Thursday October 15, 2009 A Manifesto!
The Time Has Come! I have made a decision. I will no longer debate the issue of homosexuality in the church with anyone. I will no longer engage the biblical ignorance that emanates from so many right-wing Christians about how the Bible condemns homosexuality, as if that point of view still has any credibility. I will no longer discuss with them or listen to them tell me how homosexuality is "an abomination to God," about how homosexuality is a "chosen lifestyle," or about how through prayer and "spiritual counseling" homosexual persons can be "cured." Those arguments are no longer worthy of my time or energy. I will no longer dignify by listening to the thoughts of those who advocate "reparative therapy," as if homosexual persons are somehow broken and need to be repaired. I will no longer talk to those who believe that the unity of the church can or should be achieved by rejecting the presence of, or at least at the expense of, gay and lesbian people. I will no longer take the time to refute the unlearned and undocumentable claims of certain world religious leaders who call homosexuality "deviant." I will no longer listen to that pious sentimentality that certain Christian leaders continue to employ, which suggests some version of that strange and overtly dishonest phrase that "we love the sinner but hate the sin." That statement is, I have concluded, nothing more than a self-serving lie designed to cover the fact that these people hate homosexual persons and fear homosexuality itself, but somehow know that hatred is incompatible with the Christ they claim to profess, so they adopt this face-saving and absolutely false statement. I will no longer temper my understanding of truth in order to pretend that I have even a tiny smidgen of respect for the appalling negativity that continues to emanate from religious circles where the church has for centuries conveniently perfumed its ongoing prejudices against blacks, Jews, women and homosexual persons with what it assumes is "high-sounding, pious rhetoric." The day for that mentality has quite simply come to an end for me. I will personally neither
tolerate it nor listen to it any longer.
The world has moved on, leaving these elements of the Christian Church that cannot adjust to new knowledge or a new consciousness lost in a sea of their own irrelevance. They no longer talk to anyone but themselves. I will no longer seek to slow down the witness to inclusiveness by pretending that there is some middle ground between prejudice and oppression. There isn't. Justice postponed is justice denied. That can be a resting place no longer for anyone. An old civil rights song proclaimed that the only choice awaiting those who cannot adjust to a new understanding was to "Roll on over or we'll roll on over you!" Time waits for no one. I will particularly ignore those members of my own Episcopal Church who seek to break away from this body to form a "new church," claiming that this new and bigoted instrument alone now represents the Anglican Communion. Such a new ecclesiastical body is designed to allow these pathetic human beings, who are so deeply locked into a world that no longer exists, to form a community in which they can continue to hate gay people, distort gay people with their hopeless rhetoric and to be part of a religious fellowship in which they can continue to feel justified in their homophobic prejudices for the rest of their tortured lives. Church unity can never be a virtue that is preserved by allowing injustice, oppression and psychological tyranny to go unchallenged. In my personal life, I will no longer listen to televised debates conducted by "fair-minded" channels that seek to give "both sides" of this issue "equal time." I am aware that these stations no longer give equal time to the advocates of treating women as if they are the property of men or to the advocates of reinstating either segregation or slavery, despite the fact that when these evil institutions were coming to an end the Bible was still being quoted frequently on each of these subjects. It is time for the media to announce that there are no longer two sides to the issue of full humanity for gay and lesbian people. There is no way that justice for homosexual people can be compromised any longer. I will no longer act as if the Papal office is to be respected if the present occupant of that office is either not willing or not able to inform and educate himself on public issues on
which he dares to speak with embarrassing ineptitude. I will no longer be respectful of the leadership of the Archbishop of Canterbury, who seems to believe that rude behavior, intolerance and even killing prejudice is somehow acceptable, so long as it comes from third-world religious leaders, who more than anything else reveal in themselves the price that colonial oppression has required of the minds and hearts of so many of our world's population. I see no way that ignorance and truth can be placed side by side, nor do I believe that evil is somehow less evil if the Bible is quoted to justify it. I will dismiss as unworthy of any more of my attention the wild, false and uninformed opinions of such would-be religious leaders as Pat Robertson, James Dobson, Jerry Falwell, Jimmy Swaggart, Albert Mohler, and Robert Duncan. My country and my church have both already spent too much time, energy and money trying to accommodate these backward points of view when they are no longer even tolerable. I make these statements because it is time to move on. The battle is over. The victory has been won. There is no reasonable doubt as to what the final outcome of this struggle will be. Homosexual people will be accepted as equal, full human beings, who have a legitimate claim on every right that both church and society have to offer any of us. Homosexual marriages will become legal, recognized by the state and pronounced holy by the church. "Don't ask, don't tell" will be dismantled as the policy of our armed forces. We will and we must learn that equality of citizenship is not something that should ever be submitted to a referendum. Equality under and before the law is a solemn promise conveyed to all our citizens in the Constitution itself. Can any of us imagine having a public referendum on whether slavery should continue, whether segregation should be dismantled, whether voting privileges should be offered to women? The time has come for politicians to stop hiding behind unjust laws that they themselves helped to enact, and to abandon that convenient shield of demanding a vote on the rights of full citizenship because they do not understand the difference between a constitutional democracy, which this nation has, and a "mobocracy," which this nation rejected when it adopted its constitution. We do not put the civil rights of a minority to the vote of a plebiscite. I will also no longer act as if I need a majority vote of some
ecclesiastical body in order to bless, ordain, recognize and celebrate the lives and gifts of gay and lesbian people in the life of the church. No one should ever again be forced to submit the privilege of citizenship in this nation or membership in the Christian Church to the will of a majority vote. The battle in both our culture and our church to rid our souls of this dying prejudice is finished. A new consciousness has arisen. A decision has quite clearly been made. Inequality for gay and lesbian people is no longer a debatable issue in either church or state. Therefore, I will from this moment on refuse to dignify the continued public expression of ignorant prejudice by engaging it. I do not tolerate racism or sexism any longer. From this moment on, I will no longer tolerate our culture's various forms of homophobia. I do not care who it is who articulates these attitudes or who tries to make them sound holy with religious jargon. I have been part of this debate for years, but things do get settled and this issue is now settled for me. I do not debate any longer with members of the "Flat Earth Society" either. I do not debate with people who think we should treat epilepsy by casting demons out of the epileptic person; I do not waste time engaging those medical opinions that suggest that bleeding the patient might release the infection. I do not converse with people who think that Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans as punishment for the sin of being the birthplace of Ellen DeGeneres or that the terrorists hit the United Sates on 9/11 because we tolerated homosexual people, abortions, feminism or the American Civil Liberties Union. I am tired of being embarrassed by so much of my church's participation in causes that are quite unworthy of the Christ I serve or the God whose mystery and wonder I appreciate more each day. Indeed I feel the Christian Church should not only apologize, but do public penance for the way we have treated people of color, women, adherents of other religions and those we designated heretics, as well as gay and lesbian people. Life moves on. As the poet James Russell Lowell once put it more than a century ago: "New occasions teach new duties, Time makes ancient good uncouth." I am ready now to claim the victory. I will from now on assume it and live into it. I am unwilling to argue
about it or to discuss it as if there are two equally valid, competing positions any longer. The day for that mentality has simply gone forever. This is my manifesto and my creed. I proclaim it today. I invite others to join me in this public declaration. I believe that such a public outpouring will help cleanse both the church and this nation of its own distorting past. It will restore integrity and honor to both church and state. It will signal that a new day has dawned and we are ready not just to embrace it, but also to rejoice in it and to celebrate it.
