Ironicschmoozer’s Weblog


Racist Big Government Crushes Minority Neighborhood– in Romania

A Unitarian Universalist I know sent me this summary and this link.  It’s pretty terrible, so I hope we can raise awareness and voices of protest.

Over 100 people living in a yard of houses on 50 Vulturilor Street, Bucharest, Romania, were forcefully evicted on Monday, September 15. The community has decided from the outset to protest and reclaim their rights. This fundamental right has been gravely violated when local police brutalized several members of the community on the 15th and the 16th of September. Among those targeted were children, elderly persons and persons with disabilities. The evicted have currently no genuine alternatives for relocation. They consider the treatment of officials a blunt breakage of their rights and a racist act given that most of the evictees identify as Roma So far 50 Romanian organizations joined the solidarity network progressively built with the evicted community on Vulturilor Street, either by asking local authorities to find immediately an adequate housing solution or by helping the people resist and organize in the street. The community is determined to keep protesting until their demands are met and the housing issue becomes a priority for the state and local authorities! More details here: http://www.criticatac.ro/lefteast/call-for-action-solidarity-with-vulturlor-str-bucharest/

They need money for food, medicines, tents, blankets, sleeping bags (wet and they keep changing), diapers for babies, plastic foils, fuel.

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Icons and Agitators: Maladjustment to the Way Things Are–UUSS Sermon for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Sunday

Rev. Roger Jones, Acting Senior Minister

Unitarian Universalist Society of Sacramento

January 19, 2014

Hymns: #116, I’m on My Way; #155, Circle Round for Freedom; #1018, Come and Go With Me

Choir:  Hush!  Somebody’s Callin’ My Name

Piano:

Prelude:  Lift Every Voice and Sing.

Meditation:  Precious Lord, Take My Hand

Offertory:  Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)

Postlude:   It Is Well with My Soul

 

Sermon

What fascinates me about the study of history is learning how the social advancements we consider to be normal, to be “the way things are,” did not come about easily.  To people who lived in the past, the achievements of equality and fairness that we take for granted were not assured or guaranteed.  Indeed, every step toward equality involved struggle and upheaval.

Should women have the right to vote and run for office?  Of course!  Few in public life would now say that’s a debatable question.  But until 1920, the road toward voting equality was messy and full of setbacks.  Some states allowed voting, others did not.  After the Senate approved the 19th Amendment to the United States Constitution, and enough states ratified that amendment, voting equality became the way things are.  Twenty-five senators had voted no, but history moved on, passing them by.  Many women who had begun the struggle in the 1800s were dead by then. They had given themselves to a cause that would outlive them.  Success was not predictable or guaranteed.

Likewise, ending American slavery was not predictable or guaranteed.  Nor were any of the gains of the Civil Rights Movement, of which Martin Luther King Jr. was the most prominent and inspiring leader.  But after we expand the circles of opportunity and freedom, it becomes easy to talk as if justice was obvious and success inevitable.

It is tempting to frame the history of a struggle for freedom in sweet words and warm images.  We can use the words of daring women and men not to urge us to achieve more, but merely to comfort ourselves, to make ourselves comfortable with the status quo.

We can use the words of heroic people only to honor them, while we avoid hearing them.

Martin Luther King worked against racism and segregation.  But he also preached against militarism and economic inequality.  According to scholar Michael Eric Dyson, in the later years of his brief life Dr. King’s views grew more radical.  Upsetting his colleagues and staff, Dr. King became one of the first high-profile leaders in America to oppose the American military involvement in Vietnam.  King highlighted the hypocrisy of suppressing freedoms in the name of protecting freedom.  We could not defend freedom by supporting rule by generals in Southeast Asia, he said.

Many politicians and the press ridiculed him for expressing his opinions about the war.  They questioned the ability of a southern black Baptist preacher to analyze international affairs (according to Dyson).  However, King had a Ph.D. from Boston University.  He had won the Nobel Peace Prize.  The historian Taylor Branch writes that King was the “the moral voice of America,” more than any office holder or elected leader.[i]   His opinions mattered, and he felt compelled to speak out.

His colleagues didn’t want his involvement with another controversy to dilute and distract from civil rights.  They feared he would alienate the Congress and President Lyndon Johnson, who had been a forceful supporter of the civil rights agenda.  Indeed, Johnson did feel betrayed by King’s opposition to the war, according to Dyson.[ii]

King’s response to his critics was this:  “I have worked too long now and too hard to get rid of segregation in public accommodations to turn back to the point of segregating my moral concern.” By articulating the linkages among types of injustice and oppression, he raised our discomfort, raised our national tension.

