On Saturday, October 27 I drove out to Aurora, Ill., to cover the Pro Life Action League’s protest of a new Planned Parenthood facility. Critics say that Planned Parenthood misled the public by applying for permits during construction under the name “Gemini Office Development” even though Planned Parenthood fully intended to build one of the nation’s largest abortion clinics in Aurora. Planned Parenthood contends that it did nothing illegal but instead used deft tactics to diminish opposition by a “low visibility approach.” Here are images and audio I captured at the event.

At the protest, anti-abortion activists carried signs that read “Planned Parenthood Lies to You” and “Stop Abortion Now.” In front of the clinic, protesters prayed the rosary. I stood by them to record their prayers and watched teenage girls and young women enter and leave the facility.

My peers entered Planned Parenthood in front of me while my spiritual brothers and sisters prayed for them next to me. The space between all of us was apparent, and troubling.

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It was announced this week that Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert has prostate cancer. During the day, YNet News ran an article on Olmert's illness that I found particularly moving. It was headlined "World Leaders Reach Out to Olmert" and basically listed all of the politicians who had called to express support and wish Olmert a quick recovery.

They included Tony Blair, Condoleeza Rice, Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak and Republican presidential candidate Rudy Giuliani, who himself survived prostate cancer and had a long chat with Olmert. Even Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas and Prime Minister Salam Fayyad called.

We hear fairly often in the news about Olmert meeting with Palestinian Authority and other world leaders to discuss contentious issues. The beauty of this story, however, is that it is a reminder that when it comes down to it, all of these politicians are human, and they've spent a good amount of time together. So when Olmert gets sick, he's not just the guy across the negotiating table with whom they get into frustrating arguments; he is a person, an acquaintance if you will, who is going through a most human experience - sickness. And they did the right thing; namely, they acted like mensches.

When all is said and done, what happened to the Petit family of Cheshire, Connecticut may look like a contemporary “In Cold Blood.” The brutal murders of Jennifer Hawke-Petit, 48, and her daughters Hayley, 17, and Michaela, 11, would give any community reason to pause.

But as this piece points out, the Petits were stalwart members of a staunchly anti-death penalty church, Cheshire United Methodist. Which raises one gut-wrenching question now that prosecutors have decided to seek the death penalty against the Petit’s two alleged murderers: What should the congregation, which two years ago held a vigil outside a prison where Connecticut executed its first criminal in 45 years, say or do regarding the proceedings against the two suspects in the murder of three of their own?

About a month ago I was having a discussion with a friend of mine when she said that she would like to see some of the most impoverished parts of Africa. I challenged her a bit, asking why Misery Tourism was something to be desired. She rejoined that seeing it would ingrain the need to help the people more than reading or hearing about it.

I understand the feeling, but I balked at it then and didn’t quite know why. Reading about the Petits, I think I understand my initial trepidation.

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David Brooks wrote Friday about his “outsourced brain,” which, he said, has evolved as a result of such glorious technological advances as a GPS system, Amazon.com’s product recommendations and Wikipedia . As a member of the baby boom generation, Brooks writes, the way that his mind functions has been altered by recent advances in technology.

Try being born into that world. I swear my mind works like the internet: I think in terms of connections but lack the depth of knowledge that coming of age in a slower world may have cultivated. My ability to concentrate is about as fickle as Drudge Report: Sirens go off in one corner of my brain while bold red text catches my eye in the other and oh my goodness can you believe Hillary Clinton said that? I read four articles at the same time while playing music, e-mailing my professor, checking my blog roll and sipping my hazelnut coffee.

For the members of my generation, the world is literally at our fingertips, and knowledge is just a type or a click away. Thomas Friedman recently branded us “Generation Quiet,” suggesting that we are too busy with our iPods, signing online petitions or chatting away on IM to change the world in a way that he considers noteworthy. I would answer his attack, but I’m a bit occupied right now updating my Facebook profile.