– John Shelby Spong
Monday, October 19, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Fun facts from the 1500's
A little history from John Obrien. Enjoy.
The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the 1500s:
Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and they still smelled pretty good by June.. However, since they were starting to smell . .. . brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married. Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water!"
Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying "It's raining cats and dogs." There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence. The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, "Dirt poor." The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entrance-way. Hence: a thresh hold.In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire.. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme: Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, "bring home the bacon." They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat.Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake. England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus,someone could be saved by the bell or was considered a dead ringer...
They used to use urine to tan animal skins, so families used to all pee in a pot & then once a day it was taken & sold to the tannery.......if you had to do this to survive you were "Piss Poor" But worse than that were the really poor folk who couldn't even afford to buy a pot......they "didn't have a pot to piss in" & were the lowest of the low.
And that's the truth...Now, whoever said History was boring ! ! !
The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the 1500s:
Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and they still smelled pretty good by June.. However, since they were starting to smell . .. . brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married. Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water!"
Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying "It's raining cats and dogs." There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence. The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, "Dirt poor." The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entrance-way. Hence: a thresh hold.In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire.. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme: Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, "bring home the bacon." They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat.Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake. England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus,someone could be saved by the bell or was considered a dead ringer...
They used to use urine to tan animal skins, so families used to all pee in a pot & then once a day it was taken & sold to the tannery.......if you had to do this to survive you were "Piss Poor" But worse than that were the really poor folk who couldn't even afford to buy a pot......they "didn't have a pot to piss in" & were the lowest of the low.
And that's the truth...Now, whoever said History was boring ! ! !
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
So there's this blonde on a plane...
A PLANE IS ON ITS WAY TO TORONTO WHEN A BLONDE IN ECONOMY CLASS GETS UP AND MOVES TO THE FIRST CLASS SECTION AND SITS DOWN IN A VACANT SEAT. THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT SEES HER DO THIS, ASKS TO SEE HER TICKET AND THEN TELLS HER THAT HER TICKET IS FOR ECONOMY CLASS AND THAT SHE WILL HAVE TO GO BACK TO HER ASSIGNED SEAT. THE BLONDE REPLIES, 'I'M BLONDE, I'M BEAUTIFUL, AND I'M GOING TO STAY RIGHT HERE UNTIL WE GET TO TORONTO." THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT GOES INTO THE COCKPIT AND TELLS THE PILOT AND CO-PILOT THAT THERE IS A WOMAN SITTING IN FIRST CLASS THAT BELONGS IN ECONOMY AND WON'T MOVE BACK TO HER SEAT. THE CO-PILOT GOES INTO THE FIRST CLASS SECTION AND TRIES TO EXPLAINTO THE BLONDE THAT BECAUSE SHE ONLY PAID FOR ECONOMY, SHE WILL HAVE TO LEAVE AND RETURN TO HER SEAT. THE BLONDE REPLIES, 'I'M BLONDE, I'M BEAUTIFUL, AND I'M GOING TO STAY RIGHT HERE UNTIL WE GET TO TORONTO." THE CO-PILOT GOES TO TELL THE PILOT THAT THEY PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE THE POLICE WAITING WHEN THEY LAND TO ARREST THIS BLONDE WOMAN WHO WON'T LISTEN TO REASON. THE PILOT SAYS, 'DID YOU SAY SHE'S A BLONDE? I'LL HANDLE THIS - I'M MARRIED TO A BLONDE. I SPEAK BLONDE." SO HE GOES BACK TO THE BLONDE AND WHISPERS IN HER EAR FOR A SECOND AND SHE SAYS, "OH, I'M SORRY," AND GETS UP AND GOES BACK TO HER ORIGINAL SEAT IN ECONOMY. THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT AND CO-PILOT ARE AMAZED AND ASK THE PILOT WHAT IN THE WORLD HE SAID TO MAKE HER MOVE WITHOUT ANY FUSS. THE PILOT RESPONDS, "I TOLD HER FIRST CLASS WASN'T GOING TO TORONTO."
