We can do better, we will do better, and we must do better.

Sometimes, I am surprised by the perspective I take on certain issues.  When would I ever expect myself to be in the position of defending Sarah Palin?  Sometimes, the impossible happens.  In the biz, we might call that a miracle.  Personally, I consider it an appeal to reason.  Common sense seems to be missing in our world all too often.

I, like so many across the country and around, was appalled by the events in Tuscon this week.  The way I see it, every time a life is cut short by an act of violence or hate is an unspeakable tragedy.  Certainly this applies to our members of Congress.  It applies to innocent bystanders.  It applies to the high profile cases in suburbia and the invisible residents of the inner cities.  Unfortunately, not everyone is afforded the same press coverage.

In today's world, that's what it's all about.  Who can be the first with the story?  Who has the better opinion?  Who can win the day by saying not the right thing, but the most repercussive?  It's really just a well-funded pissing contest, seeing how can talk louder for longer without actually saying anything of any worth.  In the process, throwing in an insult of seven for good measure has become the norm.

I was dismayed by the shootings in Arizona, but further dismayed at the immediate conjecture that the political atmosphere was the fault.  I suppose it is human nature to assign blame for the things that go wrong in our lives, and the faster, the better.  Before all the facts were in, it was decided to blame an icon on Sarah Palin's website, as opposed to the actual mental illness of the shooter.  So many jumped on the bandwagon so quickly, citing her as the figurehead of an unnamed mass of maniacs, indicting her in the court of public opinion, before we knew who lived and who died.

And it continues.  My Facebook feed is filled with retorts from some of my friends, who might otherwise been seen as compassionate, piling on the vitriol with their own, lashing out at Sarah Palin's response to those who would condemn her with their own hate-inducing language and attitudes.  I'll grant her response was not the most graceful (to put it all too lightly), but it seemed so highly ironic that those who blamed in her type of "fear mongering" in the immediate aftermath of the shooting would be so quick to do the same to her.

If we think the political atmosphere is too toxic, if we feel that the current level of rhetoric is out of this world crazy, then how can we expect to fix it by continuing the cycle?  Are we not, as seminarians, obligated to find the middle ground?  Are we not here to make peace with those who disagree with us?  What are we willing to sacrifice in good faith, as we expect them to do the same?

How can I, in good conscience, claim to represent a righteous path if my words and actions are not righteous?  How can I expect those I want to lead to follow me if I do not lead by example?

Rev. Fred Phelps, of Westboro Baptist Church infamy, has consistently acted in a way I consider reprehensible pretty much every day for as long as I can remember.  Here, again, he made plans to picket the funeral of an innocent 9-year-old girl, attempting to assign blame of his own (against the gays of the world), and celebrating the actions of, in his eyes, a just God.  I don't think there is any way my position could be more opposite of his.  I think that, while he speaks as though divinely inspired, he cannot, in any way, represent a God so often thought of as pure love while spouting his ideas so deeply rooted in hate.  And yet...he is a member of our society, free to vocalize his views.  We don't have to agree with him at all.  But the moment we try to stifle his speech, how can we be sure ours isn't next?

So instead, there are so many that would call him names.  Hate begets hate, no question in that.  I don't think i have the capacity to hate, try as I might.  All I can offer is love; it's up to him to do the rest.  I don't ever think he will, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try.  For I may not reach him, but I may reach another, and if in doing say I change one heart from hate to love, then it is all worth it.

If we are the leaders of the spiritual future, if we are to be the examples for those that would follow in faith, let our message be of love, and always of love.  Let us remember that our actions speak louder than our words, and our words reveal what is truly in our hearts.  Let us go forth and forgive those that hate so that they may know love, and let us love those we have forgiven, so that we can forge a new future of peace.

Plane Rides and Presidents

I've been thinking a lot about plane rides these past few weeks.  I've taken friends to the airport, picked up others, joked about the fun new security procedures with others, and seen others take plane rides on television.   It's been plane-tastic.  Except for the part when I get to take a plane ride.