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It is Friday. Thank goodness it’s Friday. Because if it is Friday, then that means nationwide, Islamo-Fascism Awareness Week is over.

In this week, I have been challenged emotionally and intellectually. But not in a good way. Not in a way that strives to better myself, or to seriously consider the world’s problems (and the world has so many problems).

This week has been Terrorism Awareness Week at DePaul – a week full of dangerous generalizations against Muslims. I had thought the event on Monday was terrible enough, and this week could not get any worse. Unfortunately, Wednesday’s night proved me dreadfully wrong.

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Dear New Jersey Transit worker #1:

I got off the train in Trenton, a place that I have never visited before and may never visit again, unsure of how long until my next train left or from where it left. You told me not to buy my ticket on the train, saving me money, and to take the bridge over the track, saving me time. I do not know your name and did not thank you. Thank you.

Dear New Jersey Transit worker #2:

After finally succeeding to buy a ticket from Trenton to Penn Station and getting $8 change in quarters and Susan B. Anthony dollars, I heard, “Penn Station, all aboard” from somewhere in the station. I dashed up the stairs and over the bridge that sent me, I thought, to the next train. I had turned and was about to go through doors marked EXIT when you shouted, “You don’t want go down those stairs!” I frantically asked where the train to New York was and you calmly but quickly pointed me down the right set of stairs, which I would not have found otherwise and down which I tore right away. I do not know your name and did not thank you. Thank you.

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Last night I went to the concert of Teapacks, a popular Israeli band. I’ve been to quite a few Israeli concerts in Boston, and the same thing always happens. The band will speak in English between songs and inevitably some Israeli screams at the top of their lungs, usually in Hebrew, “Everyone understands Hebrew! Sing in Hebrew!” The band or singer jokes about it in Hebrew and then continues in English. Last night was no exception as far as the heckling goes, but this time the lead singer of Teapacks fought back – he actually stopped and gave a full-on lecture in Hebrew.

“Let’s explain to the Israelis,” he said. He talked about how they are an international band and they want everyone to understand them, including, he specifically mentioned, “Jews who don’t speak Hebrew.” I felt like the entire Hebrew-speaking audience had just been given a time-out. But it struck me that he specifically mentioned Jews who don’t speak Hebrew as targets of their music. I certainly thought it was noble that as an Israeli musician he was trying to be inclusive to all Jews, including those that don’t speak Hebrew, but at the same time, I wanted to hear more Hebrew!

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As I was walking through our Student Center a week ago, I passed by a flier that caught my eye. In large white letters on a blood red background, it said, “Terrorism Awareness Week”. Next to the word terrorism, there was a crescent moon and a star -- a symbol I see in my mosques, in my home, on my Qur’an.

This Monday, I went to the event that was advertised underneath the main title, “War with Iran?”. Three speakers were present: the first a man named Amir Abbas Fakhravar, an Iranian. The second was an author, Robert Spencer, who’s latest release is titled "Religion of Peace: Why Christianity Is, and Islam Isn’t". The third, a professor at DePaul, Scott Hibbard, who presented a rebuttal to the first two arguments.

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Check out Rabbi Arthur Waskow’s “Shalom Center,” where this absolutely ridiculous “Islamo-Fascism Awareness Week,” is turned on its head.

When the imaginary feature film sent out for use in this imaginary Week - which focused on the disgusting Christian-led war that killed hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and the disgusting Jewish-led killing of Muslim children by airplane bombing raids on Gaza - also included interviews with a few peacenik Quakers, Methodists, and left-wing Jews, criticizing that war and those bombings, did you relax, feeling it was a balanced presentation of Judaism and Christianity?

Apparently, 200 university and college campuses nation-wide are hosting events to up people’s awareness of Islamo-Fascism. Terrorism Watch boasts “3,193,193 unique visitors since January 31, 2007.”

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Have you seen The CW’s new television show, "Aliens in America"? It is about the adventures of a Pakistani teenager named Raja on exchange to Wisconsin. You can watch full length episodes online, and since I am without a TV but laptop ready, "Aliens in America" is my new favorite show.