This was Dr. King’s gift and his role as a leader.  He could orchestrate a mix of tension and inspiration, the right blend of discomfort and conciliation.  To change, America needed challenge.  This took standing up and sticking his neck out.  That is a challenge that many of us can recall having in our own lives from time to time.  Dr. King did it for all our lives, for our common life and the common good.  Many times, Dr. King said:  “If a man hasn’t discovered something that he will die for, he isn’t fit to live.”  Such words, and his commitment to them, unsettle my comfort with the way things are.

Since his assassination in 1968, Dr. King has been turned from a strategist and an agitator into an icon. Leaders from all across the political spectrum and the range of religions now salute Martin Luther King.  It’s easier to honor someone who’s dead.  You don’t have to listen to him for real.   Leaders from across the spectrum make their own assertions about what Dr. King wanted for our society and what he would want.  This is what you can do with icons. With real people who carry out real movements for change, you have to wrestle.  They make us uncomfortable.  They unsettle our adjustment to the way things are.

We may be comfortable imagining Dr. King and his challenges to the America of 50 years ago, but what would his challenges be for us today?  What tension and what inspiration would he bring to us?

In King’s last years, he addressed poverty and economic injustice.  He launched the Poor People’s Campaign and argued for another March on Washington, like the one in the summer of 1963, but one lifting up economic injustice and poverty.  Men on King’s staff opposed this campaign—and they were all men on his staff.  They feared it would be a disaster, generating only the resistance of Congress and the anger of President Johnson.

According to Michael Eric Dyson, in 1966, King admitted that the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 had failed to improve the condition of poor blacks.  He said that progress had been “limited mainly to the Negro middle-class” (Dyson, 87).  With his Poor People’s Campaign, King endeavored to focus on the need to lift all people out of degrading poverty, including all black people.

He saw people as connected, no matter our identity and life circumstances.  “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere” is how he said it.  “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.”

In private, Dr. King told colleagues that he believed America must move toward democratic socialism. However, in public he did not use the term socialism.  The FBI under J. Edgar Hoover had waged a campaign to discredit the movement by smearing Dr. King as a Communist sympathizer.        King did not have Communist sympathies or alliances.  Communist regimes were anti-democratic, and Communist theory was anti-religious.  King said:  “I didn’t get my inspiration from Karl Marx.  I got it from a man named Jesus.”  He said that Jesus was “anointed to heal the broken hearted” and to deal with the problems of the poor, and those in captivity” (Dyson, 130).  In this spirit, King called for job creation programs, for full employment and for a guaranteed minimum income.

Dr. King said that full-time work should yield a person enough money to support a family.  In the years since 1980, for most of this nation’s people, income and wealth have stagnated, even shrunk when you consider the eroding effects of inflation.  Wealth has been concentrated more and more in the hands of a smaller percentage of people at the very top.  Two years ago, the Occupy Wall Street Movement brought to public attention the idea of the 99% and the 1%.  At the top, the 1%, are those who have gained by the shifting structures of economic policy, international trade agreements, tax breaks, and lax regulation in the financial services industry.[iii]

Meanwhile, for a growing mass of people, it has become harder to support a family on full-time work, even if two parents work full-time.

If Dr. King were alive right now, perhaps he would embrace campaigns for better funding of public schools and a restoration in financial aid for college.   Perhaps he would lead campaigns for a single-payer health care system available to all and for a higher minimum wage.  In pursuit of economic fairness, he might advocate for regulation of the financial services industry, and a reform of crop subsidies to move away from industrial agriculture and toward smaller, sustainable farms.  Perhaps he would speak for these goals, but I can’t be sure.

Such goals have come to seem less radical in these times, as ordinary American have grown more desperate, and as more working people feel the loss of economic security, and the loss of food security.  I am sure Dr. King would have would have made us uncomfortable.  He would have turned up the tension that political leaders feel about these issues.  Maybe he would call for more subsidized housing for low-income families and more mental health care for the lost souls wandering and sleeping on the streets.  He said: “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.”

