I note this week Coral Ridge Ministries, Family Research Council, Focus on the Family, and former Nixon operative, Chuck Colson, are lobbying hard against pending hate crimes legislation. I also note stalwart support for the bill by the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church.
I've written before on the challenge of engaging conservatives in debate without their resort to the yahoo beyond rational argument. Albeit rarely, the challenge is well met. Pat Buchanan's just written an incisive mournful piece on modern Iraqi Christian martyrs. In, From the Holy Mountain, William Dalrymple wrote, a decade ago, on the same subject, in a book I heartily recommend. Safe space for Christians in the Middle East is, indeed, rapidly disappearng (though Dalrymple patterned his book on a travelogue written by John Moschos, a 6th century mobile monk, who wrote of the same danger).
The Anglican Archbishop of Uganda, Henry Luke Orombi, also just published a thoughtful piece for First Things called What is Anglicanism? (We'll dissect that one at a later date.) He, too, writes of martyrs; how the Ugandan Church is built upon three pillars: revival; the historic episcopate; and the stories of martyrs, dating from Latimer and Ridley in the 16h century, to 1977, when the then AB of Uganda was murdered by Idi Amin.
The hate crimes legislation on the table is called The Matthew Shepherd Local Law Enforcement Hate Crime Prevention Act of 2007. It was nine years ago that Matthew was tied to a fence in Laramie, Wyoming, beaten and left to die. In the shelter I managed in Virginia, two teenagers lured a resident named Kevin into the woods by a promise of beer and beat him to death. Their lawyer justified the murder by employing the widely used gay defense; that the crime was mitigated if the victim came on to the murderers.
As I read Buchanan's and Orombi's articles, I didn't discount in any way the witness, sacrifice and glory to God of the martyrs they described; my problem, with Orombi, specifically, is that he takes no notice or responsibility, for martyrs like Matthew or Kevin; victims of a culture fostered and perpetuated by leaders with authority; a culture that discounts the humanity of those it destroys to such a degree as to even allow for the outrageous audacity of a legal tactic like the gay defense.
In a thoughtful editorial a few weeks ago, by Rob Dreher, he wrote, "why ordinary people become conservative: because to be a conservative is to believe in personal responsibility, in accountability, in consequences for actions," and, "it also meant you stood for certain virtues...[like] old fashioned honor."
Did the two women and a man who recently shouted "this is an abomination," and were arrested for disrupting Congress, as a Hindu minister offered the Senate's opening prayer, act with honor? Did those who threatened the Texas mom, who'd challenged the recitation of sectarian prayers at high school football games, with drive-by shootings, act responsibly? Will there ever be an earthly accountability for the former Episcopalian priest, now a Ugandan bishop, who preached in a Sunday service I attended, "as I would not have an axe murderer in my church, I would not have a homosexual."
Noted conservative Cal Thomas wrote a balanced book a few years ago, Blinded by Might, which raised deep spiritual issues about the appropriate role of Christians within the political realm. This is nothing new: Anabaptists during the Reformation barricaded entire cities to withdraw from the world. Hermetical Desert Fathers lived in caves. Could they remain uncorrupted in this way?
If Dr. King could lead a faith-based civil rights movement from the Left, why isn't it dually appropriate to lead crusades from the Right? (I struggle with this.) Thomas' decision at that time was to personally withdraw from active participation in Moral Majority-style politicking in order, he said, to educate the general public on the themes of classical theology.
I've walked a similar path. I once thought the penultimate Christian purpose could be realized by public service at a shelter. Now I'm finding the experiences gained there were a stage toward informing the foundation of the Adult Education classes I'm teaching at church. That seems, at least, now, to be God's greater purpose.
In a recent Thomas article my sister sent from Florida, it appears that Thomas hasn't quite escaped the yahoo. He's ridiculed Hillary Clinton in a New York Times article for a "liberal faith that is more concerned with poll-tested relevancy, as [in relation to] the environment, what kind of SUV Jesus would drive; larger government programs and other do-good pursuits, than the Gospel." It doesn't seem from this, he's followed his own advice; this language, disappointingly, isn't any more classy, or classically theological, than what he's bestowed upon the populace in the past.
