Food For Thought

Last week Mr. Ether and I attended the funeral of our friend's father. It was a quintessential Midwestern Lutheran service, complete with ham sandwiches, potato salad, and white cake in the basement afterwards. (No lime Jell-O though.)

The pastor delivered a sermon that left me scratching my head. In effect, it was an admonishment to the deceased for not attending church enough. He did acknowledge that there are many ways in which to worship without being in a church. But then he said something else that I thought was so interesting, and perhaps true. He said, and I paraphrase, that the people who question religion are the very ones that he would like to see in church. Because if they don't come, then you're simply left with the blindly obedient.

I suspect that there are a great many pastors who would prefer it to be that way -- to lead a flock of sheep rather than, say, cats. But I was impressed with this guy. He made me think.

Happy Solstice ...

... from a bunch of little kids (a.k.a. Fairport Convention, circa 1970. Don't you just want to pinch their youthful cheeks?)

"Now Be Thankful"

Book Review: Leaving Church

Spring Reading Challenge is coming to an end. I really love reading and talking about books, so I will continue to review books that I am reading here. I'd really like to know what you're reading (as long as it isn't by Jody Piccoult. I'm sorry ... I just cannot stomach her books!)

So this is my most recent offering: Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith by Barbara Brown Taylor. I think -- correct me if I'm wrong -- that I read about this book on Jan's blog. Taylor was an Episcopalian priest for 20 years, first in a large church in Atlanta, and then for a congregation in a small town in north Georgia. In this memoir she examines the spiritual journey that led her first to the church and the priesthood, and ultimately away from it. Her insights are, by turn, funny, wise, and poignant. This is a book I would like to own, so that I can dog ear and underline pertinent passages.

While I don't necessarily relate to the "churchy" parts, the spiritual seeking has been very much a part of my adult life, and I kind of like the journey! The Quakers talk about "finding that of God in everyone." That's actually a pretty lofty and intimidating goal, and I am apt to feel guilty if I, say, epress my extreme dislike for the likes of George Bush or Dick Cheney. But finding the sacred in everyday life, that is something that I aspire to, and this book is an inspiration.

Minding the Gap

Note: This post contains references to God and expressions of faith. I consider myself to be agnostic. While I am certain of the existence of something that resides in and beyond myself, that connects me with all of this world, because of my upbringing I am not comfortable referring to it as "God." Sometimes I refer to "spirit" or to the term used by a dear old Friend, Francis Hole: "Divine Companion." Sometimes I just sort of mumble something incoherently or borrow a god from Terry Pratchett.

I was not brought up a Friend, and in fact worship and prayer were never a part of my life experience until I began attending Quaker Meeting 16 years ago. I love Meeting for Worship, but I confess that sometimes I have a hard time centering down and calming my monkey mind. Therefore I will often bring a book of devotional readings with me to Meeting, which I know irritates some Friends no end, but there you have it. At least I don't knit! Or snore ...

Last Sunday I had one of my current favorite books with me, Catherine Whitmire's Practicing Peace: A Devotional Walk Through the Quaker Tradition. I find myself turning to this book quite often for guidance in navigating these troubled and disheartening times, when a world without war seems very far away. Whitmire talks about how, as Friends we are challenged to stand in the gap between the way things are and the way they could be. The writer/educator Parker Palmer puts it this way:

There is no easy solution. There never has been and there never will be. But we must learn to stand in this gap, faithfully holding the tension and negotiating between what is and what is possible. (p. 30)

Whitmire adds, "Through prayer and discernment we, too, can know in which gaps God would have us stand. Our efforts may feel unimportant, but nothing is too small to make a difference ... It is important that we climb God's holy hill and stand in the social, political, and spiritual gaps of our time, not only because God calls us, but because there is no one else to go." [my italics]

I find myself yearning for a leader, another Gandhi or King, who will make big waves and bring about another social and political revolution. I am discouraged when no one appears. The fact is, we have to be the ones to carry that torch. Each of us has the capacity to plant those seeds, to bring about change. We have to, because there is no one else to do it.

