Tag Archives: justice

Hurricane Katrina – A Convenient Scapegoat Arrives Just in Time to Rescue President Bush

Posted on by
Reply

I’m frustrated. And not just by the tragedy that past political indifference has exacerbated in New Orleans, or by the obvious fact that the U.S. is as ill-prepared for serious trouble at home as it is anywhere else in the world, or even by the fact that–well before Katrina–the U.S. economy was, if not on the verge of disaster from gross mismanagement, then at best, going to hell in a hand basket.

 

I’m frustrated because I thought all of President Bush’s chickens were finally coming home to roost.

 

All that money his Republican cronies made off of 9/11 fears, all the profligate sums paid into their friendly war machine’s gaping, indiscriminate maw—on technology and bodyguards and spying and weapons and occupations and war and all the other security approaches that shore up every engine of war profitability and make us all less secure, all that expensive marching off to all corners of the earth to push people around and tell them what to do—I thought all that bad business had finally caught up with them.

 

They’ve soaked the poor and given gobs to the rich. They’ve neglected the environment. They’ve failed to create good jobs. They’ve exacerbated the energy crisis. They’ve propped up favored industries and neglected others. They’ve endangered our economy by irritating people all over the world, who finally wearily resist buying American whenever they can, and take their vacations elsewhere.

 

For once, I thought, all their stupid policies were going to land squarely on their own doorstep.

 

Then along came Hurricane Katrina.

 

And now all of sudden, none of it is anybody’s fault. Our administration’s hands are tied—by Katrina.

 

Without a doubt, Katrina has added immeasurably to the many enormous problems that the U.S. already had before the storm turned her wrathful face upon our citizens.

 

But along with her destruction, Katrina has provided President Bush and his Republican pals the perfect blanket excuse for every failure that was about to be firmly laid to their door.

 

The budget deficit? Unimaginable government overspending? Blame it on Katrina.

 

Our ill-conceived war going badly? Sorry—must divert our efforts to Katrina

 

Dysfunctional international relationships? Too distracted by Katrina.

 

Health care collapsing? Gotta spend the money on Katrina.

 

Lack of energy reform and high heating oil and rising gas prices everywhere? Katrina.

 

Global environmental catastrophes and dangers at every hand? Katrina.

 

Crumbling national infrastructure? Katrina.

 

Underfunded education? Katrina.

 

Terrorism? WMDs and weapons proliferation? Katrina. (Say what?!)

 

Stock market tumbling, real estate buckling, economy faltering? Katrina.

 

For years, the Republican administration has neglected domestic problems and aggravated international ones. Now it’s too late to do anything about any of them.

 

Because, you know. Nature’s power and unpredictability and all that. Shrug shrug. Wink wink. Because…. You know.  

 

Katrina.

Fire and Rain and Answered Prayers

Posted on by
Reply

The morning after our house burned down three years ago, we sat in stunned silence, taking in the wreckage and work that lay ahead. In a weak attempt to cheer everyone up, I joked, “I’d better watch out what I pray for, because my prayers are powerful, and I’m afraid I’ve been praying for more excitement, and more time with my family….”

 

As our losses faded with time and our lives returned to our various versions of normal, my feeble “night-before-the-fire-prayer” attempt at humor has become family lore, growing to include (retroactively) pleas for time off work, for new stuff, stronger muscles, weight loss, unique topics of conversation, time in nature, novel experiences, interesting stories to tell my future grandchildren, new learning, and more patience…. And yes, I received all that.

 

The chaos and tragedy on the Gulf Coast can be in no way compared with our relatively tiny little personal loss (no one was hurt, we were insured and financially secure, our neighborhood, jobs and support systems were intact.) Hurricane Katrina’s suffering victims have endured the irremediable and irreparable tragic losses of loved ones—family members, friends, neighbors, co-workers. Many have been injured, and most have lost all they ever worked for, and must begin rebuilding again from nothing. Many lost their jobs and their livelihoods, all their social support, the towns they grew up in, everything they might once have fallen back on. Everything, in fact, except God.

 

What prayers, the night before such a devastating storm, could possibly have been answered by Hurricane Katrina?

 

I’ll give it a try.

 

Dear God,

 

Help me to appreciate my family, friends, and neighbors, my faith, my character, my education, my memories, and my two strong hands. Help me appreciate all that I have—my home, my possessions, my comforts, my pleasures.

