It’s confounding that so many great things available to us go wasted, ignored, ungathered. We attend powerfully written plays that are free, rich talks by national authors, sessions on eye-opening, I-am-so-glad-I came subjects. And we see dozens of empty seats. We think of how moved and affected we have been from the experience and lament that “the people who should have been here aren’t.”

We wonder aloud, “Where is everybody?” How can so many smart people be so dumb to have ignored this event? They got the same publicity I did, and they can’t all be tied up with something else to do. Don’t they care – like I care?

Churches and temples book cutting-edge speakers, develop special series to help people or have choirs that practice their lungs out to get everything just right for the multitudes “who certainly are going to show up” on a Sunday afternoon or Tuesday night to behold them. Yet vast portions of their own congregations stay home because the grandchildren are coming over or the Suns are playing the Lakers on TV. We ask, “How could these folks let things that they can do anytime trump triumphant events so preciously planned.” And how can they seemingly be so thoughtless to know so many in their own church went to so much trouble planning and preparing, yet they couldn’t show up to affirm them as an audience? It is a serious question.

In my old age, I am concerned about the inertia of people. I see apathy about public affairs and community issues. I see low voter turnouts. I see national crises screaming for action, change, leadership, resolution and solutions. I see those crises left to be replaced, in our consciousness, by a new crises. National health care, energy, immigration, lobbying corruption, climate change, etc., all issues that never get fairly attacked or addressed because of the paralysis of policy-makers fearful that their re-elections would be jeopardized by taking a stand.

As for the citizenry, major issues are too much to deal with and they dismiss politicians outright. But the same folks surely manage to turn out to see the new film “Get Smart” or Angelina Jolie rambling through city streets in the impossible scenes in “Wanted.”

What’s wanted is for people to get smart and become part of the solution to the daunting problems we face — be ready to commit to a massive national sacrifice that can bring breathtaking solutions that might be possible if we would set aside selfishness and the insistence that we have a right to keep our gadgets, second and third homes and other vestiges of hedonism. We know now there will be many “low-information” voters this fall – folks deciding how to vote from superficial, surface issues like flag lapel pins, absurd e-mails about one candidate’s middle name, or who put on the best performances on “Saturday Night Live” and “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.”

Calls for unity and cooperation go unheeded. Unfortunately, we have a kind of Ayn Rand brand of individualism that says get what you can by your own means while you can. Seared into my brain is Rand’s book, “The Virtue of Selfishness,” which I read more than 35 years ago. It argued that altruism is “incompatible with man’s nature, with the creative requirements of his survival.” It follows that living for the sake of others is not a virtue, that we get pulled down when we deliberately try to raise people up. I frequently volunteer to get a dozen or 14 people on my half-block to contribute to a charities like the March of Dimes or American Lung Association. Sometimes all my solicitation steps get just one neighbor to respond. I know, I know, everybody is asking for money…..

But you’ve seen that attitude of ignoring all calls to help or shape solutions. It is so prevalent in the divisive immigration crisis debate. It’s so prevalent in public policy-making where the word “tax” has been so demonized. Calling for “higher taxes” is likened to legalizing pornography so that anyone who votes for a higher tax is forever stigmatized or branded with the “scarlet letter” of “T.”

Too much of society has checked out and turned to self-aggrandizement or mere survival. Activists for healthy solutions seem ill-armed to counter special interests with the means to control the agenda. Even media – invested with watchdog and education functions — is both shattered into countless pieces (precluding national unity), but, oddly, they are controlled by ever-fewer ownerships and voices.

Newspapers, magazines, books, film documentaries, informed speakers, and contemporary Paul Reveres warn us of consequences of neglecting dangers. But our good friends aren’t paying attention. They’re barbecuing or just beginning to read top-selling novels that are certain to be made into films next year.

Covering religion and faith is an endless learning venture, and readers are willing and quick to teach us. Their passion, their precision, their painstaking quest to set us straight speak good things to the vitality of people’s beliefs.