I'd been thinking along the lines of the religious/political divide, anyway, after hearing that Ruth Bell Graham died. Billy said "she was the greatest Christian I ever knew." In his large and famous public position, and in the small, but still public position I held, as shelter manager, folks tended to bestow praise and prizes. It seems, though, that those who quietly nurse a sick spouse or neighbor, those who visit the home-bound elderly, or folks like my late father-in-law, who assisted widows with their finances, are those who are truly laboring in the vineyard, with responsbility and honor, accountable and known, only to God.
Yet, despite that instinctive feeling, great matters still cry out for justice. In regards to the hate crimes legislation, I hold not even a tiny scintilla of doubt towards the righteousness of such a bill supported with the full power of the Episcopalian Church of which I'm honored to be a member.
It's been said when the struggle within our Church is over, what will remain, despite where you stood, was legacy of tactics employed. It's ironic that those who advocate for the justice of inclusion are the most ilequipped by nature to use the very tactics that the world most identifies with success. Perhaps it's our greatest weakness; it also ensures an honorable legacy.
P.S. The Spotsyltuckian, and family, are taking a vacation. Look for the next post no later than Friday, August 17th.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Sentiment or Sentimentality
I note this week a blurb from the June 14th edition of News of the Weird: a 17-year old; a new plumber, first day on the job; using a blow torch, burned a mansion down in England. Not a good start.
I was an acolyte, for a day. All the pre-Communion rituals were taking place on the altar; I stood there, ready to assist, towel on arm. The rector asked, "do you have any idea what you're supposed to be doing?" The reply was negative. I was finished.
At one time, we held Taize services in the old church. For a man who sits on the couch at home, remote in hand, never landing for too long in one spot, it was torture. In preservation of sanity, I took to counting chants; when the total reached 39, still climbing, I thought my head would explode. I was saved (no pun intended) from silent madness, when the young acolyte on the altar, reaching to snuff a candle, caught the sleeve of his vestment on fire. The woman in the pew in front of mine yelled "Fire!" and leapt over the bench into the aisle. The acolyte, stood, unharmed, transfixed by the flame, as it slowly flickered out. I was awake, restored, and happy. Thus ended any monastical vocation I might have harbored.
I read of an Eastern Orthodox service that lasted for three hours. As described, the focus was on a God who might only be sensed through the most powerful telescope of the mind; the specks of humanity who made the effort were to gain access through the repeated recitation of their worthlessness in His presence. If there's uplift to be gained through the process, I imagine it's of a same degree as a fast; a sort of empty cleaner personage.
To each her own. It doesn't do it for me. I'm reminded of Kerouac in his year of fire watch in the tower above a forest. He'd chant, meditate and fast, for days, and then head to town to get drunk.
I am, above all, a soppy sentimentalist. I shed copious tears every December at Scrooge's transformation (the '51 classic Alistair Sims version). I hold hands with the Mrs. when Linus says "lights, please, I can tell you what Christmas is all about." Jesus is accessible; He comes through the Holy Spirit. I sense His presence, not only by abiding through the sacraments and sentiments of the Church, but within the sentimentality of the culture of church. I'm told by the theologians, ancient and modern, that sentimentality has no place in any serious contemplation of the salvation of humanity. I find I can't approach God well, if in full presence of mind, there's no heart.
I imagine the Holy Spirit as akin to an old Southern blue-tick hound; sniffing out the places where a degree of compassion is present, so extraordnary, it attracts His presence. Perhaps it's where there's empty and full. Let me explain: I worked for years at a camp for children who lost a parent. The directors were expertly skilled in drawing out the experience of grief, so that the kids didn't carry it as unopened baggage for the rest of their lives.
At the close of camp, we'd gather in a circle around a fire, tossing in scraps of paper upon which we wrote cherised memories of those who died. As the smoke rose, we said our goodbyes. It became habit to lock eyes with the Director, in an unspoken communion, and silently pray, as Elton John's 'Circle of Life,' played softly in the background. I also prayed, one year, for God to empty my presence and fill it with His overpowering love, here, where all those serving had offered all they had to give. I felt lifted, rising off the ground, floating in recognition of how good the world can be at those brief moments.
