Rev. Jeremiah Wright

I have been watching the “Rev. Jeremiah wars”, as I have taken to calling the media coverage of this prophetic Pastor, with a growing horror. While I have been generally supportive of Rev. Wright, I must admit I was disappointed in his performance at the National Press Club dinner, it seemed like he was being deliberately belligerent, like he was “play acting” into the role that the media expected of him. Unlike the sermons and speeches that have been endlessly mined for provocative sound bites, I failed to see the point of some of the provocations he hurled at the Press Club and that saddened me. It will be a great loss if he becomes a caricature of himself, flinging outrageous statements around for the sake of saying them, rather than to make a profound point, examine historical indignities or tell a bitter truth, as he has done in the past.

That is the Jeremiah Wright that I have experienced, one who has shocked me, made me think and moved me many times towards a greater understanding of both the depth of my flaws and the amazing potential that lurks about the edges of the society in which I live, waiting to be invited in by folks like me, those of power and privilege. I will miss him if he is gone.

I am also deeply chagrined and disappointed at the media and its coverage. I’m not sure why I’m surprised, given the state of the corporate media these days, but each time I experience a more outrageous statement, or a failure to truly report on the context from which a given sound bite was taken, I sigh and shake my head, disbelieving and disheartened. I guess if my idealism is not gone at my age, I’m stuck with it.

Most of all, I am in despair over the idea that this ridiculous hyper-critical examination of what a candidate’s Pastor said when he was speaking in the pulpit, will destroy a candidacy that is, in my opinion, the greatest hope for my country, in what is possibly one of the darkest times we have faced as a nation.

That is the thing I fear the most, because I believe that the future of my country hangs in the balance, and there is no one, save Barack Obama himself, who is protesting this frivolous disregard for the truth, this blatant misuse of the precious right that is the free press. Surely Jefferson and Adams are spinning in their graves. May God help us.

Strength, Hope and Courage,

Suzanne

Resurrection

It being Easter, I’ve been thinking a lot about resurrection. Not the literal resurrection that many believe in, the restoration to life of the actual body of the crucified Jesus, but the kind that I think that the Passion story was meant to teach us. The resurrection that occurs when we are hopeless and lost, when we have been emotionally, spiritually or mentally crucified, and yet, we see our way clear and are reborn in a way we could never have imagined when we were in the grips of our darkest hour.

I am reminded of the many times I have felt defeated and confused, despairing of ever figuring out what I should do to find my way. Yet somehow, through varied venues and many amazing and surprising displays of grace, I have been able to see the path out, to struggle, to persevere and to ultimately triumph over that which I once thought to be an insurmountable obstacle. I have also witnessed complete transformations in the lives of many others, often in the face of barriers that I cannot even begin to imagine.

That’s the resurrection I believe in, one that does not involve the direct action of a divine being, but rather one that calls to all that is Holy in individual people, that which drives otherwise ordinary folks to dig deep within themselves and to rise up and achieve extraordinary things, to act in ways that enable themselves or others to transform their lives in most amazing and unexpected ways. Those are the miracles I look to when I need a reason to go on and they are taking place each and every day. That hopefulness, those displays of resilience and persistence, of tenacity and courage are what I believe is the point of the story of resurrection in the Gospels.

Here’s my Easter benediction:

As we celebrate today the newness of life, the rebirth of the earth and the continuance of the circle of life, let us be reminded too of the resurrection
Not the raising from the dead of a single person through a divine miracle, but the resurrection we see each day in our midst
From the glimpse we get of one we have loved and lost when we look into the eyes of a child, to the rebirth that we witness when those around us triumph over challenges great and small.
May we rest assured that the resurrection is indeed a promise
Not a divine one, but one that we make to one another.
Let us hope that each day we can find a way to keep that promise
And be agents of resurrection for each other.

Courage for our separate journeys to a collective resurrection,
Suzanne

We Refuse to Face the Truth

I have spent much of the last twenty four hours listening in disbelief, both to the Rev Jeremiah Wright , whom I once held in esteem, and to the pundits who have declared this “scandal” to be “the end” of the of the “messianic” rise of Barack Obama. (Pastorgate anyone?) I have decided that, rather than rocking back and forth holding my head, I will write this missive. It may turn out to be incoherent, but I hope to feel better for having written it.

First, I have listened to much of the material of Rev.Wright which people find objectionable and I do take exception to his inflammatory tone, his gross mischaracterizations and occasional exaggerations and his racism. However much of what I have heard on talk radio (and not of the right wing variety) is criticism of the substance of his remarks and many are expressing outrage at statements which are, in their essence, true.

For instance does anyone really believe that our government is NOT currently under the control of a group of paranoid, rich, white men? Or that the events of 9/11 were partly brought about by our long term policies regarding Israel and the Palestinian people? Or that the number of innocent people we have killed on foreign soil in the name of democracy dwarfs the number of Americans that have died? For God’s sake someone was even complaining about his remarks about the government’s complicity in the Tuskegee experiments on black men, something the government has admitted!!