A June 21 front-page feature about the recent call from Pope Benedict XVI to extend the Latin Mass to all parishes prompted many comments, pieces of instruction to me and plenty of on-line discussion. I never anticipated how much support there is to the Old Mass that prevailed before changes of Vatican II went into place nearly four decades ago. The feedback suggests there is deep-seated disdain for the current, or New, Mass that allows for use of the vernacular (English in our case), contemporary music, lay involvement in the Mass, receiving the Eucharist in one’s hands, and more.

A reader from Scottsdale, presumably a traditionalist, gave no name, except “Scottsdale Ecclesia Dei,” sent me a large special folding brochure produced by St. Thomas Aquinas Seminary in Winona, Minn. It is titled, “Why the Traditional Latin Mass?: Why NOT the New? – 62 Reasons Why.” Look at this harsh comparison in favor of the Tridentine Mass: “The Traditional Mass – 2,000 years of venerable usage (tried and true); clearly a sacrifice (an altar, a priest), centered on God (structured for reverence), completely Catholic (one Holy Catholic, apostolic); codified after Council of Trent (by a Pope Saint – Pope St. Pius V); and fruitful (multitude of saints, martyrs, religions vocations.”

Across the page, the New Mass gets this review to match each of the aforementioned characteristics: “fabricated in 1969 (experimental); clearly a meal (a table); centered on man (loose structure invites abuses); half-Protestant (lack all four marks: one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic); contrived after Vatican II (for approval of six Protestant ministers); and barren (empty seminaries, decrease Mass attendance, massive defections).

The brochure’s 62 reasons are drawn from “60 reasons” developed by 25 diocesan priests in Brazil. It is a dizzying list. Here are just a few of them: No. 22: “because by grave omissions, the New Mass leads us to believe that it is only a meal (Protestant doctrine) and not a sacrifice for the remission of sins (Catholic) doctrine.” Or No. 9: “Because in less than seven years, after introduction of the New Mass, priests in the world decreased from 413,438 to 243,307 – almost 50 percent (Holy See statistics). One more: No. 47: “Because the intrinsic beauty of the traditional Mass attracts souls by itself; whereas, the New Mass, lacking any attractiveness of its own, has to invent novelties and entertainments in order to appeal to people.”

Thomas McFadden sent an e-mail to respond to the word “boring” – how an 82-year-old woman in my story described the Latin Mass. Said McFadden, “…nothing is as boring as the typical English language Mass found in most parishes with it banal language and trite music. It’s the liturgy designed for morons.” He said 83 percent of Catholics used to attend the “boring” pre-Vatican Mass, while now only 23 percent are engaged in the “new and improved liturgy.” If the Roman Catholic Church adopted “reforms” and came up with an “alleged superior product,” then McFadden submits, “If American bishops were executives of a typical American company, they would have been canned decades ago for ‘product success like this.’”

John Chuchman of Scottsdale, a relentless advocate for the church to reform and greater lay leadership, described the pope description of the Latin Mass (”a gift from God”) “hogwash.” He said Mass could have very well be in other languages like Christ’s own Aramaic or the later Hebrew and Greek. The call for ubiquitous Latin Mass is “simply an attempt to recapture a time and system when most Catholics in this country ‘paid, prayed and obeyed,” he said. “…The church’s hierarchy is trying to put the Catholic Church full-speed in reverse. The Holy Spirit won’t allow it, nor will most intelligent Catholics.”

It remains to be seen how — or whether– Bishop Thomas Olmsted of the Diocese of Phoenix will move forward at getting the 91 parishes to hold Latin Masses. It would be a daunting task, if it is to be done properly. It might be wise to do some market research in the parishes to determine how much a draw such Masses would be. From a practical standpoint, it would need to start in catechism and religious formation classes to nurture the understanding and appreciation to sustain Latin Masses in parishes.