Sickeningly sentimental, eh? Sorry....
As always, I ponder without ceasing on our church struggle. Some have said, when it's over, the lasting legacy will be knowledge of the tactics employed by those determined to 'win.' I attended a meeting recently of the four churches in our Diocese who are temporarily worshipping elsewhere, having been displaced by those who call themselves Anglicans, pending a decision on property by the court. The purpose was mutual support and fellowship; it's gratifying to share the generosity that's been poured out upon us. A plan was made to hold a retreat, over a weekend, at the much beloved local mountain retreat, so that we could get to know each other better, and gain strength for the journey, as they say.
No sooner were the plans announced, then they were attacked as a cynical component of a dastardly masterplan by 'shadow' churches to inflict terrible evils upon God knows what. Although Connie prefers I not visit the sites she knows dangerously raise my blood pressure, I yet strive to read it all so as to gain perspective I might not otherwise would have known (see last week's post on yahoo). I could not resist posting a rejoinder; it actually resulted in a meaningful exchange between myself and another poster.
My posts were not retributive; I conveyed, as I always strive to do, what it is we represent, positively, in a way that inherently holds the statements to logic. While the post exchanges occured, the site writer, grew quiet. Is there any chance that she was affected so that she might write less antagonistically in the future, especially, when, at the same time she's tossing out epithets, she claims a desire for an amiable relationship.
Today I'm fasting in preparation for a medical procedure tomorrow. I still don't like it. Maybe I can use it in some spiritual sense? I doubt it.
I was an acolyte, for a day. All the pre-Communion rituals were taking place on the altar; I stood there, ready to assist, towel on arm. The rector asked, "do you have any idea what you're supposed to be doing?" The reply was negative. I was finished.
At one time, we held Taize services in the old church. For a man who sits on the couch at home, remote in hand, never landing for too long in one spot, it was torture. In preservation of sanity, I took to counting chants; when the total reached 39, still climbing, I thought my head would explode. I was saved (no pun intended) from silent madness, when the young acolyte on the altar, reaching to snuff a candle, caught the sleeve of his vestment on fire. The woman in the pew in front of mine yelled "Fire!" and leapt over the bench into the aisle. The acolyte, stood, unharmed, transfixed by the flame, as it slowly flickered out. I was awake, restored, and happy. Thus ended any monastical vocation I might have harbored.
I read of an Eastern Orthodox service that lasted for three hours. As described, the focus was on a God who might only be sensed through the most powerful telescope of the mind; the specks of humanity who made the effort were to gain access through the repeated recitation of their worthlessness in His presence. If there's uplift to be gained through the process, I imagine it's of a same degree as a fast; a sort of empty cleaner personage.
To each her own. It doesn't do it for me. I'm reminded of Kerouac in his year of fire watch in the tower above a forest. He'd chant, meditate and fast, for days, and then head to town to get drunk.
I am, above all, a soppy sentimentalist. I shed copious tears every December at Scrooge's transformation (the '51 classic Alistair Sims version). I hold hands with the Mrs. when Linus says "lights, please, I can tell you what Christmas is all about." Jesus is accessible; He comes through the Holy Spirit. I sense His presence, not only by abiding through the sacraments and sentiments of the Church, but within the sentimentality of the culture of church. I'm told by the theologians, ancient and modern, that sentimentality has no place in any serious contemplation of the salvation of humanity. I find I can't approach God well, if in full presence of mind, there's no heart.
I imagine the Holy Spirit as akin to an old Southern blue-tick hound; sniffing out the places where a degree of compassion is present, so extraordnary, it attracts His presence. Perhaps it's where there's empty and full. Let me explain: I worked for years at a camp for children who lost a parent. The directors were expertly skilled in drawing out the experience of grief, so that the kids didn't carry it as unopened baggage for the rest of their lives.
At the close of camp, we'd gather in a circle around a fire, tossing in scraps of paper upon which we wrote cherised memories of those who died. As the smoke rose, we said our goodbyes. It became habit to lock eyes with the Director, in an unspoken communion, and silently pray, as Elton John's 'Circle of Life,' played softly in the background. I also prayed, one year, for God to empty my presence and fill it with His overpowering love, here, where all those serving had offered all they had to give. I felt lifted, rising off the ground, floating in recognition of how good the world can be at those brief moments.
