Historical Interest

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We’re Not An Experiment Anymore

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure  (Gettysburg Address)

Abraham Lincoln offered this perspective at the lowest moment of the Civil War, but he lived to see the nation endure as one nation.  The American experiment, “whether that nation . . .can long endure” was fulfilled. We could argue that the 13th, 14th and 15th Amendments, Women’s suffrage, and the Voting Rights Act were were all part of the experiment, but those were confirmations of the experiment that survived the Civil War along with the afterthought of Reconstruction.

An experiment is “an operation or procedure carried out under controlled conditions in order to discover an unknown effect or law, to test or establish a hypothe sis, or to illustrate a known law” [Merriam Webster’s Dictionary].  We have discovered that the nation could endure the assault on its principles.  We have tested the hypothesis with one hundred seventy years of confirming evidence. We have illustrated what was only a hypothesis at the writing of the Declaration of Independence.

It is self-indulgent to call us the “American Experiment.” We are past experimenting and well into the stage of confirming a nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We have reached the conclusion of the Experiment, practicing what we have learned. We build on a secure foundation of truth.

Americans prefer to consider us an experiment. We are the confused teenagers of democracy. We are in the awkward stage, trying to find our true identity. We need more time to prove the hypothesis that “all men are created equal.” We are still in a safe place like our parents’ basement, not confident we can make it in the world.

That’s our version of delayed development, but we are completely viable, more than that teenager who dwells below the surface. We survived the experiment.  We are the adults of democratic practice., whether we want to admit it or not. It’s time to get out of the basement and fulfill our potential. Get a job, America!

We can stop calling this the “American Experiment.” Since we are adults, let’s call it a “vocation” or a “mission” or a “summons,” (to  bring to the surface (a particular quality or reaction from within oneself”). The ” American Vocation.” I like that. Or “the American Mission.” Or “the American Summons.”

But how do democratic adults act in a crisis of values? Adults are proven by fulfilling the values they were brought up with. They don’t pretend they are in an identity crisis. They live up to the expectations that any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. 

  1. We react  constructively to a moment of crisis–a shooting, a natural disaster, an economic crisis. We don’t point fingers at brothers or sisters, blaming others first.  We assume joint responsibility for responding. That is how we were taught.
  2. If we are squabbling over who is right and who is wrong, we listen to the adults in the room. The adults are the ones who are not blaming immaturity on the siblings, but are viewing the crisis as a shared challenge, which demands the best efforts of all sides.
  3. Instead of getting angry with our rivals, we consider the weight of the tragedy or crisis and share the dismay and sadness that collapses hope. We may be frustrated that we are not the mature citizens we thought we were, but we are disappointed with ourselves, not finger-pointing. We have nothing to prove. We have only to practice what we have learned.
  4. Instead of claiming we were right all along, we  consider what are the shortcomings of the one complaint or solution we always insist is the answer. Only an immature adult has to be right all the time. Only a mature adult admits his opponent could be right.
  5. Instead of looking for a convenient scapegoat, we look for multiple causes for a crisis. The solution may involve multiple strategies, long-term effort and patience. A mature adult doesn’t listen to immature complaints that someone else is not living up to the Experiment. We consider complex solutions.

If you have raised teenagers, you could probably name other signs of arrested development. You get the idea. Teenagers have to be respected, but challenged to grow up.

Maybe we believe the old solutions are the best solutions. We prefer to be less accountable, to think of our enterprise as an “experiment.”  We want to go back to our parents’ basement, where we can re-think democracy. That is no longer an option. The world is turning, and we are accountable to the American Vocation” or whatever you want to call “living in the present.”

The “American Experiment” doesn’t suit our stage of development.  We have good principles. We are dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. We can not pretend we are helpless or blame our upbringing. Our family, our nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Thriving Tradition

I have never been a fan of tradition. In my opinion too much of it is contrived.  Many traditions die because they are extended beyond their their ability to thrive.  They have to carry meaning across the generations or they end. You can’t complain about losing traditions that are on life-support, rather than actual thriving.

Chautauqua has been thriving for 153 years. When I came here people spoke of it with reverence and sentimentality..  Most of them were beyond retirement age, so biologically it seemed on life support. Yet behind the scenes there was a thriving art community of older children and teenagers engaged in the arts: music, visual art, theater and writing.  We saw them in the joint orchestral performances of symphonic jazz in 2023 and symphonic blues in 2024.

It is a 225-acre community and a throwback to the Victorian era. Most of the homes are Gingerbread Victorian with bright colors and elegant trim. One sign of the community’s thriving: they are kept impeccably, almost without exception. The architecture, along with the gorgeous flowers, sustain the tradition of beauty on this campus.

In the center is Bestor Plaza, reminding me of an old campus quadrangle. It does have the required library and bookstore, but the classrooms are a about a hundred yards off to the east.

