Beyond ideology

After several months at the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station and a swing for some hiking through Tazmania, our son Cully stopped to visit on his way home to Maine. Tazmania helped him re-orient to the sights and scents of Fall. An occasional re-orientation helps us move beyond ideology.

William Barr isn’t there yet. When Kaitlan Collins asked why he will vote for Donald Trump, Barr said, “I think the real threat to democracy is the progressive movement and the Biden administration.”

Justice Samuel Alito seems enamored with making sweeping ideological policy rather than focusing on the specific case before the court, opining that the immunity case can be “one for the ages.”

Our son Rob sent this YouTube link to a poignant 30-second political ad reflecting the impact of recent ideologically-driven state legislation regarding reproduction.

Dartmouth College’s approach to the conflict between Hamas and Israel was the “Last Minute” segment on last night’s Sixty Minutes. Bill Whitaker concluded the segment with, “American education might benefit from a few more Dartmouths.”

From “College campus chaos continues amid anti-war protests,” CBS Sixty Minutes, April 28, 2024

A quacky neighbor

Last June, a newcomer appeared in our neighbor’s lake. A visiting migrant? Homeless? An abandoned pet? She stayed and set up housekeeping in the lake. It quickly became her lake. She held sway over a dozen visiting geese. The natural food supply in and around the lake is supplemented by afternoon food our neighbor brings for the fish–and her.

Twice daily, Friar takes us on a mile walk past the lake. At first, our fowl friend paid no attention. Then, she began venturing toward us. I now carry a medicine bottle with duck food. She’s particularly happy to see us in the mornings. She swims or waddles toward us. When she’s really hungry, she runs toward us. So, now I’ve been trained by a dog and a duck.

One afternoon, when the ground was dry, I sat down for our brief visit. To my surprise, she immediately jumped on my knee, convincing me that we and our neighbor aren’t the first humans she’s trained. These walks help me deal with life as a human, particularly since gun violence is now a “normal” part of daily life–like attending church or a parade.

Our quacky neighbor is teaching me a new “normal.”

Discharging the “loyal soldier”

The theme for a recent church retreat was “Paradox: When Loss is Gain,” from Richard Rohr’s book, Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life. Rohr cited a Japanese ritual (described in the link below) that “discharges” returning warriors to live peacefully in their community.

Donald Trump’s refusal to concede the 2020 election has inflicted great damage upon our nation. The Japanese ritual helped me realize that his refusal inflicts great damage upon himself. He could have had a place of honor at Joe Biden’s inauguration, but he deprived himself that privilege.

“Discharging the loyal soldier” caused me to reflect on times when I’ve continued to fight a battle or hold a grudge after an issue was settled. For the well-being of our nation–and for his well-being–may he discover the blessing and closure of allowing himself to receive the gift of an honorable discharge.

A brief review of Rohr’s book by blogger Eric quotes Rohr’s account of the Japanese ritual of “discharging the loyal soldier,” in “Falling Upward,” an April 1, 2019 post at Eric ASP.

Now it’s our turn

The sub-title of Diane McWhorter’s Carry Me Home is Birmingham: The Climactic Battle of the Civil Rights Revolution. It was published in 2001, won the 2002 Pulitzer Prize in General Nonfiction, and was updated in 2013. She was born in 1952 and grew up in Birmingham. We’ve been listening to the excellent 29-hour audio version. This was gleaned from the Epilogue:

McWhorter sought to convey “the complex molecular structure of a city that contained both the best and the worst of America.” She said, “The civic DNA has been passed from the parents to the children, and now it is our turn, the grown daughters and sons of the epoch, to take its imprint, invisible at the time, and through example and action, make of it a living language of historical memory.”

She wrestles with the question, “What are we going to do?” She says, “That is the moral of the story. The corpses of that past gave meaning to the lives of people (like her) who started out on the other side of the story. … Robert Penn Warren described the merger of the personal with the public, the individual with history…. The network of mutuality happily remains inescapable.”