Anyone who has gone down the long list of church names in the Yellow Pages or special church directories quickly finds it’s easy to get confused by names. Distinctly different are the Church of Christ, the United Church of Christ, the Community of Christ and the Christian Church, Scientist. Not to mention the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).

Getting Christ’s name in there somewhere in the name is fundamental.

But given the past couple years in which Warren Jeffs and the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints have captured headlines over complaints of polygamy, child abuse and forced marriages, it’s not surprising that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is weary of it all.

On Wednesday, church leaders in Salt Lake City put out the word that it doesn’t want the public to make any mistakes. It has placed new video interviews on its Web site to “illustrate the differences” between Mormons, including those in Texas, and those members of the isolated FLDS. It is also making a “written appeal” to the media to “make the important distinctions between the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and the Texas group.”

Seems the 13-million member church, which formally ended the practice of polygamy in 1890 as a provision to Utah statehood, commissioned a survey that “found a high level of public awareness of stories about the polygamous compound near San Angelo, Texas.” A raid followed, with hundreds of children taken from their FLDS parents and put into Children Protective Services care, until a series of legal actions allowed them to return to their parents.

The survey found more than a third of the people asked (36 percent) “erroneously thought that the Texas compound was part of the Mormon Church, based in Salt Lake City.” Some 6 percent believed the FLDS and Mormons were “partly related.” Twenty-nine percent “correctly said the two groups were not connected at all.” Another 29 percent were unsure.

When the public was directly asked which religious organization members of the polygamous groups belonged to, 30 percent of the time, they responded, “Mormon,” “LDS” or “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Fourteen percent said “FLDS” and 6 percent said “Mormon fundamentalists.” A whopping 44 percent said they were not sure. The survey was conducted May 29-31 and involved 1,000 adults in households in continental U.S.

That’s not good news for Mormons – including the 260,000 members in Texas.

“We’d much rather be talking about who we are than who we aren’t,” said Elder Quentin Cook, a Mormon apostle. He continued, “People have the right to worship as they choose, and we aren’t interested in attacking someone else’s beliefs. At the same time, we have an obligation to define ourselves rather than be defined by events and incidents that have nothing to do with us.”

In this case, and in politics 2008, we must recognize that there are “low-information” people in the population where their knowing too little can be dangerous. Their relationship with news and events is minimal. They don’t pay much attention, so they typically lump “related things” together. Compare it to how much most of us know about worldwide soccer and which are the strong and weak teams. All too little.

This week I marked my 36th anniversary writing for daily newspapers. My hope is that this struggling newspaper industry can sustain me for four more years, and I can retire about this time on my 40th anniversary in 2012. Meanwhile, I continue to admire strong work done on many fronts in the name of  journalism and information.

One of those noble efforts is “Portraits,” the monthly magazine of Arizona Southern Baptists, who offices are at 2240 N. Hayden Road, Suite 100, Scottsdale. It is a cleanly edited, inviting publication that literally celebrates the work and mission of Baptists across the state. The June edition carries the theme “Ministry beyond the big city,” showcasing ministries in the small communities of Arizona and faith in rural life.

“Rural churches are not second-class citizens in God’s economy,” asserts Steve Bass, the state convention’s executive director. He shares an intimate story about how he had just completed graduate studies in the early 1980s and took a pastorate in Beaver, Okla., on the heels of almost leaving the ministry. He has felt devastated when another church had rejected his candidacy “I was hurt and wondered if I had missed the call of God in my life,” Bass writes. “I gave everything I had that weekend, only to be told I was not God’s man for that church.”

Yet, he took a chance on tiny Beaver, with one grocery store, a Ford dealership, two banks, three doctors, a small hospital and four churches. And what he found was a church predisposed to loving and respecting its pastor “no matter his age.” Bass further found it a place where the deacons were loving and were men who followed the lead of the pastor. Those deacons even gathered together enough money to get him a car (from the town’s lone dealership).