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Detached Retina
Today I found out I have a fully detached and torn retina in my left eye. This was discovered during my annual eye appt when you cover one eye, look at the little light etc. everything went fine with the left eye covered/right eye working but when I covered the right eye and the tech said to look straight ahead into the light, I said I don't see any light. She said let me adjust your chin and head position against the machine, which she did, but still no light. she pushed the apparatus away and began waving her hand in front of my left eye. I said all I could see was movement and shadows. Turns out I've been living with this for months (even driving!), but didn't notice it because I already have peripheral loss of vision to my left. I thought the things I couldn't see clearly were somehow impacted by the peripheral problem when in reality I can't see anything in front of that eye AT ALL! My right eye has done a good job of compensating so fortunately I've been able to proceed as if I had better vision on the left. Fast forward: I spent most of the afternoon in a vitreous retinal ophthalmologist's office in Mt View (a friend drove me). The condition is operable, although of course there is no guarantee of significant improvement. As Dr. Boldery said, "With luck you'll be able to see the large E on the eye chart." He did advise the operation might be worth it because in the event something happens to my right eye (God forbid), I would want as much use as possible out of the left one. The drawbacks? Lots of pain and swelling following the surgery (under local in a hospital) and weeks of eye drops and follow up visits Oh for joy... Next I will be seeing a colleague in Dr. Boldery's office who specializes in precisely the kind of reparative surgery I need. If we all agree, which I suspect we will, I will go to Good Samaritan in Los Gatos for the procedure. It is covered by Medicare so I might as well let them pay before they go bankrupt or are bought out by John Deere
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Guns, a Plane Ride, and War
Guns, a Plane Ride, and War by Susan R. Johnson, MD, FAAP 5/22/09 www.YouAndYourChildsHealth.org I recently evaluated a kindergarten-aged child who began having physically and emotionally violent nightmares since November of last year. In her first nightmare, she and her classmates were standing up against a wall and their teacher was shooting at them. In her kindergarten class, gunplay had been allowed in the playground for most of the school year. According to her parents, children were shooting one another, sometimes in the back, with “imaginary” automatic weapons. Her parents wanted her out of that kindergarten class. There were other kindergarten classes at that school where the teachers did not encourage gunplay and usually redirected it. The parents wanted my help and advice. I remember when this issue came up with my 5 year old son. I attended a class at the Children's Health Council in Palo Alto where a psychologist discussed gunplay as being normal and part of the “healthy” development of young boys. Somehow that argument has never made sense to me. I thought about the current state of our world and our relationships. I thought about what Martin Luther King, Gandhi, Buddha, Christ and the Dalai Lama would have to say about this topic. I knew that if you made gunplay “strictly forbidden” and showed a strong emotional reaction to it, then the child would actually be drawn to the activity. Yet, gunplay was so easy to redirect. Just stating in a matter of fact voice that it was never okay to hurt another Human Being was enough. We did have water filled toys for squirt fights and my son received a gun with suction darts one time for his birthday, but shooting at another Human Being was never okay. Interestingly, my son's early exposure to gun play was an invitation to a classmate's birthday party. The entire class of 5th grade boys spent several hours firing paint balls at each other. Frankly, that activity didn't make sense to me either. I pondered over all of these questions as I boarded a plane for the East Coast where I was invited to speak at an elementary school about the seven essential ingredients for a healthy child and healthy family. The young man who sat next to me must have been in his mid to early 20?s. He could easily have been my son. He told me that he had just finished a second tour in Iraq and was on a 21 day leave. He was traveling all over the United States to see everyone, family and friends, that he had ever known or cared about before he had to return. He was going to be sent to fight in Afghanistan this time. I thanked him for going to Iraq. I shared with him that my Grandfather had taken care of soldiers that had survived the Bataan Death March. My father-in-law had fought in the Army during World War II and my Dad had served later as a ship's doctor in the Navy. I asked him what were the hardest things he had to endure while in Iraq. He talked about not being able to bathe or shower for 70 days at a time and explained why Baby Wipes were so appreciated. He was grateful for the Girl Scout cookies, Starbucks coffee, and Gatorade though also said one of his comrades just had six cavities! He was moved by the outpouring of care packages that they all received from people they had never even met. I asked what he missed the most thinking he would talk about something he missed from his home town. He told me, that as strange as it may seem, what he missed the most right now was his gun; even though he didn't want to miss it. “You see”, he said, “I clean my gun everyday, I care for it, and I sleep with it. My gun is my friend and it makes me feel safe.” I told him that I didn't want my son to go to war because I just didn't believe that killing ever solved any problems. For me, war just generated more hatred, grief, and revenge. He agreed. He said that he had enlisted in the military because he wanted to serve our country, and he was promised tuition for education, good pay, health benefits, and of course travel all over the world. He said that just about everyone he knows in the service is drinking alcohol, getting stoned, and taking drugs just to numb the pain. “You are psychologically messed up and maimed for life”, he said. “What is the point of having money for education when you can't use it? When you come back, you don't fit in.” Many guys he knew were now yelling at the ones they loved and were sometimes violent. The saddest thing for him was that three of his fellow comrades had recently committed suicide during their 21 day leave because they did not want to return and because their lives at home were in such turmoil. He, himself, had been married for several years and he and his wife were now getting a divorce because she couldn't understand why he wanted to go back. He said he had a high probability of being killed because of his particular job. I asked him why he was going back. He told me, “I am going so your son doesn't have to go. So other mother's sons don't have to experience what I have had to experience. I have decided to continue doing this job to keep someone else from taking my place, to save them.” “But what should I tell my son?”, I asked, “If he wants to serve his country?” “Tell him”, he said, “That I would not have my son do this.” The plane descended and I wanted to cry. He was one of my sons. He was one of OUR sons. When I finally arrived at the home of the family where I was to stay for the weekend while giving my workshop, I met the parents who also had a daughter attending kindergarten. I told them that they had to excuse me for I was feeling a little overwhelmed from my plane ride. “I hate war”, I said. “It makes no sense. When will we as Human Beings learn to respect each other, to love each other, and just get along?” Then the mother shared something with me. She had been a CNN war correspondent for many years and even had written a book about her experiences. She said once you see a father grieving for his dead child that is cradled in his arms, it doesn't matter anymore which side of the war he is on. I did not need to ask her what she felt about gunplay in her daughter's kindergarten class. The answer was already in her eyes.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Suicide is not painless
One of the lines from the great TV series MASH I've never liked is from the opening theme song: "Suicide is painless, it brings on many changes, and I can take or leave it if I please.." I suppose if the one committing suicide does it via carbon monoxide poisoning or a drug overdose, it could be considered painless; hanging oneself or slitting one's wrists or throat would, I assume, not happen without pain. Here in northern California the #1 method of suicide used to be jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. Now it is jumping in front of a train on the Caltrain tracks and it occurs with alarming frequency.
