Fear of Tears

"I had to turn away. Otherwise, I was going to start crying."

These were the words of a recent WPQW participant who was in DC with her college for an alternative break week. We were taking time for reflection about what insights, experiences, or wisdom they had noticed from their time with us, so far. The activities included participating in Our Daily Bread (a fellowship community breakfast with people from all walks of life, including many who sleep on the streets and in shelters), garden winterization and soil prep for spring planting, and street outreach with people that are homeless.

Among the insights of other folks was the realization, garnered from their 1:1 time with people, that listening to people, simply engaging in conversation, being with people where they are, matters. In this was also the awareness of the fact that mental illness has high co-morbidity with the homeless population, but to really connect we have to have a relationship. Others had reflections that it all can seem overwhelming as we seek answers (I maintain that it is not answers that keep us moving, but the next good question), and that the real work for social justice has to continue in their daily lives, not just as an alternative vacation.

But it was the role of tears where things got real. One student spoke - somewhat apologetically - through her tears about how a homeless woman told her that she and her fellow-students reminded the woman of her own daughters. It brings it home - there are families, loved ones, and whole life stories that remain invisible. Then, there was the statement by the student about needing to turn away from all the stimulus. She said it was overwhelming. I suspect, and we talked about it, that what was overwhelming was not what was going on around her, but what was welling up inside of her, perhaps a mixture of anger, sadness, guilt, disgust, even love, and her all-too-common belief that we should not be emotional. And it is the fear of tears, the sadness, perhaps intellectualized as a sense of weakness, that we seem the most uncomfortable with, and it often leads us to want to flee.

And yet, we need to be with these emotions, fully present not just with our heads but with our hearts, embracing them, not fighting them, if we are truly to engage in the good work of trying to make the world a better place.  We can talk about statistics of poverty, mental illness, health indicators, etc., but as Emma Goldman said, "The demand for equal rights in every vocation of life is just and fair; but after all, the most vital right is to love and be loved." To be loving means being able to laugh and cry. When we turn away from our tears when they naturally occur, we turn away from our emotions, and we turn away from being present with others. But when we let it flow, we strengthen ourselves, become more present and more whole to carry on the good work.

"Faith in the Process is more important than the Outcome"?

Keith Barrett X with his wife, Veronica
and kids Prophetshabazz Muhammad,
Jesus, Goddess, and Chief, saying
"One God" for the camera.

As I sat in Meeting for Worship on a spectacular fall day, I listened to a few messages enamored with Quaker process. These messages included that decisions made without Quaker process were not as significant as those done through process and, from one message, faith in the process is more important than the outcomes. Sitting among a 100% white congregation on the day between the Million Man March and Columbus Day, two events that are stark reminders of enslavement, suppression and discrimination, I wondered about these messages. I sometimes think that Friends can be too enamored with the process, especially as it is so often practiced among "like-minded" people. I think that the gift of Quaker process is when it is practiced out in the world, among people of very different opinions, beliefs, cultures and priorities. This is when true peace happens. And this is also when faith in another Quaker sentiment is vital: going "as Way opens".

Keith with Prophetshabazz

It was with all this rattling around in my brain that I walked into William Penn House the next day with a sense that the weekend had been a bit chaotic. Some of the chaos was because a family from Montana was sent to us on Saturday by a local TV reporter with an understanding that a local church was going to cover their lodging fees. As I started to try and make the connections between the various parts of this story, I met a remarkable family. Keith Barrett X and his wife, Veronica Lynn Illig-Barrett X, had journeyed 60 hours from the Flathead Reservation in Montana to be a part of the Million Man March. Keith told me that he was unable to attend the first one 20 years ago because he was in prison, but pledged to make the next one. Despite the economics, he made it with a bit of faith in the goodness of people - going "As Way Opens". Keith shared with me his story - growing up in Beaver Falls, PA, Los Angeles and Phoenix, the son of a man in the music industry (who worked with the likes of Barry White). At 18, breaking out on his own, he moved to Washington State. He bounced around between WA and AZ until 11 years ago when he met his wife. Keith is part Blackfoot, and his wife is Flathead, so with this lineage, they made their way to Montana.