You know what I like about plane rides?  It's forced thinking time.  As a matter of fact, that's how it is whenever I get to be a passenger.  Before Christmas, I had the opportunity to take public transit back up to Santa Rosa to see friends, and I quite enjoyed the experience.  I think the key was the solitude.  I had books, magazines, and my iPhone with me, yet I chose to spend my time staring out the window at the passing hillsides and cloud cover.

I love driving.  I enjoy taking control of the car and guiding it...anywhere.  Any time, any weather, I'm there.  I also have a hard time trusting most people's driving skills, so I'd just as soon do it myself.  While I get great pleasure from driving, I also miss out.  After all, focusing on the road and the surrounding cars means not focusing on the scenery.

So when I had the chance to take in the scenery, I took it.  When I get on the plane, it's the same thing.  Sure, I have my music to listen to, but there's just something to sitting and staring out a window while the miles roll by.

So while my friends have made their sojourns this winter, I have remained at home for the most part.  But my reflection wasn't limited by my lack of travel (bus ride to Santa Rosa notwithstanding).  Indeed, I've seen now more than four seasons of The West Wing in the the past two weeks, and within the episodes I've found stories that resonated in my own life: arguments over what the Bible says on gay people, a strain with a father's Alzheimer's disease, and the President's struggles with Multiple Sclerosis.  And, of course, plane travel.

I'm thinking about the future as I reflect on the episodes I'm watching.  I know I'm onto something, but the idea is still a germ of a kernel in my head, waiting for the right moment to pop.  It'll happen, and I'm sure my classes for the coming intercession and semester will help with that.  I'm sure that I'll find my field placement for next year to expand and solidify, and a job beyond seminary in order to implement.  I can't tell you what any of it is yet, because I don't know.  But it's coming, and I'll be ready for it.

Our popular culture is what we make it to be.  We are it, but more importantly, it is us.  There's something there, and I'm going to find it.

Who Am I? Part I

One thing I've been learning about in seminary is social location.  Now, this is not a new idea to me.  I grew up learning about and knowing people from other cultures.  I enjoy seeking out new experiences from different cultures that I haven't experienced before in order to better understand where someone is coming from.  I am a student of history, so I know how to locate and incorporate the historical backgrounds of other cultures into my experiences and interactions with people from that culture.

On the other hand, I am aware of my own cultural-historical background, and it's generally pretty ugly.  White guys are not kind in most of the world's history; even educated and supposedly highly ethical and religious white guys can be bad folks.  We all know the laundry list.  American white guys have their own special place in the history of really terrible things done to other people, and I am a part of that group, not given a choice to reject that history.

In this process of recognition, it's hard to not feel guilty.  White men brought over slaves from Africa.  White men broke treaty after treaty with the indigenous people of the Americas.  White men established Jim Crow laws.  White men locked up Japanese citizens during World War II.  White men sponsored bad people in country revolutions across the globe, and so here we are today with many people around the world hating the people of our country without having met them.

Does this get in the way of acknowledging who I am, and where I come from?  In some ways, yes, and in others, no.  But even in basic identities, I'm confused.  For example, there is an option for your Facebook profile to list your hometown.  What is my hometown?  I was born in Omaha, NE.  But by the time I was a senior in high school, I had lived in Omaha for seven years, Lincoln, NE, for three years, San Anselmo, CA, for two years, and Novato, CA, for six years.  In Omaha, I lived in at least four different places, in Lincoln, one, in San Anselmo, two, and in Novato, three.  Meanwhile, I was visiting back and forth between my parents all year long, earlier between Omaha and Lincoln after my parents divorced, and later between California and Nebraska.  For college, I went to Crete, NE, for four years, visiting home in California every year (and moving in California one summer), before heading to live in Greeley, CO for three years after college.  Leaving Colorado led me to Santa Rosa, CA, for two and a half years, before a short move to Petaluma, CA, for almost a year, and then to my present location in Berkeley, CA for the last four months.

So which of those is my hometown?  I haven't a clue.  I've most closely identified with Marin County, CA, as my "hometown," but some days I feel Nebraskan and some days I feel Californian.  I haven't lived anywhere recently that I've felt I could really claim as my home.  I feel like a transient spirit, just moving through the phases of life.

Who am I, then?  In a world where geography can play an important role how we are perceived (just check out the electoral maps if you don't believe me...), how do I find a place to hold on to?  Where is my home for the holidays?