If he were speaking to most of us right now, would he ask us if we need all the square footage many of us enjoy in our homes?  Would he challenge us for having a car of our own and the petroleum to run it, given what oil extraction does to local and global environments, not to mention to indigenous tribal communities who live near oil wells?  Would he ask us if we couldn’t still do okay financially without investing in portfolios that grow by pushing down worker’s wages and benefits, and by tearing down rain forests for beef grazing?

In India, Martin Luther King met with Mohandas K. Gandhi, to learn about the “soul force” of nonviolent resistance, which had been a tool of the Indian Freedom Struggle.  King saw dissent and rivalries among Gandhi’s inner circle, something he would find among his own leaders and staff members at home.  And he saw the massive poverty of people sleeping on the streets in Calcutta, hungry children and begging parents and elders.

Ten years ago I traveled in India, during a sabbatical for five weeks.  In cities around the country, I saw masses of barely housed and homeless and hungry people.  Many were begging, but some only were sitting in the heat, exhausted.  I even saw some of them weeping.  What came to my mind on my journey was the idea that most Indians seemed to accept this as normal, inevitable, the way things are.  There will always be destitute people around you.  Your task is to learn how to refuse the destitute, walk around them, ignore them.  The task of one who is not hurting in that way is to do anything except ask why such hurt persists.   If this is the way things are, you need not imagine how to change the system or why.  I could be wrong about Indian social attitudes—I bet I am wrong—but it made me think about us.

I see people begging for money at street intersections around here, holding cardboard signs.  I see more of them at more corners than I did just a year ago.

In thinking about India, I’m thinking about the person I saw Friday night at my apartment building in a sleeping bag, lying in the car port by the dumpster.   I’m doubtful that a handout of money would change such a situation.  But I wonder how normal we have let it become that so many people live on the street.  Is this now the way things are?  Is the choice now merely whether to give a dollar, or smile, or look the other way?

Is the question no longer, how did we let this happen?  Is the question now just whether to call the cops or the landlord so the person can be rousted from beside our dumpster, and find another dumpster to sleep near?

In May of 1966, Dr. King addressed the ministers and lay delegates of the General Assembly of Unitarian Universalist Association, meeting in Florida.   Every year the General Assembly holds a major lecture, the Ware Lecture, and he gave this lecture in 1966.[iv]

He called on our congregations to assert the basic sinfulness of racial segregation, refute the idea of racial superiority, and engage in action on legislation to expand the circles of equality and fairness.

And he cautioned us against the “myth… of exaggerated progress,” the idea that we’ve arrived.   He said:  “We should be proud of the steps we’ve made…. On the other hand, we must realize that the plant of freedom is only a bud and not yet a flower.”   He said we cannot stop with the way things are.

He spoke about the psychological term or label of a maladjusted personality.  He said:  “I must say to you this evening, my friends, there are some things in our nation and our world to which I’m proud to be maladjusted….  I call upon … all people of good will to be maladjusted to those things until the good society is realized.”

He listed the problems of life in America to which he wished we could remain maladjusted.   He said:   “I never intend to adjust myself to economic conditions that will take necessities from the many to give luxuries to the few, and leave millions of people perishing on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity.”

King’s life, and the deeds of so many people in the struggle for civil rights, unsettled a country that had adjusted to the way things are, as if it was always how things were going to be.

His words and life and the movement he led continue to challenge us to pay attention, take steps toward healing, stretch ourselves and let ourselves feel discomfort and maladjustment/ for the sake of a better world.

King said that life’s most urgent and persistent question is, “What are you doing for others?”  His legacy is the legacy of standing up for others, and standing up with others.

This legacy should discomfort us, and unsettle us, but it shouldn’t paralyze us.  His words and deeds should not freeze us in a sense of smallness or shyness or shame.  We should hear his words as the call to community, the call to standing up with others.

Part of the King legacy is the fact that today many organizers, leaders, volunteers and advocates of all generations are doing this work, bringing attention to unfair and unsustainable conditions.

I give thanks for those who give of their time in service, their treasure in generosity, and their courage and hope toward a better country and a better world.  I give thanks for those who dedicate their lives to the needs of others and those who risk their lives for the betterment of all of us, everywhere.

May the deeds of all those who struggle, serve, hope and give of themselves give us the courage not to get too adjusted to the way things are.  May their deeds challenge us.

May they awaken us into attention, imagination, action and courage.  So may it be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes


[i] Branch, Taylor. The King Years: Historic Moments in the Civil Rights Movement. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2013.