 

Help me to see with new eyes the good in people, and to remember that the highest value is the value of human life everywhere. Help me to focus on helping, not hurting, and to learn to give as freely as I have received. Help me see clearly that mankind is one family, that we are all neighbors, that we are all, in fact, one, completely dependent upon one another.

 

Help me to drop my childish barriers toward differences in education, social classes, races, colors, religions, and nationalities, and to see only the face of God in everyone, especially those in need. Help me to support a proud, reliable, world-class American disaster-relief system available anywhere in the world, at a moment’s notice. Help my country avoid adding to the sum of human misery by turning forever away from war and every other form of political violence. Help me to work to build a wiser global energy future, and international and domestic harmony.

 

Help me become part of creating an exemplary, environmentally-inspired American Gulf Coast, and a safe, modern, compassionate New Orleans retaining all her unique greatness, spirit and traditions.

 

Help me remember that it’s always darkest before the dawn, to look for silver linings in dark clouds, and to accept that the Lord works in mysterious ways.

 

Help me to remember that you are my strength, my hope, my ever-present help in times of trouble. You maketh me to lie down in green pastures, you leadeth me beside the still waters, you restoreth my soul. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, you are with me.

 

Amen

My First Big Mistake – #6 Insights Series

Posted on by
Reply

I once decided that living well was mostly about being tougher than a very tough world. Life during my younger adulthood was harder than it is now, and a lot scarier, though I was very proud of the fact that I endured stoically, so to speak. I’ve always searched for answers, and having found some, I was know-it-all stuffy and rigid about them. You’d think an American citizen of good family and good health, comparatively well-off and with many advantages, might be more positive. But I thought, no, I’m just being honest and realistic, and (as we used to say in Texas) maybe just a little hard-assed.

 

Now I think that living well is about accepting and loving all that is. And though I still have my problems, resisting the way things are isn’t a biggie anymore.

 

I concluded, sometime during my college years, that I was fundamentally alone in the world. Despite “friends” and “family,” I made up my mind philosophically and spiritually speaking that I was basically on my own, up against a demanding and challenging and chaotic world, with no plausible higher power who could possibly have any interest in me.

 

I spent a lot of hours defending myself against what I now see were a lot of self-created negative results. I thought if I wasn’t close-to-perfect, then I wasn’t lovable or worthwhile at all. My primary comfort was in sniffing that, well, certainly no one else was, either.

 

As we used to say in Texas, I’ve learned different….

 

I’ve replaced my lonely old ideas about “self” with a new, more descriptive, more accurate and less narrowly-constrained identity. I’ll admit that the new “me” isn’t self-evident or obvious at first, and it’s definitely not culturally intuitive.

 

My new “self” isn’t a separate thing at all, not in any way an independent being, and certainly not a body, all wrapped up in its own short ugly brutish life and messy death….

 

Instead, I’m a beloved and eternal creature who is “one with” her loving creator, a unique and precious part of a greater higher “self” who comprises all his(?) lovable and very natural creations.

 

I’m pretty embarrassed about this new spiritual perspective, this new identity of mine, since I used to take great pride in being the most rational, argumentative, two-feet-on-the-ground, scientific type-o-gal. I can hardly talk about it, in fact, without ducking my head and shuffling my feet and mumbling under my breath, because I used to make fun of people like me. I thought they were weak and silly and irrational and dreamers-in-denial and well, just not honest with themselves or with God, who if he did exist, certainly wouldn’t dream up a counter-intuitive reality.

 

I still reject anything in spirituality which isn’t consistent with science, or which is in conflict with anything in nature, although I take an additional leap of faith to get where I am now. And, without a doubt, my new conclusions go against most familiar western cultural teachings about reality.

 

My big important intellectual (or non-intellectual?) leap was taking a single first small step into prayer/meditation, through which I gradually moved away from my cold, impersonal universe toward my new one in which I’m eternally safe and loved. My new universe is ultimately benevolent and peaceful, created by a God of love who is far more interested in my happiness than I am.

