Religious education – Yet Another Unitarian Universalist

Numskull and the Rabbit

Another in a series of stories for liberal religious kids. This one is from the Panchatantra, an ancient Sanskrit text that contains many well-known folk tales.

In the forest lived an arrogant lion whose name was Numskull. He only needed one animal a day for his food, but he enjoyed killing for the fun of it. So he would kill any animal he saw, whether or not he was hungry, just because he enjoyed it.

At last, all the other animals of the forest — deer, boars, buffaloes, wild oxen, rabbits, and more — agreed to go to the lion together, to try to stop this slaughter. When they approached Numskull, they got down on their knees to bow to him. Speaking with the utmost humility, they said, “O King of all the animals, we beg you to end this endless slaughter of other animals. For as our sacred book tells us:

“When a fool does evil in this life
For the sake of bliss,
They shall have a thousand future lives
Pass in wretchedness.

“We beg you to think of what will happen to you in your next reincarnation, if you continue to slaughter us willy-nilly. We humbly ask that you simply stay at home, and we will send one animal each day to serve as your meal. This way, you will never be hungry, and for our part we will not have to worry about our families. And you can perform the duties of a king without risking punishment in your future lives. For as the proverb says:

“When a king tastes power like a potion,
Sipping bit by bit,
He will not overload his life,
He’ll fully relish it.”

Numskull listened to the animals, and replied, “You have convinced me. But be warned! If you do not send me an animal to eat every single day, I swear that I will come and kill all of you.”

Relieved, the animals promised to live by this agreement. From then on, the animals were able to roam about the forest without fear. But each day, they had tosent one of their number to serve as Numskull’s midday meal. Each day, it was the turn of a different kind of animal, whether deer or gazelle or boar, to send forth one animal of their species.

Rabbit-day came around, and the rabbits decided on one of their number to send to the lion. As the other animals sent her off to die, this rabbit thought to herself, “Somehow, it must be possible to kill this horrible lion. For it is said:

“In all things wisdom surely can prevail,
In nothing can determination fail,
There is nothing flattery cannot subdue,
Nothing enterprise cannot win through.”

And having repeated this little poem, the rabbit thought to herself, “Perhaps I can even kill a lion.”

She went along slowly, thinking of ways to defeat the lion. She was several hours late when at last she came to the home of the lion. Because she was so late, the lion had become very hungry, and was thinking to himself, “I cannot stand waiting so long! First thing in the morning, I shall go out and start slaughtering all the animals.”

While the lion was thinking these thoughts, the rabbit came up and bowed low. The sight of this small little rabbit, barely a single bite, enraged the lion. “You worthless animal!” he roared. “Not only are you late, but you are too small to make a full meal. I shall kill you first, and then I shall kill all the other animals besides.”

The little rabbit bowed low again, and humbly said, “O great lion, the fault is not mine, nor does it belong to the other animals. If you will listen, you will hear the real cause.”

The lion replied, “Tell me quickly, before I eat you up.”

“O great lion,” said the rabbit, “today it was the rabbits’ turn to supply an animal for your meal. When they saw how small we rabbits are, they sent six of us together so you would have enough to eat.

“Yet as we walked to your home, another lion leaped out of a huge hole in the ground, saying, ‘And where do you think you are going? You had better pray to your favorite god before I eat you up.’ I spoke for the other five rabbits, saying, ‘We are travelling to become the dinner of the great lion Numskull, according to our agreement with him.’ To which this great lion said in return, ‘Well, this whole forest belongs to me, which means that the animals can only make an agreement with me. This Numskull is merely a small-time thief. Go call him and bring him here at once. Whichever one of us is stronger shall be the king of the forest, and shall eat all you six rabbits, and whatever other animals he pleases.’

“So said this great lion,” concluded the little rabbit, “and this is why I am late. As for the rest of it, your majesty shall be the judge.”

Numskull grew angry at this. “Show me where this thief of a lion is, and be quick about it. He shall feel my anger.”

“Yes, your majesty,” said the rabbit. “Yet you should know this other lion lives in a fortress with stone walls, where it is difficult to attack him.”

“Little rabbit, show me this thief,” said Numskull. “I will kill him even though he hides within a fortress.”

“Very well,” said the little rabbit. She led Numskull to a place where there was a well. “You see, your majesty, as soon as he saw you, that thief of a lion crawled into his hole. Come, I will show you to him.”