After his first day at school, Raja is shaken by a episode in class where he is cited for his “Muslimism,” and told that “his people attacked the buildings in New York.” Frustrated, Raja prays the Shahadah in front his host family’s son, Justin.

Raja: What prayers do you recite when you’re upset?

Justin: I… I don’t usually uhh, I don’t really pray that much. Usually I just like, you know, eat a brownie or buy a C.D.

Things I have done when I am upset: Cut my hair. Curled my hair. Blow-dried my hair. Enhanced my hair color with subtle tone enhancing highlights.

For years, I have also recited a prayer that I found on the back of a prayer card sent to our house. As a child, the peace I found in it was less intellectualized than my understanding of the prayer now. Both then and now, I trust Jesus/ God/ the spirit/ the universe/ all that is good to be with me, to surround me with peace in difficult times, not deliver me from these hardships.

“Compassionate Jesus, I remember your gentle invitation to come and be refreshed. I bring you now all my worries, fears, needs and doubts, and those of my world. I entrust to you my loved ones, both living and deceased. Enfold us in all your love, now and forevermore. Amen.”

And if you are wondering if it is possible to recite this prayer while furiously styling a new hairdo or stuffing a chocolate chunk brownie into your mouth, the answer is yes.

The recent media attention given to the trial of polygamous sect leader Warren Jeffs has been tugging at my feelings on faith. Obviously, I believe that Warren Jeff’s actions as an accomplice to rape are nothing but despicable, but the shadow the trial cast over the rest of practicing polygamists is unfortunate.

What’s the problem with polygamy? From a human rights perspective, denying someone the right to marry the person/persons they love is a violation of basic natural rights, and dare I say, God-given rights. My faith is rooted in a belief of God-given rights that should never be sacrificed.

The LDS Church did practice polygamy in the 1800’s before bowing to political and economic pressure to change its ways. Today, the LDS Church ex-communicates anyone who practices polygamy, but many independent sects of Mormon faith exist that do exercise plural marriage.

I believe that plural marriage is a law of heaven, but has been sidelined in this world because of cultural customs. Can God compromise?

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Sitting under the gold and white ceiling of Carnegie Hall this past Friday, I felt my jaw drop in surprise. It was a cool New York evening, and I was there for one specific reason: to see my favorite author.

She sat in a throne-like chair, answering questions as all two thousand of us lucky attendees sat at the edge of our chairs. A young girl walked up to the podium with her question printed out in her hand. She stood trembling in front of the microphone, and she said specifically what I would have said had I been given the chance -- how much these books have changed her life, and how they have inspired her to no end. Then, she asked the question. The Question that got The Answer everyone has been talking about for the rest of this weekend:

“Did Dumbledore, who believed in the prevailing power of love, ever fall in love himself?”

And yes, everyone, it is as few (very, very few) have predicted: Dumbledore, the wisest, most trusted and influential wizard in the entire series, is gay. And I could not adore Ms. Rowling more for it.

No matter your view on the issue, one cannot deny how much this does for British literature, or the gay community around the world. As an English major, I’m reeling with thesis topics already.

The best moment of the night, however, was not this, but when a young girl and her mother walked up to the stage, and the mother said:

“Thank you for answering the question so honestly, but” (looking at her daughter), “I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

I can relate to the recent post on Lox et Veritas about how sports is a religion for many people. I say this because I can see Fenway Park from my dorm room, and as I sit typing, there are swarms of fans flooding Beacon Street outside my window, cheering and running and shouting expletives. I just saw my friend Larry out there banging on a cowbell. My roommate and I didn't even have to ask anyone or turn on the TV or check online to see if the Red Sox won - we could hear it. The Red Sox are going to the World Series and the people of Boston are in a religious ecstasy.

