Angry…and disappointed

I’ve been trying to listen to my feelings this last week, trying to understand just how I feel–and why. Some days I’ve been more angry…some more disappointed. So I guess that if you asked me how I’m feeling now, I’d have to say it’s a combination of the two–and which one takes precedence depends on what I am reading and seeing in the news on any given day.

Why? I’m not even sure where to start…there are so many things mixed up together.

But…here’s at least a beginning list (not in any particular order). You may not agree with all my issues–but please don’t tell me I shouldn’t feel this way! Many of these issues will affect my grandkids and great-grandkids…nieces and nephews. I have a right to feel angry and disappointed.

  • After so many shootings we still can’t agree on common-sense ways to deal with gun violence. We can’t even agree that gun violence is a problem! And so our children continue to go to school, worried about whether they will survive another day.
  • We can’t agree on the need for mental health help. There aren’t enough beds for people needing help…and too much stigma about asking for help.
  • The after-effects of slavery are still very active among us–but many of us are not willing to acknowledge the long-term effects that we’re still dealing with. Particularly those of us who have had the privileges that go with being white find it difficult to empathize with people of color.
  • I remember as a child believing that the police were my friends. I still (mostly) believe that–but I am also concerned when I see so many white police being given a pass because “they feared for their lives” and shot a person of color…but persons of color are far too often not given the same pass in similar situations.
  • We have demonized those who are seeking to escape violence by coming to America, a land that used to be seen as a land of promise. Now that promise seems to be more that we will separate families with no plans on how to reunite them…that we will refuse to acknowledge our role in creating those situations that they are fleeing.
  • Our environment is in danger, and yet we seem to blithely ignore the danger signs. Those who speak out for change are ridiculed–and our current administration is determined to roll back all the actions that were previously taken to help deal with the situation.
  • Speaking of our current administration, I am appalled at the gratuitous cruelty that is expressed by so many in it. I am also appalled that many of those who have been named to run parts of our government are individuals who have expressed determination to dismantle those very parts they are supposed to run!
  • I do not understand how individuals who call themselves followers of Jesus can continue to support a leader who believes himself to be above the law…whose morals are appalling…who doesn’t seem to be able to tell the truth if his life depended on it…who mocks and scorns those whom he sees as “less than” or different.
  • While I understand that we will not necessarily agree on the what/why someone is LGTBQ+, I do not understand the refusal to offer that community–a long-persecuted community–protections re: housing, jobs, and medical care.
  • I am appalled at the desire of white men to control women’s bodies…often (and obviously!) without knowing what they are talking about.
  • I hear many saying that they “value the sanctity of all life”–yet they are willing to possibly put women to death for having an abortion. They support the death penalty. They are unwilling to fund the programs that would help support those that they want to see born. It feels like they are pro-birth only, not pro-life.
  • White supremacy terrorist is on the rise in our country–but we are unwilling to call it by that name.

Is that enough? If I took more time, my list would be longer. These are just the constant concerns…the ones at the front of my mind.

I keep trying to find ways to build bridges…but I’m finding it harder.

I have many friends I love but who make statements and stand for things that seem antithetical to what I hear them saying they believe.

I honestly don’t know how much longer I can go on as I have.

I am feeling much more understanding of people like Martin Luther or Dietrich Bonhoeffer who found themselves pushed to a point where they felt they had no choice but to take a stand–regardless of the cost.

 

 

 

What is our future?

I grew up believing that our future was hopeful…that we were on the cusp of solving many of the problems our world faced. Elected officials might (and did!) disagree with each other on how to solve some of those problems, but they were willing to spend time in serious and honest discussion, trying to find ways to work together.

Now I’m not so sure.

  • I see an increase in saber-rattling.
  • I see distrust of science–and an almost fiendish delight in ignoring science to the point that we are in danger of destroying this planet that we live on.
  • I see an unwillingness to even engage in any kind of serious discussion–by any of us. We don’t seem to be willing to try to listen to each other, much less find ways in which we can work together to solve the significant problems that face us.
  • There is an increase in “I want mine and I don’t care what it does to anyone else or to the planet.”
  • White supremacy is on the rise, with its determination that all other races are “less than” and should be destroyed.
  • The rights of women to make decisions concerning their bodies and their health are being eroded by men who have no understanding of women’s health needs or how a woman’s body works.
  • Children–our precious future–are not being given the education they need and deserve to create a future of hope.
  • We denigrate and demean those who are members of faith traditions other than our own, unwilling to even try to understand their traditions while at the same time demanding that they conform to our own.
  • Families are often being torn apart through policies that are gratuitously cruel.
  • Members of minority groups (immigrants, LBGTQ+, people of color, disabled, single parents) are losing the protections that helped provide a positive future for them.
  • While we talk about extremism in other faith traditions, we seem unwilling to recognize it in our own.
  • We are destroying our environment. Multiple species are on the verge of extinction…and we don’t seem to care. CO2 levels are at an all-time high…and we laugh it off.
  • We are afraid of our diversity.