Bass called Beaver “a place where everyone in town thought I was their pastor,” including the town drunk and those not darkening church doors. What Bass underscores is that “I needed Beaver more than they needed me.” The town itself changed his life, the pastor said. “I am convinced I am serving God and his church today because of that rural church.” The experience prompts Bass to say rural churches “produce some of God’s choicest servants.”

American has thousands of rural churches struggling to stay alive. Their dwindling memberships, remoteness and small budgets can make them unattractive to pastors seeking callings, especially young pastors with families to support.

However, more than a few veterans pastors today can look back on taking the chance, getting the experience, even waiting things out in small churches where there was worn linoleum in the fellowship hall, tawdry parsonages, breezes carrying the scent of livestock feed lots, plenty of potlucks, problems fielding a church softball team and lots of empty pews on Sunday mornings.

But the experiences give character to formative years in ministry, priceless stories for sermons for the rest of one’s life and plenty of affirmation coming from folks who often love the dickens out of them,  even when their stays are brief.

I suspect “religious law” will always clash with those public laws developed by society as it races forward toward greater modernity. No one likely would say that he or she agrees with every law enacted at the local, state and national levels. But it’s the law unless, or until, it is changed.

Generally in this country, there is an uneasy accord established that allows religious groups to carry out unpopular and troubling practices — up to a point — in the name of religious liberty. That ranges from Pastor Fred Phelps and his Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kan., being allowed to picket at American soldiers’ funerals to protest homosexuality to whether needed health treatment is being denied by parents of a desperately sick child in a Christian Science family. It involves permitting American Indians to use the hallucinogenic drug peyote or for followers of Santeria to sacrifices animals in bloody rituals. Stern religions seem to take much of the fun and adventure in being a kid or living childhood to its fullest. Much that the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints requires of its members, though legal, is, nevertheless, chilling. And there are many, many other examples in all sorts of faith groups that shock our sensibilities — and make us grateful we were never drawn in.

Some civil laws, of course, never impact us, while others do. For the most part, we accept laws or begrudgingly go along. That is unless you are a libertarian with the notion that laws are largely unnecessary because humans will somehow work things out on their own. The chaos from deregulation and the greed demonstrated by turning over public operations to privatization should make us think anew about the merits of just letting the strong and well-positioned to have their way in a laissez- faire environment. As if we should trust that they’ll all do the right thing.

At the heart of the issue is the recognition that most well-crafted and thought-out laws are there to bring order and civility.

Which leads us to a news story out of Hastings, Pa., about two Amish farmers who face jail or fines of up to $10,000 for defying rules about the construction and management of the outhouses building at an Amish schoolhouse. They say their religious beliefs prevent them from obeying the county rules on sewage disposal, including 1) how the outhouses are constructed: and 2) where the human wastes are disposed of. Sam Yoder and Andy Swarzentruber sought no permits before they put up the outhouses. What’s more, the design means the human waste is collected in plastic buckets and then dumped onto their farm fields as fertilizer.  They were cited in February.

Folks living nearby are outraged by what the farmers of the ultraconservative Swartzentruber Amish sect are doing. That group is more resistant to modern ways, including an unwillingness to put orange, triangular safety reflectors on their buggies so that car drivers can better see them. They recently were taken to court and sentenced to 90 days in jail. They were given a chance to pay fines instead — or do community service. They declined.

“We respect the religious beliefs of the Amish,” said Deborah Sedlmeyer, executive director of the Cambria County Sewage Enforcement Agency, which looks after 35 municipalities. “But the agency expects the Amish to honor and respect our state laws.”

According to an Associated Press story, Swartzentruber told the judge, “I guess I have to keep with my religion … I’m going to stay with my religion.”

Certainly, that kind of a conviction, maybe pure stubbornness, feeds strong feelings and stereotypes about religion’s rigidity and followers’ unwillingness to think more widely about the common needs and the greater community. We are naive to allow that, as long as actions can be based on religious beliefs, they are exempt from public scrutiny and limits.