Sickeningly sentimental, eh? Sorry....
As always, I ponder without ceasing on our church struggle. Some have said, when it's over, the lasting legacy will be knowledge of the tactics employed by those determined to 'win.' I attended a meeting recently of the four churches in our Diocese who are temporarily worshipping elsewhere, having been displaced by those who call themselves Anglicans, pending a decision on property by the court. The purpose was mutual support and fellowship; it's gratifying to share the generosity that's been poured out upon us. A plan was made to hold a retreat, over a weekend, at the much beloved local mountain retreat, so that we could get to know each other better, and gain strength for the journey, as they say.
No sooner were the plans announced, then they were attacked as a cynical component of a dastardly masterplan by 'shadow' churches to inflict terrible evils upon God knows what. Although Connie prefers I not visit the sites she knows dangerously raise my blood pressure, I yet strive to read it all so as to gain perspective I might not otherwise would have known (see last week's post on yahoo). I could not resist posting a rejoinder; it actually resulted in a meaningful exchange between myself and another poster.
My posts were not retributive; I conveyed, as I always strive to do, what it is we represent, positively, in a way that inherently holds the statements to logic. While the post exchanges occured, the site writer, grew quiet. Is there any chance that she was affected so that she might write less antagonistically in the future, especially, when, at the same time she's tossing out epithets, she claims a desire for an amiable relationship.
Today I'm fasting in preparation for a medical procedure tomorrow. I still don't like it. Maybe I can use it in some spiritual sense? I doubt it.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
The first yahoo
I note this week I've been researching the web for an article I recall from college written by an Andrew Goodman (maybe) around 1974 (possibly) on what he called the yahoo: the near impossibility of holding an intelligent conversation with a conservative before they veer off the rails. If you google yahoo, today, in the post-pc age, well, you'll only hit tracks of the more famous search engine.
The shelves in my study are balanced with the classic conservative writings of Burke, Hayek, Kirk and Weaver, sprinkled amongst their liberal foes, and if it looks interesting, I admit to buying Fr. Richard John Neuhaus' First Things magazine, containing brilliant articles found nowhere else on the relationship of theology and culture.
The yahoo sneaks in at the back, in confirmation of the Goodman dictum, where the good Father comments on the affairs of thte day. This former Lutheran war protestor is a born again Catholic neo-con; a zealot who's seen the light and condemns all things post-Vatican II. (What C.S. Lewis would describe as a typical example of an over-the-top convert.)
In the June/July issue, Neuhaus trots out a very tired shibboleth for a walk: the anything-goes yahoo. This is, of course, what inevitably follows the union of a same-sex couple, or "institutionalizing relationships of every imaginable and barely imaginable thought." If Sally and Mary wed, you'll marry your Volvo. You know you've thought of it; you know you want to. You're just waiting on Sally and Mary to let loose a flood of Volvo love. When you cross examine Neuhaus' biography, it's no surprise to come across the usual yahoo suspects: the IRD and Scaife Foundation.
The yahoo shrugs off consequence and responsibility; the very qualities neo-con's bemoan liberals lack. On June 15, in opposition to hate crimes legislation, Pastor Harry Jackson of Hope Christian Church in Lanham, Maryland, was quoted in USA Today, "Let's say a congregational member has a diminished [mental] capacity, goes out and hurts somebody and is arrested and says, 'Pastor Jackson told me to do this." Most times, the anything-goes yahoo is just silly; the homophobic clergy yahoo, however, should be considered alarmed and dangerous, and approached with caution, if approached at all.
No one can tell when it comes to causes and consequences. The Atlantic reports this month, contrary to popular opinion, that Americans didn't wipe out the buffalo, by themselves, for themselves; it was actually caused by, and for, the benefit of the French and Prussian armies that needed new boots and belts after their war in 1871.
Who gets to tell who where to get off? Should Western environmentalists scold African and Chinese entrepreneurs for pollution when they're only trying to match the same harmful standard of living we take for granted?
