Fear and Shame and the political divide

This is a post of political observations that will deal in generalities. So, please, spare me the anecdotes of cases where it doesn't hold true. Not hard fast rules, only observations about trends.

Both sides of the political divide, liberals and conservatives, claim moral superiority. And they go about trying to make converts by claiming that their side, and their side alone, takes the moral high road. The tools in this endeavor are fear and shame.

Example #1: Immigration.

Conservatives employ fear in order to control perceptions. If we are afraid of foreigners, we will reject them and protect ourselves. We'll be safer if we are more fearful. Such as this, now famous meme:

(I like this line from the movie The Tale of Despereaux, "Oh, Despereaux, this world is full of wonderful things to be afraid of, if only you realize how scary they are.")

Liberals employ shame to make people "do the right thing." The talking points create straw man arguments to make people feel badly for being heartless savages.  Religious people are at the top of that list. If you were truly a decent person you'd be more open, you jerk.

Example #2: Abortion.

Liberals employ fear. If pro-life legislation is passed, if a pro-life person is elected, if a pro-life judge takes the bench women will be victimized, there will be back-alley abortions and bleeding in the streets. Women will lose their autonomy and we'll all be relegated to being barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen again. 

On the flip side, Conservatives employ shame. Emotionally and morally charged language. Instead of women being victims and disenfranchised and scared and vulnerable, they are "mothers of a dead baby" and murders.

And the labels the groups are given are often, at least partially, misnomers. Pro-choicers are not pro-all-choices. Just check to see which democrats voted to take away the freedom of parents to choose whether or not their children are vaccinated. There's a serious war brewing in California as parental rights and choices are taken away by big brother. You can choose to have an abortion, but if that child is born alive you don't have a choice whether or not she gets the highly controversial Gardasil vaccine.

Pro-lifers are often not pro-all life (There are exceptions, such as socially active Roman Catholics.). Just look up which Republicans still support the death penalty. (see the UCSSB's pro-life prayer) Or the NIMB attitude as it applies to taking in refugees. (NIMB = not in my backyard) Sometimes pro-lifers are pro-birth or pro-some-life. It's a painful truth that we need to 'fess up to.

And you can see examples of this everywhere if you just take a moment to look at your Facebook or Twitter feed. Just today I logged in to see several of my friends post the same FB post that stated if you didn't join the "Women's March" you probably have never been the victim of a sexual crime, are not an ethnic minority, an immigrant or lack health insurance. Because if you have experienced any of these things, you'd support the march. Well, guess what? I have been a victim of sexual crime, I am an ethnic minority, my husband is an immigrant and I have actually never had health insurance in my life. I did not support the March. But, that's what I mean about claiming moral superiority. It's a false narrative. All the decent people on one side of the line and all the degenerate on the other.

I have found this past year that everyone wants to think that they take the high road and are open to people that are different than they are. Everyone wants to think they are comfortable with diversity.  It's always the other side of the aisle that is full of intolerant bigots. Until they encounter someone truly different, someone who doesn't support their pet causes, who does not see things the same way at all. Then the struggle gets real. I am no exception.

I have seen so many people this year unfriend and block people on social media or lash out at their neighbors that it breaks my heart. The media, the culture, the 24 hour news cycle perpetuates this fear and shame so that we feel quite justified in saying, "I'm done with you" as we paint with broad brushes and repost unnuanced memes and opinions. We feel vindicated to make "power of the people" to mean power against certain people.

But, what if....

What if we stopped using fear and shame as our primary motivators and the cornerstones of our arguments? What if when we encountered someone who is truly different we didn't shut them out, but we extended our hand instead? What if we could say, "You know, I don't see things that way, but I respect that you do. Would you like to discuss this sometime?" Make cookies. It always helps the awkwardness. 

The truth is that if we try to banish fear and shame there will be a vacuum. We have to replace it with something. 

I would suggest love and humility.