The 4,400 capacity open-air covered amphitheater carries the tradition of the massive meeting place, where the largest lectures and worship services take place.  The seating rises from the floor to the ground level, with just a few pillars that obscure the view of the stage.

Tradition should be supported by wisdom, beauty and growth.  The lecture theme this past week has been “Past Informs Present: How to Harness History” You find wisdom in the lectures, which these past two weeks have included N.Y. Times columnist Tom Friedman, Presidential biographer Doris Kearns Goodwin, and Morgan Freeman (with assistance from producer Eric Mercer). There was beauty in the musical performances, including Gershwin’s Concerto in F, commemorating his week of composition on the campus in 1924.

Freeman’s company shared both the venerable tradition of the blues, going back to the days of slavery and cotton fields and the innovation of combining blues with a symphony orchestra on Tuesday night. It was strikingly similar to Wynton Marsalis’ presentation of “All Rise” last year, a tribute the history of jazz along with the development of symphonic jazz in the performance of “All Rise.”

Doris Kearns Goodwin honored the same continuity of past and present by reviewing some of the crisis points of American history and the ingenuity and character of the Presidents who carried us through them. The wisdom, beauty and growth of both Freeman’s and Goodwin’s presentations are covered in more detail in my blog: https://wtucker.edublogs.org/2025/08/20/past-informs-present/

Tradition usually comes from a deep spirituality. Ecumenical worship is integral to Chautauqua’s tradition. Each day, except for Saturday, begins with a half hour of worship in the amphitheater. The thematic connection comes from the Chaplains of the week, who have been  have been extraordinary. Last year was Father Greg Boyle and Rev. Otis Moss III and this year Rev. Brian McLaren. My comments on McLaren’s sermons on re-reading the Bible and threats to the environment can be read at https://wtucker.edublogs.org/2025/08/19/indigenous-wisdom-chautauqua-iii/ and https://wtucker.edublogs.org/2025/08/23/the-new-jerusalem/.  They are a striking example of honoring the past, while examining it in present contexts.

The worship connects tradition with emotion, but not sentimentality. For me, the worship hymns and the choral performances brought the tears and the brighter lectures, such as the humorous AI reflections of Jonathan Zittrain, brought forth the joy. I notice a fine line between emotion and sentimentality, which is more about the musings of the “good old days.” That kind of emotion does not cross generations and usually leaves me cold.

Finally, a lively tradition brings hope for the future. The Chautauquans are exhaustingly hopeful in spite of the pessimism of the present. To a fault, they relentlessly clap for everything  that resonates or suggests a brighter future. They never give a platform to speakers who have no prospect of hope, yet giving an unflinching stare into the present.  They are a buoyant bunch, fun to be around.

On paper the final convocation is extremely corny. It begins at sunset with the hymn “Day is Dying in the West,” as the houselights gradually come up.  There are traditional hymns like “Break Thou the Bread of Life.” (Occasionally bows to Christian music despite an overall ecumenical tone).  And the inevitable “Now the Day is Over, Night is Drawing Nigh.” There is a ten-minute review of highlights of the past summer. Finally “Three Taps” of the gavel signaling its end.

Extremely corny. Yet, if you were here, it was moving, even an occasional tear. The power of the traditional is the genuine celebration of the generations and a staunch optimism for the future.  And for me, the transcendent beauty of the grounds, the worship, the penetrating discourse, the celebration of art and the humanities. God save me from the sentimentality of it, but I treasure the place, the people, and the emotion of a thriving tradition.

 

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The Leader We Need

The call for a new Stephen Miller to counter the old one is a pathetic strategy for vetting a new leader for the Democratic Party. I read about this disheartening goal in the current online issue of The Atlantic (August 7, 2025),  which by no means endorsed the quest.

The whole idea of imitating the leadership of the Republican Party is not only self-defeating, it is degrading and short-sighted. What the electorate needs is a breath of fresh air, not a deodorizing of the old one.  Voters feel this more than they know it. They will respond to a candidate who offers an inspiring vision rather than a competing one.

Maybe it’s because I have just heard Doris Kearns Goodwin speak that I am focused on the character of Presidents more than their platforms. Maybe it’s because character has been in short supply in the current administration. No one sacrifices for integrity, principles, or consistency in Washington anymore. I am convinced that those habits can come into currency again.

Goodwin says the primary traits of character in the Presidents she has studied are: empathy, resilience, listening skills, humility, and self-reflection. These sound like the traits of a spiritual icon, not so much a politician, yet Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, Franklin  Roosevelt and Lyndon Johnson  shared many of these qualities, and no one ever recommended them for sainthood. Maybe Lincoln.