“Hurry,” said Numskull, “for I grow more and more angry.”

The rabbit had Numskull look down into the well. The lion saw his own reflection in the water deep down in the well. He gave a great roar. Out from the well came an echo, sounding twice as loud. Upon seeing another lion and hearing it roar, Numskull hurled himself down the well to fight his rival, and drowned to death.

The little rabbit brought the good news to the other animals. They showered compliments on her, and they all lived in the forest happily and peacefully ever after. From this comes a proverb:

Wisdom by itself is power, but not where
Power and folly together make a pair.
The rabbit played upon the lion’s pride,
Outsmarting him, and so the lion died.

Source: Arthur W. Ryder, The Panchatantra of Vishnu Sharma: English Translation (Univ. of Chicago, 1925), p. 81-88.

The Blue Jackal

Another in a series of stories for liberal religious kids. This one is from the Panchatantra, an ancient Sanskrit text that contains many well-known folk tales.

Once upon a time there lived a jackal named Fierce-Howl. This jackal lived in a cave not far from a city. Now this jackal felt throat pinched with hunger, and one night he went hunting in the city. But the dogs that lived there snapped at him with sharp teeth, and terrified him with their barking. He ran this way and that in order to escape, and blundered through the door of a house where there lived a man who made his living dying cloth. A huge vat of indigo dye was just inside the door, and in his haste the jackal tripped and fell into it.

By the time the jackal had managed to crawl out of the vat, all the dogs had gone. So he slunk back into the forest. Once he was in the forest, some of the other animals who lived there stared at with astonishment at this strange blue-colored beast. They cried out, “What is this creature whose coat is richly colored with the remarkable color?”

Then they fled in terror, and quickly spread the news through the forest: “Some strange beast has come into our forest! No one knows from whence he came, or what he might be like.” And the animals began to say to each other, “We must flee from the forest!” for they knew the old animal proverb: “When you do not know who someone is, it is wise not to trust them.”

Fierce-Howl saw how frightened they all were, and had an idea. He called out to the animals, “Why do you flee in terror from me? The god Indra saw that the animals of the forest have no king, and he has appointed me as your king. My name is Fierce-Howl. You may rest in safety in my strong paws.”

When they heard this speech, the lions, tigers, leopards, monkeys, rabbits, gazelles, jackals, and all the other animals bowed humbly to Fierce-Howl, saying, “Your Majesty, please tell us what our duties are.”

Fierce-Howl made appointed the lion to be prime minister, the tiger to be lord of the king’s bedchamber, the leopard to be the keeper of the king’s food and drink, the elephant to be the royal doorkeeper, and the monkey he appointed the bearer of the royal parasol, to keep the hot sun off the king’s head. But fearing the other jackals might recognize who he really was, he cuffed them and drove them away.

And so the jackal lived in royal state. The lions and tigers killed food animals for this king, and laid them before him. And King Fierce-Howl divided the food animals, and distributed them among his subjects according to their need and their service to the king, just as all kings do.

One day when King Fierce-Howl was sitting in his royal court, he heard a pack of jackals begin to howl. This brought back old memories of the days before he became king. A tear came to his eyes, and without thinking he stood up and began to howl back. The lions and tigers, upon hearing this, realized that their king was nothing but a jackal. The jackal saw that he had made a horrible mistake, and stood there ashamed and downcast.

Lions and tigers do not care for jackals, since jackals may try to steal their food. The lions and tigers looked at each other and said, “We have been deceived by a jackal. He deserves to die.” And that was the end of the jackal.

Source: Arthur W. Ryder, The Panchatantra of Vishnu Sharma: English Translation (Univ. of Chicago, 1925), pp. 122-124.

The Old Man at the Frontier Loses His Horse

Another in a series of stories for liberal religious kids. Dr. Kate Sullivan, the DRE with whom I work, told another version of this story in the Sunday service two days ago. She based her version on the famous Alan Watts retelling of the story. Today, we tracked down the origins of this story. It comes from the Huainanzi, a Chinese philosophical text from the 2nd century CE. I did some more research on my own, found three or four different translations, and decided to do my own retelling of the story, that hews more closely to the Chinese original.