Here's another surprise: it's been reported lately how Chinese brick factory owners kidnapped children for slave labor; how parents spent years reclaiming them. In response to negative world opinion, the Chinese passed worker protection laws. Who lobbied against it? According to the NY Times, "Baker & McKenzie's employment law group, which represents many of America's biggest corporations in China." A spokesperson said, "It will be more difficult to run a company here." Without child slave labor? You think? --yahoo let loose, running wild, full steam ahead; damn the consequences.
I'm not surprised, in the Murdoch-owned London Times, that religion writer Ruth Gledhill, in an interview with the Archbishop of Nigeria, served up the ragged agenda-yahoo: "Akinola will not contemplate going back into Communion with the U.S. unless they abandon completely the liberal gay agenda." While she's busy composing red herrings like "this is a man whose name strikes fear into the souls of Western Christian leaders," (the name strikes something but it aint fear), the most repulsively ugly yahoo of all slithers in on its belly when Akinola says of gays and lesbians, "They are sick and tired of normal heterosexaul relationships? We see it as a problem that can be treated."
I see. People reduced to problems; problems to be treated; with solutions; final solutions?
Amongst the voluminous scholarship surrounding Pope Pius XII's supposed involvement or non-involvement in the Holocaust, the justification arises, if the Vatican had voiced public opposition to the genocide of the Jews, then Catholics in occupied lands would have faced grave danger. Just how much persecution of the 'other,' is tolerable in the name of self-protection?
I note last week the broken-English comments of the leader of the Nigerian movement for gay human rights, Davic Mac-Iyalla: "We want to remain the ties Episcopalians so that we don't feel abandoned. We don't have anywhere to go but the Episcopal Church. We want to remain in communion with the Episcopal Church and the Archbishop of Canterbury, for example, the welcome of the Episcopal Church of everyone."
Mr. Mac-Iyalla is in exile; his life, forfeit, if he returns to his homeland. I wonder if Neuhaus considers that thought barely imaginable? Does Pastor Jackson or Akinola harbor any nagging concern for his safety, or is he merely a problem to be treated? Sometimes yahoo is ridiculous; oft times, yahoo kills.
The shelves in my study are balanced with the classic conservative writings of Burke, Hayek, Kirk and Weaver, sprinkled amongst their liberal foes, and if it looks interesting, I admit to buying Fr. Richard John Neuhaus' First Things magazine, containing brilliant articles found nowhere else on the relationship of theology and culture.
The yahoo sneaks in at the back, in confirmation of the Goodman dictum, where the good Father comments on the affairs of thte day. This former Lutheran war protestor is a born again Catholic neo-con; a zealot who's seen the light and condemns all things post-Vatican II. (What C.S. Lewis would describe as a typical example of an over-the-top convert.)
In the June/July issue, Neuhaus trots out a very tired shibboleth for a walk: the anything-goes yahoo. This is, of course, what inevitably follows the union of a same-sex couple, or "institutionalizing relationships of every imaginable and barely imaginable thought." If Sally and Mary wed, you'll marry your Volvo. You know you've thought of it; you know you want to. You're just waiting on Sally and Mary to let loose a flood of Volvo love. When you cross examine Neuhaus' biography, it's no surprise to come across the usual yahoo suspects: the IRD and Scaife Foundation.
The yahoo shrugs off consequence and responsibility; the very qualities neo-con's bemoan liberals lack. On June 15, in opposition to hate crimes legislation, Pastor Harry Jackson of Hope Christian Church in Lanham, Maryland, was quoted in USA Today, "Let's say a congregational member has a diminished [mental] capacity, goes out and hurts somebody and is arrested and says, 'Pastor Jackson told me to do this." Most times, the anything-goes yahoo is just silly; the homophobic clergy yahoo, however, should be considered alarmed and dangerous, and approached with caution, if approached at all.
No one can tell when it comes to causes and consequences. The Atlantic reports this month, contrary to popular opinion, that Americans didn't wipe out the buffalo, by themselves, for themselves; it was actually caused by, and for, the benefit of the French and Prussian armies that needed new boots and belts after their war in 1871.
Who gets to tell who where to get off? Should Western environmentalists scold African and Chinese entrepreneurs for pollution when they're only trying to match the same harmful standard of living we take for granted?