Thomas R. Kelly said,

No giant figure of historic size will stalk across the stage of history today, as a new Messiah. But in simple, humble, imperfect people like you and me wells up the spring of hope. We have this treasure of the seed in earthen vessels -- very earthen vessels. You and I know how imperfect we are. Yet those little demonstrations of love and goodwill ... deeds done in the midst of suffering ... stir hope that humanity as a whole will be aroused to yield to the press and surge of the Eternal Love within them ... (p. 31)

How am I minding the gap, and working for a peaceful and just world?

(The photo above was taken in London last month by my friend Vicki, who minds the gap by working to get military recruiters out of our local schools. Used by permission.)

Blog Against Theocracy, Easter 2008

You know, I'm having a hard time writing this post. I am an active member of The Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) which is, for all intents and purposes, a Christian denomination. Yet I was raised in the Unitarian Universalist tradition by atheist parents. So spiritually speaking, I'm a little confused about how to define my beliefs. Quakers put it kindly when they say I am a "seeker."

From time to time the Blogosphere seems to erupt into heated debate over religion. Frequently it gets framed as a debate between "believers" vs. "non-believers", and it is often quite painful. I was discussing all of this with my spousal unit this weekend. While he believes wholeheartedly in religious (or a-religious) tolerance, he also sees why atheists feel so threatened by expressions of belief. Even if religious fundamentalists -- those who wish to impose theocracy -- are a relatively small minority, they are feeling remarkably empowered in these times. And sometimes even well-meaning people operate under the assumption that we all "speak the same language" (religiously speaking.)

It seems that the religious beliefs of our presidential candidates are being put under the microscope as never before. I mean, we knew that John Kennedy was Roman Catholic, Richard Nixon was a Quaker (huh?), and Jimmy Carter was Southern Baptist. But that is where it ended. Perhaps the reason for that was the general assumption that everyone was some Christian denomination, so perhaps it is a good thing, in a way, that it is being discussed on a deeper level. But for some, it takes on the tone of the Spanish Inquisition.

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. And seriously now, nobody should want the Spanish Inquisition. The founding fathers, flawed humans that they were, were also absolutely clear on the subjects of religious tolerance and separation of church and state.

As I contemplated what I would write today, I thought I would turn to my favorite author, the brilliant British satirist Terry Pratchett, who actually has a lot to say about about religion. He is the creator of (among others) Om of Omnia, Blind Io, Offler the Crocodile God, and Annoya -- goddess of things that get stuck in drawers. His book Small Gods is a small masterpiece.

So I leave you with a few Pratchett quotes, and a link to one lengthy passage.

In Thud! the dwarf Bashfull Bashfullsson explains that the dwarf creator, Tak, “wrote the World and the Laws, and then He left us. He does not require that we think of Him, only that we think”.

From Small Gods: "The trouble with being a god is that you've got no one to pray to."

"Gods don't like people not doing much work. People who aren't busy all the time might start to think."

From Sourcery: "I meant," said Ipslore bitterly, "what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?"
Death thought about it.
"CATS," he said eventually. "CATS ARE NICE."

Go in peace.
Coexist.
Namaste.

Theocracy? No Thanks! pt 2

I missed the most recent "Blog Against Theocracy" swarm, but anyone who is concerned about this issue should go here and read John Nichols' excellent column, published in response to the "Christian" outcry over a Hindu prayer offered this week in the U.S. Senate chambers.

What do you want your money to support?

Madison (F)friend Margaret Krome has written the following essay. Food for thought.

Published on Thursday, July 12, 2007 by The Capital Times (Wisconsin)

Doing The Right Thing For Justice, Peace Costs

by Margaret Krome

Offer me a helping of potatoes and sugar snaps from a local farmer or a plate full of war and carnage, and I’ll take the vegetables, thanks.Invite me to sit on a cushion in a chair made locally from willow branches or let me settle softly into plush slave labor and environmental degradation, and I’ll choose the rustic chair and cushion.