 

And all that bad stuff in life? All the things I and others have done and haven’t done? The chaos and cruelty in the world? In the eternal scheme of things, they’re now a more forgettable blip. They somehow matter less because, well, they’re not what's real and lasting, they disappear. In an eternal sense, they never even happened, sort of like all the rest of our bad dreams. When we all finally wake up, we’ll see that all we ever have is an eternal “right now,” and that all our fears about scary pasts and futures don’t really exist. Love is always the only thing left, the basic stuff of eternal reality.

 

So all that good stuff in our lives? All the peace and fun and kindness we gave and received, along with every other kind of love? All that good stuff goes right on forever, and keeps on multiplying….

 

For a weary lifetime, I sadly resisted any such peaceful possibilities, trading my desire to be happy in for a proud insistence on being “right.” My mind was made up early, and I was sticking to it. I looked only for evidence of what I already thought. In all that I saw and read and heard, I carefully picked out the parts that reinforced that life was fundamentally about the random meaninglessness of solitary bodies colliding and competing and dying.

 

Now, having exchanged realities, I’m blinking in the light of childlike, newly-opened eyes. All I see now (with occasional lapses and gaps) is love and all its permutations. Because love is all that I’m looking for now, all I want to see. I feel as if I’ve lifted up an old dark veil of meaninglessness that I once carelessly draped over everything and forgot about, and now for the first time I’m peeking at all the beauty beneath it.

 

So I made a mistake. So I spent a lot of time looking into dark cobwebby corners. So I was wrong. Hey, what the hell, I’ve got eternity now, and a patient, loving higher power who likes to help me get it right….

 

So I’m getting over it. I’m still a know-it-all, and I still want to be right. But I hope I’m a humbler one with a better sense of humor, less interested in being right and rationalizing and analyzing than in having fun and being happy and sharing my joy. All I’ve lost, in any practical sense, is my misery. At the very least, I've finally realized that sad and mad and tough can’t be any kind of smart conclusion. I’ll take happy over smart any day. I’m ready and willing to see all things differently, newly. I’ve moved on, and I like where I live now.

 

No harm done, and lots of good, since I changed my mind. If I feel momentarily lonely, I ask for help in remembering that I’m forever joined in an endless circle of giving and receiving with God and with every part of his beloved and lovable creation. And help always comes….

Bush Wake Up Call – A Short Suess-like Rhyme by Eppy

Posted on by
Reply

Bush Wake Up Call

 

 

You’ll have to shout louder;

            I don’t want to know.

Experts and eggheady wonks,

            Will you go?

 

I really can’t hear you.

            I’m waiting to sup.

I don’t care to listen.

            My mind is made up.

 

I long ago tuned out

            All facts that don’t fit.

Your smartypants theories

            Don’t matter a whit.

 

You’ll have to yell louder.

            Sorry, I’m noddin’.

I’m just not impressed.

Enter, bin Laden.

 

 

I wrote this a year ago and forgot about it…. Too bad it's still just as relevant today…..

 

 

 

 

What Would Jesus (or Pat Robertson) Do?

Posted on by
Reply

Now help me get this straight: It’s not legal to commit terrorist acts or to assassinate important people, but it's OK for someone important to say we should. It’s not legal to “murder” a single human being, but it's OK to launch a multi-billion dollar pre-emptive war that randomly kills and maims and ruins the lives of hundreds of thousands of human beings. It’s not legal to torture an enemy combatant, but it's OK to sniper-kill, firebomb, napalm, use land mines, and drop atomic weapons on patriots and innocent civilians….

 

Why are we confused about all of this?

 

Solving problems through violence will always feel morally abhorrent. America (the most powerful nation the world has ever known) must take the first creative steps toward changing international law, to make political violence (terrorism, assassinations, and yes, war), like social violence, illegal everywhere and always. The highest morality is respect and support for human life everywhere.

Quitcherbitchin, My Fellow Liberals, and Confirm Judge Roberts

Posted on by
Reply

This wild-eyed lefty blogger thinks we have the best Supreme Court nominee the American public could deserve or expect, considering the President we elected twice.

 

The best outcome anyone can hope for given any Supreme Court vacancy is a nominee who is educationally and experientially well-prepared to consider complex constitutional issues, and who has shown himself a person of excellent judgment and character. To all appearances, Judge Roberts will be a thoughtful constitutional judge.

 

All the current hand-wringing, posturing, and outrage by Democrats is, I suppose, somehow useful or necessary to future fights, but we can hardly be surprised that a conservative president has selected a conservative nominee. In an unbroken American political tradition, presidents have always nominated candidates who share their political leanings. I mean, duh.