Here's another surprise: it's been reported lately how Chinese brick factory owners kidnapped children for slave labor; how parents spent years reclaiming them. In response to negative world opinion, the Chinese passed worker protection laws. Who lobbied against it? According to the NY Times, "Baker & McKenzie's employment law group, which represents many of America's biggest corporations in China." A spokesperson said, "It will be more difficult to run a company here." Without child slave labor? You think? --yahoo let loose, running wild, full steam ahead; damn the consequences.
I'm not surprised, in the Murdoch-owned London Times, that religion writer Ruth Gledhill, in an interview with the Archbishop of Nigeria, served up the ragged agenda-yahoo: "Akinola will not contemplate going back into Communion with the U.S. unless they abandon completely the liberal gay agenda." While she's busy composing red herrings like "this is a man whose name strikes fear into the souls of Western Christian leaders," (the name strikes something but it aint fear), the most repulsively ugly yahoo of all slithers in on its belly when Akinola says of gays and lesbians, "They are sick and tired of normal heterosexaul relationships? We see it as a problem that can be treated."
I see. People reduced to problems; problems to be treated; with solutions; final solutions?
Amongst the voluminous scholarship surrounding Pope Pius XII's supposed involvement or non-involvement in the Holocaust, the justification arises, if the Vatican had voiced public opposition to the genocide of the Jews, then Catholics in occupied lands would have faced grave danger. Just how much persecution of the 'other,' is tolerable in the name of self-protection?
I note last week the broken-English comments of the leader of the Nigerian movement for gay human rights, Davic Mac-Iyalla: "We want to remain the ties Episcopalians so that we don't feel abandoned. We don't have anywhere to go but the Episcopal Church. We want to remain in communion with the Episcopal Church and the Archbishop of Canterbury, for example, the welcome of the Episcopal Church of everyone."
Mr. Mac-Iyalla is in exile; his life, forfeit, if he returns to his homeland. I wonder if Neuhaus considers that thought barely imaginable? Does Pastor Jackson or Akinola harbor any nagging concern for his safety, or is he merely a problem to be treated? Sometimes yahoo is ridiculous; oft times, yahoo kills.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
The Spotsy Awards
I note this week it's July 4th and I'm sick and tired of writing about the Mugabes and Akinola's of the world; here's a few heroes to inspire rather than lament.
The life-time Spotsy for non-achievement goes to 73-year old Shivcharan Jatav of Jaipur, India. Mr. Jatav failed his 10th grade high school finals for the 39th time since 1969 (more than my Spanish, geometry and chemistry failures, combined, but not by much). He vows to try again. Get this gals; he says if he ever does pass, he'll be more the eligible bachelor then ever.
The Spotsy for courage-under-fire goes to professors and students at Baghdad U. The AP reports how a family of one coed, Afrah Kakhim, pays a trusted friend to drive her and nine others to campus. Some students skipped their finals after gunmen tried to ambush another minibus. She'd only answered two questions before the gunfire grew too intense and they fled the classroom. Over 200 professors have been killed since 2003. Afrah says, "I cannot let terrorism beat me. If they keep us from college, they will deny us everything. I defy all the difficulties to finish my studies. I need a job to help my family."
When I think of what I got up to in college...
The cutting-edge Spotsy goes to public libraries in DC, Jacksonville, Philadelphia, San Francisco, Los Angeles and New York where USA Today writes services for the homeless include seminars on health care, internet job search training, housing and counseling referrals, and a 5-day camp for homeless children.
On the other hand, a Spotsy curmudgeon goes to "Nancy Huntley, Director of the Lincoln Library in Springfield, Illinois," who, "says services for the homeless are outside the scope of a librarian's job. Our role is just to provide books and information."
Hold those boo's. I can't quite bring myself to condemn Nancy. First, I aspire myself to be a curmudgeon. Second, as a former shelter manager, I'm forced in my mind to balance the rights of 'ordinary,' patrons not to be accosted by panhandlers, or startled by loud inappropriate outbursts, while perusing the shelves in what I consider to be a holy space.