Barrett X's garden

As Keith and I talked, he spoke of his belief that good people and oppressors come in all shapes, sizes and colors, and his stay at William Penn House was an opportunity to show that to his kids. He shared that he is a member of the Nation of Islam, but believes in one God that loves all of us. He showed me pictures of the 1/2 acre community garden he put in this spring, and had his 5 year-old son tell me about the lettuce, cabbage, onions, corn and tomatoes they are growing. It was an energizing connection.

Will we actually get the fees to cover this family's lodging? We don't know yet. Is this a vital part of continuing our missional presence in the Nation's Capital? Absolutely! Do we have the means to cover this ourselves (although a special thanks does go to Sam Ford from ABC7 News for covering a portion of this)? Not yet. My deepest faith is that way will open for us to continue to do this. It was not Quaker process that brought all this together, but Quaker faith.

Skin in the Game

"'Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven' (Matt. 5:10)... With this beatitude Jesus thoroughly rejects the false timidity of those Christians who evade any kind of suffering for a just, good, and true cause because they supposedly could have a clear conscience only if they were to suffer for the explicit confession of faith in Christ.  Jesus cares for those who suffer for a just cause even if it is not exactly for the confession of his name."

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Ethics

Yesterday, I wrote about how change at the micro-level (meaning, starting with me/us) is a vital component to bringing about macro-level change.  Then I read the above reading from my daily Bonhoeffer.  For modern day purposes, I am not sure I agree with the notion of being persecuted.  Persecution connotes harassment and oppression.  Certainly these can be a part of the consequence of standing up for a just cause, such as with the lunch counter sit-ins of the 1960's where people risked their lives in the name of equality, and suffered great harm, while responding with remarkable non-violence.  To me, this is a far-cry from what we often see today with protests so highly orchestrated that there is no risk or sacrifice, or calls for boycott that ask for nothing of the consumer. An exception might be preachers in Indiana who perform same-gender marriage if the state constitutionally bans gay marriage, as these preachers would face possible imprisonment.  

For me, however, the call is not to seek to be persecuted, but to put skin in the game - to make sacrifices, take risks, to be the change.  This means more than championing an issue, but to build relationships across divides. This means being willing to be vulnerable, to be uncertain, to act with doubt.  This means making the sacrifice while practicing kindness.  

I fail at doing this miserably and daily.  It is the humility of this that keeps me from feeling that I have the right to tell others what to do.  Instead, I hope to walk the journey with people.  I certainly don't want to seek out persecution as a validation of my sacrifice, but I am willing to be made uncomfortable, and to try and do things differently.  If we want the world to be a kinder, more compassionate and caring society where people are not so ego-driven, we have to start with ourselves.  For me, this starts with the willingness to make sacrifices, to be uncomfortable, to practice kindness, to do with less, and every day to try a little bit more.  It certainly doesn't end there, and just doing this is not enough, but the change won't happen without it.  

Bonhoeffer, Community and Quakerism

"Community" is one of the oft-cited Quaker testimonies.  This morning, in my daily Bonhoeffer ritual,  the writing was about community.  While I often try to adapt some of the language of Bonhoeffer to a less Trinitarian Christian message, this one is a stretch, so I'm going to leave it as is, relying that "Christ" for me means an unabiding love for and deep faith in the goodness of all, and the call to live in grace.  So, here goes:

"Because Christ stands between me and another, I must not long for unmediated community with that person.  As only Christ was able to speak to me in such a way that I was helped, so others too can only be helped by Christ alone.  However, this means that I must release others from my attempts to control, coerce, and dominate them with my love.  In their freedom from me, other persons want to be loved for who they are, as those for whom Christ became a human being, died, and rose again as those for whom Christ won the forgiveness of sins and prepared eternal live.  Because Christ has long since acted decisively for other Christians, before I could begin to act, I must allow them the freedom to be Christ's.  They should encounter me only as the persons they already are in Christ.  This is the meaning of the claim that we can encounter others only through the mediation of Christ.  Self-centered love constructs its own image of other persons, about what they are and what they should become.  It takes the life of the other person into its own hands.  Spiritual love recognizes the true image of the other person as seen from the perspective of Jesus Christ.  It is the image Jesus Christ has formed and wants to form in all people."  - from Life Together, pg. 43-44