Lincoln appointed his most potent political rivals to his cabinet. Teddy Roosevelt threatened powerful business interests with his labor and social reforms. Franklin Roosevelt appropriated tax dollars for training and employment programs of enormous scale that had never been tried before. Following the assassination of a President, Johnson passed the Civil Rights Bill against the threats of southern Democrats. When cautioned that he would lose the loyalty of those partisans with this bill, he said, “Then what the hell is the Presidency for?” These Presidents brought the kind of leadership needed for crises. We’ll pass over Johnson and Vietnam for the moment. Goodwin, herself, broke with Johnson on this issue.

Who represents high values in American politics today? Many who hesitate to run for high office, because they would be stampeded by the high profile, high charisma candidates we tend to vote for. Yet many less likely candidates are not short on courage, they are just short on constituency. They need to be recognized for their integrity, not Party loyalty. Loyalty is vastly overrated, as we have seen in the recent administration. Loyalty is prized by the Mob.

Many of these candidates have  been assaulted for their policies, gender, or ethnicity. Think of Gretchen Whitmer, victimized as a principled woman or Josh Shapiro, a Jewish Governor with moderate politics. Pete Buttigieg for his gender preference.

Some are going to suffer for their moderation in a liberal leaning Party, Andy Beshear, Governor of Kentucky or Jared Polis, Governor of Colorado. If he crossed over, Adam Kinzinger. Kinzinger is not done with politics, but he is toxic in the Republican Party.

Some are short on charisma, such as Cory Booker of New Jersey or Amy Klobuchar of Minnesota. They are both failed Primary candidates, but they are courageous and principled U.S. Senators.

Perhaps charisma is a requirement of a U.S. President today, but it should not be the first requirement.  The point is that the Democratic Party and the voters who elect them to office or the Convention are responsible to find a candidate with a record of integrity and unabashed character.  Voters have been fooled by charismatic charlatans long enough. They need to demand more of their leaders.

Character exists in politics, but politics has been driving out character. Voters need to recognize it and prize it for its rare value. They need to get over the prejudices that keep certain candidates from running for the Presidency and look for courage and depth. In their hearts voters long for this kind of leadership.

We can have character, if we raise our standards for leadership and shake off our gullibility.   We are smarter than politicians think we are.

 

 

 

 

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Past Informs Present

When you look at the celebrity pairing of Doris Kearns Goodwin and Morgan Freeman for the final week of Chautauqua, you have to be suspicious that the theme was designed after the stars were booked. The producers of the final week of the 2025 season had to know they would fill the 4,400 seat amphitheater, when they confirmed the headliners for Monday and Tuesday. They did. Some people sat in  the choir loft behind the presenters for the price of their tickets.

Somehow they made the theme work; Past Informs Present: How to Harness History. Both Goodwin and Freeman developed the theme of significant role-players of American history bringing  a message to the Twenty-first century of overcoming adversity with ingenuity and resilience. In fact there was some resonance between Freeman’s marriage of symphonic blues with last year’s “All Rise” by Wynton Marsalis, who had composed music for an orchestra and jazz ensemble, featuring some trumpet riffs by Marsalis himself.

Yesterday’s panel of Morgan Freeman, producer Eric Mercer, arranger and producer Mark Gellner with several blues performers, reminded me of Wynton Marsalis speaking the morning before his Chautauqua debut in 2024. It was about the pain of enslaved people married to music, about the power of democratic ideas, and the power of individuals to change history.

Both Freeman and Marsalis believed in the ancestral energy of American folk music and the possibility of preserving it in new orchestral arrangements. Both were taking risks with a folk tradition by bringing it into the concert hall, where it would get civilized, yet exposed to new audiences, possibly becoming more diverse and versatile.

The link with the perspective of the Caucasian version of history comes from the struggle to unite people during periods of division and uncertainty through the leadership of Presidents. “We have come through really, really great anxiety before,” Kearns Goodwin declared. She cited  the pre-Civill War period, the turn of the Twentieth Century, the uncertainty before the New Deal, and the peril of the rise of Adolf Hitler and World War II.

Perhaps unconsciously Doris Kearns Goodwin linked the suffering of cotton-pickers and sharecroppers with U.S. Presidents when she cited their “strength through adversity.” In Lincoln’s case the nation was perilously close to splitting right before his first election and again before his second election. Both elections were won by a razor thin margin and were threatened by Lincoln’s refusal to compromise the rights of Black citizens.

Teddy Roosevelt came from the privilege of wealth and entitlement, but he lost his mother and wife following the birth of his first child. He took his grief to a ranch he own in Wyoming, and returned after two years to serve in the Spanish-American War with the “Rough Riders. ” This period gave him the courage to bring the country through an era of economic uncertainty, when the wealthy were dominating the working classes through onerous working conditions and employment of children.

FDR contracted polio after years of robust health before he came to the Presidency. He developed a determination and optimism to lead the country from the Depression through the New Deal and into World War II during a period of isolartionism.