Gratitude for Thanksgiving

It's that time of year when we all may stop a moment and reflect on what we are thankful for throughout our lives and, perhaps more specifically, within the last year.  How coincidental then that we address the practice of gratitude in Spiritual Disciplines class this week?  Probably not very.

I try to be grateful to many things in my life, but sometimes I wonder if I am not intentional enough about it.  Is it simple enough to be grateful for the big things in my life?  I could list them with ease: my wife, my family, my friends, my health, my apartment, my car.  We can be grateful for these things because they are the easy things to point to, and sometimes consider the process finished.

Ah, but it cannot be so.  We are where we are based on every moment that his come before us, in our own history and in our past generations.  So, if we are grateful for where we are, and we are grateful for where we are going, we cannot extend that gratitude without considering all that has brought us here, for good or for ill.

That said, I am grateful for the down moments that make me appreciate the good ones.  I am grateful for uprooting myself so many times in my life, leaving so much behind but establishing myself anew again.   I'm grateful for all those failed attempts at relationships, learning from them to make this one count.  I am grateful for all those years the Giants didn't win, and all of those close calls, for how else could the joy of winning the World Series mean so much to millions of people, including me?  I am grateful for five and a half years of working at Walmart, some times much more trying than others, which led me to find what may be my true calling in life.

But I am also grateful for the good things: soccer Fridays, sunrise walks, realism in movies, late night chats, long roadtrips, piano driven rock and roll, Golden Gate Park, falling snow, and so much more.

And the Giants.  Of all the things that put a smile on my face in the morning, they're pretty near the top right now.

Thoughts on Bullying

In the spring of 2000, I was in high school, and probably a bit naive.  In the primary elections that year, we had a number of things to decide on, but I could not participate.  Alas, I turned 18 on March 26, and the election was held on March 7.  I was optimistic, however, concerning a certain measure on the ballot, Proposition 22.

The entirety of Prop 22:

SECTION 1. This act may be cited as the "California Defense of Marriage Act."

SECTION 2. Section 308.5 is added to the Family Code, to read:

308.5. Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.

I wondered how the people of California could add discrimination to the state constitution.  I didn't see it as possible.  California is a progressive state, and we don't like discrimination.

How wrong I was.  Prop 22 not only passed, but did so with 61% in favor.  I was crushed.  I took little solace in the fact that I lived in one of six California counties to oppose the passage.  I took little solace in the fact that I didn't have a chance to vote, so it wasn't my fault.  I took little solace in the fact that my mother planned a wedding despite the lack of legality to it.

I think this is the moment I first felt spurred to action, but I didn't know what to do.  We went over the election results in government class the next day.  When it came time to review Prop 22, I couldn't bite my tongue.  Holding back tears somewhat unsuccessfully, I mentioned to the class that the government and the people of California did not consider my family a family.  They would not consider my family a family.

Think about that for a second.  Try to imagine the people you know telling you that just because your parents live together doesn't mean they can claim taxes together.  Just because your parents live together doesn't mean that if one dies, the other inherits the shared possessions.  Just because your parents live together doesn't mean that they can visit each other in the hospital in times of critical illness.  What if you were in the hospital, be it for a minor infection or on your deathbed, and they told you that only one of your parents could be with your for comfort.  Or a final goodbye.

I couldn't take it.  I couldn't' understand it.  I wanted to slap someone.  Thankfully, I didn't.  Instead, I tried to find my voice while I went to college in Nebraska.  That November came another election, and Nebraska voted on Initiative 416:

Only marriage between a man and a woman shall be valid or recognized in Nebraska. The uniting of two persons of the same sex in a civil union, domestic partnership, or other similar same-sex relationship shall not be valid or recognized in Nebraska.

Imagine my lack of surprise when it passed with 70% of the vote.  I had friends that were let down, and I noted: if the most progressive state in the country wasn't going stop this, why would one of the most conservative?  But this is where I found my voice.  I wasn't going to let anyone tell me different from what i know as the truth: I have a loving family, and it is a valid as any other on this world.