It's not easy. For anyone. And it's certainly not easy for me. I claim no moral superiority in this. To look into someone's eyes who not only is different but may be, in fact, antagonistic towards you and your way of life or deeply held beliefs, and to say, "I see in you someone made in the image of God and I choose to treat you according to that truth." Pour tea.  It helps the humble pie to go down easier.

I am not suggesting that you necessarily change your beliefs. I can tell you for certainty that you will not take my Christian faith from me. I am not just a Christian in name. It's part of my very DNA, I assure you. I am head over heels in love with Jesus. I can't turn it off. I broke off the switch long ago. But, I will share a meal with you and listen to you, even if you are Buddhist, Muslim, Atheist, or just plain not sure. My faith tells me that you are made in God's image and likeness, whether or not you acknowledge Him.

Humility goes a long way. St. John Chrysostom said, "Humility is the root, mother, nurse foundation and bond of all virtue." The book of 1 Peter in the Bible commands us to love each other deeply. Because love covers a multitude of sins.

Does walking in love mean that we never stand up for controversial causes or speak tough things? Of course not. Love must be tough as well as tender. But true love should give us the courage to carefully negotiate and live in the tension of truth and love. It's messy. It's painful at times. It's tricky. It's also beautiful. Speak the truth...in love.

As people of good will, can we move the cultural conversation from Us vs. Them to We Are All In This Together? Can we love through the differences and listen and speak up and be brave and be vulnerable and be true?

Fear and shame are motivators, but make a terrible foundation. Love and humility are really the only way.

Kadesh, Shechem, Hebron, Bezer, Ramoth, Golan, Christ

Been watching the Facebook feed and news on TV and if you didn't know any better you'd think:

1. There is no other news in the whole world aside from the Zimmerman trial.
2. Everyone on Facebook now has a law degree.
3. Christians have a lot of rage they need to deal with.

Calls for justice (and/or revenge) abound and even those of good Quaker stock are talking about the death penalty.  It's all an-eye-for-an-eye everywhere.  And now, as I type this, there are riots, vandalism and brutality happening, as well as a some peaceful protests.

Here's the thing, y'all, the heart of the Gospel is not that every man must pay for his sin.  At the heart of the Gospel is this completely unfair notion of grace.  It was prophetically built into the law from the beginning.  Even with the murderer Cain.  He was marked and no man was to touch him.  

The LORD replied, "No, for I will give a sevenfold punishment to anyone who kills you." Then the LORD put a mark on Cain to warn anyone who might try to kill him. Genesis 4:15

If tit-for-tat were the nature of God, I think we could look to how God dealt with the first murderer as an indication of that.  But, rather, we see that God was full of grace even then.

When God gave Moses His law there were rules about what would happen if a man took another man's life by lying-in-wait and with intent to kill.  He would die, eventually.  It is the law of reaping and sowing and not necessarily the law of retaliation.  But, if two people got into it and someone lost their head, and someone died, the one who did the slaying had one recourse.  He could flee.  Flee to a city of refuge.

"Six of the towns you give the Levites will be cities of refuge, where a person who has accidentally killed someone can flee for safety."  Numbers 35:6

These cities, run by God's priests, were a prophetic picture of Christ and His Body.  God's people were not to merely cry out for retribution.  They were to provide a place of mercy.  

Let's face it.  We all need that place.  Jesus said that if you are angry with your brother without cause you are guilty of murder. (Matthew 5:22)  Today I've seen a lot of angry people.  Angry at the jury.  Angry at the one who pulled the gun.  Angry at those of a different race.  Angry at those of a different political party.  Angry at the police.  Angry, angry, angry.  And that pretty much puts us in Zimmerman's shoes and in equal need of God's mercy.

Yet, God has not called us to rant and threaten to move the Europe.  God has called us to be the ones who say to the guilty, "Run to us!  Find mercy!  Find shelter!  There is a place of refuge."

In the end, Jesus didn't come for the innocent.  Jesus came for the guilty.  If you feel that justice wasn't served, know this: Jesus came for the George Zimmermans of the world and not for the Trayvons.  That might rub you the wrong way.  That may offend your sense of justice.  Remember that Jesus is often offensive. 