Kearns Goodwin served as a researcher during the Johnson administration and wrote his memoirs. She admired his courage to push the Civil Rights bill through. After the assassination of President Kennedy, his advisors warned he would lose his credibility with the South, which he had built up during his long tenure in the Senate. Johnson famously said, “Then what the hell is the Presidency for?” His legislative experience helped him to accomplish what Kennedy was unable to.

The refuge of music in the “juke joint” helped the sharecroppers and working poor through adversity during the Jim Crow period.  Keith Johnson, the grand nephew of “Muddy Waters,” was a spokesperson and a harmonica player for the blues group that gave the Tuesday morning preview of “The Symphonic Blues Experience.” “Those stories resonate. And you can feel those stories and the people. They helped build this country, so that’s why it’s so important.”

The evening concert was interrupted by some technical difficulties with the video portion of “Morgan Freeman Presents: Symphonic Blues Experience,” which juxtaposed the origins of blues in Clarksdale, Mississippi with grief of poverty and prejudice. Once they restored the projection onto the three screens, Freeman narrated a history of the Blues from Blind Wille Johnson (“Dark was the Night, Cold was the Ground”) to B.B. King (“Why I Sing the Blues”).  “Big A,” lead singer and guitar aka Anthony Sherrod, also contributed “Tried and Tried” and “Someday.”

The Mississippi Delta, in particular Clarksdale, has been considered a well-spring of blues jazz, tracing back to Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Ike Turner, Sam Cooke and W.C. Handy.  Freeman set up his Blues Club, “Ground Zero,” as a tribute and center for the art. The evening’s concert featured songs by Robert Johnson (“Dust My Broom”), Al Bell (“I’ll Take You There”), B.B. King (“The Thrill is Gone”), and Sam Cooke (“Bring It On Home to Me”).

Both Doris Kearns Goodwin and Morgan Freeman made a point to mention the legacy of past protagonists for young activists. Both are octogenarians thinking about their own legacy to younger generations. Goodwin mentioned the need for strength of character. Freeman mentioned his own connection with Nelson Mandela,while making the film “Invictus,” as a watershed moment in his life.  It is not such a stretch to see history being made at Chautauqua, while its champions try to remind us of the courage and resilience of past protagonists.

 

 

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Indigenous Wisdom (Chautauqua III)

On Sunday the Preacher for the Week, Rev. Brian McLaren, told us that our civilization consists of indigenous people and colonizers. The indigenous are those who belong to the land; the colonizers believe the land belongs to them.

In the beginning we were all indigenous. Then one tribe decided they were dissatisfied with their own land or needed resources from another tribe’s land, and so they invaded and took it over. So began the struggle of the dominators and the oppressed or the indigenous and the colonizers.

McLaren is the Dean of the Faculty of the Center for Action and Contemplation, a former Christian pastor and the author of numerous books, some I can recommend personally, such as Faith After Doubt and Do I Stay Christian? The book I am currently reading Life After Doom: Wisdom and Courage for a World Falling Apart, is the basis for his current series of sermons at Chautauqua.

He begins this book describing the “doom.” Based on our taking from the earth and returning only toxins, he predicts four possible scenarios, which I will not detail here, but they are called:

  1. Collapse Avoidance (see Kim Stanley Robinson’s Novels New York 2140 or The Minsitry of the Future)
  2. Collapse/Rebirth (see Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games)
  3. Collapse/ Survival (see The Parable of the Sower, Octavia Butler or The Road, Cormac McCarthy.
  4. Collapse/ Extinction (see  Don’t Look Up, film by Alan McKay or The World Without Us, Alan Weisman)

This is not the subject of this week’s sermons. Rather he addresses the re-reading of the Bible through indigenous eyes.  McLaren says the Hebrew and Christian Bibles were written by and about indigenous peoples, describing their predicaments as dominated people. The Bible has been used by the dominated classes to promote their cause from the time of the Roman Empire. A helpful analogy in his book Life After Doom compares the Bible to fossil fuel:

Fossil fuels are concentrations of chemical energy, derived from the decomposition of living creatures  . . . Our civilization has learned to exploit them over the last few hundred years. The Bible, like other sacred indigenous artifacts, is a concentration of wisdom . . .  what we might call intellectual or spiritual energy. . . . Like fossil fuels, the Bible has been exploited, often as fuel toward harmful ends, and often without attention to its harmful side effects. And like fossil fuels, the Bible has been exploited to make certain people a lot of money and bestow upon them a lot of power to do a lot of harm (p. 107).

On Monday McLaren told us to see the Bible as indigenous wisdom, especially the teaching of Jesus and the Sermon on the Mount. He also acquainted us with the writing of Father Thomas Berry:

In the twentieth century the glory of the human has become the desolation of Earth. The desolation of Earth is becoming the destiny of the human. All human institutions, professions, programs, and activities must now be judged primarily by the extent to which they inhibit, ignore, or foster a mutually enhancing human-Earth relationship [https://www.journeyoftheuniverse.org/news/thomas-berrys-historical-mission-of-our-times].