Fast forward  a decade.  We still argue over the legality of same-sex marriage, but it's come a long way.  In the last few months, there has been a turn to focus on bullying in school of GLBT youth.  A noble cause, I think.  So many people say, "It gets better."  For many it does, but not for all.  And while we work to save the lives of GLBT youth with this campaign, what about those that are bullied for other reasons?

Why does bullying exist?  We let it exist by establishing norms and then ridiculing those outside the norms.  We codify it in our laws by decalring yes to some and no to others.  We don't allow gay people to marry or join the military now.  We are very selective in who we let into this country, even if those that want to come will do the jobs we don't want to do.  We used to encourage discrimination through Jim Crow laws, and limiting women's suffrage.  We clearly don't have a good record on this, but we are making progress, ever so slowly.

I wouldn't say I was bullied in the traditional sense of the word, but I know I felt the effects.  I had to pick who I would bring home from school.  I had to endure teasing.  I was egged.  I once had to go to a Boy Scout meeting and listen to a conservative pastor talk about moral rightness.  This from a troop in Marin County, California, run entirely by mothers.  One may wonder why I was never an Eagle Scout, but I don't.

In the end, I am supportive but distant of the "It Gets Better" campaign, because I feel that while it was encouraging, it didn't address the root of the problem.  Then, today, I found something that did.  Not only did it speak to what I believe, but it did if from across the political spectrum with the inclusion of Cindy McCain, wife of current Arizona Seanator and former Republican Presidential nominee John McCain.




I feel reinvigorated today.  The Washington Post has reported on a leaked document that seems to support the ending of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" in our military.  Gavin Newsom, the mayor that started such a brouhaha when he started marrying same-sex couples in 2004 in San Francisco, won an election for Lieutenant Governor of California.    Things are looking up, despite the results of this year's elections.

I challenge myself the same challenge I give to others:  Now is not the time to despair.  Now is not the time to give up.  Now is not the time to wait to figure out what to do next.  Now is the time to look around and give each other a hand.  Now is the time to stand up and rejoice.  Now is the time to move our feet in action.  Now is the time to continue that fight we feel is right.  Now is the time to go singing into the night, with voices high.  Now is the time to say enough is enough.  Now is the time to say we all belong in this world equally: gay, straight, left, right, nerd, jock, black, white, Christian, Muslim, Nebraskan, Californian: we are all human.  We all deserve the freedom to speak and live and love.  And while we may disagree, we can do so with the respect we have for our own brothers and sisters to end the spiral of hate that has held the grip of this country.  The challenge?  It starts with you.

What is prayer?

prayer

It doesn't have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just

pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try

to make them elaborate, this isn't

a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which

another voice may speak.

This week, we did another lectio divina in Spiritual Disciplines class using this Mary Oliver poem.  In reflection now, almost a week later, it still speaks to me in this crazy, hectic week of mine.

Monday: two classes (including NT midterm bomb first thing in the morning), skipping the third to watch the Giants win the World Series.
Tuesday: chapel, one class, trip to San Francisco for the Dia de los Muertos parade.
Wednesday: trip to San Francisco for the Giants victory parade, washing dishes.
Thursday: meeting to figure out how to pay for remaining balance due to seminary for this semester, meeting with Financial Aid office, meeting for recap of Tuesday's parade, birthday shopping, washing dishes.
Friday: baking two cakes, a batch of cookies, washing dishes, soccer, set-up for Kelse's surprise birthday party, surprise birthday party.

I know that isn't all that I did.  And I'm pretty sure I slept somewhere in there, but not nearly enough homework, and thus I have my OT midterm due on Monday and I haven't started it yet.

But in those tense moments, the ones where I felt most frazzled, I took a moment to stop and breathe.  Of course, I had to remind myself to do this, or sometimes someone else had to remind me to do this, but a moment of silence and solace was a good opportunity to center myself.  I know I couldn't have accomplished a lot without these moments.  I suppose you could all them prayer, unnamed and unthought.

Pure. Genius.

So, a little while back I had a campaign video from Meg Whitman up, a video that got me pretty riled up.  In contrast, here's a video from Jerry Brown, and I just can't stop laughing.



Less than a week to go.  Vote, and make your voice heard!