It's interestng Nancy's feelings surfaced at the Lincoln Library. I've spent the past month engrossed in, Team of Rivals, by Doris Kerns Goodwin. I'm looking at life through What Would Lincoln Do lens.
I find his way of approaching controversy similar to mine: perform in-depth reserach; agree with opponents where you can; contest all illogical arguments.
Lincoln didn't appeal to higher law though his language was often spiritual. He wasn't a believer in an afterlife, of things unproven. He discerned hallowed documents, then followed the precedent of law as inspired by the Declaration of Independence, and specifically codified as practice, by the Constitution; a relationship, similar perhaps, to Bible and Prayer Book.
I'm still unsure where that leaves Lincoln in regards to rights of homeless and non-homeless library patrons; maybe I'll figure that out by the end of this piece.
I'm on firmer ground predicting Lincoln's stance in our Church struggle. He undoubtedly would be for restoring union.
During the past two General Conventions, votes were tallied as two thirds for the consecreation of Bishop Robinson and the election of Bishop Katharine; surely a mandate for inclusion, in accordance with established electoral and legislative practices of The Episcopal Church. As a matter of conscience, Lincoln wouldn't have blocked the formation of an opposition Church party; he also wouldn't have countenanced a secession that included seizing property. Lincoln would have referred, not to the authority of the Bible, as a practical matter, but to the Canons and Constitution, as the final arbiter.
Lincoln consistently maintained it was crucial to prevent the spread of slavery to the territories; that in accordance with natural law and morality, the institution would eventually die out on its own where it already existed. Here, I must question, as did the abolitionists, why he did not consider it his responsbility to end the horrific injustice, immediately, despite the cost. The same question can be posed to St. Paul; he wrote slaves should be content with their lot in life due the immanence of the Second Coming. I can't accept Lincoln or Paul's logic here, nor can many African-Americans who are anti-Pauline for this reason. Nevertheless, once the union of the Church was restored, and inclusion Constitutionally enshrined, Lincoln definitely would have magnanimously embraced reconciliation.
I noted a few weeks ago the significance of the Vice President holding the offspring of his lesbian daughter. The Economist just posted survey results showing a whopping three quarters of 18-34 year olds think there's nothing wrong with being gay, as opposed to a majority over 55 who still think otherwise. The future belongs to inclusion; the notion that mainline churches will die out, over this issue, while fundamentalism will triumph, is proved false by the accurarial data, as long as those 18-34 year olds attend church at all. The crucial question remains, as it was for Lincoln, is how long must we wait, or must we wait at all?
There are those who believe the Civil War needn't have been fought; that Lincoln was right about a foredained end to the institution of slavery without the requisite bloodshed. My conscience, or energy of impatience, informs otherwise. Yet, our very continued existence as an evicted Episcopal parish stands as a more peaceful resistance to those whose ethos is formed by the superiority of exclusion. Within our temporary deprivation, there is no anger or bitterness, nor desire to make war on our enemies, only the same abundance of goodness and decency that has traditionally defined the parish, and indeed, Americans at their best. The last grace-under-pressure Spotsy goes to us, then, St. Margaret's Episcopal, of Woodbridge, Virginia, USA, in our year of the Lord, 2007.
Now, how about those rights of homeless and non-homeless library patrons. Can separate but equal needs be integrated in the same place at the same time? The answer must always be: yes.
The life-time Spotsy for non-achievement goes to 73-year old Shivcharan Jatav of Jaipur, India. Mr. Jatav failed his 10th grade high school finals for the 39th time since 1969 (more than my Spanish, geometry and chemistry failures, combined, but not by much). He vows to try again. Get this gals; he says if he ever does pass, he'll be more the eligible bachelor then ever.
The Spotsy for courage-under-fire goes to professors and students at Baghdad U. The AP reports how a family of one coed, Afrah Kakhim, pays a trusted friend to drive her and nine others to campus. Some students skipped their finals after gunmen tried to ambush another minibus. She'd only answered two questions before the gunfire grew too intense and they fled the classroom. Over 200 professors have been killed since 2003. Afrah says, "I cannot let terrorism beat me. If they keep us from college, they will deny us everything. I defy all the difficulties to finish my studies. I need a job to help my family."
When I think of what I got up to in college...