This pronouncement summarizes the lessons of Life After Doom  and the two sermons thus far.  The radical message has shaken the pillars to the extent that we wondered if some federal funding could be in jeopardy. However, after yesterday’s sermon, the Rt. Rev. Eugene Sutton, Senior Paster of Chautauqua, declared this was the message we all needed to hear.  From the enthusiastic applause at the close of the sermon, it seemed most of us agreed.

Yesterday’s scripture reading was about the law from Leviticus concerning the Jubilee year, a celebration every fifty years (Leviticus 25:8-13).  The passage comprises a radical restructuring of society and the restoring of the land by letting it lie fallow. Debts are forgiven and land returned to its original owners– a totally counter-cultural reform of property ownership. This is the part we read in the service:

It shall be a jubilee to you; and each of you shall return to his own property, and each of you shall return to his family. That fiftieth year shall be a jubilee to you. In it you shall not sow, neither reap that which grows of itself, nor gather from the undressed vines. For it is a jubilee; it shall be holy to you. You shall eat of its increase out of the field. In this Year of Jubilee each of you shall return to his property. (WEB)

The practice is so radical that there is some question about whether it was actually practiced, even by the original Hebrew settlers. What Jubilee celebrates is ownership by indigenous people and the preservation of the soil by allowing it to lie fallow.  Both of these practices run against the culture of acquisition and dominance. Yesterday McLaren emphasized the preservation of the land.

Chapter Nine of Life After Doom is called “Don’t Read the Bible (in the Same Old Way).” He recounts the basic narrative of the Hebrew and Christian scriptures from the viewpoint of indigenous people, the protagonists being the indigenous, unless you count the conqueror/ enslaver King Solomon.  McLaren points out that the idolatrous cultures, the Assyrians, the Babylonians, Persians, Greek, Syrians and Romans are dominators who enslaved the indigenous Hebrew people. Jesus, himself, was born into an indigenous culture and defended the rights of the dispossessed and counter-cultural.

But I’m getting ahead of the Preacher for the Week. We’ll see how far he takes us in today’s sermon.

 

 

 

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Gershwin at Chautauqua

This is the one hundredth anniversary of George Gershwin’s three-week stay at the Cary Inn at Chautauqua. Chautauqua has had many distinguished guests, including nine American presidents, but none of them stayed long enough to write a piano concerto. Gershwin wrote  his Piano Concert in F in one of the private cabins. He would return each night to the rooming house after a day of composition.

“He would come in after everybody had gone to bed,”said Dorothy Bierly, ” and I would be waiting to turn out the lights, He would want to talk. We didn’t agree on too much.” (Simpson, Jeffrey, Chautauqua: An American Utopia,  (NY: Abrams), 1991, p. 91.

Rhapsody in Blue was composed in 1924, and it was easy to hear its influence on the Concerto. In fact, Gershwin had just performed the  Rhapsody in its European debut on June 25, 1925, and  the audience had responded favorably to this new form of classical jazz. Gershwin came to Chautauqua that summer to write the Concerto for a commission by Walter Damrosch, conductor of the New York Symphony.

In the first movement of the Concerto in F you can hear echoes of the Rhapsody to the extent he seems to have run out of ideas for classical jazz. Blues sections of both violins and trumpets evoke the most typical runs of the Rhapsody. The orchestra overwhelms the piano somewhat in this movement, and I was sorry the pianist, the Gershwin virtuoso, Aaron Diehl, wasn’t getting his chance to shine.

The First Movement ended with a building climax from the orchestra and the piano to the extent that the audience forgot there would be two more movements and began to clap enthusiastically. We didn’t have printed programs, and Chautauqua audiences are not necessarily the most sophisticated. They love any excuse to clap.

The conductor made us realize there was more to come, and some sat down in their seats, somewhat embarrassed at their faux pas.  The Second Movement began with less fanfare.

I wish I could convey how different this movement was. There were intervals of ragtime that made you think of Scott Joplin. There were piano runs that gave Diehl a chance to show his chops. There were familiar brass blues sounds that were echoed by violins and flute. There was percussion in both of the last two movements that featured xylophone, chimes, tympani, and some I did not recognize. The percussion section was singled out at the end for ovations.

The Third Movement was the shortest and most dynamic. There’s some amazing thing that pianists do when they rapid fire a single chord that Diehl did several times during this movement. I was worried his fingers would fold.

My pretense of being a music critic is over.  I loved the final movement, because it had liberated itself from the Rhapsody while still giving a few tributes to its special sound. I suddenly realized that Gershwin wanted us to remember that earlier triumph, and even teased us with its memory in this piece. It echoed the sound while exploring new is sounds for jazz, including harp and chimes.

There was no doubt we had reached the end of the Concerto at the end of the Third Movement, so we stood for a deserved ovation for orchestra, conductor, and pianist. It happened that the conductor, Rossen Milanov, was giving his final performance with the Chautauqua orchestra, a fitting completion. I liked his swinging, but contained style.