[ii] Dyson, Michael Eric.  I May Not Get there with YouThe True Martin Luther King, Jr.  New York:  Free Press, 2000.

[iii] See more analysis and stirring comment in columns by Chris Hedges on truthdig.com.



UU Sermon: Epiphany of the Face
 
January 6, 2012                                                             
Unitarian Universalist Society, Sacramento, California
Roger Jones, Associate Minister
 
Hymns  
SLT 100 (I’ve Got Peace Like a River), SLT 38 (Morning Has Broken), STJ 1010 (Oh, We Give Thanks), SLT 315 (This Old World).  Vocal duet:  “Simple Gifts,” congregation sings third time.

Pastoral Prayer

Now I invite you to a time of contemplation in word and silence.  This time will be followed by music.

Please settle your mind and spirit.  Notice your hands resting. Notice your feet and bodies, resting in the Spirit.  Notice the breath of life coming through you…as I offer these words.

Spirit of Life and of Love, bless us, and bless this world with peace and healing.

Give us hearts full of gratitude for the gift of life, and the blessing of this new day and this new year.  May this new year come as an invitation, an opening to possibility.  May we strive to greet the days ahead with serenity and courage, patience and compassion, curiosity and wondering.  May we be surprised by joy.

As we seek a fresh beginning, we know we cannot ignore the past.  We may grieve damaged relationships.  Let us release ourselves from the prison of resentment.  May we take a few more steps in the direction of healing and freedom.

At this time we may be thinking of loved ones we have lost to death—those lost recently, and those whose absence we mark at this time of worship.  Pat Setzer passed away last Monday after a long decline; she will be missed.  Other names of those we have lost are on our hearts.  Let us now speak their names into the space of our sanctuary.

We reach out in care to those facing a family crisis, medical challenge, financial distress, heartache and loss, and burdens of the body, mind or spirit.  At this time, life is ebbing away from Bill and Dorothy, two longtime members and loyal elders of this religious community.  Let us say the names of any of the others who need our love, and whose faces we can see in our minds.  Either whispering to ourselves or calling out our concerns for others to hear, let us now speak the names on our hearts into the space of our sanctuary.

Life has its light moments and joyful milestones also.  We give thanks for the moments of celebration, and we invite those names or events to be spoken into the space of our sanctuary. Alice, going into Americorps for a year of service.  Hillary, going to Germany to study this semester. …

May one another’s good news give all of us reasons for joy.

Let us remember the divine spark dwelling within us, and let it shine.  May we notice the needs and hungers of others; may we hear the lamentations of our human family.  We pray for the simple gift of a world at peace.  We long for violence to end, and we mourn the lives lost and bodies injured… here in this region, around this country, in all parts of the globe.      When we can make a difference, let us reach out.  When we have the chance to speak out, let us say what must be said.  When we can offer help, let us extend a hand. When we need help, let us ask for it, even when our voice is trembling.

Spirit of Life and of Love, bless us, and bless this world with peace and healing.  Blessed be, and amen.

 

Sermon

For Christmas I received a booklet of sticky notes entitled Commandments.  On the cover:  Moses in red robes, on Mt. Sinai, holding two stone tablets up in a lightning storm.  Open the little book, and on the left side, a pad of gray sticky notes, shaped like stone tablets.  Each one has the heading: “Thou Shalt.”  On the right side, a pad of notes that say:  “Thou Shalt Not.”  Could be handy for those with kids.

Though these two little pads hold more than 10 Commandments, this gift got me thinking about those commandments of Bible fame.   Jewish tradition is filled with commentaries, debates and stories about how to apply and live the Commandments, and which are most important.  And the Jewish teacher named Jesus got a question or two.

As reported in the Gospel of Luke, a religious scholar demanded to know what was most important for obtaining  eternal life.  “Well,” Jesus answered, “What’s written in God’s Law?”

[The man responded:] “That you love … your God—with all your passion and prayer and muscle and intelligence—and that you love your neighbor as well as you do yourself.  “Good answer!” said Jesus. “Do it and you’ll live.”  Looking for a loophole, the man asked, “And just how would you define ‘neighbor’?”