I'm writing this because a very good friend of mine from my time in Cleveland took his life this week. I don't know why - not that it would alter my emotions - but according to a friend of his, Scott was having "difficulties." I myself was hospitalized twice in a psych unit in 1996 for suicidal ideation. I wanted to take my life because I was newly disabled and didn't see any future for myself. Fortunately, my psychiatrist did see a future for me and made sure I was safe and taken care of in the hospital. In a twist of irony, it was my friend Scott who drove me home after I was released the first time. On the way to my house he told me about a mutual friend of ours who had taken her life while I was in the hospital and I was shocked and deeply saddened that Shana would choose to sit in her garage with the engine running for some unknown reason. She had a new boyfriend and they seemed to be doing well together. When I finally saw him he was so grief-stricken that he could barely talk.
This is the part of suicide I think of most when I think about it not being painless: the tremendous hurt and grief it causes family members and friends who survive. Scott has two sons, both in Arizona where his former wife lives. The oldest boy, Thomas, is in college; the younger one, Allen, is about to graduate from high school. Whatever happiness or sense of accomplishment he would have felt at commencement will now be nearly blotted out by the shadow of grief hanging over his head.
Here is what I've learned about suicide: It often happens when the person feels there is no way out for whatever situation they are in. It could be a relationship issue, financial difficulties, a job loss, or even the death of other family members. What one needs in such a predicament is this:
1. To be surrounded by others who can help him or her see that their problem can be dealt with. There are all kinds of community resources and private practitioners who can provide counseling, debt consolidation or whatever. How many of us have lived through the break-up of a relationship, a divorce, the death of a loved one or a sudden job loss? There IS life after these things happen; the person contemplating suicide just doesn't see it.
There was a woman in the psych unit with me the first time who had slit her wrists in frustration because her husband had become unstable and she was overburdened with caring for him around the clock. Since I was newly disabled and being cared for by home health aides, I suggested to her that she could hire someone to look after her husband. Surprisingly, that idea had not occurred to her. Just think of all the stress, the grief and drama that could have been avoided had she known about home health agencies.
On the Caltrain tracks near where I live there are now signs posted at regular intervals that read, in both English and Spanish, "STOP! If you need help for a problem, call this number..."
I don't know what was troubling Scott. In all our emails, phone conversations and occasional face to face meetings over the last few years, he never mentioned anything. And this is the other thing one needs to do when feeling overwhelmed:
2. Get help. Let someone know what you are going through; don't be ashamed to ask for help - it is not a sign of weakness but of strength.
When I look back on my two incidents of nearly taking my life in 1996, I now realize several things:
I'm writing this because a very good friend of mine from my time in Cleveland took his life this week. I don't know why - not that it would alter my emotions - but according to a friend of his, Scott was having "difficulties." I myself was hospitalized twice in a psych unit in 1996 for suicidal ideation. I wanted to take my life because I was newly disabled and didn't see any future for myself. Fortunately, my psychiatrist did see a future for me and made sure I was safe and taken care of in the hospital. In a twist of irony, it was my friend Scott who drove me home after I was released the first time. On the way to my house he told me about a mutual friend of ours who had taken her life while I was in the hospital and I was shocked and deeply saddened that Shana would choose to sit in her garage with the engine running for some unknown reason. She had a new boyfriend and they seemed to be doing well together. When I finally saw him he was so grief-stricken that he could barely talk.
This is the part of suicide I think of most when I think about it not being painless: the tremendous hurt and grief it causes family members and friends who survive. Scott has two sons, both in Arizona where his former wife lives. The oldest boy, Thomas, is in college; the younger one, Allen, is about to graduate from high school. Whatever happiness or sense of accomplishment he would have felt at commencement will now be nearly blotted out by the shadow of grief hanging over his head.
Here is what I've learned about suicide: It often happens when the person feels there is no way out for whatever situation they are in. It could be a relationship issue, financial difficulties, a job loss, or even the death of other family members. What one needs in such a predicament is this:
1. To be surrounded by others who can help him or her see that their problem can be dealt with. There are all kinds of community resources and private practitioners who can provide counseling, debt consolidation or whatever. How many of us have lived through the break-up of a relationship, a divorce, the death of a loved one or a sudden job loss? There IS life after these things happen; the person contemplating suicide just doesn't see it.
There was a woman in the psych unit with me the first time who had slit her wrists in frustration because her husband had become unstable and she was overburdened with caring for him around the clock. Since I was newly disabled and being cared for by home health aides, I suggested to her that she could hire someone to look after her husband. Surprisingly, that idea had not occurred to her. Just think of all the stress, the grief and drama that could have been avoided had she known about home health agencies.
On the Caltrain tracks near where I live there are now signs posted at regular intervals that read, in both English and Spanish, "STOP! If you need help for a problem, call this number..."
I don't know what was troubling Scott. In all our emails, phone conversations and occasional face to face meetings over the last few years, he never mentioned anything. And this is the other thing one needs to do when feeling overwhelmed:
2. Get help. Let someone know what you are going through; don't be ashamed to ask for help - it is not a sign of weakness but of strength.
When I look back on my two incidents of nearly taking my life in 1996, I now realize several things:
- I could easily have been hurt and not dead - alive and in tremendous pain.
- I would have inflicted upon my family and friends a grief so terrible they would end up burdened for the rest of their lives
- I would have missed out on all the wonderful experiences I've had in the last 13 years - and all those that still await me.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Former Miss California defends gay marriage
Friends: I hope you will read this wonderfully crafted, Biblically sound statement in favor of gay marriage by former Miss California Nicole Lamarche, a Pacific School of Religion graduate who is now a UCC minister in Massachusetts.