Of course all season we've heard fans walking past our apartment on their way home from the game at ungodly hours. One particularly charming incident was on the first night of Rosh Hashannah, when I lay in bed, tossing and turning to drunken screams of "Go Red Sox!" and, oddly, "Konichiwa!" outside. Their religious event and mine coincided. But now this is the culmination of the Red Sox fans' pure and unwavering devotion. I don't know a lot about baseball, but I do know that starting Wednesday night, I should probably not plan on going to bed early.

So in peeling through the research archives of the Arab-West Report today I came across quite an interesting passage in the Qur’an, cited in an Egyptian news media outlet talking about kuffars, or unbelievers and/or atheists.

Sura 45:24: “And they say: ‘What is there but our life in this world? We shall die and we live, and nothing but Time can destroy us.’ But of that they have no knowledge: they merely conjecture.”

Maybe I would quibble a little, but no real arguments here. To continue…

Sura 45:25: “And when Our Clear Signs are rehearsed to them, their argument is nothing but this: they say, ‘Bring (back) our forefathers, if what you say is true!’”

Ah, yes. Me and my conjecture.

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USA Today announced the best teachers in America today. Full disclosure: my high school Latin teacher, Mr. Tylinski, was honorably mentioned. I know from observing him the hours upon hours these teachers commit to their students. The students, perhaps, are like parishoners a pastor dedicates his life to helping. Education may not be salvation, but I wonder whether religion or religious beliefs motivate teachers to work so hard for so little reward.

More on this later, but I am not sure that nothing succeeds like success. How many of us have known a teacher whose commitment to his own and his students' excellence has only infuriated his colleagues, students, and administrators? I imagine many of them disdain how high these saints set the bar of excellence. Of course, we often are those disdainers. How often do we applaud when others challenge us to be better people, especially when better people means dedicating our lives to helping others?

I have been doing a little spiritual director shopping lately. I am looking for a Catholic guide, a person trained to help me channel my religious angst in a productive direction. I have met with several people –spiritual first dates, if you will. After a painful search and some heartache, I believe that I have found The One. It was love at first insight.

My most recent date gone wrong was with a priest who wanted to bring me back in step with the church by exploring the ways that I have been hurt throughout my life. If I determined where I had been wounded in my personal life, Father suggested, then my objections to certain church precepts that have hurt me would diminish. (N.B., I have a quite normal—even lovely –personal life.) While I think psychoanalysis might be worthwhile for some people, I was hoping to move forward constructively. Furthermore, I am not trying to fall in line, but rather I am looking to be honest with the questions that I have.

And then I found her. She is a Benedictine nun in the Chicago area. She is thoughtful and compassionate. She caught what I threw at her. We laughed. I tried not to cry.

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In my first blog, I wrote about learning about Christianity – there is a flip side to that story. Part of my taking courses on Christianity came from my being adamant that I would not take Judaic studies classes. I was not some overly-parochial Jew who just wanted to take classes in what was about me. Plus I wanted to surprise people with my worldliness and open-mindedness. Everyone expected my study of religion to be about Judaism, and I was determined not to give them the satisfaction of being right. As I said in my first blog, it was my own small form of rebellion.

Tonight at BU Hillel we had an event on Jewish Literacy that I helped organized. It featured Rabbi Nehemia Polen and fellow On Faith blogger Stephen Prothero, chairman of our religion department and author of “Religious Literacy.” The event really got me thinking about my own Jewish literacy.

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It was lying on my back on the desert floor of Wadi Rum this summer when I got caught up in what is, for me, a surprising conversation. One of my Jordan-exploring compatriots mentioned the fact that, looking up at all the stars that night, he knew there was a God. I quietly imagined that the ancients probably felt much the same way, laying astride their camels in what would become T. E. Lawrence’s legendary stomping grounds, eyes glued to the heavens in wonder. The enormity and grace of a pristine night sky does give this humanist pause.

