Where I Am

Posted: August 4, 2011 in Uncategorized

I know that the desert creeps into your body through secret passageways, so much so that the human creatures where I am are naturally quiet. Doors are closed gently and televisions sit unused. There is the gurgling sound of some low voices in conversation, in some other parts of the campo, but not often. And in the morning, around the fountain, or by the wall, or in the row of gnarly trees, the non-human creatures come out and do what they do. They chew and drink, listen and sun, and keep one wary eye out for predators. Evidently I am not considered one of those, not a threat, because I am mostly ignored. I am seen by them, I suppose,  like another piece of furniture, or a big rock or shrub. The rabbit creeps up to me and munches on clover under the chair. The birds are so close that I can see their gullets wiggle as they swallow their morning drink.

Am I invisible to them, like a ghost who sees but is not seen? Or do they know, do they see me as I sit, read, think, pray,  but choose to leave me alone? If I stayed like this for two, three years, would they build a nest on my left shoulder?

***

Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.

There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places
and desecrated places.

Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came

(Wendell Berry, Given)

The Middle Passages

Posted: August 3, 2011 in Uncategorized
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It was the teacher and writer, Lauren Winner, tonight. And she read portions of a forthcoming book. It’s all about the middle of things, and especially the middle passages of faith. Because her first book (Girl Meets God) shared her process of conversion from Judaism to Christianity, she was charmed on the speaking circuit among communities where the first testimony of conversion is always the most important. But now, almost fifteen years later, she knows that the beginning of faith is just that, the beginning, and everything that follows, and the way it changes, is the real thing. She came to a moment in her life and faith life of hitting the proverbial wall, the place where faith is thin and questioned and feared for.

Most of life is lived after beginnings, yet beginnings seem to captivate people of faith so much that they miss the passage and farewells and endings. There wasn’t one there tonight who didn’t know that wall personally, what it means and its terror. And yet a conspiracy of cheerfulness sometimes prevails, expectations that every pew in every church should be filled only with examples of never discouraged faith. How untrue that is.

Winner is right, that most of it happens in the middle as God glances off our hearts while we are on the way to a new understanding, new trust, new expectation for God. And once we start talking about those middle places faith will become more real than ever before.

It must be like Thomas Merton, I’m sure
when he outgrew the confines of community
and moved into the little hermitage
solitude his only room mate

And I in my makeshift shack
doing things spiritual
including
morning devotions

First some scripture
a few readings from the masters
silence and contemplation
and the fly

He buzzed incessantly
his flight pattern taking him
from this lamp shade to that
an interruption to any good retreat

It was the lemon pledge first
sprayed on his paper wings
so that he could only walk
like a drunk late at night

Unable to escape
he was squashed with the paper towel
and I, looking over my shoulder
hid the body in the trash

Satisfied, I resumed
the Mertonesque moment
wondering what he did
with uninvited visitors

(Tim Carson, August 2011)

I visited my brother in Joplin this week. I stopped by as I drove through on the way to a week of spiritual renewal in New Mexico. We sat in the Starbucks off I-44 on Rangeline and sipped iced coffee. Interesting developments in the tornado-ravaged town:

First, the task of debris removal is way ahead of schedule. The non-stop professional removal process segregates types of debris – electronics, metal, hazardous, trees – and removes it to particular dumps and landfills. A moratorium was placed on all new building in the destruction zone to keep people out of the way. That has now been lifted. All removal must be done by mid-August to continue to receive government funding for the project – 90% of the total. The city government informed residents that if it weren’t for Federal assistance the city of Joplin would have been bankrupted.

Side bar: The last residents of the Red Cross shelters left after several weeks of the tornado and many persons without permanent shelter were staying with relatives and friends. If people had homes with insurance then that covered the cost of getting them back into housing. If they were apartment dwellers and had no relatives and friends who could take them in, they were less fortunate. A number of those turned to …

Side bar: Shortly after the disaster a local citizen named Clyde put his large tracts of land to use for shelter. His properties adjoin Shoal Creek and so he created space for a temporary tent city. The locals call it Clyde Park (!). Anyone who so desired could set up their tent and camp until they found ways to secure other shelter. He brought in water, electricity and porta- potties.