Jesus answered by telling a story. “There was once a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. On the way he was attacked by robbers. They took his clothes, beat him up, and went off leaving him half-dead [in a ditch]. Luckily, a priest was on his way down the same road…, but when he saw [the man] he angled across to the other side. Then a Levite [, another] religious man [,] showed up; he also avoided the injured man.   A Samaritan traveling the road came to him. When he saw the man’s condition, his heart went out to him. He gave him first aid, [cleaning] and bandaging his wounds. Then he lifted him onto his donkey, led him to an inn, and made him comfortable. In the morning he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take good care of him. If it costs any more, put it on my bill—I’ll pay you on my way back.’   

“What do you think? [Jesus asked.]  Which of the three became a neighbor to the man attacked by robbers?”  “The one who treated him kindly,” the religious scholar   responded.  Jesus said, “Go and do the same.”[i]  [Luke 10:25-37]

 

This old parable has generated much reflection and many interpretations.  A striking aspect, of course, is the hypocrisy of the holy priest and Levite, passing on by the hurting man.  But the story has a big surprise after that.  In any story told among Jews, a Samaritan would be an unlikely hero.  Samaritans were a strange, different tribe.  They were hated and feared. They were OTHER.  To hear that one of them would be merciful, generous, neighborly, and self-sacrificing.  That would get your attention.  So:   Why did he choose to be a neighbor, to care for this man in the ditch who was from a different belief system and culture?

Perhaps the Samaritan had an epiphany.  A spiritual experience, a moment of insight.  Today, January 6, is called Epiphany in the traditional calendar of the Christian year.  One kind of epiphany is the manifestation of a divine being.  But another kind, a more universal epiphany, is a sudden revelation, an insight.  I call it a cosmic kick in the head.   It’s when we see what we didn’t see before, and we are transformed.

This helpful Samaritan—what was his epiphany?  Perhaps it was as simple as this:  he looked on the face of that wounded man.  He didn’t turn away, but looked.  The priest and the Levite were too busy to see him; they crossed the road.  The Samaritan saw him in the face.

The late philosopher Emmanuel Levinas has said that the face of the other is an epiphany.  It is a revelation.  It is a moment of ethical challenge.  He explains that our human bodies are vulnerable and life is precarious.  Our identity comes from our dependence on others, our dependence on one another.  At the same time, Levinas says, our human nature can be violent; we have an impulse to exploit, harm, cheat, even kill.  Yet we also have the power to be merciful, kind, and generous. The human face communicates our vulnerability, but it also communicates an ethical demand: Do not kill me.  The epiphany of the face is humbling.  When we look on the face of the other, it speaks to us:  Do not kill me.  Do not let me die.  Do not let me die alone.

Emmanuel Levinas was born in 1906 to a Jewish family in Lithuania, and he died in 1995.  He moved to France for graduate studies and became a French citizen in 1930.  He spent much of the Second World War in captivity.  After the war, his philosophical teaching focused on ethics.  He argued that in philosophy, ethics is more important than truth-seeking.  We don’t need to know the nature of existence to sense our ethical duty to other people.  One’s ethical relation to “the other” comes before one’s relationship to the world, even before one’s relationship to himself or herself.[ii] (Levinas 1986, 21)

Are we basically good, or bad?  Are we worthy, or unworthy?  These are questions of human nature and identity, not of ethics.  They are not the first question of philosophy, for Levinas.  The first question, the first challenge to us from philosophy must be:  What is my duty to the other?

Levinas says that “the face of the other in its precariousness and defenselessness is, is for me at once the temptation to kill and the call to peace.”[iii] (Butler, 134)

University of California professor Judith Butler, writing about Levinas, explains:  “The Other’s face … at once tempts me [as a human being] with murder and prohibits me from acting on it.  The face operates to produce a struggle … [the] struggle at the heart of ethics.”  (Butler, 135)

Levinas says this demand is the heart of our identity;  “I am defined [he says] as … a singular person, as an ‘I,’ precisely because I am exposed to the other.”  It is because I am [inescapably answerable] to the other that makes me an individual.” (27)

Levinas was a secular thinker who identified with the tradition of Greek philosophers.  Yet he was Jewish, and he did write commetnaries on stories in the Bible, especially the Hebrew Scriptures.  Whereas traditional theologians might say the Bible is about the relationship of humans to God, Levinas would say that the stories in the Bible are about human beings encountering one another, face to face.  They are about the question:  Am I my brother’s keeper?  Am I my sister’s keeper?