None of my friends or family actively seeks to support war, impoverishment, or desecration of the earth. But what is indisputable is that most any product I purchase, unless I know its maker, has long supply chains in its manufacture that do just that. [my emphasis]

My point is not that farmers, even those in industrial production, support war or use practices that knowingly harm others or that furniture stores harm the environment or workers. They may or may not. But behind virtually every purchase, there are profound impacts, sometimes for individuals, but overwhelming for the broader society.

The American Association for the Advancement of Science says that of 20 major traded commodities, our nation consumes the greatest share of 11 of them: corn, coffee, copper, lead, zinc, tin, aluminum, rubber, oil seeds, oil and natural gas. Some of that consumption is obvious and wasteful, such as the 6 tons of rock mined to produce a pair of typical gold rings or the approximately 330 kilos of paper (around five trees) the average American uses each year. But much is hidden, because products are too complex to discern the impacts of our purchases.

Cars, for example. It’s not just the loss of life of miners in China and elsewhere or environmental havoc created to obtain metal for the car. Or the wars our nation fights to protect supplies of petroleum used to make plastics in the car. Or the labor abuses in developing countries used to assemble them. There’s no practical way to assess the environmental impact of one manufacturer over another.

We don’t understand the hidden world of power behind our purchase, and so we buy the model that looks best, drives most smoothly, and perhaps has good gas mileage.

From computers to clothing to musical CDs, the list of consumer products whose components have unknown environmental and social impact is virtually endless. Even some peace groups sell bumper stickers, mugs, key chains and computer mouse pads but give no information about the resources used in their manufacturing.

Where does this leave us — in guilt, passivity or self-reproach? Mostly we seem to ignore it and accept without question the marketing systems that obscure the impacts of what we buy.

I spent last week in a spiritual community with 1,500 Quakers at an annual gathering. I sang and ate with new and old friends, contemplating throughout the week the question of “Who is my neighbor?” For me, this has translated into a question of how to make consumer choices that support not only an environmentally sound but also a peace-based world.

My first decision must be forcing myself to decide whether I really need to purchase something. Can it be shared or done without? Second, given how well my junior high school home economics class trained me to seek the best dollar value for what I buy, I have to accept that not harming others I don’t know will cost more. Every time I buy a more expensive item whose provenance I know and support, I need to remind myself that I am buying healthier lives for others, a hope for environmental relief.

Current marketing doesn’t make this easy. Fair trade campaigns, organic food, and other certification programs are a first step in creating the peaceful world we want. And like “Build it and they will come,” I place my faith in the belief that if consumers communicate a desire to know, marketers of responsible goods will enter the marketplace to help us take more control over our impacts on neighbors across the world whom we will never know.

What do you carry with you?

That is a question asked this week on Thailand Chani's blog. My first thought was, "Easy. My knitting, so I will always have something for my hands to do, and sometimes a book." Of course, that's not what she meant. She meant in a larger, life (or lives) long sense.

In my Quakers and Money workshop last week, one of the assignments was to try to identify a personal testimony; that is, a core organizing principal upon which one bases their beliefs and actions. Friends are big on testimonies. The ones that are most frequently identified as Quaker testimonies are Peace, Integrity, Equality, and Simplicity (PIES, for those who need an easy-to-remember mnemonic.) Then there are Friends who expand on that: SPICE, which adds Community ... or even PICKLES, which further adds Kindness and Love. (Being a relatively newbie Quaker -- about 17 years -- I was rather surprised to learn from my workshop leader that the big 4 were not actually codified as such until the latter part of the 2oth century, although the ideas have been basic tenets of Quakerism for 350+ years. Feel free to tenderly correct me if I am wrong.)

