The other morning, I went to the basement to do laundry. Our cat, Andre, came racing excitedly out of the unfinished, roughed out "bedroom." I looked to see what was going on. Outside of the "bedroom" window, two birds, one bigger and one smaller, were hopping and flapping their wings frantically. They were below ground level, in the little semi-circular space outside the window.
The larger bird managed to hop onto the ground, then hopped right back into the semicircular hole. I didn't know if he was being a bird brain or trying to show the other bird how to get out. The other bird continued to hop and flap, but was unable to rise from the hole.
I considered trying to save the smaller bird, but thought, he's close to getting out, and I'll just scare him. However, when I went back down to check laundry, he was still there, desperately flapping, and his companion was gone. (As a bit of background, due to some early childhood experiences, I tend to be frightened of animals.)
OK, I thought, I'll find something to scoop him up with. So I put on my coat, found a basket and small wastecan and headed towards the side of the house. I realized my reluctance to do this was not so much that I knew I would scare the bird half to death as that I would end up being startled by his unpredictable movements. My experience in these cases is that a bird will sit very still, then all of sudden start flapping and flying crazily at you, so you have to brace yourself for the commotion.
When I circled around to the side of the house, the bird was gone. I scooped out all the leaves in front of the submerged window, but no bird was among them, dead or alive. I could only imagine hearing me coming had terrified him enough to give him the adrenaline surge he needed to escape. Needless to say, I was relieved.
It occurred to me as I got involved in this bird salvation mission, that one of the things I I fear most is fear in others. I would rather avoid an encounter with a fearful animal or human that could veer into something unpredictable, into a great flapping of wings flying at me at any moment, into an encounter with chaos and misunderstanding, than get involved.
However, I also realized that when I can't avoid it, I will act. It would have been a bungle, but I would have gotten the bird free. So I am trying to remember that even awkward acts to reach out are better than doing nothing. I am trying to keep to a mindset of reaching out. So my question is, how do you overcome your fear of the other -whatever is other to you--enough to act? How do you allow yourself to be vulnerable?
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Words that have power
I have had some difficulties again posting to my blog, so I am a little behindhand! But here goes:
Third month (March) 29, From "Mind the Heavenly Treasure," a devotional based on the writings of Quakerism's founder, George Fox:
"Walk as children of the light," Ephesians 5:8
"... keep close to the light in you, and do not look forth at words that proceed from a vain and light mind; but at the power of words. For the words of God, that proceed from him, are powerful and mighty in operation."
As I was pondering Fox's words, I received a Quaker Ranter post quoting from Luke:
"But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again ... Give and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom" (I've also read "lap" for bosom)
and
" ... why call ye me, Lord, Lord and do not the things which I say? Whosoever cometh to me and heareth my sayings, and doeth them ... He is like a man which built a house, and digged deep, and laid the foundation upon a rock. But he that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that without a foundation built an house upon the earth; against which the stream did beat vehemently, and immediately fell; and the ruin of that house was great."
Are there words today having power for you?
Third month (March) 29, From "Mind the Heavenly Treasure," a devotional based on the writings of Quakerism's founder, George Fox:
"Walk as children of the light," Ephesians 5:8
"... keep close to the light in you, and do not look forth at words that proceed from a vain and light mind; but at the power of words. For the words of God, that proceed from him, are powerful and mighty in operation."
As I was pondering Fox's words, I received a Quaker Ranter post quoting from Luke:
"But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again ... Give and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom" (I've also read "lap" for bosom)
and
" ... why call ye me, Lord, Lord and do not the things which I say? Whosoever cometh to me and heareth my sayings, and doeth them ... He is like a man which built a house, and digged deep, and laid the foundation upon a rock. But he that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that without a foundation built an house upon the earth; against which the stream did beat vehemently, and immediately fell; and the ruin of that house was great."
Are there words today having power for you?
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Reading the Bible in 20 months:violence
One thing that struck me while reading the Bible straight through during a 20 month (supposedly one year) period was how saturated it is in violence. The levels of violence are truly mind-boggling, from Jael hammering a tent peg through an enemy's head to mass slaughter, genocide, murder, mass murder, rape, child sacrifice (this is after Solomon, when the Israelites have lost their moorings), mutilation ... the head reels after a time.