Peace, Grant F. Sontagrainbowrev@comcast.net
http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=75378698854&h=E5TMd&u=p2Y5A&ref=nf
Peace, Grant F. Sontagrainbowrev@comcast.net
http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=75378698854&h=E5TMd&u=p2Y5A&ref=nf
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Enya
In the 90's someone introduced me to the New Age music of the Irish singer Enya and I fell in love with it. When I went for an MRI in February of '96 I took a CD with me as a friend suggested I do that as a way of drowning out the hammering noise of the machine (it sounds like a jackhammer in your ears). The radiology tech piped the music in, adjusted the volume to my satisfaction, and off we went. He liked the music so much he wrote down the info off the jacket.
Months later as I lay in the hospital following the removal of a tumor which the MRI had confirmed, a friend brought in a portable CD and Enya comforted me again. The CD went with me to the rehab hospital where I spent three months following the stroke that occurred after the removal of the (benign) tumor. Again the melodies soothed me off to sleep at night.
When I returned home from the hospital and clicked on "Play" to listen again, this time Enya's voice filled me with anxiety as it brought echoes of the stroke. In time my anxiety subsided and now I can listen again in peace and gratitude. Thank you Enya.
Months later as I lay in the hospital following the removal of a tumor which the MRI had confirmed, a friend brought in a portable CD and Enya comforted me again. The CD went with me to the rehab hospital where I spent three months following the stroke that occurred after the removal of the (benign) tumor. Again the melodies soothed me off to sleep at night.
When I returned home from the hospital and clicked on "Play" to listen again, this time Enya's voice filled me with anxiety as it brought echoes of the stroke. In time my anxiety subsided and now I can listen again in peace and gratitude. Thank you Enya.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Tzu Chi
Most of what I have learned about Christianity since Sunday School has left me with the impression that this is the religion that cares - about other people and all of God's creation. In the United Church of Christ, my denomination, we aim especially to help especially those who suffer or are victims of injustice. While it is never stated as such, I have gotten the impression that "we" do this at the exclusion of much of the rest of Christendom. In fact,I don't recall being specifically informed about the benevolence of traditions other than my own. My eyes were opened the other night by a sign in a restaurant window that read, ".. To let go is actually to receive boundless happiness." - Tzu Chi Foundation. Wondering what this foundation was, I looked it up and discovered it is a spiritual organization devoted to relieving the suffering of Taiwan's impoverished East coast. You can read more about it here: http://www.tzuchi.org/global/about/index.html
Thursday, February 26, 2009
"Lenting" Go of Resentments
First off, let me admit that I am a person who harbors resentments all too readily. The Oxford English Dictionary definition speaks for me: Resentment: 1. "An indignant sense of injury or insult received or perceived..." 2. "A negative attitude towards society or authority arising, often unconsciously, from an aggressive envy and hostility, frustrated by a feeling of inferiority or impotence."
The word itself is derived from the French for re + sentiment, or, to re-feel, to feel again. I can testify to my own tendency to re-feel slights, real or imagined. What I don't understand (yet) is why anyone would want to keep on feeling something that is uncomfortable (and has proven ill consequences for one's health). The only thing I can come up with is that it's like picking at a scab - you know you're not supposed to, and in a way you don't even want to, because it's painful and could cause bleeding or lead to infection. And yet there's a sort of perverse satisfaction at continuing to pick at that scab - to re-feel the sensation, even if it's one of pain.
Last Sunday when I arrived at church - late, as usual - I saw in the bulletin that the preacher was the youth minister and I was disappointed because, truth to tell, I didn't think she was all that good the first time I heard her. However, as God is wont to do in trying to get through to us, the minister's message was just what I needed to hear. She observed that Lent begins this week and that, traditionally, people decide to give up something in order to prepare for Holy Week and Easter coming 40 days from now. Typical things one might give up include rich foods (chocolate!), alcohol, tobacco, and even one's money in the form of donations to help those less fortunate. But what if, the youth minister posited, we decided to give up some of our resentments during Lent? Brilliant! I decided then and there that I would do just that, and in fact I let go of a resentment I had recently cultivated toward a family member who had not yet acknowledged an act of kindness toward him on my part.
One spiritual practice I've learned to engage in when feeling resentful is to pray for that person and so that is what I have been doing. What a wonderful - and welcome - surprise awaited me the next time I turned on my computer and checked for messages, because right there in front of me was a thank you note from the family member in question. No more resentment on my part, and clearly not on his. So, what are you giving up for Lent?
The word itself is derived from the French for re + sentiment, or, to re-feel, to feel again. I can testify to my own tendency to re-feel slights, real or imagined. What I don't understand (yet) is why anyone would want to keep on feeling something that is uncomfortable (and has proven ill consequences for one's health). The only thing I can come up with is that it's like picking at a scab - you know you're not supposed to, and in a way you don't even want to, because it's painful and could cause bleeding or lead to infection. And yet there's a sort of perverse satisfaction at continuing to pick at that scab - to re-feel the sensation, even if it's one of pain.
Last Sunday when I arrived at church - late, as usual - I saw in the bulletin that the preacher was the youth minister and I was disappointed because, truth to tell, I didn't think she was all that good the first time I heard her. However, as God is wont to do in trying to get through to us, the minister's message was just what I needed to hear. She observed that Lent begins this week and that, traditionally, people decide to give up something in order to prepare for Holy Week and Easter coming 40 days from now. Typical things one might give up include rich foods (chocolate!), alcohol, tobacco, and even one's money in the form of donations to help those less fortunate. But what if, the youth minister posited, we decided to give up some of our resentments during Lent? Brilliant! I decided then and there that I would do just that, and in fact I let go of a resentment I had recently cultivated toward a family member who had not yet acknowledged an act of kindness toward him on my part.
One spiritual practice I've learned to engage in when feeling resentful is to pray for that person and so that is what I have been doing. What a wonderful - and welcome - surprise awaited me the next time I turned on my computer and checked for messages, because right there in front of me was a thank you note from the family member in question. No more resentment on my part, and clearly not on his. So, what are you giving up for Lent?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Jewish Humor
Remember the Jewish Catskill comics of Vaudeville days, such as Shecky Green, Red Buttons, Totie Fields, Milton Berle, Henny Youngman, and many others? They had a great gift for humor... and not one single swear word in their comedy. Here are some examples of their work:
* There was a beautiful young woman knocking on my hotel room door all night! I finally had to let her out.