I am fond of pies and spice, but apparently I like pickles even better, because what I identified as my testimony was Loving Kindness. Back to Chani's question: her point was, some believe we come into this world already carrying baggage, and we certainly accrue more as we wend out way through our lives. Some of it is good, some of it is wounding. What do we do with it? Do we bury it? Throw it away? Hide it in a closet? Drag it all around with us? Integrate it?

I'll use a knitting metaphor, since I do love to knit. I think what I have tried to do is knit all of these life experiences together into one great big -- let's call it a blanket -- of loving kindness. That's what I carry with me. I'm not perfect. I drop stitches, it wears thin sometimes or develops holes, I've dragged it through mud puddles, or forgotten that I had it ... but overall, that is how I try to approach the world. That is my testimony.

I have a few quotes that I carry in my head:

"My religion is simple. My religion is kindness." -- His Holiness, the Dalai Lama

"Love is the first motion." -- John Woolman

This one from a Friend who had been away from our Meeting, and upon returning said, "It's good to return to a place where love will always be on the cutting edge."

And finally, a little prayer that I found in a children's book long ago:

Make my life a little light within the world to glow.
A little flame to burn bright wherever I may go.

How Quakerly! part 3

Whew! What a whirlwind the last couple of days have been. I keep thinking "I want to blog about (fill in the blank) but then I'm carried away to yet another fun and fulfilling activity. Let's see: When we last saw our heroine ...

... she was going to an interest group about Vietnam, entitled "Stepping Out On Faith: Another Life Is Possible". Virginia Lockett is a physical therapist who has moved to Vietnam to do volunteer work in a rehabilitation facility. Predictably, Vietnam has a high number of people who have lost limbs stepping on land mines. A lesser known, equally grave (and wholly preventable) problem, is head and spinal cord injuries resulting from motorbike accidents. Virginia trains young physical therapists; she and her husband have also imported and designed adaptive equipment to help people be able to function with their disabilities more readily. She is also working to make helmet use, something which is virtually nonexistent now, widespread. She has founded an NGO called Steady Footsteps. (I'd link to it, but this computer will not allow it. You'll have to look it up yourself.) I love Vietnam, and I was inspired by her talk, her optimism, her humor. It's been enlightening to be in my money workshop with her too.

Last night there was a play/puppet show created and acted by my daughter's Junior Gathering workshop joined by many others. It was called The Neighbor (following the Gathering theme "And Who Is My Neighbor?") and based on the folktale The Woman Who Outshone the Sun. Musical accompaniement was provided by sacred harp singers, as well as a band made up of hammered dulcimer, fiddle, steel drum, concertina and various percussive instruments. It was so beautifully done (and I especially liked the giant black and white striped mosquito; now THAT's a mosquito I could take home with me!) I hope there will be a dvd of it available to purchase.

Today, I visited a traveling museum exhibit about yet one more shameful slice of U.S. history: the internment of German-American (as well as Japanese and Italians from South America) civilians in concentration camps scattered throughout the U.S. during WW2. Many of these people were forcibly removed from homes throughout Latin America and the U.S., and shipped to camps ostensibly because they were under suspician for being spies. Actually, under a plan conceived by George Marshall (whose name is on the Marshall Plan) these civilians would be used in trade for U.S. prisoners of war. Never mind the simple fact that they had left Germany (or Japan or Italy) 30 years earlier, or the fact that war was raging in their supposed "home" countries, or the fact that a number of them were actually German Jews and were delivered directly into Hitler's hands. Pretty diabolical, if you ask me.

On a close to home note, I was saddened to see that one of those camps was at Fort McCoy near Sparta, Wisconsin (the very same place that hundreds of Cuban "boat people" were interned in the 1980s. before being shipped back to Cuba or granted assylum in the U.S. -- yet another shameful stop along the way.)

