After a week in Chicago, we are back in Texas. I was rather surprised and somewhat delighted to see the inches of dust gathered around the crack of the door inside our house. The rumors are true! The dust storms are coming.
Today, the sun is shining, and she is my means of grace. My headaches and tears are more frequent these days. I feel nearer to God, and yet the rest I seek eludes me so. I feel most drained when sitting in my office: a box of artificial light.
I go home for lunch, open the windows, feel the breeze, and stretch out in the sun. For a half-hour, everything feels open. My anxiety dissipates, and I simply breathe.
Early on Easter morning, I light a candle and open my notebook.
In the hours after Jesus’ death, the disciples locked themselves in a room. In fear and hopelessness, they barricaded. And yet, into their midst, Jesus comes saying: Peace be with you!
I think about all the locked and barricaded places in the world and in my own self. War zones. Refugee camps. Segregated churches. And this gives me hope. Jesus comes whether we are ready, whether he is invited, and despite the walls of fear or hate we build.
And why?
The next scene is beautiful. He blows on them. In an incredible reenacting of creation, the Holy Spirit fills them. The breath of Life. They are new creations. The disciples are liberated from their chains of fear, empowered, they no longer need to remain locked in a room of death terrified of the outside world. The peace given to them is power: power to bless, power to heal, and power to overcome hate.
I can’t get over that image of Jesus blowing. I imagine it happened so gently, and the next minute everything changed. I think these moments still happen if we are willing to accept Jesus in our midst. And even if we are not, he might just show up anyway, when we least expect it, and say – Receive!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
death and more death. why?
Death and More Death. Why? - Baghdad Bureau - Iraq From the Inside - New York Times Blog
"God, are we all bad people here? If so, why do you not use your superior power to terminate this country. Or if not, why don’t you help people to stay alive, next to their beloved."
"God, are we all bad people here? If so, why do you not use your superior power to terminate this country. Or if not, why don’t you help people to stay alive, next to their beloved."
Thursday, March 6, 2008
It’s Time to Get Unhooked: Part 1 (or Hate the Poison, not the People)
I’m driving home for lunch listening to Rush Limbaugh rant about “those people.” I smile thinking about the emails going around on the other side filled with suspicion and claims of tricks in the aftermath of the March 4th primaries. They are calling this election trench warfare. Meanwhile, I read a story from the BBC confirming what has widely been assumed: the post-election violence in Kenya was in part orchestrated by the government. On top of the violence in Palestine, Sudan, and the US bombing in Somalia this week, I should be feeling very angry.
But, instead I smile. I’m smiling because for the moment I’m not moved to outrage by claims of what “those people” are doing or even knowledge of what my own people are doing. For so long, my quest for social justice has been fueled by guilt and anxiety about being a white, privileged, (Christian), American, for being part of a system that practices and supports apartheid against the rest of the world. But recently, I have been discovering a different type of fuel.
It’s the type of fuel that lets me realize that despite systemic violence, evil, and oppression, I don’t need to play the game of “those people.” I don’t need to be driven by a spirit of condemnation. I don’t need to stand in accusation or judgment. My experience tells me that the root of our problems is the clouds of suspicion, fear, and guilt that hang in the air we breathe. These clouds poison us until we are ready to kill – literally and metaphorically – brother and sister, lover and friend.
On the other hand, my experience also affirms to me the goodness and dignity of people. Despite the length and tediousness of caucusing the other night, it was an opportunity to connect with diverse people. I had my initial suspicions, but I sought to reach across the divide and assume the best in people. I greeted everyone and celebrated that they were engaged, no matter who they were supporting. I talked with a Hispanic man about the shift in generations – how his parents never voted and only worked, how he and his wife worked but also developed a political and social consciousness encouraging their children to both work and learn, and how his children are now all in college and one of his son’s wants to teach sociology. I loved what he told me about discipline – how it does not mean to punish or instill in your child the sense that they are bad, but rather how he emphasizes the word disciple and seeks instead to teach his children and affirm their dignity.
I’m still working this all out, but I do think there is a difference between speaking out against violence, oppression, pride and idolatry, and condemning and denying the humanity of others. The former is righteous and prophetic. The latter is degrading and insidious forming the very barriers that lead to war and abuse. Every time was separate ourselves from “those people” we deny their humanity and our own. This promises momentary advantage but sucks the life out of everyone.