Side bar: FEMAville is a trailer city and reaches for blocks and blocks. The limit for time spent in a FEMA trailer is 18 months. They were a God send for many people and they were delivered and set up in a timely and helpful way.

Side bar: The volunteer situation is still very iffy. My brother’s Methodist church was ready to house 40 volunteers from other Methodist churches out of the area but had to cancel the whole thing at the last moment because unforeseen obstacles prevented their coming. That is happening with some frequency, those kinds of interruptions. Still, the most common message from those on the ground (including our Disciples pastors in Joplin) is that there will be plenty of time to send teams to help in the future, but now probably isn’t the best.

Side bar: Who needs the help? If you had insurance that covered your affected home or affected business then you just paid to have professionals take care of the mess – removal or repair. Volunteers have mostly been working with those without insurance who had no way to move forward alone. That tends to be the demographic most served.

Side bar: Everything affects everything else. Employment has been interrupted because businesses and employers were so direly affected. Job loss then becomes another challenge for income which affects obtaining housing and so on and so on. The dominoes fall.

Last Side bar: My once Republican, libertarian-leaning brother told a story about a group of Chiropractors from another state who made a journey to Joplin to bring used equipment so their Joplin colleagues might use to furnish their new offices. About half was usable and the other had to be discarded because no one would put that beat up equipment into new office space. The Joplin crowd expressed their sincere thanks and appreciation for their out-of-state compassionate friends who had traveled so far to help. As the three Joplin men helped unload the truck talk from the out-of-staters turned derogatory toward FEMA, the Federal Government and other governmental agencies. The three Joplin guys froze in their tracks, looked at each other and simply said: “FEMA and the Federal, State, and local governments have been stellar – we couldn’t have made it without them and they were great.” That was not received well by those predisposed toward labeling anything beyond volunteer, private sector help as invalid.

The truth of the matter in Joplin is that a combination of resources – Federal, State, Municipal, networks of first responders and medical personal, utilities companies, insurance companies, private organizations and volunteers all combined efforts to make a great success story.

The time for either-or language is officially over. It’s a case of both-and. Always has been, really. Talk to my brother. He appreciates them all. If he could he would give a big hug to his insurance company, then to Federal Emergency Management, and then to the bunch of church guys that dropped by to help him sort through debris. It’s everybody, every level. It’s not ideological. It’s pragmatic.

Somebody please send a copy of that memo to our elected officials in the capital. They obviously haven’t gotten it. It’s going to take all of us – each layer of our society – reaching out when most appropriate to address whatever need presents itself with whatever resources are most appropriate  to do the job.

P.S. My brother’s new office will be opening in a couple of weeks. Champagne all around.

Abner Womack is professor of Agricultural Economics at FAPRI – Food and Agricultural Policy Research Institute, University of Missouri.

Many have inquired after the identity of the masked economist mentioned in the previous post.

Well, he’s your man!

Just this morning I listened to an economist who does pure research and answers to no political party. He provided a comprehensive, balanced, research-driven, historically based analysis of not only the present economy and most recent recession, but the whole waterfront of the last 100 years. The presentation included macro dynamics of debt, assets, unemployment, energy, concentration of wealth, regulation, market forces, trade and competing philosophies.

I felt like I could breathe again – sanity, balance, reason, real data and the absence of spin.

I’m embarrassed by the ideologically-driven leaders who are pulling the strings of our present political charade. As is often the case, a simple comparison with a man of substance exposed them for who they are and are up to.

Deliver us … from them.

Soon.

I spoke of drawing together the infinite and the tiny, the eternal and timely, and how a mechanical God, a prime mover detached from what was moved will not do. Neither will the dualism that separates creator from creation in such a way that he drops by ever so often, like company staying the night, even cleaning out the gutters for you, on their way to Phoenix. Only the God beyond everything and in everything can work, and does, a mystery so deep it’s everywhere, seen and unseen.