It's a shocking story which has largely been kept under wraps. No effort has been made to make reparations for these people or their descendents, as was belatedly done for the Japanese-Americans. Dateline did a breathlessly outraged and sensational episode on it in 1996 (I think.) I couldn't help but wonder where Dateline has been for the last 6 years when we are being primed for the very same attrocities to be repeated (and in fact are being repeated at Guantanamo.) While I am glad that they "exposed" this story (for all the awareness it has raised) they stuck with something that is largely safe, as it happened so long ago. We can all let out a big sigh of relief and say, "Thank Heaven that something like that won't happen today!" Yeah, right. If you want to read more about it, look up the Traces Museum in Minneapolis.

Then to round out the day, world famous blogger Poodle Doc and I took our children and went on a mini-road trip, in search of the Franconia Sculpture Park. After many miles of driving and a frantic phone call to Mr. Ether at work ("WHERE did you say it was, again?") we found it, and it was interesting. I was a little disapointed that it wasn't the life work of a Norwegian bachelor farmer sculpting larger-than-life Bible characters out of concrete bejewelled with broken bottles and mirrors. No, it was sculptures made by a variety of REAL artists. Many had a political theme. I was especially struck by one called Literal Biblical Horrors, that unfortunately brought to mind the photographs taken at Abu Ghraib (but we don't torture, the Commander Guy says so.)

I hope I can post some photos of both the puppet show and the sculptures at a later date.

We got back too late for dinner in the cafeteria. But if God wanted us to eat good food, S/he wouldn' have made Dairy Queens, right?

What wonders will the next two days hold? Tomorrow we will be displaying the Minnesota and Wisconsin portions of the Eyes Wide Open exhibit. The whole exhibition has gotten too large to be able to be displayed in its entirety. There's a sad commentary on this sad and shameful war.

I want to believe that we are in the midst of a nonviolent revolution, as many theologians say we are. Yes, I still hope.

How Quakerly! part 2

Last night ... the Intergenerational Dance (sponsored by the high schoolers and Adult Young Friends). I got dragged to it by my younger daughter, dances of that ilk are not generally my cup of tea. But I really took great joy in watching the dancers, particularly the younger ones for whom that is a natural environment. Let me describe the finery I saw: everything from prom dresses to negligees over jeans, leather kilts, Barbie boxer shorts, and one incredibly delectable party dress that had been skillfully created from newspaper, shopping bags and duct tape. It was beautiful! And although I feel awkward doing free form dancing like that (I'm more of a waltz & polka person) I had a great time and stayed out too late.

This happened to me several times at the dance, and was a bit disconcerting: A person would come up to where I was standing and ask me to dance. I would decline, usually saying that I am enjoying myself just watching, and they would persist -- I suspect thinking that I was just shy. Then I would say, "I really don't like to dance," and they would STILL persist. One person said, "No one will be watching!" as if it was vanity that was keeping me a wallflower. Although I know that all of these people were well-intentioned, I wanted to say, "No means no! What part of 'no' don't you understand?"

An AHA moment: I have been attending Quaker Meeting for about 17 years. I was drawn to it in part because so many of the principles of Quakerism are in line with lessons I learned as a child in a very progressive household. And while I have embraced Meeting and made it my spiritual home, there are parts of it in which I have always felt "other" (if that makes sense.) Today I had a mini revelation that, although my mother in particular was fervently against war, her background (socialism and organized labor throughout the thirties and forties) had been in movements of armed resistance, which is a very different thing from choosing a path of nonviolence. I'll have to mull this over some more ...

Still having fun. This evening I will be going to a session with a woman (who is in my Money workshop) who now lives and works providing health care in Viet Nam. I'm excited.

How Quakerly! part 1

Wow, I don't even know where to begin ... everything is a bit overwhelming. I think I will just describe a few discrete experiences and impressions. There is no time to synthesize it into one profound essay, at least not right now. Maybe not ever!