The previous evening Victoria and I had to walk out on the deafening concert of Los Lobos, which most of the audience found entertaining. We were feeling the yawning generation gap, but were glad that the concert was included in our gate pass, and we did not lay down extra money for it..

It was all the more gratifying that we were delighted with this concert, which also included

Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904): The Water Goblin, Op.107 (1896) [21′]

Carlos Simon (b.1986): Four Black American Dances (2023) [15′]

It confirmed that we were not yet irrelevant to the twentieth century and acquainted with the twenty-first. We had celebrated a concert of contemporary music, even if we were a little confused about the number of movements in a concerto. We had  celebrated an icon of Chautauqua, who was also a world famous jazz composer. A pretty fine night’s cultivation of the arts.

 

 

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Chautauqua – Tom Friedman

Arriving at Chautauqua two days early really paid off with events celebrating “The Middle East: The Gulf States’ Emerging Influence.” Most magnetic for me: New York Times Columnist Tom Friedman. Only he could give a panoramic view after forty-six years of covering the Middle East.He has not only observed–he has participated in geopolitical changes during these five decades. Some highlights:
ChatGPT Will Never Replace Thomas Friedman
Friedman hypothesized that the players in the Persian Gulf were either of the Inclusion Network or the Resistance Network. The Inclusion group included the U.S., the European Union, and Persian Gulf nations pushing for decency in government, not necessarily democracy. These included Israel, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates.
The Resistance group included Iran, Hamas, the Houthis  Syria, until recently Russia. These groups preferred autocracy.
The struggle between these groups reflected the dynamics of the Persian Gulf.
Friedman remembered 1979, the fateful year he began as a UPI correspondent in Beirut:
  • the Iranian Revolution deposing the Shah and installing the Supreme Leader Ruhollah Khomeini
  • seizing of the Grand Mosque in Mecca, occupied by rebels for thirty days. It turned Saudi Arabia and other Arab states to repressive states with extreme moral codes.
  • Russia invaded Afghanistan engaging the U.S. in the conflict. The U.S. struck a camp in Afghanistan with cruise missiles: The missile strikes on al-Qaeda’s Afghan training camps were aimed at preempting more attacks and killing bin Laden. These strikes damaged the installations, but bin Laden was not present at the time.  [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Infinite_Reach] Consequences: “Bin Ladinism:” undermining  U.S. “operating systems” by empowering angry young Muslims for terror.
  • Three-mile Island Nuclear accident, halting the development of nuclear power plants and increasing dependence on fossil fuels.
  • Camp David Accords
  • Establishment of the European Union
  • Representative of Queen Elizabeth crowned the Prince of Dubai. Reinforced the model of maximum opportunity in Arab nations, which provided citizens with free health,  education and social services. “Dubai-ism:” shifts Saudi Arabia away from its 1979 conservative revolution. Later- the “Arab Spring” – liberal voices raised in the Middle east

Friedman connected these events we’d never considered, reflecting on the consequences. He helped us see how we came to the present predicament in the Persian Gulf by looking how the major players had changed since 1979.

Anecdotally he reflected on writing a column in 2001 for the NY Times: a fictional letter from President Bush to the Arab League. He had begun a series of fictional letters between heads of states that did not endear him to these leaders. In this letter he proposed a peace treaty among Israel and the Arab League nations that would re-draw the boundaries of the participants to the 1967 borders. At one point he was invited to the Saudi prince’s home, where the prince accused him of plagiarizing his own peace proposal. Eventually this very proposal was presented to Israel and the Arab League. In short order Hamas directed a suicide mission at a mass gathering at Passover, scuttling the negotiations.

Friedman characterized the present conflict in Gaza as the “War of the Worst,” for the ulterior motives of both sides to extend the war to sustain their internal power no matter how many innocent lives it took.  He criticized the backlash of university students in the U.S. as giving fuel to Hamas, which felt empowered by a smattering of U.S. students turning against Israel. He would never defend the mass killing of Palestinians in Gaza. He declared that the hostages should be exchanged for Hamas prisoners and the rebels allowed to leave Gaza to end the war. This would be the only way to set up a Palestinian state with the support of the Inclusive nations of the Persian Gulf.

Friedman finished with a Q & A with questions from the audience. He commented that Russia was no longer a player in the Middle East, because all of its resources were going into Ukraine. He gave a tangential observation about how the development of NATO drove the Soviet Union to retrench and build a counter-force after the fall of the Berlin Wall. He argued that NATO should have stopped its expansion in Eastern Europe, because of its threat to the Russians.

He also said that China played a shuttling game between the Resistance and the Inclusion networks, depending on what suited its purpose at the moment.