* A car hit an elderly Jewish man. T he paramedic says, "Are you comfortable?" The man says, "I make a good living."
* I just got back from a pleasure trip. I took my mother-in-law to the airport.
* I've been in love with the same woman for 49 years. If my wife ever finds out, she'll kill me!
* We always hold hands. If I let go, she shops.
* My wife and I went back to the hotel where we spent our wedding night; only this time, I stayed in the bathroom and cried.
* My wife and I went to a hotel where we got a waterbed. My wife called it the Dead Sea.
* She was at the beauty shop for two hours. That was only for the estimate. She got a mud pack and looked great for two days. Then the mud fell off.
* The doctor gave a man six months to live. The man couldn't pay his bill, so the doctor gave him another six months.
* The Doctor called Mrs. Cohen saying, "Mrs. Cohen, your check came back." Mrs. Cohen answered, "So did my arthritis!"
* Doctor: "You'll live to be 60!" Patient: "I AM 60!" Doctor: "See! What did I tell you?"
* A doctor holds a stethoscope up to a man's chest. The man asks, "Doc, how do I stand?" The doctor says, "That's what puzzles me!"
* Patient: "I have a ringing in my ears." Doctor: "Don't answer!"
* A drunk is in front of a judge. The judge says, "You've been brought here for drinking." The drunk says, "Okay, let's get started."
* A bum asked a Jewish fellow, "Give me $10 till payday." The Jewish fellow responded, "When's payday?" The bum said, "I don't know! You're the one that's working!"
* Why do Jewish divorces cost so much? They're worth it.
* I wish my brother would learn a trade, so I would know what kind of work he's out of.
* The Harvard School of Medicine did a study of why Jewish women like Chinese food so much. The study revealed that this is due to the fact that Won Ton spelled backwards is Not Now.
* There is a big controversy on the Jewish view of when life begins. In Jewish tradition, the fetus is not considered viable until it graduates from medical school.
* Q: Why don't Jewish mothers drink? A: Alcohol interferes with their suffering.
* Q: Why do Jewish mothers make great parole officers? A: They never let anyone finish a sentence.
* A man called his mother in Florida, "Mom, how are you?" "Not too good, "said the mother, "I've been very weak." The son said, "Why are you so weak?" She said, "Because I haven't eaten in 38 days." The son said, "That's terrible. Why haven't you eaten in 38 days?" The mother answered, "Because I didn't want my mouth to be filled with food if you should call."
* A Jewish boy comes ho me from school and tells his mother he has a part in the play. She asks, "What part is it? The boy says, "I play the part of the Jewish husband." The mother scowls and says, "Go back and tell the teacher you want a speaking part."
* Q: How many Jewish mothers does it take to change a light bulb? A: (Sigh) "Don't bother. I'll sit in the dark. I don't want to be a nuisance to anybody."
* Did you hear about the bum who walked up to a Jewish mother on the street and said, "Lady I haven't eaten in three days." "Force yourself," she replied.
* Q: What's the difference between a Rottweiler and a Jewish mother? A: Eventually, the Rottweiler lets go.
* Short summary of every Jewish holiday: They tried to kill us, we won, let's eat.
* There was a beautiful young woman knocking on my hotel room door all night! I finally had to let her out.
* A car hit an elderly Jewish man. T he paramedic says, "Are you comfortable?" The man says, "I make a good living."
* I just got back from a pleasure trip. I took my mother-in-law to the airport.
* I've been in love with the same woman for 49 years. If my wife ever finds out, she'll kill me!
* We always hold hands. If I let go, she shops.
* My wife and I went back to the hotel where we spent our wedding night; only this time, I stayed in the bathroom and cried.
* My wife and I went to a hotel where we got a waterbed. My wife called it the Dead Sea.
* She was at the beauty shop for two hours. That was only for the estimate. She got a mud pack and looked great for two days. Then the mud fell off.
* The doctor gave a man six months to live. The man couldn't pay his bill, so the doctor gave him another six months.
* The Doctor called Mrs. Cohen saying, "Mrs. Cohen, your check came back." Mrs. Cohen answered, "So did my arthritis!"
* Doctor: "You'll live to be 60!" Patient: "I AM 60!" Doctor: "See! What did I tell you?"
* A doctor holds a stethoscope up to a man's chest. The man asks, "Doc, how do I stand?" The doctor says, "That's what puzzles me!"
* Patient: "I have a ringing in my ears." Doctor: "Don't answer!"
* A drunk is in front of a judge. The judge says, "You've been brought here for drinking." The drunk says, "Okay, let's get started."
* A bum asked a Jewish fellow, "Give me $10 till payday." The Jewish fellow responded, "When's payday?" The bum said, "I don't know! You're the one that's working!"
* Why do Jewish divorces cost so much? They're worth it.
* I wish my brother would learn a trade, so I would know what kind of work he's out of.
* The Harvard School of Medicine did a study of why Jewish women like Chinese food so much. The study revealed that this is due to the fact that Won Ton spelled backwards is Not Now.
* There is a big controversy on the Jewish view of when life begins. In Jewish tradition, the fetus is not considered viable until it graduates from medical school.
* Q: Why don't Jewish mothers drink? A: Alcohol interferes with their suffering.
* Q: Why do Jewish mothers make great parole officers? A: They never let anyone finish a sentence.
* A man called his mother in Florida, "Mom, how are you?" "Not too good, "said the mother, "I've been very weak." The son said, "Why are you so weak?" She said, "Because I haven't eaten in 38 days." The son said, "That's terrible. Why haven't you eaten in 38 days?" The mother answered, "Because I didn't want my mouth to be filled with food if you should call."
* A Jewish boy comes ho me from school and tells his mother he has a part in the play. She asks, "What part is it? The boy says, "I play the part of the Jewish husband." The mother scowls and says, "Go back and tell the teacher you want a speaking part."
* Q: How many Jewish mothers does it take to change a light bulb? A: (Sigh) "Don't bother. I'll sit in the dark. I don't want to be a nuisance to anybody."