The cutting-edge Spotsy goes to public libraries in DC, Jacksonville, Philadelphia, San Francisco, Los Angeles and New York where USA Today writes services for the homeless include seminars on health care, internet job search training, housing and counseling referrals, and a 5-day camp for homeless children.
On the other hand, a Spotsy curmudgeon goes to "Nancy Huntley, Director of the Lincoln Library in Springfield, Illinois," who, "says services for the homeless are outside the scope of a librarian's job. Our role is just to provide books and information."
Hold those boo's. I can't quite bring myself to condemn Nancy. First, I aspire myself to be a curmudgeon. Second, as a former shelter manager, I'm forced in my mind to balance the rights of 'ordinary,' patrons not to be accosted by panhandlers, or startled by loud inappropriate outbursts, while perusing the shelves in what I consider to be a holy space.
It's interestng Nancy's feelings surfaced at the Lincoln Library. I've spent the past month engrossed in, Team of Rivals, by Doris Kerns Goodwin. I'm looking at life through What Would Lincoln Do lens.
I find his way of approaching controversy similar to mine: perform in-depth reserach; agree with opponents where you can; contest all illogical arguments.
Lincoln didn't appeal to higher law though his language was often spiritual. He wasn't a believer in an afterlife, of things unproven. He discerned hallowed documents, then followed the precedent of law as inspired by the Declaration of Independence, and specifically codified as practice, by the Constitution; a relationship, similar perhaps, to Bible and Prayer Book.
I'm still unsure where that leaves Lincoln in regards to rights of homeless and non-homeless library patrons; maybe I'll figure that out by the end of this piece.
I'm on firmer ground predicting Lincoln's stance in our Church struggle. He undoubtedly would be for restoring union.
During the past two General Conventions, votes were tallied as two thirds for the consecreation of Bishop Robinson and the election of Bishop Katharine; surely a mandate for inclusion, in accordance with established electoral and legislative practices of The Episcopal Church. As a matter of conscience, Lincoln wouldn't have blocked the formation of an opposition Church party; he also wouldn't have countenanced a secession that included seizing property. Lincoln would have referred, not to the authority of the Bible, as a practical matter, but to the Canons and Constitution, as the final arbiter.
Lincoln consistently maintained it was crucial to prevent the spread of slavery to the territories; that in accordance with natural law and morality, the institution would eventually die out on its own where it already existed. Here, I must question, as did the abolitionists, why he did not consider it his responsbility to end the horrific injustice, immediately, despite the cost. The same question can be posed to St. Paul; he wrote slaves should be content with their lot in life due the immanence of the Second Coming. I can't accept Lincoln or Paul's logic here, nor can many African-Americans who are anti-Pauline for this reason. Nevertheless, once the union of the Church was restored, and inclusion Constitutionally enshrined, Lincoln definitely would have magnanimously embraced reconciliation.
I noted a few weeks ago the significance of the Vice President holding the offspring of his lesbian daughter. The Economist just posted survey results showing a whopping three quarters of 18-34 year olds think there's nothing wrong with being gay, as opposed to a majority over 55 who still think otherwise. The future belongs to inclusion; the notion that mainline churches will die out, over this issue, while fundamentalism will triumph, is proved false by the accurarial data, as long as those 18-34 year olds attend church at all. The crucial question remains, as it was for Lincoln, is how long must we wait, or must we wait at all?
There are those who believe the Civil War needn't have been fought; that Lincoln was right about a foredained end to the institution of slavery without the requisite bloodshed. My conscience, or energy of impatience, informs otherwise. Yet, our very continued existence as an evicted Episcopal parish stands as a more peaceful resistance to those whose ethos is formed by the superiority of exclusion. Within our temporary deprivation, there is no anger or bitterness, nor desire to make war on our enemies, only the same abundance of goodness and decency that has traditionally defined the parish, and indeed, Americans at their best. The last grace-under-pressure Spotsy goes to us, then, St. Margaret's Episcopal, of Woodbridge, Virginia, USA, in our year of the Lord, 2007.
Now, how about those rights of homeless and non-homeless library patrons. Can separate but equal needs be integrated in the same place at the same time? The answer must always be: yes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)