In conclusion,  Friedman gave his Mangrove analogy about the regeneration of the U.S. in world politics. Mangroves

  • buffer the coast from storms
  • filter toxins from the environment
  • provide a nursery for young fish
  • sustain the integrity of the coast
  1. As buffers they are like local newspapers, which used to deliver the news with balance to sustain its local audience. Now the people in rural America get their news from national outlets that predispose their opinions, so that national candidates don’t have a chance to present themselves to a free-thinking electorate.
  2.  As filters of toxins they are like the former social norms that generated shame when outrageous lies, abuses of power, or moral abuses (payoffs for prostitutes) receive attention. Such abuses fail to rise to the current standards of shame.
  3. As protections for younger generations, the universities and higher ed institutions have made diverse thought impossible, because of cancellation of non-liberal opinions, both for teachers and students.
  4. As for keeping the integrity of boundaries, the gerrymandering of voting districts has perverted any normal distinctions for voting districts.  This extreme re-districting has eliminated democratic integrity in both Red and Blue states.

Friedman left us with the sense of bi-partisan outrage that targets the moral fiber of society, the kind of criticism that can be shared across party lines. Some of his 0utrage could be traced to the Trump administration, but he was trying to be fair and avoid making the liberals too smug.

He finished by telling a possibly irrelevant story of an observant Jew who prayed every week that he could win the lottery. Goldberg honestly thought that God would be generous enough to answer his prayer. Within a year he grew tired of waiting, so he prayed with more fervor,”God, why couldn’t you find it in your infinite mercy to let me win the lottery?” Then the heavens parted and voice from heaven answered him, “Goldberg, buy a lottery ticket!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Life at Chautauqua

Our third journey to the Chautauqua Institute may be the most anticipated. We are slicing off a ten-day chunk of Chautauqua’s lecture series because we wanted to hear Tom Friedman, NY Times foreign correspondent, at the end of Week 8 and Doris Kearns Goodwin, American history biographer, at the beginning of Week 9.

Friedman caps off a week on the Middle East and Kearns Goodwin kicks off a week on the lessons of history for the present.Then on Tuesday, a Blues performance by a group organized by Morgan Freeman. It looks like this, but typically an audience about three-quarters this size.

A crowded amphitheater for a morning lecture
Thomas Friedman Fri, Aug 15, 2025 10:45 AM
Doris Kearns Goodwin Mon, Aug  18, 2025  10:45 AM
From Delta Roots to Symphonic Heights: Inside Morgan Freeman’s Symphonic Blues Experience Tue, Aug 19, 2025 10:45

We are staying at Paul Manor, an adapted Victorian house  right off the main plaza, which has a bookstore, a library,  boutiques, food concessions, restaurants, kind of like an upscale college campus. From the photo below our residence is off to the upper right, barely a block from Bestor Plaza.

20180815_gf_chq_11212

On other mornings we hear some lesser-known speakers, but they are often pleasant surprises, because of their fresh perspectives and specialties.

Earlier at 9:15 we enjoy a half-hour ecumenical worship service with a chaplain of the week. The chaplain delivers a brief sermon, which follows the theme of the week, so it is like a a spiritual warm-up. On Week Ten the chaplain is one of my favorite spiritual writers, Brian McLaren, author of Faith After Doubt and Do I Stay Christian? His current book has the provocative title Life After Doom.

That is what at morning at Chautauqua looks like.

In the afternoons they invite speakers to Philosophy Hall for the Interfaith Lecture Series. This venue is about one-fifth the size of the Amphitheater with seats outside as well as under the roof:

Ubaydullah Evans giving an Interfaith lecture to a crowd in the Hall of Philosophy
Last year we heard Miroslav Volf, founder of the Yale Center for Faith and Culture (https://faith.yale.edu/people/miroslav-volf). His web page photo is very stark. He has a warmer demeanor. Among his many books: The End of Memory: Remembering Rightly in a Violent World (2006; revised edition, 2020), winner of the Christianity Today Book Award.

At night we attend concerts ranging from symphonic to folk-rock or a featured play for the summer. Last year they featured an amazing production of Wynton Marsalis’s jazz-symphony “All Rise,” including jazz and symphonic instruments and a choir. That performance celebrated the 150th Anniversary of Chautauqua, and it was videotaped. It can be seen on the PBS streaming platform “PBS Passport.”

I hope this makes the Chautauqua experience a little more vivid. It is not an inexpensive week of your summer, but it is a beautiful setting: illuminating, entertaining, and relaxing as you choose your activities. We are really anticipating these final ten days of the summer season this week and next. Stay tuned for reports on the speakers.

 

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The Disastrous Abomination

“History doesn’t repeat itself , but it often rhymes.” Mark Twain’s wry observation comments on how the past anticipates the present and  the present rhymes with the future.