So much of this resonates for what has long attracted me to Quakerism - the belief that there is that of God/innate goodness in all people.  It also reminds me of the Benedictine "radical hospitality" and the Franciscan spirit to sow love where there is anger and to seek to understand rather than be understood, both of which are vital aspects to my own faith and practice - or at least to my faith, and hopefully a part of my practice.

To live with this faith, we must challenge ourselves to resist our impulses to coerce others to see the folly of their ways - political, religious, social - but to instead believe that when we invite others into our lives as they are, and vice-versa allow ourselves to be as we are, we are living our faith.  I have certainly been on the receiving end of this, especially when I have been welcomed in places I did not expect - such as when I lived in the more conservative Wheaton, IL, or when I go to places like the Southeast White House where I am frequently in the minority with regards to my faith (more universalist than Trinitarian), stance on social issues, and sexual orientation.  It is times like this that I really get what Bonhoeffer is talking about here.  I only hope that I can be that I can always be better at doing this for others.

Seeking Unity, Facilitating Harmony and Harmonizing

Friends often talk about how we seek unity on issues.  When there is not unity, what do we tend to do?  We talk about "seasoning", laying the issue aside for a while, continue to discern.  In many cases this is totally the thing to do, but what if the issues have broader implications - such as a minute or statement about how we think the world should be or some kind of action regarding issues beyond our congregation?  It's one thing to consider a minute of whether or not to perform a same-gender marriage or to take something under the care of the Meeting; while it may be unpleasant for many, it is about a group action in an enclosed group.  But when the issue at hand has to do the broader world around us, often people have strong feelings about either the issue or the action and want the whole body to follow-suit, the whole body might not do so for a number of reasons.  The desire for unity can be painful, as often a lack of unity is perceived as a lack of action, and people may feel compelled to support the called-for action because they feel intimidated, at times sensing that because they are not in unity they are somehow deficient in understanding the problem or they are simply tired and want to move on to something else.  For others, myself included, there is a discomfort that unity among ourselves can come across as exclusive - that somehow, because we have reached unity, this is how the world should be, and it doesn't matter what others - neighbors, friends, family, other congregations - think.

This past year I saw in the Quaker cyber-world the observation that Peace - perhaps the thing Quakers are most known for these days - is a dynamic relationship between justice and harmony.  Peace is what we strive for, and we all recognize that justice is necessary to achieving that peace.  It is often a drive for justice that is behind our calls to action or public statements.

What if, during those frequent times when we do not have unity, we try practicing harmony?  Consider the analogy of an orchestra conductor.  His/her role is to bring together the leading and talents of very different people, each with a leaning to very different kinds of instruments, and have them learn to listen to each other and play off each other while practicing their own particular piece.  They bring a peaceful experience to what could be an incredibly unpleasant experience.

Now, we Friends are not in a position to be actual conductors in most cases.  Humility should help keep the ego in check.  With the Prayer of St. Francis as a guide, we should recognize that we are simply instruments of Peace, but the whole Peace ensemble is much greater than us.  It is not ours to make everyone an instrument like us.   But we can be better practitioners of listening for harmony and learning to harmonize with others, appreciating the other instruments.  In those times when we don't have unity, perhaps we can learn to harmonize with each other.  It takes potential chaos and brings it to a more synchronized flow, but it doesn't try to make the violin a tuba.  As we learn to do this with each other, then perhaps we can be better practitioners of it in the even larger world where there are even less chances of unity.  It is a way to take our voices out and rather than feeling we need to shout down our neighbors, family and friends who do not agree with us, or feel we can't talk about things, we can learn to harmonize with them.  It's really about seeing the common humanity.  Isn't that really what we mean by "there is that of God in all" anyway?  