It is my humble opinion that Rev. Wright could have said these things in a conciliatory tone and people would still be outraged because, even though I object to the way he said it, Rev. Wright spoke the truth and he has had the audacity to tell of things that we Americans, by and large, do not wish to believe, despite overwhelming evidence. Further, I believe that until we look that beast square in the face, until we accept that we, as a nation, have committed these horrible atrocities, we will be unable to prevent them from being fomented in our names in the future.

I also believe that many white Americans cannot accept criticism of the fundamental policies of the United States from a black man, because, despite all the layers of political correctness we put on it, many white folks feel that “they” should be grateful for all the things “we” have “given them”. And to speak the truth in such a confrontational way, well that’s just not what we expect from people who should be grateful. In truth, white America believes that Rev. Wright should be more like Barack Obama; he’s the sort of black man we like. I’m sorry this is so, but I believe it is.

On the question of whether this will affect Barack Obama’s chances to win the nomination, I will only say this: Rev. Wright was the Obama family Pastor. He was not their spokesperson. If we can hold candidates responsible for everything that anyone they associate with says, then we better fold up this democracy and head north.

I, for one, do not choose my friends and advisors on their likeness to me, on the likelihood that they will be a mirror for everything I hold dear. I rather like the idea that Barack includes people with disparate beliefs in his opinion circle, for it has been my experience that listening to others who hold very different opinions than mine is always a learning experience and rarely a bad one. If we are to weave a stronger, more peaceful America in coalition with those who are not like us (which is what Barack is saying), then listening to the “other” is a darn good place to start.

I remain hopeful about this election and hope this is simply a sandstorm in our collective sojourn out of the desert of the soul in which we find ourselves.

Strength and Courage for the journey,
Suzanne.

Yes We Can

A few days ago, as I struggled with deciding who to vote for in today’s primary, I perused the Web looking for clues as to the substantive difference between the two candidates I was considering, Clinton and Obama. I must admit that I have approached this election with a bit of a tarnished eye, I was so crushed by the last general election that I was loathe to get my hopes up for this one.

As I searched for some morsel of information that would tell me who to vote for, I came across the text of the speech Obama gave after his victory in New Hampshire and something stirred within me. I knew then that what I wanted was a candidate who could lift me up out of the morass of the last seven years, one who could reach down to the place of retreat in which I am cowering and pull me into the light. I need a candidate who offers me hope for the future of the country I love and that so often lately has made me ashamed. I knew that I needed my candidate’s policies to be ones that benefit the least among us, that care for the poor, the children, the elderly and all those who live on the margins each and every day. But I wanted something more.

When I read that speech, I realized that this country needs a leader who is inspirational, who speaks to that within us that is noble, loving and kind but, most of all can awaken that sense of hope that has fallen fallow in the face of the present administration’s callous disregard for much that we hold sacred. I have found my candidate.

An excerpt from that speech:

But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope. For when we have faced down impossible odds; when we've been told that we're not ready, or that we shouldn't try, or that we can't, generations of Americans have responded with a simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people.

Yes we can.

It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.

Yes we can.

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom through the darkest of nights.

Yes we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.

Yes we can.

It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the ballot; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.

Yes we can to justice and equality. Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity. Yes we can heal this nation. Yes we can repair this world.

Yes we can.

Well said Obama. I agree with you with all of my heart.

As for the rest of us, we will say it aloud, make it our mantra, our prayer, our hope, our blessing.

Yes we can. And we will.

Strength and Courage for the journey,
Suzanne

The "Something" That You Can Do

I wrote a sermon to deliver last week at my home church and although I seem to not have much time to write in this log right now, I figure I can at least steal my own work to post here. The sermon was about how doing justice work is hard and its even harder to maintain one's "mojo" for doing it in the face of so much need and so much defeat. I wanted to inspire people to take little steps, to not be daunted by the overwhelming nature of the work and not to feel that whatever they could do would be, to quote my grandfather, akin to "spitting in the ocean". The theme was drawn from an 18th century Unitarian minister who said:

I am only one,
But still I am one.
I cannot do everything,
But still I can do something.
And because I cannot do everything,
I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.

Working on the sermon got me to thinking about my Dad, who was not, on the surface, a social justice crusader, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that he was. Here's what I said about him:
"I like to say that my father was a mystery wrapped up in an enigma. He was a complex person who was, as we humans are, flawed. But as Luther and I spoke about this service, I realized one thing very clearly, my father fully and completely understood this concept of looking at the world through a justice lens. And as I thought about my childhood, I realized that he, in his own way, was an activist for justice throughout his life, though you will not find his name in any history books and to the best of my knowledge he participated in exactly one protest march.

He was an activist in two ways – He was successful in his work life and by the early 70’s he had risen to the position of District Director of Customs for the Baltimore region and as such had hundreds of employees reporting to him. In this job he was an active promoter of African Americans to positions that had previously been closed to them. He told me once that he did what everyone should do; he gave the job to the best person. Period. It was in fact that clear to him. He looked through that justice lens and acted on what he saw.