Upon viewing the Temple at the threshold of Jerusalem, Jesus’ disciples marveled at its magnificence. To make a point, Jesus said, “You see these great buildings? Not a single stone will be left on another; everything will be destroyed” (Mark 13:2).  The words might have been attributed to Jesus in retrospect, or maybe he was an astute political observer who foresaw the sacking of Jerusalem by the aggressive Empire of Rome. His words showed the insignificance of human construction compared to the ultimate verdict of history. The grand structures of mankind can be reduced to rubble.  Does Jesus’ prophecy rhyme with our  institutions today?

Extending his discourse, Jesus made another puzzling prophecy: “When you see the disastrous abomination [or detestable thing of desolation], then those in Judaea must escape to the mountains”  [12:14]; Scholars have pondered what this “abomination” might  be. Some speculate the attempt of the Roman Emperor Caligula to place his statue in the Temple around 40 CE. Others remark on the revolt of the Zealots and their betrayal of Israel [Levine, A.J. “The Little Apocalypse,” The Gospel of Mark].

What, then, could be the modern equivalent  of the “disastrous abomination,” something that rhymes with the sacrilegious  defilement of the Temple? Those who witnessed the January 6 television broadcast of  the siege of the Capitol Building, the desecration of the House of Representatives, the battering of Capitol officers with American flags and clubs, could not be blamed for calling it a “disastrous abomination.” It was an unthinkable violation of an institution revered by American citizens.

I remember thinking: This violence will finally expose the extreme nativists and contrast them from peace-loving protesters. We had all witnessed the “disastrous abomination” on live television. We had seen President’s Trump’s inaction in real time. We had seen it all rhyme with the worst desecrations of world history.

Some might say the very same election that inspired the violence was an abomination, because it fraudulently elected President Trump’s successor. Most of a major political party thinks the 2020 election was an abomination.

Some others might say the series of prosecutions of the beleaguered former President were a conspiratorial abomination, the weaponizing of the legal system.  Justice must now be viewed in the eye of the beholder.

Like the legal system, history has had its revisionists who re-shape past events to suit their purposes.  People have short memories. But usually the original memories, like the assault on the Capitol, survive over a generation. It is the later generations who succumb to revisions, the reframing of the past to suit the schemes of the present.

Not in the land of social media. We have seen the footage of the “abomination” over and over and revisited the violence in the Congressional investigation. Incredibly it dissolved into revisionist history in a matter of months. Since that January 6, President-elect Trump and  his supporters have reframed the “disastrous abomination” into a

  •  “normal tourist visit.”
  •   “day of love”
  • “simple protest” that “got out of hand,”
  • “legitimate political discourse” (You.Tube 2024 poll)

It is historically unprecedented for a “disastrous abomination” to be revised into “a day of love” in less than a Presidential election cycle. How porous are our memories to be bombarded with the actual media coverage for weeks, only, less than four years later, to interpret those events as a “day of love”?

Apparently overwhelming evidence can be misconstrued by a few quotes on social media. A voting majority of citizens can say that a “disastrous abomination” was “legitimate political discourse.” The most demoralizing realization is that voting-age citizens can be so easily deceived. Now the master of historical revision has been re-elected with the complicity of malleable memories.

I’m not sure if Jesus prophesied this moment in U.S. history, but I’m willing to believe that his prophecy rhymed with it. We have had our own  “disastrous abomination,” but have not heeded prophetic warnings. Some of us are surely contemplating an “escape to the mountains.”

 

 

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For Savannah, Give Thanks

When you get up tomorrow, you say, “God, I thank you for Rosa. That she could sit down so I could stand up.” And only God can teach you to do two things that sound contradictory at the same time, that she sat down and stood up at the same time. We must make our history sacred. ( Rev. Dr. Otis Moss III)

Dear Lord,

Thank you for Dr. Moss, who cuts to the chase, “God, I thank you for Rosa. That she could sit down so I could stand up.”

Paradox is no reason to forget to praise God.

Mixed feelings does not mean God has not acted and saved us from disaster.

I often forget that while I am complaining, you are still gracious.

While I am doubting, you are still faithful.

Thank you.

 

Today, my heart is full, because we have visited Savannah twice and

You made it different, wonderful every time.

I love walking the streets, seeing history memorialized in each square

For the splendid brick homes, separate, but connected,  celebrating wrought iron stairs and balconies.

For luxuriant Spanish moss, azaelas blooming in January

For the Massie Heritage Center, honoring Colonial, Black, Jewish, Native American histories

 

For Temple Mickve, so Gothic, Jewish, Colonial, welcoming

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you, God, for Jame Oglethorpe, who planned this city for inclusion, tolerance, sanctuary.

For Six Pence, the British Pub with Half and Half beer and Shepherd’s Pie

For Jalapeno’s: spicy and savory Mexican cassaroles

For Clary’s, home cooking, home ambience, breakfast all day

 

 

For the Wurlitzer organ in the Lucas Palace Theater–jingle bells, drums, woodwinds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you for Savannah, the same and different, every time.