* Did you hear about the bum who walked up to a Jewish mother on the street and said, "Lady I haven't eaten in three days." "Force yourself," she replied.
* Q: What's the difference between a Rottweiler and a Jewish mother? A: Eventually, the Rottweiler lets go.
* Short summary of every Jewish holiday: They tried to kill us, we won, let's eat.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Depression
I suffer from depression, something of course I don't like, but I'm not ashamed to admit it. Beginning in adolescence, then through college and beyond, I had what I call garden variety depression - a general sense of unhappiness about my life and myself. I began no see a psychiatrist during my sophomore year in college because I was so torn up inside that I was spending hours a day on my dorm bed curled up in the fetal position. Depression is exhausting; it strips you of energy and enthusiasm. And it's not just about feeling down; it's classified by health professionals as a mental illness.
In my twenties I would have said that depression is something that's kind of in the air - like what was called vapors in the Middle Ages. I know now that it is really about brain chemistry.
In 1996 I suffered a massive stroke, after which I became despondent, obsessing about being disabled and then deciding I wanted to end my life. I had what used to be called a nervous breakdown. My psychiatrist put me in the psych unit ("mental ward") until I could get well enough to return home. She said the reason that people who are suicidal are put in the hospital is so that they will be safe and their medications can be monitored, and adjusted if necessary. I was already taking Effexor, the drug we settled on after I tried - and rejected - Paxil and Zoloft. Dr. F. told me that even though I had a depressive personality before the stroke, I now suffered from post-stroke depression, an entirely distinct clinical diagnosis. I still suffer from it, twelve years after the blood clot lodged in the right parietal lobe of my brain. And even though with the help of therapy and medication I have achieved some degree of normalcy, every once in a while the bottom drops out again - as it did last night.
I don't know what happened, but after I went to bed I couldn't stop obsessing about my life being of little worth (note: this is not the same as feeling suicidal. I KNOW what that feels like and I know to get help if that happens). The ironic thing is that just yesterday I received praise of the highest order from several different people I interact with personally and professionally. They just think Grant is the greatest, but inside I don't feel so great - I just want to crawl in a hole and hide. I ended up lying in bed awake all night until 7:00 a.m., at which time I called a friend and told him how rotten I felt. He asked what about, and I ended up spouting off about how I was in the best physical condition of my life in 1996. I worked out every day on my lunch hour, using Cybex machines for muscle, lap swimming for aerobics, and tennis for the sheer fun of it. And there I was, playing sets on the rooftop courts at the Athletic Club at One Cleveland Center, and other men watching me play would actually approach me and ask if I would play them. Since the rule of thumb in tennis, like other sports, is to find someone at or above your level of play, I was obviously being approached by men who either thought I was as good as they were or better than they were. Something like this had never happened in my life before. In sports since junior High I was always the skinny unco-ordinated one who didn't know the rules, would drop the ball, or get killed playing defense. When I quit high school PE to join the tennis team I felt liberated. I practiced and practiced and practiced - and the main friend I played with was a classmate who was just enough better than I was that we both got a good workout when playing matches.
So last night I'm lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, and obsessing on my losses instead of focusing on my gains. It was a real bitch. Fortunately I have tools to help me and I know how to use them. So I can say now, twenty four hours after the clouds moved in, I am feeling just enough better to take an Ambien and go to bed, listening to some soft music, wondering what the morning will bring.
In my twenties I would have said that depression is something that's kind of in the air - like what was called vapors in the Middle Ages. I know now that it is really about brain chemistry.
In 1996 I suffered a massive stroke, after which I became despondent, obsessing about being disabled and then deciding I wanted to end my life. I had what used to be called a nervous breakdown. My psychiatrist put me in the psych unit ("mental ward") until I could get well enough to return home. She said the reason that people who are suicidal are put in the hospital is so that they will be safe and their medications can be monitored, and adjusted if necessary. I was already taking Effexor, the drug we settled on after I tried - and rejected - Paxil and Zoloft. Dr. F. told me that even though I had a depressive personality before the stroke, I now suffered from post-stroke depression, an entirely distinct clinical diagnosis. I still suffer from it, twelve years after the blood clot lodged in the right parietal lobe of my brain. And even though with the help of therapy and medication I have achieved some degree of normalcy, every once in a while the bottom drops out again - as it did last night.
I don't know what happened, but after I went to bed I couldn't stop obsessing about my life being of little worth (note: this is not the same as feeling suicidal. I KNOW what that feels like and I know to get help if that happens). The ironic thing is that just yesterday I received praise of the highest order from several different people I interact with personally and professionally. They just think Grant is the greatest, but inside I don't feel so great - I just want to crawl in a hole and hide. I ended up lying in bed awake all night until 7:00 a.m., at which time I called a friend and told him how rotten I felt. He asked what about, and I ended up spouting off about how I was in the best physical condition of my life in 1996. I worked out every day on my lunch hour, using Cybex machines for muscle, lap swimming for aerobics, and tennis for the sheer fun of it. And there I was, playing sets on the rooftop courts at the Athletic Club at One Cleveland Center, and other men watching me play would actually approach me and ask if I would play them. Since the rule of thumb in tennis, like other sports, is to find someone at or above your level of play, I was obviously being approached by men who either thought I was as good as they were or better than they were. Something like this had never happened in my life before. In sports since junior High I was always the skinny unco-ordinated one who didn't know the rules, would drop the ball, or get killed playing defense. When I quit high school PE to join the tennis team I felt liberated. I practiced and practiced and practiced - and the main friend I played with was a classmate who was just enough better than I was that we both got a good workout when playing matches.
So last night I'm lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, and obsessing on my losses instead of focusing on my gains. It was a real bitch. Fortunately I have tools to help me and I know how to use them. So I can say now, twenty four hours after the clouds moved in, I am feeling just enough better to take an Ambien and go to bed, listening to some soft music, wondering what the morning will bring.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Inauguration benediction by the Rev. Joseph Lowery
God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, thou who has brought us thus far along the way, thou who has by thy might led us into the light, keep us forever in the path, we pray, lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met thee, lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget thee. Shadowed beneath thy hand may we forever stand -- true to thee, O God, and true to our native land.