Levinas says yes.  He reports:  “There is a Jewish proverb which says that ‘the other’s material needs are my spiritual needs.’”

In the story about Jesus, the scholar starts out selfishly: how can I get eternal life.  Jesus reminds him of Jewish law:  Love God all that you can and love your neighbor as yourself.  The next question is not:  Who or what is God?  And it’s not:  How much shall I love God?  The question is:  Who is my neighbor?  Jesus tells a story, and there’s not an easy answer to be found in it.

In Dostoyevsky’s novel The Brothers Karamazov, Al-yo-sha Karamazov says:  “We are all responsible for everyone else – but I am more responsible than all the others.”  He takes responsibility for his duty to the other, but refrains from imposing it on anyone else, from demanding of others ethically as much as he demands from himself.   

Once during a dialogue, another philosopher asked Levinas, if we aren’t  “ethically obliged to struggle for a perfect world of peace?”  Levinas said, “Yes, but I seek this peace not for me but for the other.”  This, he said, is his standard for himself. (31)

I’ve often wondered about the difference between ethics and morality.  I’m still not sure I understand it.  In any case, to Levinas they are not the same.  As I understand him, ethics is about a primary personal duty to the other.  Though morality “is … founded on an ethical responsibility,” it is about “a series of rules relating to social behavior and civic duty.  [Morality] operates in the [political and social] order [for] … improving our human survival.”

Levinas explains:  “If there were only two people in the world, there would be no need for law courts [or other social structures], because I would always be responsible” for the other.  “As soon as there are three, the ethical relationship with the other” involves community structures and political systems to balance competing needs and claims.  (21)

Ethics is not a rule of conduct or “a manifesto.” (29)  It is a struggle, a search, and a call.  We can feel it and hear it when we look upon the face.

Judith Butler says the face of the other speaks to us, “Speaks in a voice that is not its own.”  It speaks “in something other than language.”

She says:  “We need to hear the face as it speaks to know the precariousness of life that is at stake.” (151) This is the epiphany.

Butler recalls:  “In the Vietnam War, it was pictures of the children burning and dying from napalm that brought the US public to a sense of shock, outrage, remorse and grief.”  Seeing those pictures, seeing the precarious lives in whose deaths our fighting was involved, this country turned against our involvement in the war.  The public was not meant to see those pictures, Butler says; we were to see only images chosen to be portrayed as the face of the enemy, not images of as the face of suffering real people.

She writes:  “Media representations of the face of the ‘enemy’ [often remove or] efface what is most human about the face.” (Butler 2006, xviii).

Butler notes that in our recent wars in the Middle East, government and media have shown us few faces of civilian families destroyed by our weapons.  They have spoken few of the names of the civilian dead.   Now we use drone aircraft for waging war, which is undeclared but real.   A drone is a remotely flown plane for surveillance and for bombing.   Most often from the government we hear of terrorist leaders killed by drone strike; in the media we see a face pic of an enemy.  Yet, as activists and eyewitnesses are learning and trying to tell us, this new arms-length mode of smart combat can eviscerate as many civilian bodies and end as many children’s lives as the old fashioned kind.

Levinas has described ethical responsibility “as insomnia or wakefulness.” He says this is “because it is a perpetual duty … that can never slumber.” (30)

To be ethical, to love neighbor, is to be watchful and vigilant.  Love of neighbor “cannot sleep.”

Yet, Levinas writes, it is common for us to drift off to sleep, to give up watching.  It’s a choice commonly made.  Yet he says:  “Even if I deny my … responsibility to the other… I can never escape the fact that the other has demanded a response from me before I [assert] my freedom not to respond.”  (27)

This makes me think of panhandlers on the street.

Perhaps it is a common sight for you, as you walk, drive or bike around, to see men and women begging for money by the side of the road, at intersections, or on sidewalks near stores.  Perhaps you or someone you know has been in that situation, has been so desperate that panhandling seemed like the only option left.  Holding up a cardboard sign:

Please help.  Need food.  Homeless.

 Have kids.  Have AIDS.  Veteran.  Hungry. 

Thank you and God bless.