Did I say it was overwhelming? I've been here since Saturday, and I think I'm starting to get the hang of things. I think. There are between one and two thousand people here. A mixture of people who have been to this gathering before and so-called "newbies" (identified by a blue dot on your name tag, so that everyone can be extra nice to you.) I feel like I've been walking around with an idiot grin on my face for 2 days, but it's really because I don't know what the heck I'm doing! My teenaged daughter (who has done this twice before and has the cocoon of the teen group) keeps calling me on my cell phone: "Are you having fun, Mom? Have you made any new friends? Did you like your workshop?" Her caretaking of me is very sweet.

OK, my workshop. You get to sign up for one workshop and you go to it every morning. Way back in March when I looked over the choices (over 50!) I was torn between going with something I knew I enjoyed ("Walking Toward Wholeness") and one that would challenge me ("Quakers and Money: Applying Your Ethics".) I chose walking, and after our first session yesterday I wasn't quite satisfied. I knew it would be OK, but I realized that the somewhat lackluster OK-ness was coloring my whole experience of Gathering. I labored over the decision to change workshops all day (I was afraid I'd hurt the workshop leader's feelings; never a good reason to stick with something) but in the end I changed to the money workshop. Perfect! The emotional challenge of this issue nourished my soul, and I think will continue to do so.

Food: College cafeteria food. They swipe your card and you shuffle into the line with your tray like so many sheep. Baa! I'll take one of that and one of that, mmm, cream pie, I never get to eat cream pie, and look, there's salisbury steak over there, why not? It took me a day to come to my senses about food. Too much smooth brown and white stuff augmented with mushy vegetables! So now it's a light breakfast and right to the salad bar, maybe a small serving of whatever meat is on the menu. I'm already feeling better. (The kids, predictably, are going to town with the self-serv ice cream machine. I think the teens were having a contest of some sort to see who could make the tallest cone. It was impressive.)

FGC Book Store: I'm keeping my buying under control (just in case Mr. Ether is reading this and has been worried.) It was a joy to go to a presentation with Catherine Whitmire yesterday; I have loved her book of meditations around Quaker Simplicity, and she has a new one about Peace. I bought them both (sharp intake of breath from Mr. Ether.)

Golf carts: The people driving them look like they are having altogether too much fun! (I liked seeing in the daily bulletin that listed when the various worship times were, that "Golf cart service starts at 7 a.m." I thought, "Meeting for Worship with attention to golf carts. Something for everyone. How Quakerly!" Tee hee.)

Afternoons and evenings are the hardest. If you know me personally, you might be surprised to find out that I actually feel very shy and awkward in social situations. I really want to cling to my friend Poodle Doc like a drowning person, but I realize that would be sort of stifling. So I'm doing my best, but sometimes I just retreat to a quiet bench or to my room to nap or play guitar. There seem to be opportunities to make music with other people, which I have yet to explore. Round singing, sacred harp singing, Broadway songs, singing from the ubiquitous Rise Up Singing songbook, hymn singing ... and then in the evening folk AND contra dancing (in two different locations.) I should say that I have a hard time with self esteem around my guitar playing -- it feels very fragile -- and ever since seeing the devilishly accurate "mockumentary"A Mighty Wind, I have this fear of channeling the woman with the autoharp. So, I tend not to seek out people to "jam" with. I think I'll check out round singing though.

My younger daughter is testing out her independence, making giant puppets, bonding with other kids and just generally having a good time. I hardly see my older daughter; the high schoolers move in a world of their own.

Men in kilts: 2 so far.

T-shirts with anti-war slogans: Everywhere (but what did you expect?)

Recumbant bicycles: A few

Oh well, things are looking up. I think the next time my daughter calls I will be able to give her an enthusiastic answer. YES! I am making friends and having fun. YES! I like my workshop. So it's all good.

More later in the week.

Gone Fishing ... in a manner of speaking

Blogging will be slim this week. I am off to mingle with thousands of Quakers for a week, at the Friends General Conference annual gathering. This year it's in Wisconsin, so how could I not go? I may try to post once or twice, but I don't know.

See you next week!