Is there still hope for us?

I think so…and these two quotes give me hope.

First, from Howard Zinn, a historian and playwright:

To be hopeful in bad times is based on the fact that human history is not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us energy to act. And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand Utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

But perhaps more importantly, this one from Anne Frank:

In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness, I hear the ever approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again.

What’s our future? It’s up to us.

 

Words hurt…or heal

I’ve been thinking a lot about words recently…about words and the impact they can have on us.

Those of us who are old enough to remember the wars the United States has been involved in–or whose parents or grandparents told us about them–can remember the ugly names we used to describe our enemies.

Those words were designed to dehumanize those we were fighting…to keep us from seeing them as human beings like us…with families who loved them…who had similar dreams and hopes as we did. And it succeeded–far beyond the war(s). Many of those words were used to describe people from those countries well beyond the end of the “official” war.

The United States is not the only country that did this. Others did as well. The example that had one of the most horrific results was Nazi Germany–with its description of “the other” (handicapped, Jews, Roma) as “vermin,” “mongrels,” “subhuman.”

The sad thing is that we see much of that being repeated today. People fleeing violence and poverty are being described by the current administration as “criminals” and “rapists” who are “infesting” the United States. The truth is that less than 1% of those seeking asylum are people we might fear. The rest are families or individuals who are trying to find a safe place–and who want to build better lives for themselves and their families.

I’m reminded of a book I loved by Robert Heinlein–Methuselah’s Children. It was the story of a particularly long-lived group of families…people who lived long enough that they became resented by those who lived “normal” lifespans. At one point in the book, as the families are gathering to try to find a safe place, Lazarus Long (the patriarch of the family) is watching and reading the news–and shows how subtle use of language is separating them from everyone else and demonizing them…making them “less than” and also someone to fear.

Yet words also have the power to heal and to bring us together. We have to be intentional to do this…to use words that include “the other”…to call out those words that are intended to divide us and foment hate.

It’s our choice. It’s easy to join the mobs that call out for separation…for dehumanizing and fearing those who are different. It’s more difficult to stand for those who have been marginalized…to delight in diversity rather than fear it.

But one brings death…the other brings life.

Some thoughts on cohabitation…

I’ve been watching and reading discussions on cohabitation and how it relates to the possibility for individuals’ ministry and their relationship to the church (specifically my faith community, but I know it’s problems in others as well).

At one point in my life, the answer would have been easy. Cohabitation was wrong. Period. No exceptions…no extenuating circumstances…no other perspective.

But as I’ve grown—both chronologically and spiritually—I’m realizing that the answer is NOT easy. And so I find myself living in a gap between my emotional feelings that developed so many years ago and the challenge to try to see through new eyes.

I’ve wondered if our perspective on marriage needs to be re-evaluated to help us look at the challenges cohabitation raises. Yes, it’s been around for a long time—but for many years, marriage was more a passing of “property”…of the woman into the custody of her husband. Even in Christian countries, marriage was not particularly church-related. Again, it was often for the passing of property and the cementing of political alliances—not the commitment of two people who loved each other and who wanted to spend their lives together.

In fact, many times that commitment was simply expressed through a choice to begin living together…perhaps acknowledged by a hand-fasting or some other communal acknowledgment.

While I am in full support of marriage, that has been relatively easy for me. I am a heterosexual female, and so there was no question but that marriage was a probability for me (although I also now realize that was not necessarily a given).

But for many of my LGBTQ+ brothers and sisters, marriage has not been any kind of possibility/probability until fairly recently. While some have chosen to not commit in any way, others have found their own way of making commitments to each other—commitments that are as real as the commitment my husband and I made to each other. Should they not be honored as well? In many ways, we are asking an entire community to make changes in how they relate to the rest of us without our being willing to acknowledge our lack of commitment to them…and an awareness of how that has shaped their community.

There are also challenges for heterosexual couples as well. Because of the way some of our financial systems are set up, marriage for older individuals may mean losing financial security. There are many reasons why both older and younger individuals may choose to forgo marriage, and I would not presume to know them all.

I don’t necessarily agree with some of these choices. But I have known—and continue to know—many couples who are in longterm committed relationships whose commitment to each other is as strong (and sometimes stronger) as the commitments of my married friends.

So while I strongly support marriage, I also don’t think that a “one size fits all” model works either. When we try to force everyone into a single box, we risk missing out on possibilities of ministry—both given and received.

I believe we need to look seriously at how commitment is expressed. In many cases, that may be through marriage. But not always—and I think that to insist that marriage is the only expression of a committed relationship does harm…to the individuals involved, to the church, and to the community.

Too many parallels…

As I have been looking back through history recently, I am struck by what seem to be parallels between the US today and Germany in the 1930s. They’re not complete parallels, but there are enough similarities that I find myself wondering…

Many Germans in the 1930s were struggling financially. They wanted a strong leader who would make things right again, and so many voted for Adolf Hitler, a man who promised that he would restore Germany to its pre-WWI greatness. It didn’t matter to his supporters that there were followers who were willing to resort to violence to help Hitler enforce his policies.