It is tempting for me to criticize and other those who are different from me. It is tempting to stand in accusation or condemnation of my fellow citizens. It is tempting to draw dividing lines between me and “those people” for justifiably good reasons. But I want to stop being fueled by my guilt-ridden self-righteous desire for separation.
It’s time to get unhooked.
More to come…
But, instead I smile. I’m smiling because for the moment I’m not moved to outrage by claims of what “those people” are doing or even knowledge of what my own people are doing. For so long, my quest for social justice has been fueled by guilt and anxiety about being a white, privileged, (Christian), American, for being part of a system that practices and supports apartheid against the rest of the world. But recently, I have been discovering a different type of fuel.
It’s the type of fuel that lets me realize that despite systemic violence, evil, and oppression, I don’t need to play the game of “those people.” I don’t need to be driven by a spirit of condemnation. I don’t need to stand in accusation or judgment. My experience tells me that the root of our problems is the clouds of suspicion, fear, and guilt that hang in the air we breathe. These clouds poison us until we are ready to kill – literally and metaphorically – brother and sister, lover and friend.
On the other hand, my experience also affirms to me the goodness and dignity of people. Despite the length and tediousness of caucusing the other night, it was an opportunity to connect with diverse people. I had my initial suspicions, but I sought to reach across the divide and assume the best in people. I greeted everyone and celebrated that they were engaged, no matter who they were supporting. I talked with a Hispanic man about the shift in generations – how his parents never voted and only worked, how he and his wife worked but also developed a political and social consciousness encouraging their children to both work and learn, and how his children are now all in college and one of his son’s wants to teach sociology. I loved what he told me about discipline – how it does not mean to punish or instill in your child the sense that they are bad, but rather how he emphasizes the word disciple and seeks instead to teach his children and affirm their dignity.
I’m still working this all out, but I do think there is a difference between speaking out against violence, oppression, pride and idolatry, and condemning and denying the humanity of others. The former is righteous and prophetic. The latter is degrading and insidious forming the very barriers that lead to war and abuse. Every time was separate ourselves from “those people” we deny their humanity and our own. This promises momentary advantage but sucks the life out of everyone.
It is tempting for me to criticize and other those who are different from me. It is tempting to stand in accusation or condemnation of my fellow citizens. It is tempting to draw dividing lines between me and “those people” for justifiably good reasons. But I want to stop being fueled by my guilt-ridden self-righteous desire for separation.
It’s time to get unhooked.
More to come…
shaking it off
Shaking It Off - Migraine - Opinion - New York Times Blog
This is a really honest account about depression and migraines from the singer of Wilco. As someone who has lived around migraines in my family and seen the effects, I found the account and connections to mental health really interesting and moving.
This is a really honest account about depression and migraines from the singer of Wilco. As someone who has lived around migraines in my family and seen the effects, I found the account and connections to mental health really interesting and moving.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
democracy now
Last night was my first taste of caucusing in the notorious Texas two-step. The Obama campaign made it sound like it would be quick and painless, but we were there for three hours! We waited for about an hour outside in the cold – Obama supporters on one side of the sidewalk, Clinton supporters on the other. In our precinct, the voters seemed to be pretty split demographically. My experience definitely didn’t support the race theory of African American for Obama and Hispanics for Clinton. I even met a Hispanic couple who were split on their support, which I really liked. The only difference between the camps really seemed to be age and experience. Most people for Clinton were older and solidly Democrat. On our side, there were a lot of students and young professionals who had never participated in the political process before and also a significant amount of Republicans. The mood was jovial, though an extremely loud and overbearing Clinton supporter seemed to get on everyone’s nerves.
A humorous moment occured when the sprinklers on the Obama side came on and a mass exodus to the Clinton side ensued.