When he died, his Assistant Director, Lyle, came to me at the funeral home and asked me if I knew how much my father had done for the black people in his region. I said I thought I did, but as this man told me all of the roadblocks my father had removed from his way, I realized that I did not really know the extent of my father’s commitment. Lyle told me that he and many others believed that my father had not been promoted to Regional Director because of his tireless advocacy on behalf of others. When they discussed it once, my father said that he would not savor a promotion that came at the cost of his integrity. For my father, that was the something he could do.

I said earlier that my father truly understood looking through a justice lens. The reason I know that is because I realize now that this is the thing that my father was talking about all through my growing up years. You see, he had a justice lens and he also gave one to me. And he did not only give it to me, but throughout my childhood, he tirelessly showed me how to use it. He did not take me fishing or hiking, but he taught me how to operate that justice lens. I believe it to be the most important gift he gave to me. My father spoke to me of class and skin color privilege from as far back as I can remember. When Dr. King was assassinated in 1968 we lived outside of Washington DC. When the riots had been quelled, my father took us to the still smoldering areas and asked us what we thought about folks burning their own neighborhoods. He then explained about the lives of African Americans, the hundreds of years of discrimination, the lack of educational opportunities, the poverty they had endured. He then told of the hope that had come to them with the Civil Rights movement and the gains that had been made. And somehow he made me understand their anger and the despair.

He brought that alive for me, I was 7 years old, but I understood for the very first time how privileged I was. I think my father gave me the justice lens that day and I have never looked at the world in quite the same way since. Whenever issues of class came up, my father was quick to remind me that I was privileged not because of anything I had done, but because I had been born into a white, middle class family. It was through him that I came to understand that it was my responsibility to address the justice issues on the ground, where I lived and that I could not stand by and listen to racist jokes or silently witness discrimination or violence. It was, I believed, my responsibility to be one of those people who made the changes. Even in elementary school I knew that is was my responsibility to heed the call to bring justice to all people, to do the something that I could do."

I am amazed that, nearly 25 years after his death, I can still discover new things about my Dad. It made me smile. I wish I held beliefs that would tell me that he can see me, even after death. I'd like to believe he heard that sermon and was proud of me and knew that I was proud of him.

Just in case - here's a tip of my hat to my Dad - a social justice crusader in his own way.

Peace & Blessings for the journey,
Suzanne

A Piece of Quiet

This time of year, which should be about people loving and caring for each other, has become a frenzy of hedonistic consumerism and it just makes me weary. And I am very convinced that were Jesus to return (and just for the record - I don't think he will) he would be astonished, and likely angry, at what the celebration of his birth has become.

I preached in the Los Gatos church last Sunday on the topic of knowing that we are enough just as we are, despite all of the messages we get to the contrary. I decided to post an excerpt from that sermon here:

I find my spiritual and emotional “piece of quiet” when I am able to access that place deep in my heart that knows that I am not powerless in the face of all that is wrong in this crazy world. It tells me that I can live a life imbued with purpose right here in this spot where I have been placed, whether by cosmic accident or divine inspiration. I may not be able to fix everything in the world, but, I can fix some things, and strive to live my life in a way that make this earth a kinder, more caring and better place ... and so can you.

And however you do that will be the right way, as Mary Anne Radmacher said: "Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,”I will try again tomorrow""

We are all limited creatures -- with limitless possibilities. So the best we can do is settle with intention and purpose into this singular, amazing and unique life that we have .. right here ... right now ... in this place we now find ourselves, a world full of tears and pain but also a world full of miracles and joy ... and trust that it is enough ... always enough ... to simply keep trying to be the very best people that we can be

And just as we are, we are enough

Blessed Be and Amen,
Suzanne

Let my people go........and while you're at it, let all the people go!!

So much for posting here every few days!! I am in crazy mode at the present time. I have been asked to fill a pulpit this Sunday for a Minister who was taken ill. I have a service at the end of this month at my home church, a presentation at the Napa church the Sunday before Christmas and a service to prepare for my home church on the programs at my Internship site, the UULM, to be co-presented with my mentor/supervisor. Plus... I have a training to do for clergy and seminarians on healthcare at the end of January. And the governor is not budging on THAT subject, don't get me started...... Finally I have to arrange several “UU Voices for Healthcare” trainings at UU churches around the Bay. Hence I have not posted much!!

Anyway – I was planning the end of December service with Luther, a man from my church who I admire, and he commented that I seem to be profoundly am influenced by the writings of Dr. King. The more I read of his writings, the more I believe that he was, at the time of his death, moving from his position as a champion for civil rights for blacks, to a believer that which afflicted black people, afflicted all people who were poor, albeit minus the additional oppression that comes with their skin color. He would have been a powerful voice for economic justice for all people had he lived. I am sad to consider the situation we are in today and to imagine what he might have accomplished had his life not been cut short.

That’s all I can write now, except to say that I came across a quote a few months ago that I would like to share:

Who we listen to determines what we hear.
Where we stand determines what we see.
What we do determines who we are."
-Robert McAfee Brown

Peace & Blessings for the journey,
Suzanne