 

I’m grateful that Mr. Bush took someone’s very good advice concerning his huge responsibility to select a nominee who might make thoughtful decisions over a long period, who might strongly influence or even lead the court, and who has the capacity to deeply impact the country, albeit for good or ill. I’m also grateful that Mr. Bush did not select some fringey right-wing extremist type (we don’t need any more of those on the court. Or any more justices of dubious credentials, experience, or reputation.)

 

A woman or an ethnic minority would have been nice, all things being equal, but I saw no conservative ethnic or female nominee with equivalent qualifications.

 

Supreme Court justices are always a crapshoot anyway. Indeed, if this guy goes south on us and completely forgets that the job of a judge is to weigh all sides of an argument fairly, I’ll sadly chew very tough crow. Indeed, Roberts may make a terrible justice; one can never know. All such predictions are mere risk-calculation and glorified guesswork. Left-leaning justices sometimes swing right, solid conservatives like O’Conner sometimes move center, and sometimes we get a justice who turns a little nutty—or nutty-er. Then it’s up to the other justices to work hard to shape, mold, rein in, or sit on the new guy or gal.

 

Roberts’ relative youth is a smart choice too. Of course we would rather the young ones with years of influence ahead were liberals. But it’s good that Roberts is generationally close to the nation’s youngish folks and thus may better relate to our rapidly changing culture and the myriad new issues being raised, and it’s good that he has a young mind which may not have stopped opening and growing.

 

Judge Roberts has apparently worked amazingly hard, has shown integrity, character, and sound judgment in every phase of his life so far (except in choosing to be a conservative, heh-heh) and he has demonstrated a capacity for independent thought. His brilliant wife (also an independent thinker deeply concerned with ethics and trained in law) can only be an asset to him. His young adopted children are also a factor in his favor, as they may humanize and keep him grounded.

 

Can Roberts relate to the common man? Does he have as-yet unrevealed weaknesses? (Every other human being has; why not he?) Will our privacy rights (which cover abortion) be threatened? Maybe. Hope not. But Roberts is the best candidate we could have expected from our system when it’s working as well as it can, given our current President.

 

The very complex, fine-line, difficult-to-weigh-and-decide, arguably this-or-that cases that come before the Supreme Court are best considered by a group of thinkers who represent the broad range of American constitutional thought, both left and right. Even I don’t want a Supreme Court packed with only liberal thinkers; I hardly have that much faith that I’m always right, and the court will never be served by hordes of knee-jerk partisan yes-men. Besides, some of my opinions are proudly rightish. 

 

Finally, I’m surprised and pleased that this nominee is apparently not an extremist, but possibly, in fact, almost main-streamish-y, sort of.

 

We could all wish for a more representative government, and we could wish for a less politically influenced and influential Supreme Court. But, given the government we have, in this particular instance, President Bush has done exactly what he’s supposed to do. For a change.

 

If we want to confirm an equally qualified, more left-leaning justice when Justice Rehnquist or whoever it is next steps down, we should support Judge Roberts’ nomination, thus earning the legislative reciprocity we’ll need when our own shiny-new president (some day soon–they're all getting old!) nominates a slew of similarly qualified liberal justices.

Against Nationalism: A New Revised Standard Version of American Allegiance

Posted on by
Reply

As I pull up the tiny plastic U.S. flag (tagged “Made in China”) which my well-intentioned neighbor leaves on our front lawn every July 4th, I ponder my deep affection for America–her ideals, traditions, and achievements. This land has been home, safety, and opportunity for me and mine. I acknowledge the good will and sacrifice of patriots of every nation. And I do want to be an accepting, supportive neighbor.

 

Which is why it's so very hard to explain why I can no longer countenance nationalism and patriotism in this shiny new century. We Americans could choose to salute the amazing human achievements which have arisen in our unique context of a vast, rich new land teeming with seemingly infinite natural resources. Instead, we too often associate all that is good and proud and fine and brave about our land and history and people with a divisive sort of me-first superiority thing that insists that the people on our side of an arbitrary border are us–the more-deserving good guys in the white hats, with all the best approaches to everything–while those sub-humans on the other side of the borderline, their side, are they, them, the other–fearsome, strange-looking beings, susceptible to all kinds of dangerous differences. It's just exactly this kind of automatic us/them competitive perspective that power-hungry demagogues tap so conveniently when they want to lead aggressions.