I can imagine that when we encounter this reality, we experience a wide variety of reactions.  Among us here is probably a range of opinions about how to respond when asked for money.  Some of us don’t want to say no.  We tell ourselves:  it’s not much money to me, and it can mean a lot to them.  Some of us feel we just can’t spare the money; things are that tight.  Some who work hard every day resent a person standing outside collecting money every day.   Some are afraid of getting scammed.  We may worry about financing an active addiction.   We may suspect that a given panhandler is not really homeless; what if he has disability income and a facility in which to live?   With a diversity of perspectives among us, this can be a rich and challenging topic of conversation.  For the record, here is my approach.  It’s not the perfect one, just the one I use.

While I may offer food if I have some, and I’ve bought meals for some people, I don’t give money to those begging for it.  Instead I direct my donations to local organizations that have a mission to help.  I trust their expertise in making good use of the money.  I let their staff decide who really needs what.  I trust them to set limits.  I trust them to wrestle over the question:  How much is enough?

So if I am walking down the sidewalk, and I get a request for money, I say, “I’m sorry, sir,” or “I’m sorry, ma’am.”  And I try to look at them.  Or, sitting in my car waiting for a red light to change, if a beggar is holding a crude sign six or eight feet from the window, I make myself look.  I look them in the face. I greet their eyes, nod once, or smile.     Of course a smile is not what they are soliciting, but it can’t hurt.  And looking into their face reminds me that they are human.  It challenges me.  It gives me questions I can’t answer.

Philosophers and spiritual teachers give us challenging questions.  They do not give us airtight answers. Often they can sound unrealistic, even utopian, in the ways they challenge us.

Levinas admits that he is accused of being utopian, of being unrealistic:  “’Where did you ever see the ethical relation practiced?’ people say to me.”

He replies:  “This concern for the other remains utopian in the sense that it is always… other than ‘the ways of the world.’”  Even so, he reminds us, “there are many examples of [this concern] in the world.”  (32)  Concern for the other is not the way of the world, but there are many examples of it in the world.

Even if our ethical relationship is utopian, he says, this “does not prevent it from investing our everyday actions [investing them with] generosity or goodwill towards the other:  even the smallest and most commonplace gestures, such as saying ‘after you’ as we sit at the dinner table or walk through a door, bear witness to the ethical.”

Reading philosophers is hard for me–learning a new vocabulary, wading through their wordiness, straining to make sense of a dense book.  Fortunately, some philosophy can be lived and felt without words.  We can practice our ethical awareness by looking at the face of the other, whoever that might be, however we might be given a glimpse of that face.  We can feel what the face has to say, without words, without language, with a voice we hear in our hearts.

When it comes to ethics, we can start with what is revealed when we encounter the face:  face to face, vulnerable human being to vulnerable human being.

Our actions matter.   We are bound together in vulnerability and in our need.  We need one another more than we know.

Blessed be, and peace.  So may it be.  Amen.


[i] Luke 10:25-37 from The Message translation by Eugene Peterson.

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke 10:25-37&version=KJV;MSG;NIV

[ii] (Levinas 1986)

[iii] (Butler 2006)

 

Butler, Judith. Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence. New York: Verso, 2006.

 

Levinas, Emmanuel and Richard Kearney. “Dialogue with Emmanuel Levinas.” In Face to Face with Levinas, by Richard A. Cohen. Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 1986.

 



Associate Minister’s January Newsletter Column: From Year to Year— Did We Make It to 2013?

I’m writing this on December 15, before the end of the world, if you believe what some people believe about an ancient Mayan calendar.

Planet X is on its way to collide with us.  Can we stop it?

I don’t know why these “galactic alignment” rumors are so preoccupying—a laugh line for comics, and a real source of worry for many people.

NASA’s popular “Ask an Astro-biologist” web page received thousands of queries.  Many people are losing sleep over this.  “Are you guys covering this up?” one asks.

The saddest thing — many of the writers are 12 to 16 years old.  Some of these kids say they have contemplated suicide.   A mom asked NASA to talk to her young son by phone because he is having nightmares.

Which is worse?  The lack of good scientific instruction in their schools, or the fact that our youth are so distressed, anxious, inconsolable to the point of hopelessness?  This is heartbreaking, not funny.

There is plenty to worry about on this precious planet–in our global community, our country and region.  There is enough loss, disaster, deprivation and cruelty to make us lament out loud like the psalmists and prophets of old.   The December 14 Connecticut school shootings only add to our bewilderment and grief.   It makes grown-ups weep and wail; what does it do to kids?  Surely our violent culture is pressing down on the souls of our young people.