As is often the case when things are not going well, humans need to find a scapegoat. The situation must be the fault of someone else…that takes any responsibility away decisions from we might have made. And the easiest scapegoats to find are those who are somehow “other.” In Germany it became the Jews. They were described as criminals, parasites, vermin who needed to be exterminated.

Today I see similar language being used towards those who are “other” in the US. Immigrants are being described as invaders, animals, criminals—who need to be exterminated lest they somehow infect the “white race.” How can we not see the similarities?

I find myself wondering as well about the role of the church in all of this. There are some differences between Christianity in the 1930s Germany and Christianity in the US today, but there are also striking similarities.

Germany had a strong Christian background, although it was also laced with a strain of anti-Semitism that has unfortunately been a part of Christian history for centuries. It was easy for Hitler and his party to tap into that strain while at the same time claiming to be in support of Christian values. And also unfortunately, many Christian pastors fell in line, giving Hitler a cover of legitimacy by their support.

There were some—both members and pastors—who saw this relationship between government and the church to be problematic. They felt that rather than following Jesus, too many were following Hitler. Eventually some joined together to try to draw the church back to its foundation where the worship of Jesus was paramount, creating what became known as “the Confessing church.”

I realize this is a simplified portrayal, but the parallels continue to haunt me. Is Christianity in America at the same crossroads Christianity was in Germany in the 1930s? Are those of us who understand Jesus’ call to be ministers to the vulnerable facing the challenges of (1) standing in opposition to the language that negates the humanity of the “other” and (2) needing to band together across denominational lines to try to draw Christianity back to its foundation of worshiping Christ instead of binding the ties tightly between church and government?

I struggle with these questions because I have people whom I like who would say that I am wrong in these feelings. And yet I also cannot ignore the call I feel to stand and speak in support of the vulnerable. I realize that may mean losing friends, and I regret that. But again, the Jesus I worship worked with and ministered to the vulnerable and marginalized—can I do less?

 

Our words have consequences

There’s a children’s song that includes these lyrics: “be careful, little eyes, what you see…be careful, little feet, where you go…be careful, little mouth, what you say.”

I thought of that when I heard the news of the mosque attacks in Christchurch, New Zealand–and the fact that one of those arrested had a social media account linked to an 85-page anti-immigrant, anti-Muslim manifesto.

Our words have consequences!

When we demonize entire groups of people–whether because of their religion, their sexual or gender identity, their politics, or any other way we choose to divide into us versus them–we should not be surprised when someone then finds it acceptable to attack those same groups.

We then hear words of condolence and condemnation–often from the same individuals/organizations/entities that demonized them in the first place.

Such hypocrisy!

We may not always agree with each other. In fact, I’m sure we won’t. But it’s possible to disagree without being disagreeable.

When we are willing to learn about each other–why we worship the way we do…why we have chosen the political path we are on…what it means to have a gender or sexual identity different from what is considered the norm–then we will see that those we call “them” often have the same challenges, concerns, cares, and hopes that we do.

They want better lives for their children–just as we do. They want a place to live and enough to eat–just as we do. They want a world where war isn’t the norm–just as we do.

Finding the solutions to the problems in the world is not going to be easy. But our words can help us find ways toward peace–or create more violence.

Which kind of world do we want? Our words do have consequences.

Talking with–or at?–each other

As I’ve listened to–and read–what passes for conversation today on a variety of topics, I find myself wondering if we’re trying to talk with each other or if we’re simply content to talk at each other.

What do I mean?

We may use the same words with each other–but it’s becoming more and more obvious that we often attach different meanings to them. It’s like a humorous saying I’ve heard about America and Britain–that we are two countries separated by a common language!

Part of the difficulty comes because we often approach our conversations from completely different foundations. Several years ago, the Smithsonian published an article from the relatively new field of political neuroscience suggesting that our political differences may have some biological basis. A key takeaway (at least for me) from the article is this:

Andrea Kuszewski, a researcher who has written about political neuroscience, would rather put a positive spin on what it could mean for politics. She says this kind of knowledge could help open up communication, or at least ease hostility between the country’s two major political parties.

“Each side is going to have to recognize that not everyone thinks like them, processes information like them, or values the same types of things…With the state our country is in right now, I don’t think we have any choice but to cowboy up and do whatever needs to be done in order to reach some common ground.”

A current article from Yahoo! News shows how difficult these conversations are going to be. What do we hear when we listen to each other? Or are we really listening? or just figuring out how we’re going to respond to what we think we hear?

Common ground seems to be really hard to find right now. But unless we are willing to do the hard work to try to find it, we are going to continue to become more and more divided–and instead of conversations that can help us find solutions, we will end up talking at (and past) each other!