From the Pulitzer Prize description of the winning work

The Atlantic

The Atlantic monitors the existential threat of fascism in the United States and elsewhere. Yesterday, after conversations with fellow seniors who share these concerns, I was helped by David A. Graham’s article in the January 9th edition of The Atlantic Daily newsletter. A paragraph:

Donald Trump has always displayed authoritarian impulses, but the Trump who is running for president now is not the same as the Trump who ran in 2016. He is more ruthless, more dangerous, and more authoritarian than before. And today in a federal court in Washington, D.C., with Trump present, his attorneys offered perhaps the boldest assertion of power that any major American candidate has ever made.

A Trump attorney argued before the 3-judge panel that he should be immune from criminal prosecution for his role in attempting to invalidate Joe Biden’s 2020 election. A judge asked if “a president who ordered SEAL Team 6 to assassinate a political rival” could be criminally prosecuted. After trying to “hem and haw,” the attorney stated that such a president couldn’t be prosecuted unless he was first impeached, convicted, and removed by Congress. 

Judge Florence Pan pressed attorney John Sauer: “But if he weren’t, there would be no criminal prosecution, no criminal liability for that?” … Sauer had no choice but to agree, because acknowledging any exceptions would have blown a hole in his argument.

My question for 2024 is whether America will affirm or abandon the democratic principles and institutions that have sustained us–thus far.

From “A Thought Experiment About SEAL Team 6 Goes Terribly, Terribly Wrong,” by David A. Graham, The Atlantic, January 9, 2024

A love/hate “tussle with power”

No doubt millions of people have echoed the first part of a statement from Mohandas Gandhi’s 1929 autobiography: “Hate the sin and not the sinner.” But Gandhi’s full sentence is more nuanced: Hate the sin and not the sinner is a precept which, though easy enough to understand, is rarely practiced, and that is why the poison of hatred spreads in the world.

Gandhi’s thought, from Augustine of Hippo (354-430), arose from his work as an attorney for Dada Abdullah & Co, dealing with corrupt South African government officials: I must say that, though these officers were so bad, I had nothing against them personally. They were aware of this themselves, and when in their straits they approached me, I helped them too.

Gandhi’s approach (rooted in Augustine and Jesus), will be my “north star” for dealing with 2024 Republicans in general and their current leader in particular. Based on my faith tradition, I will oppose them tooth and nail for the sake of the Republic and the planet, but with nothing against them personally. With no ill will, I wish them them utter defeat, but no harm.

Gandhi addressed the difficult task of judging without being judgmental. Americans often use the phrase “hate the sin, love the sinner” to disapprove of one’s sexual identity or expression. But, 2024 provides an opportunity closer to the original context that challenged Gandhi: how to make practical, tough decisions in the nitty-gritty, rough-and-tumble world of politics and governance.

From Gandhi: An Autobiography, also available as a free 802-page pdf download from the Library of the University of Pennsylvania School of Arts and Sciences of the text published by Yale University Press: An Autobiography or The Story of My Experiments with Truth. The quote cited above is from Part IV, Chapter IX “A Tussle With Power,” page 436.

Be strong and loving and fearless

Augustine of Hippo (354-430) wrote, “O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!” Beauty (epitomized in the Christmas story) has survived war, famine, infidelity and complacency.

Christmas 2023 occurs amid war in Europe and the Middle East. The world carries on. Are we oblivious to suffering? Or, do we carry on in spite of our suffering, refusing to let darkness rule?

Yesterday, Stephanie Arnold read Jesus’ matrilineal heritage, accompanied by a drumbeat when Jesus’ female ancestors were named. Matthew 1:1-17 referenced some of the women not by name but as “the wife of….” The drum’s silence during those indirect references reminded us that some important participants are unnamed. This silent reminder gave new power to the ancient message.

Our closing hymn was Marty Haugen’s “Awake! Awake, and Greet the New Morn.” The hymn’s “be strong and loving and fearless” is often used at First Church Birmingham as a choral response during affirmations and benedictions. This Christmas–like all that have gone before and all that will come after–let us be strong and loving and fearless!