Most, if not all, of the revered figures in the Old or First Testament, are violent: Moses murders a man, Saul slaughters the Amalekites, David kills people for insbordination at the slightest provocation, slaughters his enemies, has his friend killed so he can marry his wife ... Elijah kills the 450 priests of Baal .... To be a player, a leader, as opposed to a prophet or observer like Isaiah, almost inevitably seems to involve hair-raisingly barbarous behavior.
And then, in the New Testament, it stops. Jesus is clearly a player, not a prophet, and is explicitly embedded in a Moses-David-Elijah narrative. He's seen as the second David, the new Messiah. Yet he is nothing like anyone who came before. I don't think I "got" this fully until I read the Bible straight through. People often point to Jesus' throwing the moneylenders out of the Temple with a whip of knotted cords as proof that he was willing to engage in violence, but this action is nothing, nothing!!, in comparison to do his predecessors. Not one person is killed and nobody, apparently, is serioulsy injured. In fact, it's possible nobody was injured at all. Jesus scares people and knocks over tables, scattering a crowd. After the bloodbath of the Old Testament, this is like tapping someone on the shoulder and asking them politely to leave to room.
So in the New Testament, we get a new thing. Jesus' story, at the end of his life, is saturated in ultra-violence, but none of it is his doing. He is the willing sacrificial victim, modeling a new way of confronting violence and oppression. After his death and resurrection, his followers are also dogged by violence. We especially remember Stephen's stoning. Paul is pursued in violent ways. But as we proceed through the New Testament, we see the newness. Rather than being preoccupied with violence and how to protect and defend against violent aggressors (which is what most of the Old Testament is about, with the Jehovah God central to that protection), the New Testament shifts to focus on building a nonviolent community based on love, equality, integrity, compassion and imitation of Christ. The violence is out there, but it becomes increasingly peripheral to the concerns of this new community living a new covenant. It's not through the New Testament, but through other historical accounts that we learn that Paul is beheaded, Peter and Andrew apparently crucified, many ordinary Christ followers killed by the state in gruesome ways. These are not the central concerns of the New Testament writers. They are concerned with how to live out Jesus' gospel of love. It is stunning.
How did this happen? If you have read the Bible straight through, have you had illuminations?
Most, if not all, of the revered figures in the Old or First Testament, are violent: Moses murders a man, Saul slaughters the Amalekites, David kills people for insbordination at the slightest provocation, slaughters his enemies, has his friend killed so he can marry his wife ... Elijah kills the 450 priests of Baal .... To be a player, a leader, as opposed to a prophet or observer like Isaiah, almost inevitably seems to involve hair-raisingly barbarous behavior.
And then, in the New Testament, it stops. Jesus is clearly a player, not a prophet, and is explicitly embedded in a Moses-David-Elijah narrative. He's seen as the second David, the new Messiah. Yet he is nothing like anyone who came before. I don't think I "got" this fully until I read the Bible straight through. People often point to Jesus' throwing the moneylenders out of the Temple with a whip of knotted cords as proof that he was willing to engage in violence, but this action is nothing, nothing!!, in comparison to do his predecessors. Not one person is killed and nobody, apparently, is serioulsy injured. In fact, it's possible nobody was injured at all. Jesus scares people and knocks over tables, scattering a crowd. After the bloodbath of the Old Testament, this is like tapping someone on the shoulder and asking them politely to leave to room.
So in the New Testament, we get a new thing. Jesus' story, at the end of his life, is saturated in ultra-violence, but none of it is his doing. He is the willing sacrificial victim, modeling a new way of confronting violence and oppression. After his death and resurrection, his followers are also dogged by violence. We especially remember Stephen's stoning. Paul is pursued in violent ways. But as we proceed through the New Testament, we see the newness. Rather than being preoccupied with violence and how to protect and defend against violent aggressors (which is what most of the Old Testament is about, with the Jehovah God central to that protection), the New Testament shifts to focus on building a nonviolent community based on love, equality, integrity, compassion and imitation of Christ. The violence is out there, but it becomes increasingly peripheral to the concerns of this new community living a new covenant. It's not through the New Testament, but through other historical accounts that we learn that Paul is beheaded, Peter and Andrew apparently crucified, many ordinary Christ followers killed by the state in gruesome ways. These are not the central concerns of the New Testament writers. They are concerned with how to live out Jesus' gospel of love. It is stunning.