Many years ago, there was a man who was a Daoist, and he and his father understood how good fortune and bad fortune can turn one into the other. This man lived near the border of China, close to where the land of the barbarians began.

One day, his horse got loose and ran away into the land of the barbarians. The man’s neighbors came to tell him how sorry they were that he had lost such a fine horse. They all knew how expensive it would be to get a new horse. But the man’s father said, “How do we know this is bad? Perhaps it is a blessing.”

Some months later, the man’s horse returned from the barbarian lands to his household. Following close behind the man’s horse came another horse. Horses from the barbarian lands were known as being especially fine animals. The man’s neighbors came to tell him how pleased they were for him. But his father said, “How do we know this is good? Perhaps it will bring misfortune.”

Those two horses had babies, and soon the man owned many fine horses. The man’s son loved to ride all these wonderful horses. Alas, one day the son fell off the horse he was riding and broke his thighbone. The man’s neighbors came to tell him how sorry they were that his son was so badly injured that he would walk with a limp the rest of his life. But the man’s father said, “How do we know this is bad? Perhaps it is a blessing.”

The next year, a large army of the barbarian Hu people invaded China from across the border. Every man who was strong and able-bodied took their bows and went to fight. The fighting was so fierce that nine out of every ten young men from the border lands died in battle. But because the man’s son was lame, he could not go off with the army. He and his father and gradfather managed to protect each other, and so they survived the war.

And so you can see:

Good fortune becomes bad fortune,
Bad fortune becomes good fortune;
Their transformations never end,
So deep we cannot understand.

(And from this story comes the Chinese proverb, or chengyu: “When the old man lost his horse, how could you know that it was not good luck.”)

Sources: Huainanzi, ch. 18:7. Based on several translations: (1) Lin Yutang, The Importance of Understanding: Translations from the Chinese (Cleveland/New York: World Publishing, 1963), p. 385; Yutang’s loose translation is somewhat similar to the more famous version told by Alan Watts, but Yutang keeps closer to the original Chinese; (2) The Huainanzi, trans. John S. Major, Sarah A Queen, Andrew Seth Meyer, and Harold D. Roth (Columbia Univ. Press, 2010), pp. 728-729; a scholarly translation; (3) The Chinese Text Project version of the Huainanzi; this is a scholarly website with bilingual text, Chinese and English https://ctext.org/huainanzi/ren-xian-xun#n3395. Story revised 6 March 2026 with simpler language.

Noted with comment

The San Francisco Standard recently published an article by Zara Stone titled “How Gifted Is Your 3-year-old? IQ tests for preschoolers become the norm in Silicon Valley: Psychologists have seen a surge in Bay Area parents seeking a leg-up for admissions to elite schools.” Now remember — it’s elite preschools for which they’re seeking a leg up. That’s 3 years olds.

The long title of the article pretty much tells the whole sick story, but some of the quotes are revealing. The author interviews Tsunami Turner, who works as an educational psychologist at a company in San Jose that provides “child-centered therapy” as well as IQ testing services:

“‘Some parents come in with an IQ number in mind. They are really wanting to have their child hit a specific number,’ she said. Their kids are often very accomplished, taking dace, soccer, art, and music — and know they ‘have to get a certain number.’ They show up ‘highly anxious,’ she said. If scores come in lower than expected, Turner gets pushback and requests for retests.

“‘There’s a lot of societal pressure. The family is incredibly busy and wants their kid in a school that challenges their intellect and supports their development,’ she said. It can spiral quickly. ‘The goal is that a child will get into a good primary school, and that will lead them to getting into a good college, which will lead them to getting a good job and doing really well in the world.'”

In my 13 years working as a minister of religious education in Silicon Valley, I saw some of this — not so much among the families in the UU congregation there, because if you’re trying to fast-track your kids in this way, you don’t waste time on things like moral and spiritual education — but I did see it happening. It really is true, some well-to-do Silicon Valley parents start trying to build their child’s resume starting when the child is 2 years old. I feel this phenomenon is bad for children, and tends to result in accomplished but stunted and less-than-fully-human adults.

The afterlife, according to Socrates

Another in a series of stories for liberal religious kids.

The great philosopher Socrates, who lived two thousand five hundred years ago, once had a long conversation with another philosopher named Gorgias. And during that long conversation, he told a story about what happens to human beings after we die.