"I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance..." Mark 2:17

He certainly is offensive, right up until that moment when you realize that you need Him to be your place of refuge.  When you come to the place where you think, "If He doesn't hide me, I will die."  And then Jesus' offensiveness becomes your best defense.

The Cities of Refuge in the Bible had specific names that spoke to specific traits of God:

Kadesh, meaning Righteousness

Shechem, meaning Shoulder

Hebron, meaning Fellowship

Bezer, meaning Fortress

Ramoth, meaning Exalted

Golan, meaning Joy

These are not just the nature of God.  These were cities, run by God's priests.  They speak to the six things, we, as God's people, have to offer the world, the guilty and to those in need of mercy.  If we don't have these six things to offer, what do we have?  As humans are sympathies are with the innocent.  As Christians, our reach extends to the guilty.

So, while you are chanting (or tweeting or Facebooking), "Justice for Trayvon" and "No Justice; No Peace!" and "If you're not for us, you're against us."  Perhaps think about the call to say: 

Righteousness for the guilty, of whom I am chief.

Zimmerman, do you need a shoulder? He cares for you.

No matter what you've done, we offer you fellowship.

Zimmermans of the world, do you need a safe place?

God will be exalted through every life that takes shelter in His house.

God can and will turn ashes into beauty and give you the oil of joy for your spirit of heaviness.

Christians, remember that the grace and forgiveness you give out is the grace and forgiveness you will receive.  Jesus, out of His great love, died for the guilty.  I don't know about you, but I think we should put down our stones and accept some of that love for ourselves and share a little with a world full of Zimmermans.

The Gift Of An Experience

I am really blessed.  And I know it.  My husband and I, as much as we irritate one another, really do "get" one another.  As much as we joke with each other about being incompatible, in so many ways we blissfully match.

For example, his love language is the giving of gifts.  And he's pretty good at it.  But, mine isn't.  Gifts that I appreciate most are not actually tangible things, but experiences.  I love surprises.  And I love experiences that are lovely and enriching and that I can think about for years to come.  A great memory is like an eternal gift to me.  I love gifts that I don't so much hold in my hands, but rather hold in my heart.

This past week my husband gave me the gift of a little adventure--an experience.  A childhood dream come true.  I think my soul will be relishing it for a long time.

A while back I happened to mention in passing that as a child I'd always wanted to walk across the Golden Gate bridge.  Somehow, even though I'd driven across it many times, I'd never walked across it.  As a child it just seemed so cool.  It's a silly childhood fantasy.

I never gave it another thought after that conversation.  I thought, "Oh well.  Someday." And then promptly put it out of my mind.  Fast forward to this past week.

I was up on the Central Coast with my kids who were taking the standardized state tests with our private school.  We stayed with Papa and Nana; Gana stayed home to work.  I was due to drive home on Friday morning.  On Thursday night, quite late, Gana inexplicably showed up at my parents' house!  I just sort of stared at him, in disbelief.  I think I said something beautiful like, "Why are you here????"

He said he was there to fulfill a dream for me.  We were headed to San Francisco!  What?!

I then continued to say lovely things like, "But, I didn't pack for San Francisco!"  No worries.  He had brought a couple of my cutest maternity dresses, my walking shoes, my heavy coat and even remembered some scarves to cover my hair in the wind!  He had made arrangements for my parents to watch the children, so we could have a romantic getaway before the baby arrives this summer!!  Everyone seemed to be in on the scheme, except me!  No one had let me in on the secret at all!

It gets better.

He rented a car--a red convertible!!!!  He planned for us to drive up Highway 1 with the top down!  He booked an incredible bed-and-breakfast at a historic site on the Sausalito side of the Golden Gate.  And we were going to walk across the Golden Gate!

So we left early on Friday morning.  Set off up the coast, taking in the ocean breezes.  We stopped for breakfast in Cayucos and then at one of favorite places--the New Camaldoli Hermitage in Big Sur. We listened to the monks chant and arrived at just the right time for part of Mass.  Mostly we took in the views and breathed it all in. (One day--when I don't have a nursing baby--I will go there on a silent retreat.)