 

At least our growing understanding of ecology has finally helped us see that birds and insects and seeds and wind and rain and sun, in fact all of nature–sans humanity of course–have the common sense to be oblivious to imaginary, arbitrary borderlines. I guess that's some progress.

 

The more closely I look at nationalism, the more of our planet’s ills I blame on it. Wars. Terrorism. Unrepresentative politics. Social injustice and gross inequities. Coldness to the plights of non-“us” humans. Environmental disasters. Global epidemics. Unfair trade policies. Prejudice. Intolerance. I could go on. You name it, nationalism hurts it. Stirring emotional associations prettify the concept of nationalism, but ultimately fail to conceal the ugly truth that its most predictable fruits are separation, fear, and hatred, along with their natural corollaries, violence and suffering.

 

Perhaps not so incidental in this so-called Christian nation is the sad reality that there is not a single Christ-like or Christ-advocated thing about nationalism/patriotism. Equally tragic is the fact that nationalism doesn't accomplish anything which couldn't be achieved far less harmfully through unfettered, internet-linked local, regional, and global organizations supporting human endeavors of all kinds, whether social, political, economic, spiritual/religious, artistic…whatever. What positive thing could nationalism possibly accomplish which a consistent allegiance to and respect for human life on this earth could not do better?

 

Nationalism is an empty rhetorical device crammed full with irrational, emotional connotations, a burning nonsense cipher comprising all our breast-swellings, gratefully blown to life by small alienated power-hungry groups capitalizing on it to quickly inflame frightened masses into exploiting, occupying, attacking, retaliating, and avenging. However painfully and slowly, we need to wean ourselves from our knee-jerk heartfelt faith in nationalism, and begin to reconsider its value and its harm to all human beings.

 

I know, I know. Some people still believe in the devil, and think that human sinfulness necessitates all the “us”-es marching furiously off into all corners of the world carrying big sticks, breaking into their houses and changing their ways of life. If someone tried to bust into my home, push around my family, hurt my neighbors and interfere with our ways, I too would fight back. Meanwhile, I’m left to wonder whether nationalism and its spawn are the evils we're so afraid of, the devil incarnate himself.

 

The very concept of “nation” is, historically speaking, a relatively new one, going back only a few centuries. Before our present age of nationalism, local and regional thugs used fear, religion, ideals, and money (as recruiters do today) to attract followers. However, in those days, the accumulation of power was blessedly limited by the mortality of such temporary leaders. Today's nationalism requires citizens to blindly and permanently transfer their loyalties, indeed their lives, over to whichever country they happen to be born into, regardless of incomprehensible and rapid changes to the integrity, responsiveness, principles, and even the intelligibility of leaders, policies, and processes.

 

On this past 4th of July, I sat out under the trees with my family, eating hot dogs and spitting watermelon seeds along with other lucky Americans. With them, I took time to express gratitude for past and present leaders and workers, and for our battered but hopefully still resilient legal, economic, social, and political traditions. And then I added thanks for the uniquely American gift from God–the richest swath of untouched land in the history of mankind–and asked for guidance and humility in using what’s left of that unimaginable wealth more wisely and generously in service to mankind.

 

I prayed that nationalism will soon be just a memory of a sad, crazy passing political phase, albeit one which, during its brief reign on earth, provided a multitude of rationalizations for aggression, greed, and barbarism, always characteristically cloaked in beautiful passionate colors–among them, our own beloved red, white, and blue.

 

This morning, I try to find a dignified way to dispose of this small flag, symbol of my ardent childhood pride, devotion, and innocence, symbol of the anguish endured under patriotic predations everywhere. Of course I want to pay my respects for yesterday’s sacrifices and values. But I am moved also these days to honor the emerging, competing value which more and more Americans and their fellow earthlings are finally recognizing as far higher and purer than nationalism/patriotism. And that is respect and support for–allegiance to–human life everywhere.

 

What I've Learned About God in My Garden

Posted on by
Reply

In this season of spring, renewal and rebirth, I’ve been thinking: what have I learned about myself—and about God—from being a gardener?

 

From studying his work I’ve come to know the workman. I’ve come to better understand his garden, his creation, his creatures.