Once the caucus started everyone was patient as 62 supports entered a small room and had to wait for about an hour to be verified that they had in fact voted in the primary. The final count came down to 30 Clinton supporters and 31 Obama supporters with 1 undecided. The 1 undecided took his sweet-ass time keeping everyone in suspense and then chose Clinton. Making this an even split, we were then forced to have a COIN toss for delegates since 9 delegates cannot be split down the middle. Ah, the democratic process in all its glory. The coin toss came out with Clinton on top, so they got 5 delegates and we got 4. We then split up to elect our delegates and vote for them. I’m pleased to report that Than is an official precinct 53 delegate to the county convention.
After this lengthy process we came back into the room where the Chair opened it up for resolutions. Now, this is where it all got dicey. The lone undecided approaches the Chair with at least 20 pages of single spaced resolutions! I’m not kidding. The chairman started to read each one and we were supposed to stay and vote over each. After the fourth resolution, Than and I couldn’t take it anymore. We were starving and had had our fill of democracy. So, we snuck out.
I’m pretty disappointed with last night’s results, but more than that I’m exhausted. I think it’s healthy. I’m relieved that Texas is over because I don’t really have the energy to stay as engaged as I have been. I doubt I’ll ever caucus again (in Texas at least) unless there is another candidate like Obama, but even then…politics is politics. It is exciting, but it is also grueling…and it is not the final word, at least in my life. I’m grateful that I can now shift my gaze to other things with a healthy dose of realism. As much as I like Obama, it really makes me sad how much must be sacrificed to really participate in politics. I admire those who do it and I feel sad for them as they are forced to exalt in my mind a false notion of nation and patriotism.
I don’t regret getting involved at all, and I will continue to stay engaged. It’s been a fascinating process. But when Senator McCain talks about our hunger to devote ourselves to a higher cause (the USA) or Obama talks about America being the hope of the world, I simply cannot concur.
A humorous moment occured when the sprinklers on the Obama side came on and a mass exodus to the Clinton side ensued.
Once the caucus started everyone was patient as 62 supports entered a small room and had to wait for about an hour to be verified that they had in fact voted in the primary. The final count came down to 30 Clinton supporters and 31 Obama supporters with 1 undecided. The 1 undecided took his sweet-ass time keeping everyone in suspense and then chose Clinton. Making this an even split, we were then forced to have a COIN toss for delegates since 9 delegates cannot be split down the middle. Ah, the democratic process in all its glory. The coin toss came out with Clinton on top, so they got 5 delegates and we got 4. We then split up to elect our delegates and vote for them. I’m pleased to report that Than is an official precinct 53 delegate to the county convention.
After this lengthy process we came back into the room where the Chair opened it up for resolutions. Now, this is where it all got dicey. The lone undecided approaches the Chair with at least 20 pages of single spaced resolutions! I’m not kidding. The chairman started to read each one and we were supposed to stay and vote over each. After the fourth resolution, Than and I couldn’t take it anymore. We were starving and had had our fill of democracy. So, we snuck out.
I’m pretty disappointed with last night’s results, but more than that I’m exhausted. I think it’s healthy. I’m relieved that Texas is over because I don’t really have the energy to stay as engaged as I have been. I doubt I’ll ever caucus again (in Texas at least) unless there is another candidate like Obama, but even then…politics is politics. It is exciting, but it is also grueling…and it is not the final word, at least in my life. I’m grateful that I can now shift my gaze to other things with a healthy dose of realism. As much as I like Obama, it really makes me sad how much must be sacrificed to really participate in politics. I admire those who do it and I feel sad for them as they are forced to exalt in my mind a false notion of nation and patriotism.
I don’t regret getting involved at all, and I will continue to stay engaged. It’s been a fascinating process. But when Senator McCain talks about our hunger to devote ourselves to a higher cause (the USA) or Obama talks about America being the hope of the world, I simply cannot concur.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
what have we done?
Yesterday, the US bombed a town in Somalia. The intention was to kill suspected terrorists, but civilians and children were wounded and possibly killed. It was just a tiny blip in the news ---
From the BBC:
"We are poor civilians living in a simple town - what have we done to deserve this bombing?"
Yes, what have they done, and what have we done? Does anyone deserve to be bombed?
For the full story, click here.
From the BBC:
"We are poor civilians living in a simple town - what have we done to deserve this bombing?"
Yes, what have they done, and what have we done? Does anyone deserve to be bombed?
For the full story, click here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)