Big window on the balcony of the chapel, overlooking the Pacific

Then we stopped in Monterey--where we had spent part of our honeymoon.  We walked on Fisherman's Warf and ate some fish-n-chips.

We got to the Golden Gate in the evening.  We checked into our room--which was just the most lovely place you can imagine.  And I laced up my walking shoes.  Dream come true in just moments!

Ta-da!!!  I'm here!!!

In the background you can see the historic Coast Guard site where we stayed.

Saw all these people running on the bridge and didn't want to stand out or anything.

Mr. Sandman....bringing me good dreams come true since 1999.

BUMP AHEAD!

Supposedly, according to some over-achieving website, the walk is supposed to take 30 minutes round trip. Well, it took this pregnant lady and her photo-happy escort about 1.5 hours.  So, by the time we were done I was HUNGRY!  So, we ordered food to our room from the lodge's restaurant.  This is the perfect way to end a perfect day:

Eating on the king sized bed in front of the fire.

Roasted Bone Marrow.  I would eat it every day if I could.

The fire, the wine and the marrow!

The next day we played tourist.  We drove down Lombard Street.  In our red Mustang convertible and looking very Californian, we are now in more than one Japanese tourist's scrapbook.  Felt like we were a little bit celebrity.

Then we walked and played on Fisherman's Warf and ended our day with an awesome (although very chilly) cruise and tour of Alcatraz.

Antique arcade games are fantastic.

Test your strength!  Gana rang the bell!

WWII Submarine

Daja the Riveter

Solitary Confinement.  Eek.

At the end of the tour there is an art exhibit about restorative justice, featuring the stories of six murderers who have been rehabilitated and paroled.  Then people respond to the exhibit on post-it notes.

It was a truly amazing two days.  Really a dream come true.  What blessed me more than anything was knowing that Gana had listened to the little girl inside the woman who still wanted to have this experience.  He not only heard it, he crafted the perfect experience.  He demonstrated his love so creatively, so uniquely and so perfectly for me that occasionally, still, I'll burst out laughing, unable to believe it.

On the way home I plugged in the ipod and played Donna Fargo's The Happiest Girl In The Whole U.S.A. 

(Thank you to my parents, too, who watch the kids and helped arrange a great surprise!)

The Truest Thing

Every morning I write a creative writing prompt in my children's journals.  This is not their grammar or writing lesson.  I just want them to put words on the page.  Today Israel's writing made me cry.

The prompt:

Someday you will know my secret.

He wrote:
It will make you happy and mad.  It will be terrible and great.  It will be sad and joyful.  My secret is...

I love you with all my heart, my child.

Relationship Status

Saraa said, "Me a big sister."  


I said, "Are you my big sister?"  


She said, "Me big sister to River."  


"Oh," said I, "Well, what are you to me?"


She replied, "Me love your heart."

Musings on Mother's Day

One thing I will never understand is leaving one's kids for some "Me Time" on Mother's Day.  You know, like going to the spa, salon, out to lunch with girlfriends, etc. without the kids.  Sort of like celebrating your wedding anniversary without your spouse.  Just sort of odd and oddly inappropriate.

I'm the kind of Mom who gives my kids cards on Mother's Day, just to say thanks for making me a mom and for making my job so fun.  I want to spend all day with them, laughing, playing, cuddling.

I just love being a mom.  Every night I still creep up to my kids' rooms to look in on them while they sleep.  They are so beautiful when they are sleeping.  I fix their blankets and plant a kiss on their cheeks.  And always I wonder when this will stop.  Will I be kissing stubble on my boys cheeks before I figure they don't need to be re-tucked in each night?  Maybe I'll stop when they start tucking me in.

I know I am blessed with my children.  I know, too, that I am blessed with my mother and grandmothers.