 

I’ve learned that each of God’s flowers, however imperfect, is perfect to him. God doesn’t make mistakes; he doesn’t make junk. Like every thing in my garden, and like every other creature in God’s garden, I’m perfect as is. I was meant to be as I am, as I have been, as I will be. Through me and through all his creations, God expressed his will, and declared it good. I am his will, and I am good.

 

I’ve learned that God loves diversity, or else why would he have created anew each flower and each snowflake? I’m different from every other creation, and my uniqueness is holy. When asked what he had learned about God from his studies, Darwin replied, “God seems to have had an inordinate fondness for beetles” (the very diverse species which Darwin particularly studied as a young man.)

 

I’ve learned that God doesn’t mow down dandelions because they’ve been bad. I’m not individually judged, targeted, punished, or rewarded. God’s world works the way it works exactly as he meant it to work. Along with every other creature, I’m subject to his inexorable laws of cause and effect, laws he quite deliberately set in motion. Sun shines and rain falls unpredictably and arbitrarily on all of us, and there’s an inexorable and unprejudiced justice in that. God’s not in the business of interfering with cause and effect.

 

I’ve learned that God is in the business of nurturing the processes of life, and of celebrating life’s cycles. Like all his creations in his garden, I was supposed to be born and I’m supposed to die, and—if I’m lucky—I’ll have some time in between to grow.

 

I’ve learned that I’m expected to turn toward the sun and try hard to grow bigger and stronger and smarter, to understand God’s laws and live fully within them. I’m also expected to accept disease, decay, and death as a natural part of life.

 

I’ve learned that I’m loved. God is bounteous, and provides richly for each creature whatever it needs to live the life he expects of it until its time to die. If I ask for something and God doesn’t give it to me, I don’t need it.

 

I’ve learned that I’m not just a unique flower; I’m also the air and the soil and the nutrients, the rain and the light and the whole ecological system supporting me. My identity is dual—I’m both an individual and an integral part of a whole. I’m a unique self and a larger self.

 

I’ve learned that, just as each creature does its part to support all of life, it is supported in return by all of life. I am meant to support all of life just as if it were my self—which it is. I do unto life as I would have it do unto me, I treat others as I would like to be treated. Life blesses me, and I bless life.

 

I’ve learned that although flowers die, life is eternal. When my unique body/identity/self dies, my connected self will spring forth renewed, born again. I’m part of life, part of God, one with God—and life/God/self go on forever.

 

I’ve learned from my garden to let go of my insistence upon fairness and equality in earthly outcomes, and to accept instead whatever God offers. Life abundant and life eternal are God’s precious and generous versions of love and justice. I tend his garden humbly, contributing my own invaluable and unique gifts in appreciation and peace.

 

Happy Easter, happy Purim, happy spring to all! Happy season-of-welcoming-new-life-birth-rebirth-cycles-processes-growth-nurturing-beauty-and-joy! And happy gardening….

A Bunch of Unreallistic Dreamers and Kooks–and Me

Posted on by
Reply

A ragtag bunch of unrealistic dreamers and kooks shared our home while passing through Frederick on their trek from Oak Ridge, Tennessee, headed toward the United Nations in New York City, where they will join a rally for nuclear non-proliferation in early May.

 

Or were they a serious, hard-working, disciplined, organized, committed, and spiritual group of unique individuals taking small peaceful steps toward greater sanity in a nutty world?

 

Arriving after a 20 mile walk from Lucketts, Virginia, the group took a scheduled rest day (once every seven days) in Frederick, welcomed by members of the Frederick Friends (Quakers) and several other local groups, before walking off toward a night hosted by two Thurmont churches.

 

What did I experience? A disparate but remarkably purposeful and caring group of believers and non-believers—Christians, Buddhists, activists of many stripes, the old and the young, walking for a day or a week or a month or for thousands of miles in many countries. They are black, white, Asian, native American, from the U.S., Japan, Australia, and many other countries.

 

As I juggle my own daily logistics, I wonder how the peacewalkers manage to arrange nightly lodging (on the floors of welcoming libraries and churches) how they eat breakfast, lunch, dinner, get medical care, manage personal possessions and sleeping bags…. But all seems smooth and organized. Every day they rise for interfaith prayer, and are walking by 7 a.m. They walk fast, carrying peace banners from many nations, smiling and waving and sharing their energy and positivity, even after walking fifteen miles. They are efficient and tidy, leaving their accommodations spotless.