Listen, then (said Socrates), as story-tellers say, to a very pretty tale, which I dare say that you may be disposed to regard as a fable only. But I believe this is a true tale, for I mean to speak the truth.

The poet Homer tells us in his immortal poem The Iliad, how the gods Zeus and Poseidon and Pluto divided the empire which they inherited from their father. Poseidon ruled the oceans, Hades ruled the underworld, while Zeus ruled over everything, including over the other gods and goddesses.

Now in the days of Cronos there had existed a law about what happens to human beings after we die. This law has been in force since the beginning and remains so today. The law decrees that human beings who have lived their whole lives in justice and holiness shall go, after they die, to the Islands of the Blessed, where they will dwell in perfect happiness. On the other hand, human beings who have lived unjust and irreverent lives have to go to Tartaros, the house of vengeance and punishment.

In the time of Cronos, and even into the early days of Zeus’s reign, the judgement was given on the very day on which people were to die — the judges were alive, and the people were alive — and the consequence was that the judgements were not well given. So Hades and the authorities from the Islands of the Blessed came to Zeus, and said that some of the people who had died had found their way to the wrong places.

“Well, first of all,” Zeus said, “we must put a stop to human beings knowing the time of their death; for this they at present do know. However, Prometheus, the god of foresight, has already been given the word to stop this in them.

“Next,” said Zeus, “human beings must be stripped of their clothing and indeed of their very bodies, and stripped of everything else before they are judged. In other words, the human beings must be fully dead when they are judged, and not alive as they currently are. Furthermore, whoever judges them also must be dead and covered over with no clothing nor a body, nor with their wealth and families or other fine array. In this way, the judge’s naked soul will be able to perceive the truth of the other naked souls. If the judgment is carried out in this way, then it will be just.”

Zeus then decreed that three of his own human children should become judges, once they died. These three were Minos and Rhadamanthus from Asia, and Aeacus from Europe. When they died, they were assigned to stay in the “meadow at the parting of the ways.” Two roads left this meadow: one road went to the Islands of the Blessed, and the other road went to Tartaros. Rhadamanthus judged all the humans who died in Asia. Aeacus judged all the humans who died in Europe. And Minos served as the final court of appeal, if either of the others had any doubt about a human being who came before them.

Brief commentary

[A couple of points you might want to mention if you talk about this story with actual children:] This “fable” was written nearly half a millennium before the Christian era. And it’s worth remembering that Socrates spoke a different language from us, and his word for truth — aletheia — meant something more like “revealing” or “disclosing.” Aletheia was not the opposite of falsehood, but rather the opposite of forgetfulness. Aletheia was also a goddess.

Source:

Plato, Gorgias 523a – 524a, trans. Benjamin Jowett (1871), with reference to the translation by W. R. M. Lamb (1925).

Quaker Checkers revisited

Back in 2012, I posted a game board and rules for playing “Quaker Checkers.” Photocopies of that game had been passed around for years between Unitarian Universalist Sunday schools. I decided to create a clean copy, and put it online where maybe more people could access it. And if you read the comments on that 2012 post, you’ll see that Quaker Checkers has been played with great success in Unitarian Universalists Sunday schools (and maybe in one or two Quaker First Day Schools as well).

This week, I received email from Sally Q Campbell, who invented the game. Sally said she’s currently talking with a friend of hers about developing an online version of Quaker Checkers. Actually, I would have loved to have an online version during the pandemic when Sunday school had to meet online.

It appears that Sally is one of those endlessly creative people. She is also a songwriter, with a number of songs about peace and spirituality to her credit. On her her Youtube channel, she writes: “I’m a Quaker Singer/songwriter. Many of my songs are given to me in the silence if I will S l o w D o w n.” In fact, I especially like her song “Go Down Low,” which is all about slowing down and centering down. She hadn’t come up with chords for it, so I did. Here’s the standard warning for online chord/lyrics sheets: this is my interpretation of someone else’s song, posted here for educational purposes only; the songwriter Sally Campbell retains the copyright.

(N.B.: she sings “Go Down Low” in B flat.)

All the above is by way of digression. My real point in writing this blog post is to correct something Sally pointed out in her email. She said: “You did make one error when you tidied it up. My board does not have dark and light squares, it’s just a grid. Makes it more of a challenge.”