My mom, well, it's difficult to describe all she means to me.  We were talking the other day and neither of us can ever remember really fighting with one another.  Oh, sure I've gotten on her nerves and she on mine.  But, to fight with my mother?  I really cannot imagine it.

My mom breathes beauty into my life.  She has a way of adding touches here and there of loveliness wherever she goes.  A ribbon, a sprig of lavender, a flourish, a little heart next to her name on a card.  It's just her way.

She knows me.  She knows that I'm disorganized and flighty and passionate and opinionated.  And she loves and accepts me.

C.S. Lewis has been called "the most thoroughly converted man I ever met."  Well, my mom is the most thoroughly converted woman I've ever met.  She walks with Jesus.  And that's not a metaphor.  She really does walk with Him.  And she's had to walk some rough paths.  She has sown in tears so that I could reap in joy.

I mother my children out of the spring of motherly love she has given me.



My mother holding me at my dedication reception

 This season has been challenging for my mother and my grandmother.  My grandfather, who has lived in shades of gray for the past 50 years is now living completely in the dark.  He can scarcely see or hear.  To add insult to serious injury his mind is now virtually unreachable thanks to Parkinson's Disease.  For years my mother has longed for her father that is somewhere trapped inside.  She recently blogged how she wished she could "bring back my father’s mind and soul."  Now it looks like she won't be able to experience her father this side of heaven.  I know that silently breaks her heart.  Every mother is still a daughter.

My grandmother has modeled so much for me.  When my grandfather was diagnosed with his imbalance about 50 years ago, the hospital brought her divorce papers.  She never signed them.  "For better or for worse" was not just a nice sentiment.  She meant what she had said.  And she's lived it out.  Day-in and day-out.  If I could do anything I'd give her the last 50 years of her life back.  But, then again, the crown awaiting her in heaven and her eternal reward is so great that no one can take that from her.  Reality is that our time on earth is the shortest part of our lives.

If ever I start throwing myself a pity party I need only think of my grandmother and her love, patience, perseverance and basic Christ-likeness to throw out the kleenex and pull myself up by my bootstraps. 

In addition to loving her husband through daily servanthood, she loves her children and grandchildren so relentlessly.  She's that quiet presence always rooting for our success and cheering for every victory.  When we fail, she's disappointed, she prays, but she never gives up on us.



Grandpa and Grandma
Everyday Saints

 As I write this my grandfather is in the hospital.  A UTI has caused the dementia to radically increase overnight and my grandmother could no longer care for him at home, as she has for years.  The hospital is 2 hours from their home.  What are my mother and grandmother doing on Mother's Day?  They are visiting Grandpa.

It seems not enough to say "Happy Mother's Day" to my mother and grandmother.  In honor of Mother's Day, all I can say is "Thank you."

A lovely little lecture

It's Valentine's Day.  A day to eat heart-shaped eggs for breakfast and cupcakes for lunch. 

We are having a great day.  More relaxed than a regular school days, but way more creative.  I do love this day.  I'm wearing pink.  And pearls.

Just thought I'd pop in and suggest a couple old blog posts to inspire your romantic day!  Because I've noticed a little apathy about today from my sisters-in-Christ and on Facebook.  Here's my nicest, sweetest, dripping with honey and served with tea and scones scolding to all of you, women and men, who have nothing planned today.

The first blog post is This Feeling of Love In The Air.  A little reminder that today is about giving, not just receiving.  And hopefully it'll be inspiring you to go spread a little love around.

The second blog post is In Honor of Valentine's Day.  Here's a teaser: The prophet Hosea showed us that God doesn’t just care about His people (like I care about the neighbors, the homeless man on the corner, my mother, my friends, or my favorite show on television), but that God is actually aroused by His people.

Go read both posts.  And if you haven't gotten your romance on today, go dip some strawberries in some chocolate, make your husband's favorite meal, or read some sonnets at the top of your lungs.  Sometimes you have to stir it up a little.  (You knew that, didn't you?  You didn't expect every feeling and action to function in and of itself, did you?)  Romance sometimes is an act of the will.