 

I expected to host exhausted walkers who would collapse until noon in every corner of my home. No, they rose at dawn for prayer. One visitor, a Buddhist nun, magically produced from a small suitcase, a portable office. She spent the morning using her brief “rest” to email and call far-flung colleagues, and to plan a future walk converging in South Dakota. Willing hands produced a light breakfast and a feast for lunch. The young people wanted to explore Frederick’s downtown, while the rest shopped Goodwill, mailed pressed flowers and letters home, and then planned their evening presentations for curious townsfolk–about why they joined the group, why they walk, why they’ve stayed.

 

After everyone had left, I thought about what their work meant to me. I was most struck by how reversed I now felt about who and what is crazy.

 

Although I always have respected the peacewalkers’ cause—nuclear non-proliferation—I admit that I invited them despite a feeling that this was a crazy bunch of people choosing a crazy life and a crazy goal.

 

Now I’m thinking about cutting out sugar and caffeine and alcohol, as many of them do, for more energy–and maybe I’ll start fasting, too. I’m considering rising a little earlier to meditate and pray, and I’m asking myself what example my way of life offers to my children, and to others. I’m thinking again about moving forward on some impossible dreams of my own, thinking about taking the next step and then the next, as the peacewalkers courageously do each day, keeping the faith in humanity and possibility.

 

I’m thinking that maybe the life I see on TV, the commercial life, the fast life of the contemporary west, my life, is perhaps not the best context from which to decide who is crazy or not, nor from which to determine what is a balanced, healthy, useful life. I’m thinking that maybe I’ll try to shake myself free of contemporary culture just long enough to reconsider the possibility that nuclear tragedy isn’t necessarily inevitable, nor that working for change in our government policies isn’t necessarily a waste of time, and that joy and meaning and energy may come more readily from a purposeful, disciplined, giving, hardworking, kind, and open life.

 

I’m thinking I’ll keep an eye on the internet for the next time any peacewalkers come anywhere near my town again. I’ll download their schedule and join them in solidarity and respect, for a few days, or maybe I’ll plan a vacation around them. Maybe others will do the same, and maybe someday, as they hope, huge throngs will crowd around them in appreciation and support as they stride purposefully, idealistically, determinedly through the towns of the world. Yes, it’s true, they’re dreamers. But they’re not the only ones.

What If…?

Posted on by
Reply

What if it’s not important to be right?

What if, instead of deciding who to love, we just love everybody?

What if no one can explain God, but it’s fun to try anyway?

What if the best way to help others is to love them just the way they are now?

What if the world is the way it is because God made it this way on purpose?

What if trying to change people just doesn’t work?

What if talking problems over with God always helps?

What if god doesn’t care whether you capitalize her name or not?

What if you’re perfect (ly human) just the way you are right now, and so is everyone else?

What if there’s no past and no future—only a long line of nows?

What if they gave wars and nobody came?

What if we treated everyone the way we’d like to be treated?

What if everything is possible with God’s help?

What if the differences between people don’t matter?

What if we’re each completely lovable in our own way?

What if everyone helps and no one hurts?

What if religion is about opening hearts and minds? 

What if thoughts and ideas are the most powerful things in the world?

What if we live our own lives and let everyone else live theirs?

What if no one has unfriendly thoughts about anyone (including themselves)?

What if things change only when we change?

What if the world is as we are?

What if what God wants for us and what we want most are the same things?

What if people explain God different ways, while God stays the same?

What if we don’t need to worry about mistakes?

What if life is supposed to be the way it is?

What if we already have everything we need?

What if people who were upset only got smiles and help?

What if the things that separate people aren’t important?

What if there’s nothing to be afraid of?

What if the best way to help the world is to love it the way it is right now?

What if people who suffer injustice never added to it?

What if everyone knows what’s true, but no two explain it the same way?

What if giving up guilt frees us to give and love and be happy again?

What if we decide to see only good?

What if we go on forever?

What if God is love?

What if there are more questions than answers?

What if the questions and the answers change as we change?

What if human minds are smaller than God’s?

What if we’re not meant or expected to understand everything?

What if living in faith means choosing, even though we can’t be sure?

What if it’s OK to talk about all of this?