How did this happen? If you have read the Bible straight through, have you had illuminations?
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
On Family photos
Someone recently asked me why I don't have a photo of Sophie on the blog. It has been on my mind since the photo of me with the boys went up that I need pix of Sophie and Roger, so that it doesn't look as if I'm effacing half the family. I just haven't done it yet. This is because Sophie lives on campus (a whole stone's throw away!) which means she's harder to get hold of than the boys, who live in the house with us. Sophie has a busy, structured life. Also getting to her means peeling her away from her boyfriend, no mean feat!
While it crossed my mind that the Sophie-less photo didn't "look" good, ironically, I think if I were worried about Sophie feeling left out, I would have been more scrupulous about appearances. In other words, being openly dysfunctional (I suppose if I were fully functional I would have gotten that pix up by now!) probably is more functional than trying to hide it. As it is, I find Sophie an amazing, beautiful and high-spirited 17 year old. She is a remarkable and well-loved (by me and others!) person.
I asked Sophie about posing in a photo with me. She is glad to be included on the blog but has been in no rush to be photographed. So we will get this moving along ... soon, I hope!
And as for Roger--love him too, good marriage, etc, even if he's not currently in a blog photo.
While it crossed my mind that the Sophie-less photo didn't "look" good, ironically, I think if I were worried about Sophie feeling left out, I would have been more scrupulous about appearances. In other words, being openly dysfunctional (I suppose if I were fully functional I would have gotten that pix up by now!) probably is more functional than trying to hide it. As it is, I find Sophie an amazing, beautiful and high-spirited 17 year old. She is a remarkable and well-loved (by me and others!) person.
I asked Sophie about posing in a photo with me. She is glad to be included on the blog but has been in no rush to be photographed. So we will get this moving along ... soon, I hope!
And as for Roger--love him too, good marriage, etc, even if he's not currently in a blog photo.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Remembering Agnes: A Lesson in Nonviolence
Recently, Jack Hoeffer, who I met at my recent Quaker retreat, sent me a pamplet about Margaret Hope Bacon, a Quaker and a conscientious objector during World War II. The pamphlet is a reprint of a portion of her book, "Love is the Hardest Lesson."
Margaret, her husband, Allen, and several other Quakers were sent to Springfield State Hospital in Sykesville, Maryland in 1944 to work in the tuberculosis ward and with what were then called mental patients. The work was difficult, but made more so by the hostility of coworkers who saw the conscientious objectors as cowards.
Agnes started in the tubercular ward but was transferred to work with the mentally ill and assigned one of the worst patients, Agnes. Agnes was violent and spent most of her time locked naked in a cell because she would rip her clothes off. Margaret would bathe her, dress her and care for her. Although she could not communicate with Agnes, who was in her own world, Margaret found working with Agnes the highlight of her day.
After a time, Margaret grew discouraged and questioned the power of love and her belief in "that of God" in every human when she met with relentless anger and hostility in the workplace, as well as manipulative behavior and cruelty in the wards. It was difficult for Margaret and the other COs to participate in subduing mental patients who resisted electric shock therapy. Some COs, hearing about the German concentration camps, joined the army, which also caused Margaret to question her moral stand as a CO.
As she puts it, "I knew I could not go on with this life I had chosen, a life based on the premise that human could learn to live with one another in peace, until I began to have a little faith in the good inherent in the human race, and in myself as well. I kept seeing only the worst in myself and others ... I needed to believe, I thought; and though I was not very adept at praying in those days, I prayed for a sign."
Yet Margaret found several occurences redemptive. First, the mental patients responded well to the lack of fear and friendly interest of the COs. Where it had once taken five men to run a ward, soon three or four--and sometimes two-- COs could be left in charge. Further, when Agnes had a lobotomy and afterwards was able to speak coherently for the first time in 22 years, she talked about Margaret as her only friend. Bacon writes the following:
"... wave after wave of reaction swept over me. The love I felt for Agnes because she had helped me overcome my fear. Perfect love had cast out fear instead of the reverse. I hadn't known before that, imperfect as I was, I could be the channel of such love."
