwurst were considered "treats"? What more might it mean when one marries a woman who also considers liverwurst a "treat" and who insists on referring to farm sausage as ring bologna? (I will concede that there may be no substantive difference between ring bologna and farm sausage except for a minor difference in appearance and a name designed as a marketing ploy.)

Extrapolate these observations how you will. To say the least, there is consistency on my part. It may also explain, in part, why this marriage has passed the 43 year mark and continues on towards number 44. I also know enough to bring home a treat now and again. Yesterday was one of those now and again days. A chunk of liverwurst was the impulse buy of the day. It resulted in a more effusive reaction than some of my previous gifts. Now what does that say?