"Root Causes" vs. just roots

I was attending the BYM Peace and Social Concerns Networking Day on Saturday. It was a beautiful sunny day, and Sandy Spring Meeting is a beautiful surrounding. The gathering was a spirited and passionate group of Friends who vary greatly in where they focus their passions and social justice efforts. Among the issues: Israeli/Palestinian conflict (with an leaning toward Palestinian rights); mental health services; Muslim relations and understanding; peace scholarships; and environmental laws and policies. Among the various actions: prayer vigils, letters to Obama and elected officials, petitions, education and awareness events, and relationship building efforts (notably between Friends and Muslims).

Among the discussions, there were a few things about the process that struck me. First, there were two Monthly Meetings that seemed to reflect where my own passions are - that all things are interconnected. One of the Meetings started their report stating that they were "all over the board", as they see our current path (globally) is unsustainable, using the concept of "peak oil" as an example. Having this vision of the world - that not only is reducing fossil fuel consumption a good idea, but is a harsh reality that will happen whether we want it or not - influences the way one sees all the other issues of the world. We have an infrastructure that depends on fossil fuels for existence - our homes, our cars, our economy - and we have not made the paradigm shift needed to move away from this. The result is an increasingly volatile geo-political environment as pipelines for oil are extended deeper and farther into more hostile environments of all sorts. This view can do two things: bring a greater sense of clarity of what we need to change in our lives, and make many of the other social justice efforts seem like "window dressing", sort of like fiddling while Rome burns.

Second, there was one Meeting's committee that was not looking at topics, but process. It was considering the extent to which it can nurture individual leadings, serve as a source of education for its members, take on issues as a committee, and reach out to others on common causes. Basically, this committee seems to be considering how to do things more holistically, and how it can get the "most bang for its buck" in terms of energy. I personally think that this is one of the most important things that we can do as Friends. Minutes, epistles, and prayer vigils are fine things, but they are also actions that place the responsibility for problems and how to fix them on someone else, somehow conveniently elevating our own lives and lifestyle above reproach.

This leads me to another thing that has stuck with me from this meeting: a discussion of systemic and root causes. I think it is real easy for people to regress into a highly intellectual discussion about the "root causes" or "real problems" of the world that tend to accomplish very little other than perpetuate blame while fostering a sense of powerlessness. For those of us on the left, this tends to boil down to terms like "multi-nationals" (including banks) and "oligarchies". I am in no way denying that these are not fundamental to our challenges in working for a more just and egalitarian world, but, in pontificating about "them", we are in denial of how we who live in comfort and have thrived off the backs of the disenfranchised for centuries have been beneficiaries of these institutions. We can talk about root causes as if there is some linear cause/effect formula in play, but I prefer to just see that the roots of all we face are deep, connected and have been there a long time. Moving to community banks will not end homelessness - we are going to have to drastically change how we live. I don't mean "we" in a euphemistic "them" way, I mean "we" as in you and me. In fact, I would say that our ability to sit in comfort and talk about the big problems of the world, while our actions are whittled down to pointing out where others are flawed is a form of oligarchy in itself.

I juxtapose this with the main speaker we had that morning. Nathan Harrington is a young man who has started an intentional community in southeast DC while working in some of the more challenging school districts (currently in Prince George's County, MD). His story is full of courage and humility, a gentle balance of following a moral compass with meeting his own needs. He readily admits that finding a home in southeast DC was as much driven by affordability as motivated by conscience. But the entirety of the story is simple: he is bearing witness, and is a vehicle for consciousness. In doing so, I believe he sees more clearly the nuances of social trauma as it has played out over the centuries, and how painstakingly slow the work of reconciliation and sacrifice will be. It is his radical example that I hope to inspire in the real work of the Peace and Social Concerns committee as the real justice work of Friends.