From “Ever Ancient, Ever New,” a Daily Meditation by Richard Rohr, Center for Action and Contemplation, December 31, 2018. The painting is from Christ and the Woman Taken in Adultery (detail), Nicolas Poussin, 1653, Louvre Museum, Paris, France. Rohr’s comment about the painting (and the story in John 8:1-11) was: The way Jesus tried to change people was by loving and healing them, accusing only their accusers. Why did we not notice that? His harshest words of judgment were reserved for those who perpetuated systems of inequality and oppression and who, through religion itself, thought they were sinless and untouchable. Jesus did not so much love people once they changed, but he loved people so that they could change.

Darkness and Light

My parents said my first spoken word was “lights,” pronounced without the “L,” prompted by my fascination with Christmas lights. I remember candle-shaped Christmas tree lights with rising bubbly liquid. Reinhold Niebuhr reminded us in 1944 that light is preferable to darkness.

A Jewish survivor of the Holocaust, Elie Wiesel, helped me understand Advent’s dance between darkness and light. To an audience in a completely dark auditorium, Wiesel began by turning on a lamp with a pull-chain, saying, “Until you experience darkness, you cannot appreciate light.”

Alone long ago on Christmas Eve, I read Wiesel’s book Night. Advent fully embraces life’s darkness. We sing Advent music in spite of the dark. Niebuhr and Wiesel call us to Light–to be children of Light amid every darkness we face, such as war in Ukraine and refugee camps in Gaza.

From The Children of Light and The Children of Darkness, by Reinhold Niebuhr, 1944

“Do you hear what I hear?”

It was written by Noël Regney and Gloria Shayne Baker in October, 1962. I was not yet 12, but I feel like I’ve heard it all my life. Yesterday, while driving to church we heard Bing Crosby sing “Do You Hear What I Hear?” For the first time I concentrated on the lyrics.

“Said the night-wind to the little lamb, Do you see what I see? … a star dancing in the night….” Hmmm, similar to the biblical story, but the conversation is between the wind and a lamb. I kept listening.

“Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy, Do you hear what I hear? … a song with a voice as big as the sea.” Hmmm, now the lamb talks to a shepherd boy. More biblical imagery. I listened further.

“Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king, Do you know what I know?” The song contrasts the king’s warm palace with a child who “shivers in the cold.”

My mind tried to connect the dots. Which king? The bad “king” Herod or one of three Magi? The shepherd boy says, “Let us bring him silver and gold.” By this time, I was thoroughly confused.

Last night, I read about the song’s origin during the Cuban missile crisis. President Kennedy’s live speech was very frightening. Now, after 60 years of humming along with Frank Sinatra and others, I understand it employs a loose amalgam of biblical imagery to pray for peace in our modern world:

“Said the king to the people ev’rywhere, Listen to what I say! Pray for peace, people ev’rywhere. … The child, the child, sleeping in the night… will bring us goodness and light!”

From “Do You Hear What I Hear?”, Christmas with the Tabernacle Choir, featuring Laura Osnes and the Orchestra at Temple Square, PBS and WGBH, 2020

Horseshoe Bend

Last week, some camping friends joined us for two nights at Wind Creek (Alabama) State Park, on Tallapoosa River’s Lake Martin. We made an excursion to nearby Horseshoe Bend National Military Park, a place I learned about in school but had never visited.

On March 27, 1814, over 800 warriors of the Muskogee (Creek) Nation died in what was the last battle of the Creek War that brought US troops into a conflict between Native American groups. The Park Superintendent is historian Barbara Tagger, a 40+ year veteran of the National Park Service.

The Tallapoosa River’s horseshoe-shaped bend was the site of this tragic battle that led to the removal of the Muskogee people to Oklahoma and opened up millions of acres of land for settlement by US citizens. I want to spend more time walking over those hallowed, thought-provoking, grounds.

From a 18:19 minute video, “2021 Virtual Commemoration of the Battle of Horseshoe Bend,” National Park Service, March 27, 2021