Perhaps the Mayan doomsday worries are a way to focus our free-floating fears and our sources of despair into one specific thing.  I’m not sure.

My heart aches for all who suffer grief and fear that seem too much to bear.  My prayers go out to all the ends of the earth that we might find our way to peace—on our planet, around our nation, in our neighborhoods, and in every single heart.

Yet my heart sings also.

It sings with joy at the winter light in the bare tree branches, and at every breath I draw when standing at the window to greet the new day.  It sings when I give thanks.

My heart is warmed also.  It warms up when I see the faces of our people on Sunday—our elders, our active retirees, our young parents, our youth and kids, our staff.

I gain hope at UUSS when I see a curious baby turning its head to take in all there is to observe.  I am nurtured by the embrace of so many of you:  kind souls and good huggers.

Whoever you are–whatever your own hopes or heartbreaks, your joys or doubts–please know that this congregation welcomes you in your full humanity.

It is good to be with one another in this place.

New Year’s Blessings,

Roger  

P.S.—Don’t forget this is the time to submit your donations for the February 9 Service Auction and to buy tickets for this great dinner event, A Rose in the Winter Time.

To read the rest of our excellent January Newsletter–the Unigram–click this link:  http://uuss.org/Unigram/Unigram2013-01.pdf



2012 Election Results: As a UU, Pastor Cranky Is Pretty Happy

Unitarian Universalists around the country can be proud that we have been early leaders in the movement for marriage equality for same sex couples.   UUs and other progressive religious activists (and financial donors) were deeply involved in Maine’s approval of marriage equality by a vote–a turnaround for that state in voting, and the first time equality has been achieved by a vote and not by a court ruling or a legislative action.

It looks as if the same thing will happen in Washington State–a proactive, pro-marriage referendum will pass.  Maryland voters defeated an effort to revoke marriage equality for same sex couples, which legislators and the governor had earlier put in effect.  Minnesota voters stopped a ban on same sex marriage.   UU activists were involved in all of these efforts.

See www.standingonthesideoflove.org for more justice news.

The Hon. Tammy Baldwin was elected Wisconsin’s first woman U. S. Senator and first openly gay one.  I first heard her speak at a UU Interweave convocation hosted by our big church in Madison about 20 years ago, when she was a state legislator.  She was dazzling as a speaker, progressive advocate, leader, and woman.  She’s been in the U. S. House and now moves to the Senate.

Here in California voters approved several of the propositions recommended by the UU Legislative Ministry Action Network’s board and other progressive religious lobbying groups. While the death penalty did not get abolished (Prop. 34) in spite of my stirring sermon about it in September, and GMO food products will not have to be labeled as such (Prop. 37), other favored initiative did pass.

It was a great relief to me that Prop. 30 gained a majority– it is the tax increase to cut our budget deficit and support our public schools, community colleges and state universities.  As a Sacramento minister, I know how demoralizing it has been to many of the dedicated state civil servants to endure work furloughs, threatened layoffs, and layoffs of their coworkers.  I appreciate that voters were willing to take this step for fiscal sustainability.

Most UUs are pro-choice on abortion, though I do know some who identify as pro-life.  I am pro-choice.  As a native of Indiana, I was pleased that the open U. S. Senate seat went to the conservative Democrat rather than to the tea-party Republican who had said in a debate that he believes that a pregnancy caused by rape was intended by God.  Most other major races in Indiana went to Republicans, but not this one.

Locally, a few friends and friendly acquaintances either won election or are still in a race too close to call.  One dear friend did not win a seat on our municipal utility board, but he ran a strong campaign and inspired several dozen volunteers to put in many hours for him.



Need for Discretion in Dealing with Immigration and Local Policing: Need for Gov. Brown to Approve the TRUST Act!

This op-ed commentary in Friday’s Sacramento Bee is clear and compelling.  It explains what is wrong with ICE and the federal government’s “Secure Communities” program, and calls for Gov. Brown to sign the TRUST Act.  It is written by a Unitarian Universalist now retired from the California Supreme Court.

http://www.sacbee.com/2012/09/21/4840337/discretion-should-rule-in-immigration.html



Speaker Tuesday in Sacramento: Christian Right’s War on America’s Children

http://www.au-sac.org/
I spoke with a person from the local chapter of Americans United for the Separation of Church and State.  I think this author will be fascinating.  Sorry to say, I have a church meeting Tuesday night.