It was much the same driving through Lebanon two days ago. The country’s jewel, Beirut, the “city that would not die,” sits at the base of rolling, verdant hills. Beyond, the ancient beauty of Jeitta Grotto, the towering might of the Lebanese Cedars, and the glowing countryside in between, flush with vineyards and breathtaking views.
As one tour guide appraised me, “We are the only country in the world in which you can swim in the sea in the morning, get in your car, and in one hour’s time go skiing.”

This is powerful stuff.

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The Cubs lost. The Bears lost. I am still smiling, though, because two weeks ago, the Packers lost.

I love baseball, but there is something to be said about super-modern professional football as religious experience. One can understand religious rituals as celebrations of the power of the gathered, frenzied community, and not just any individual believer, or fan. F-16s flyover the opening kick and a hundred thousand fans scream in unison at every big hit and sing at every score.

We have written already at length about the inability of contemporary churches to reach many youth. Compare that to my extactic text message inbox immediately following the Bears triumph over their arch rivals:

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I have been looking over my photographs from my trip to Egypt and was reminded of an important episode.

My tour guide, a highly educated Cairo native, was a walking encyclopedia for Egyptian history and present day politics. She was quite progressive compared to many of her peers. She often traveled alone throughout the country. Her modern sensibilities and independent outlook were just two reasons I was shocked when she turned to me one night and asked: “Is it true that the Jews control the American government?” I was too shocked to put together a cogent answer.
My tour guide was not alone in that thinking: a political cartoon in Egypt’s newspaper that ran in June, while I visited, depicted Israelis as monsters in bed with Uncle Sam. The conspiracy theories, the fear and distrust are reminiscent of a dark era in world history.

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Last Thursday I spent the night drinking, dancing and partying. But I was not at a fraternity house or a seedy bar. I was at Boston University’s Hillel House. Simchat Torah has got to be one of the top three holidays we’ve got.

It’s easy to forget, especially after the marathon prayer services of the high holidays, that Judaism is not boring. But luckily, soon after comes Simchat Torah, or “celebration of the Torah,” which is basically a big party for our holy book.

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I have written before about the importance of making Christianity relevant in the lives of youth, but I advocate doing so with bold, Jesus-centered initiatives. Others have a different idea of what ‘relevant’ means. . .

Take Halo Ministry for example. Matt Richtel wrote an article for Sunday’s New York Times with the headline: “Thou Shalt Not Kill, Except in a Popular Video Game at Church.” The premise is that some Christian churches are organizing Halo video game sessions as a way to get teenagers to attend religious youth groups.

Halo, the video game, is rated M for “Blood and Gore.” Yummy.

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I’m sorry to disappoint those of you that were expecting a clean cut, return missionary, BYU student to fill the Latter-day Saint slot on the Faithbook blog. Take a look at my picture. Look at my long hippie hair. Would you be willing to believe that I’m a liberal Democrat? That I was born in Provo but didn’t go to Brigham Young University? That I’ll be twenty in December and I have no plans to go on a mission?

That I’m still a faithful member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?

Take notice of my word choice: Faithful. By using the word faithful I’m implying that I have faith in LDS doctrine. Whether or not I should be considered an active member of the LDS faith is up to you. I don’t attend church regularly, because at this point in my life the Lord is something I worship personally, with support from friends and family. I may not fit the stereotype of an active LDS member, but inside my heart, or my soul, whatever you want to call it, I do possess a comprehensive faith of LDS doctrine. I argue that proof of faith shouldn’t be decided by protocol (i.e. church attendance, hair length, donations). I contend that faith is a conviction that exists within someone, that is executed through acts of kindness, accomplishing the right thing, and a reverent respect for other’s beliefs.

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I just got my hands on the book that people are talking about up and down the East Coast: Education’s End. Written by former Dean of the Yale Law School Anthony Kronman, Education’s End: Why Our Colleges and Universities Have Given Up on the Meaning of Life argues, so far as I understand, that the German research ideal – to add to knowledge at all costs – has led to great advances for humanity in the sciences and maybe even knowledge in the humanities, but no help for the thousands of college students who want to know how to live their lives. The most popular religious figures on today’s campus are the one’s most morally demanding and “reactionary”: the evangelical Christian Bible leaders and the Chabad rabbi.