I'm interested in stories about conscientious objectors during World War II, because unlike the Viet Nam conflict, that war had the almost full support of every American. As a result, their stories tend to be quite moving. More importantly, I believe that nonviolence is at the heart of what Jesus modeled and that violence is what he overcame. Of course, I'm a Quaker, so I would think that, and I know this blog is likely to be read by other Quakers. But I wonder what people think? What do you think of people who refused to fight in that war? Is the "inherent goodness in people" the right reason not to go to war?
Margaret, her husband, Allen, and several other Quakers were sent to Springfield State Hospital in Sykesville, Maryland in 1944 to work in the tuberculosis ward and with what were then called mental patients. The work was difficult, but made more so by the hostility of coworkers who saw the conscientious objectors as cowards.
Agnes started in the tubercular ward but was transferred to work with the mentally ill and assigned one of the worst patients, Agnes. Agnes was violent and spent most of her time locked naked in a cell because she would rip her clothes off. Margaret would bathe her, dress her and care for her. Although she could not communicate with Agnes, who was in her own world, Margaret found working with Agnes the highlight of her day.
After a time, Margaret grew discouraged and questioned the power of love and her belief in "that of God" in every human when she met with relentless anger and hostility in the workplace, as well as manipulative behavior and cruelty in the wards. It was difficult for Margaret and the other COs to participate in subduing mental patients who resisted electric shock therapy. Some COs, hearing about the German concentration camps, joined the army, which also caused Margaret to question her moral stand as a CO.
As she puts it, "I knew I could not go on with this life I had chosen, a life based on the premise that human could learn to live with one another in peace, until I began to have a little faith in the good inherent in the human race, and in myself as well. I kept seeing only the worst in myself and others ... I needed to believe, I thought; and though I was not very adept at praying in those days, I prayed for a sign."
Yet Margaret found several occurences redemptive. First, the mental patients responded well to the lack of fear and friendly interest of the COs. Where it had once taken five men to run a ward, soon three or four--and sometimes two-- COs could be left in charge. Further, when Agnes had a lobotomy and afterwards was able to speak coherently for the first time in 22 years, she talked about Margaret as her only friend. Bacon writes the following:
"... wave after wave of reaction swept over me. The love I felt for Agnes because she had helped me overcome my fear. Perfect love had cast out fear instead of the reverse. I hadn't known before that, imperfect as I was, I could be the channel of such love."
I'm interested in stories about conscientious objectors during World War II, because unlike the Viet Nam conflict, that war had the almost full support of every American. As a result, their stories tend to be quite moving. More importantly, I believe that nonviolence is at the heart of what Jesus modeled and that violence is what he overcame. Of course, I'm a Quaker, so I would think that, and I know this blog is likely to be read by other Quakers. But I wonder what people think? What do you think of people who refused to fight in that war? Is the "inherent goodness in people" the right reason not to go to war?
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Finding Vocation
"The vocation for you is one in which your deep gladness and the world's need meet--something that not only makes you happy but that the world needs to have done."
Frederick Buechner, from Bill Brent's Web site.
I seem to be blogging more frequently these days about job and vocation, perhaps because of the current collapse of the newspaper industry, where for some years I'd found a career, an outlet for my energies, a home, a way to earn a living and an opportunity to serve. Being at a crossroads now, with only a very slim amount of freelance writing, I am curious about how other people (re) find vocation. Have others been in the situation of finding a career they loved collapsing around them for reasons outside of their control? How do we find a new vessel for doing what we are called to? What do you think of Buechner's quote? How do we find that happy marriage of service and joy when our way of doing it no longer supports us economically?
Frederick Buechner, from Bill Brent's Web site.
I seem to be blogging more frequently these days about job and vocation, perhaps because of the current collapse of the newspaper industry, where for some years I'd found a career, an outlet for my energies, a home, a way to earn a living and an opportunity to serve. Being at a crossroads now, with only a very slim amount of freelance writing, I am curious about how other people (re) find vocation. Have others been in the situation of finding a career they loved collapsing around them for reasons outside of their control? How do we find a new vessel for doing what we are called to? What do you think of Buechner's quote? How do we find that happy marriage of service and joy when our way of doing it no longer supports us economically?
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