And then, as a string tied to another pen, she sent me the poem of  ee cummings. We know it, even if in part, and his oh so well placed parenthesis:

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

They say that politics is
the power of the possible
the art of compromise and even
a mighty pendulum
swinging back and forth
across some invisible point of balance

Spend less, take in more
Fund this, don’t fund that
Make the opposition sweat
Please the base and their checkbooks
Raise the curtain and smile big
for the ones who bought our ticket

But those familiar with the drama
know it more as a game of chess
with the opening move, and counter,
the sacrifice of the dispensable
for better position on the board
and driven dreams of checkmate

The goal of politics, today, is not
longing for the common good,
but vanquishing the steely eyed opponent
across that broad expanse of squares,
the last thing standing between a victory
seldom had and enjoyed by few

Tim Carson, July 2011

It is a normal, exciting, tiring, hot, inspiring, hopeful week at Music, Art and Drama camp. They are all middle school age, hormonally charged, exuberant, self-conscious and delighting in what can be created and created in a spiritual sense. In addition to working on a musical which they will present to their parents and friends at the end of camp they will also be sharing in “masters classes” mid-week. These classes will include opportunity to experiment with art, photography, the ukulele, sacred dance and more. Each day begins with Biblical reflections around the theme and small group time. The day ends with a vespers service.

This week, however, has a different complexion. We are not only male and female, from different places and churches, city and rural, new to camp and old timers. This year we are more racially diverse, and in a significant way. This is a blessing. It also presents the challenges that race always presents in our culture, including in our church culture.

The first day or so is typical for church camp; everyone is adjusting to new routine and surroundings. By the second or third day, however, the tensions around acceptance and fear began to rise to the surface. Cocooning among familiar and safe friends began to take shape. And by mid-day all of the counselors knew that we could not just proceed with business as usual. God had given us an opportunity and we couldn’t ignore it.

We gathered in the main hall seated in chairs in a large circle. Certain concerns about the way people were being treated or excluded came to the fore. And then we started the discussion: What powerful emotions live beneath aggression or anger? Why do we gather in cliques? It didn’t take long to get to those answers. They are such emotions as hurt and fear. Especially fear, the fear that we will not be understood, rejected, considered less than a person. And fear leads to protectiveness and suspicion. The survival instinct rises to the surface.

Another blessing: Some of our camp staff are internationals. One young woman is from Hong Kong. The other is from Columbia, South America. And they speak out, the perfect voices. We are all created in the image of God, said they. And we are all God’s children, regardless of race or nationality. Everyone nods. Jesus loves us all. Who could disagree?

After some time people are invited to share what they will. And one diminutive African American girl says something very quietly, something we couldn’t really hear. And her friends encourage her. And I say that in this place we can share anything, that we need her voice. And from a little voice in this little body comes gigantic words: There is a color difference. We don’t know if you will accept us. We feel treated differently.

Suddenly the elephant in the room is named. And we restate it for everyone to hear. It is then that the real conversation begins, the one we were earlier circling with generalities. Our old nemesis lives on. But for now we have him cornered. Now we can talk openly about race, about fears, about how we might do things differently. It is a scary conversation, but a very good one, too. Because our faithful conversation holds such respectful honesty we are fully alive, fully attentive.

At the end, we covenant to be one in diversity, not confusing uniformity with unity. The real test of unity is exactly whether it thrives in the midst of diversity. Promises are made to love one another as God loves us. Group hug.

But none of that – none of that – could have happened without the courageous and honest voice of one little girl, tiny in stature, who,  in a charmed moment, pried open the rusty door so that we could all walk through it with her.

Anyway

Posted: July 18, 2011 in Uncategorized
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This comes from Kent Keith, required reading for those who want to maintain their integrity in the real world:

Anyway

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win
some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

You see in the final analysis, it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

… Kent Keith