She’s absolutely right. To make amends, here’s a corrected version of the game board:

Graphic of the game board for Quaker Checkers. — Click on the image above for a printable PDF of the game.

Hammer dyeing for nature journals

“Hammer dyeing” is a technique where you transfer the shape and color of leaves and flowers to cloth or paper by hammering. The process is fairly simple: you place plant material on cloth or heavy paper; cover with cloth, heavy paper, or plastic wrap; then hammer the plant material to release its juices which stain the cloth or paper. This article covers hammer dyeing projects that are intended for inclusion in nature journals.

The technique goes under several different names: “flower pounding,” “hammer printing,” “hammer staining,” “leaf hammering,” “tataki-zome,” “hapa-zome,” “Cherokee leaf pounding,” etc.; but I prefer to call it “hammer dyeing.”

Origins of hammer dyeing

I found no well-documented source giving the origins of hammer dyeing. I suspect the technique arose independently in several cultures.

Some online sources call this technique tataki-zome or hapa-zome, and claim it’s an “ancient Japanese art form,” but without citing any sources. A search on Google Books turns up many references to tataki-zome from 2000 on, but I could find only one reference prior to that date: Rita Buchanan, in Dyes from Nature (Brooklyn Botanical Garden Record, Plants and Gardens, vol. 46 no. 3, autumn 1990), p. 79, says that students learning how to dye in Japan practice tataki-zome: “Using their own plants, they learn dyeing techniques such as batik, itajime — a sort of variegated effect made with wood chips, and tataki-zome, a way of mashing plants on the cloth.” More research is needed to determine if tataki-zome is actually a traditional Japanese art form.

Alabama quilter Bettye Kimbrell (1936-2016), named a National Heritage Fellow by the National Endowment for the Arts, used a hammer dyeing technique she called “Cherokee leaf pounding.” It’s not clear this technique was actually used by the Cherokee people, so it’s best to consider this an American folk art with uncertain historical roots. Kimbrell used this technique in her quilts: “Cherokee leaf pounding is a technique where a fresh green leaf is taped to the backside of muslin fabric with masking tape. Using a hammer, gently pounding the leaf allows the chlorophyll to stain the fabric. After transferring each leaf to the fabric, the stain is set with a vinegar and water solution. The fabric is then dried and entirely hand quilted.” (Kristin G. Congdon and Kara Kelley Hallmark, American Folk Art: A Regional Reference, vol. 1 [Bloomsbury Publishing, 2012], p. 226.) More about her process here.

Screenshot from a video about hammer dyeing. — Screenshot from a PBS video on Bettye Kimbrell, showing her hammer dyeing a quilt. Click on the image to watch the video on the PBS website.

Books and references on hammer dyeing

For a comprehensive reference book on this technique, see Laura C. Martin, The Art and Craft of Pounding Flowers (Mt. Kisco, NY: QVC Publishing, 2001; Rodale Press, 2003). Martin covers which types of flowers, and which types of leaves, produce the best results; mordanting fabrics so the image is perhaps more light-fast; setting the image with a hot iron; etc. Unfortunately the book is now out of print. Used copies can be found on Thriftbooks (please do not buy from evil Amazon). The Internet Archive has a copy online that can be borrowed. The first 32 pages of the book are available on Google Books.

I’ve found references to two other books about the process: (1) Ann Frischkorn and Amy Sandrin, Flower Pounding: Quilt Projects for All Ages (Concord, Calif.: C & T Publishing, 2001); and (2) Linda Rudkin, Flower Pounding (London, U.K.: A & C Black Publishers, 2011). I haven’t seen either book, so can’t comment on them.

PBS has a video with Bettye Kimbrell demonstrating her leaf pounding technique. Sadly, the video does not show her technique for setting the image in vinegar (see below).

My curriculum website has instructions for doing flower pounding with children, using inexpensive watercolor paper. Scroll down to “V/Printmaking,” then go to project “D/Pounding flowers.” The technique I describe has been extensively field tested with children from grade 1-8, and produces reliable results. However, this technique is more focused on process than product (“process art”), and is not suitable for use in a nature journal curriculum.

Cloth with hammer-dyed impression of a fern on it. — Hammer-dyed fern on bleached cotton muslin, 36 inches wide. No mordant or scouring, but the image was set using a steam iron. The darker places are plant material deliberately left on the finished image. Image copyright (c) 2025 Dan Harper.