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The Campus Catholic’s posting a few weeks ago about the lameness of church sounded familiar, but in American Judaism the lameness lies not in the message being delivered, but in the prayer itself. In synagogues across America, Jews sit in pews chatting with their friends, prayer book casually opened on their laps, feeling very little. Usually there are a few individuals who pray with intent and passion, but for the most part there is almost no sense of passion in the community during worship. Too many times services in American synagogues lack real emotion and are straight up boring. And for many of the young American Jews defecting from the religion, this is part of the reason.

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I have always been intrigued by the definitions of words. One time, when I was younger, my mother caught me with a red copy of Webster’s Dictionary, looking up the largest word I could find to memorize.

As I grew older, I learned new words but forgot to question their meanings. Words that we used all the time, words said on television or on the radio, words in books I never bothered to look up anymore.

Last year, I took a class "Islam and Global Contexts." My professor asked us what “terrorism” was. We were all a little taken aback. We had heard this term so often, yet none of us could pinpoint what it actually was. Phrases were formulating on the tips of our tongues, but none were specific enough and others were too vague.

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Politicians have a long history of garbling the message when they get in front of the camera. Like this. Or like this. And last but not least, like this.

And then somebody has a little insecurity issue with Evangelical voters, perhaps, and goes on to say something like this:

"I just have to say in all candor that since this nation was founded primarily on Christian principles ... personally, I prefer someone who I know who has a solid grounding in my faith," McCain said. "But that doesn't mean that I'm sure that someone who is Muslim would not make a good president."

The NYT titled its piece on McCain's interview: "McCain casts Muslims as less fit to lead." Slightly dramatic, sure, but you get the point.

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So year 50, day 2 of the "In God We Trust" era is almost said and done. As the afore-tagged article attests, the placement of such a phrase on my national currency crops up in debates over “just how high the wall separating church and state should stand.”

The arguments generally go something like this.

Pious Christian Gentleman X: “Of course we trust in God! Don’t you know we were founded on Judeo-Christian values? Don’t you know divine providence (or at least the Protestant Work Ethic) has made this country great? We’re a Christian nation and should say so. Think of the children! I actually suggest we tattoo our fine little motto on people’s foreheads. But maybe that’s just me.”

Acolyte of Michael Newdow: “Don’t you know the psychic pain that I receive every day looking at my currency and seeing those three, wretched letters! I don’t want to grow up in a nation where my child has to come within a hundred miles of anything that even smacks of this “god” character. We all know stuff like that poisons everything. Ever heard of the First Amendment?”

Both of these people tire me oh-so-much.

Do these four little words constitute the beginnings of the legendary “slippery slope” towards establishing a state religion? No, they don’t. They are sufficiently innocuous enough to strike an important balance: wiping them out would feel like too much of a witch hunt while expanding on them would topple them over into the establishment abyss.

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During Yom Kippur services, the Yale Jewish clergy stressed the theme of God’s ability to eliminate sin totally. Of course, Jewish tradition emphasizes that God only can do this for affronts to God; affronts to other people, you have to take care of with people, first. Moreover, the prayers admitting sin to God are always said in the plural; this allows everyone to admit sin without embarrassing himself, and also implies that we all pray on behalf of the congregation. But it also suggests the inevitability of sinning against God, especially when you don’t understand the Hebrew sins you’re confessing, especially when your homework before Yom Kippur was to read Augustine.

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When I hear people casually mention "the Holy Spirit," I smile. When someone around me says "Insh'allah" (god willing in Arabic), I get happy. I love it when Jews say "Baruch Hashem" (God bless in Hebrew). The people who say these things are so faithful and their religion is such an integral part of their lives that it sanctifies their words, slipping into their everyday speech, even with people not of their own faith.

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