Winter, 2 0 0 5                                                                     VOLUME 2, NO. 1

periodic e-news about spirituality, wellness, and the common good
from Interweave Center For Wholistic Living, Summit, NJ

IN THIS ISSUE

Putting God on Trial?
by Lisa Green

Q&A with Rich Lund

Red and Blue Diplomacy:
Debating the Soul of America
by Robert Corin Morris

Interweave Comes to Maplewood

COMMUNITY NEWS

FEBRUARY OFFERINGS

CONTINUING THIS WINTER-SPRING:

New Directions
in Mysticism

Women of 
Sacred Story

Putting God on Trial?
Tsunami Theodicy

If you do an internet search for what caused the tsunami, you will find not just geology but theology—or more specifically, theodicy—the branch of theology that defends divine goodness and justice in the face of the existence of evil. The geological explanation of the disaster is pretty clear-cut. On December 26, the largest earthquake in 40 years hit the Indian Ocean just north of the island of Simeulue . The India and Burma plates, two sections of the earth’s surface which usually slide past each other at the slow rate of 6 centimeters per year, suddenly lurched by as much as 66 feet. Parts of the seafloor jerked up 16 feet, sending waves toward the surrounding coastlines. Fifteen minutes later, fifty-foot waves crashed into Sumatra, and within a few hours, tsunamis hit Thailand, Sri Lanka, India, and Africa, eventually killing nearly a quarter of a million people. The massive quake literally changed the face of the planet, which now spins almost 3 milliseconds faster than before.

 Smaller natural disasters like tornadoes or forest fires, even the relentless hurricanes this summer, do not immediately suggest divine activity to most scientifically-minded people. From a geological perspective, the tsunami was no different—it was just Earth being Earth. But from the standpoint of those who believe that God or some loving Higher Power is involved in human life, it raises questions. “Natural” or not, an event that causes the deaths of countless children, women, and men feels like evil, encouraging many of us to ask “Why?”

 Last week a feature on NPR’s Morning Edition revealed that the struggle to defend God in the face of this massive loss of life is an interfaith one, running the gamut from those who, like one Buddhist monk, believe “this is a totally natural course” to those who believe God willed the tsunami. “It is a question, a problem, a mystery,” said a Roman Catholic bishop. “Sometimes with evil people, some innocent people also perish.” A Hindu spiritual counselor said the tsunami was punishment for something each victim has done in the past; a Baptist pastor claimed “God is calling the world to repent.” A Muslim imam and Reformed rabbi were at opposite ends of the spectrum. “If there is an earthquake, it quakes by the command of its creator,” said the imam. “If the wave forms, every atom in those waves is following the instructions of its creator . . . Allah is a part of the entire process.” The rabbi saw it differently. “God may have known about the tsunami ahead of time, but God could not intervene,” he said. “God does not micromanage the universe.”

Even the medical intuitive and author Caroline Myss proferred an opinion. “Global events–even natural ones–are created through a complex of energies,” she wrote in an email newsletter. “Mother Earth could be feeling the pain of the human condition as much as humanity is–including the pain generated by a build-up of anger and rage in our collective spirit.”

For me, all these explanations—and the “no explanation” alternative—are equally unsatisfying. By their sheer magnitude, cataclysmic events confront us with transcendence and awe—we think of God when the earth shakes, as humans have since the beginning of consciousness. But our notions of divine power and will—and perhaps our illusions of protection—are rattled by the sight of overwhelming death and loss, making our spiritual havens suspect. Like Voltaire, who lost his belief in a benevolent providence when a tsunami struck Lisbon two and a half centuries ago, we despair and doubt, wondering if faith is foolishness in the face of so much suffering.

 Between settling for comforting answers or giving up on God entirely, I think we have a third alternative: trying to live in what the theologian Jurgen Moltmann calls “the pain of the open theodicy question.” Refusing to side either with meaningless accident or divinely-intended disaster, holding the irreconcilable tension of divine power and goodness in the presence of terrible events, we can choose hope in the face of despair, creating a space to encounter Spirit. It’s a painful choice, one that resists resolution—but it invites what the feminist theologian Elizabeth Johnson calls “the presence of divine compassion as companion to the pain.” With such companionship, we are strengthened for our own actions of compassion and mercy.

 After all, as Michael Feshback, the rabbi on NPR puts it, “How we respond to an event is what will give that event its ultimate meaning.” In the end, the most pressing question about the tsunami is not “Why?” but “What next?”                             

—Lisa Green

Q&A with Rich Lund

Certified Health Fitness Instructor Rich Lund has over twenty-five years experience in Tai Chi, Qigong, and meditation. He was recently named to the Board of Directors of the National Qigong Association and will be presenting at their 10th annual conference in Boulder , Colorado this July. Rich will be offering Wellness Through Tai Chi at Interweave for 8 Monday evenings beginning Feb. 7. We asked him to share some of the highlights of his journey.

How did you first hear about Tai Chi?

I was working on my master’s degree in psychology at the Library of Science and Medicine in New Brunswick —this was 1977 or so—and I saw a Tai Chi class practicing outside the library window. I thought it looked interesting so I asked one of the students what it was. The phrase “martial art” piqued my interest, because as a boy I had studied judo at my local YMCA, and for years, my favorite television program was Kung Fu with David Carradine. I enjoyed the fighting sequences, and was intrigued by the philosophy. So in my early twenties I got involved in Tai Chi.

What appealed to you?

I guess the gentleness and the carefree movement appealed to my basic personality. Tai Chi is one of the ultimate martial arts, so it can be very lethal and powerful, but at the same time, soft and gentle. As a moving meditation, Tai Chi turned my life around from an overall health perspective. I stopped eating meat, it gave me renewed energy and kept me calm. Over the years I have continued to develop an enjoyment and satisfaction with life in general, with how I dealt with people. I had been practicing 10-15 years before I started teaching.

You’re also a certified Health Fitness Instructor. How did that happen?

I wanted to teach Tai Chi from an exercise perspective, from a more Western perspective. People in this country are more familiar with aerobic exercise, strength training, health and fitness. So I wanted to teach the principles and practice of Tai Chi in a way that is more familiar to people. For example, relaxation is an important part of an exercise program; people are familiar with that concept. So they can understand some of the same principles of relaxation from Tai Chi. I also wanted to take exercise to another level by incorporating a mind-body component, integrating the science of exercise, health, and fitness with the principles and practice of Tai Chi, Qigong, and meditation.

A graduate program in Exercise Science at Kean College prepared me to be certified as a Health Fitness Instructor through the American College of Sports Medicine. I did two internships in corporate fitness and during the 1980s I taught Tai Chi in over a dozen corporate settings. After that market slowed, I built a studio at my house and started giving classes there and through local adult schools. I also became an exercise physiologist at JFK Hospital Health and Fitness Center , where I have continued to integrate exercise and fitness with the principles of Tai Chi and Qigong. I developed what I call Mind/Body Fitness, qigong postures that model flexibility and strength training exercises—and that’s my unique contribution to exercise and Tai Chi.

What are some of the benefits Tai Chi has given you over the years?

Enjoyment—I realized that I pick vacation spots so that there are always beautiful locations to do my Tai Chi—and spiritual and emotional development as well. More than 25 years ago I was diagnosed with Hepatitis C and a liver condition that is very disabling to some people, with difficult symptoms making them unable to work. But Tai Chi and Qigong keep me strong, giving me the energy to work a full schedule and to enjoy all aspects of my life. That’s what continues to inspire me as well as my students—the ability to participate in one’s health.