Hammer dyeing process

Earlier this month, during a week-long family conference at a Unitarian Universalist summer camp, I was leading an ecology workshop that centered around participants recording thoughts, feelings, and observations about the nature in journals (i.e., nature journaling). My co-leader, Rebecca, who is a middle school teacher, contributed to the development of this activity (thanks, Rebecca!). During this workshop, we field-tested a procedure for hammer dyeing. The process, outline below, is easy to set up, and is designed to help participants become more aware of the details of leaves and flowers.

Tools needed

Hammer, at least 1 for every 2 participants (see discussion of hammer types below)
Disposable foam ear plugs
Table with a hard flat surface

Materials

Thin cotton muslin cloth, 36 or 45 inches wide
Leaves, flowers

A rule of thumb for collecting leaves and flowers: Collect just 1 out of 20 similar leaves/flowers.

A note about fabric: I used to go to Joann Fabric to buy cloth for class projects, but they went out of business this year. Michael’s purchased Joann Fabric intellectual property, and one of the local Michael’s stores does carry 45″ cotton muslin in stock. My preferred online source for fabric is Dharma Trading Post, but as of this writing their popular 45 inch cotton muslin is out of stock.

Asian art scavenger hunt

On Sunday, Tracey and I are taking the Coming of Age class for First Parish in Cohasset and First Parish in Norwell into the Harvard University Art Museum.

The point of the trip is to look at Asian art that depictions deities and sacred objects. This gets interesting because Asian religious/cultural traditions have different understandings of divinity than Christianity (or the other two Abrahamic traditions).

For example — is Buddha a deity, or not? The answer: It depends. In some art works, Buddha appears very human; in other art works, Buddha appears more than human. (Similarly with Jain tirthankaras.) And what about Hindu deities? They are clearly gods, but they also have human-like characteristics.

In Western culture, we tend to think all deities are like the Christian God, transcendent and far above humanity. But Asian art reminds us that there is a scale of divinity, from ordinary mortals through divine humans, and through human-like deities, all the way to transcendent unknowable deities.

So that’s the purpose of the scavenger hunt — look for works of art, then figure out how divine a being is portrayed in the art work. To show you better what I mean, here’s the first page of this year’s scavenger hunt:

Updated Greek Myths curriculum

I spent the last two days doing an update of the Greek Myths curriculum on my curriculum website.

Tessa Swartz, then 12 years old, and I developed this curriculum back in 2014. Teachers at the UU Church of Palo Alto did a field test in 2015, and I did a quick revision that year incorporating field test feedback. I was supposed to do a final edit the following year (2016), but that was the year my father died and I wound up dropping the project. Nevertheless, the curriculum continued in use at the Palo Alto church right up through the pandemic.

This final revision retains the same stories originally curated by Tessa and me in 2014. But the following changes were made: revised the lesson plans (some quite heavily); added more illustrations; upgraded existing illustrations; rewrote the introduction; and did an overall edit.

If you have any comments on the curriculum, please leave them here or email me.

A woman chained to a rack cliff, with a sea monster below her and a man hovering above her. — A new illustration just added to the Greek Myths curriculum: Andromeda chained to the rock. This is a detail from a Roman wall painting of the first century BCE, from the Boscotrecase, Italy (public domain image).

Updated curriculum

I just finished an update of an 8-session curriculum (with an additional ninth alternate session) titled “From Long Ago.” This curriculum is based on stories from the old Sophia Fahs book From Long Ago and Many Lands. To avoid some of the biases Fahs had, I went back to the original sources she used, and referred to other translations and sources, to completely rewrite all the stories.

Version 2.0 of the curriculum has now been released — see it here. In addition to cosmetic changes and light editing throughout, I’ve added more illustrations. I also added several stories; version 1 of the curriculum required access to the 1948 Fahs book, but with the addition of these stories, Version 2 is now completely independent of the Fahs book.

I’m planning to release additional over the next few months. These new releases will be numbered as Version 2.x. I’ve already rewritten some other stories from the Fahs book, and am working on new session plans for those stories.

To allow for updates, this is an online-only curriculum for now. Someday if I have time, I may create a print-on-demand version, for those who prefer a hard copy (it’ll be expensive, though, due to the numerous color illustrations).