We truly give thanks for the glorious experience we've shared this day. We pray now, O Lord, for your blessing upon thy servant, Barack Obama, the 44th president of these United States, his family and his administration. He has come to this high office at a low moment in the national and, indeed, the global fiscal climate. But because we know you got the whole world in your hand, we pray for not only our nation, but for the community of nations. Our faith does not shrink, though pressed by the flood of mortal ills.
For we know that, Lord, you're able and you're willing to work through faithful leadership to restore stability, mend our brokenness, heal our wounds and deliver us from the exploitation of the poor or the least of these and from favoritism toward the rich, the elite of these.
We thank you for the empowering of thy servant, our 44th president, to inspire our nation to believe that, yes, we can work together to achieve a more perfect union. And while we have sown the seeds of greed -- the wind of greed and corruption, and even as we reap the whirlwind of social and economic disruption, we seek forgiveness and we come in a spirit of unity and solidarity to commit our support to our president by our willingness to make sacrifices, to respect your creation, to turn to each other and not on each other.
And now, Lord, in the complex arena of human relations, help us to make choices on the side of love, not hate; on the side of inclusion, not exclusion; tolerance, not intolerance.
And as we leave this mountaintop, help us to hold on to the spirit of fellowship and the oneness of our family. Let us take that power back to our homes, our workplaces, our churches, our temples, our mosques, or wherever we seek your will.
Bless President Barack, First Lady Michelle. Look over our little, angelic Sasha and Malia.
We go now to walk together, children, pledging that we won't get weary in the difficult days ahead. We know you will not leave us alone, with your hands of power and your heart of love.
Help us then, now, Lord, to work for that day when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, when tanks will be beaten into tractors, when every man and every woman shall sit under his or her own vine and fig tree, and none shall be afraid; when justice will roll down like waters and righteousness as a mighty stream.
Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around -- (laughter) -- when yellow will be mellow -- (laughter) -- when the red man can get ahead, man -- (laughter) -- and when white will embrace what is right.
Let all those who do justice and love mercy say amen.
AUDIENCE: Amen!
REV. LOWERY: Say amen --
AUDIENCE: Amen!
REV. LOWERY: -- and amen.
AUDIENCE: Amen! (Cheers, applause.)
END.
We truly give thanks for the glorious experience we've shared this day. We pray now, O Lord, for your blessing upon thy servant, Barack Obama, the 44th president of these United States, his family and his administration. He has come to this high office at a low moment in the national and, indeed, the global fiscal climate. But because we know you got the whole world in your hand, we pray for not only our nation, but for the community of nations. Our faith does not shrink, though pressed by the flood of mortal ills.
For we know that, Lord, you're able and you're willing to work through faithful leadership to restore stability, mend our brokenness, heal our wounds and deliver us from the exploitation of the poor or the least of these and from favoritism toward the rich, the elite of these.
We thank you for the empowering of thy servant, our 44th president, to inspire our nation to believe that, yes, we can work together to achieve a more perfect union. And while we have sown the seeds of greed -- the wind of greed and corruption, and even as we reap the whirlwind of social and economic disruption, we seek forgiveness and we come in a spirit of unity and solidarity to commit our support to our president by our willingness to make sacrifices, to respect your creation, to turn to each other and not on each other.
And now, Lord, in the complex arena of human relations, help us to make choices on the side of love, not hate; on the side of inclusion, not exclusion; tolerance, not intolerance.
And as we leave this mountaintop, help us to hold on to the spirit of fellowship and the oneness of our family. Let us take that power back to our homes, our workplaces, our churches, our temples, our mosques, or wherever we seek your will.
Bless President Barack, First Lady Michelle. Look over our little, angelic Sasha and Malia.
We go now to walk together, children, pledging that we won't get weary in the difficult days ahead. We know you will not leave us alone, with your hands of power and your heart of love.
Help us then, now, Lord, to work for that day when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, when tanks will be beaten into tractors, when every man and every woman shall sit under his or her own vine and fig tree, and none shall be afraid; when justice will roll down like waters and righteousness as a mighty stream.
Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around -- (laughter) -- when yellow will be mellow -- (laughter) -- when the red man can get ahead, man -- (laughter) -- and when white will embrace what is right.
Let all those who do justice and love mercy say amen.
AUDIENCE: Amen!
REV. LOWERY: Say amen --
AUDIENCE: Amen!
REV. LOWERY: -- and amen.
AUDIENCE: Amen! (Cheers, applause.)
END.
The inauguration prayer of V. Gene Robinson
O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…
Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.
Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic "answers" we've
preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.
Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us
will be "fixed" anytime soon, and the understanding that our new
president is a human being, not a messiah.
Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.
Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.
Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every
religion's God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.
And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.
Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln's
reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy's ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King's dream of a nation for ALL the people.
Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm
aptain in these times.
Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.
Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.
Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.
Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters' childhoods.
And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our
presidents, and we're asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.
AMEN."
Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.
Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic "answers" we've
preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.
Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us
will be "fixed" anytime soon, and the understanding that our new
president is a human being, not a messiah.
Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.
Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.
Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every
religion's God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.
And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.
Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln's
reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy's ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King's dream of a nation for ALL the people.
Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm
aptain in these times.
Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.
Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.
Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.
Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters' childhoods.
And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our
presidents, and we're asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.
AMEN."
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
HAIL TO THE CHIEF
YES WE DID! There isn't much that will get me out of bed before 8:00 a.m. but there I was by 8:30, transfixed in front of the television along with millions of others in this country and abroad, watching Barack Hussein Obama take the oath of office as the 44th President of the United States of America (I often cringe at the bare term, United States, as Mexico is officially the United States of Mexico - how many can you name?)
There haven't been many times in my life when I've been proud to be an American, but today was one. Everywhere I went I found people excited by today's events - from the desk attendant at the rehab pool I go to, who greeted me with a "YES WE DID! to a young man from my church who said at last he feels safe. And isn't it a nice twist of irony that the leader of the party that is now in power invoked many of the things we traditionally associate with the other party: a strong defense, fiscal soundness and the red white and blue, The outgoing president was today stripped of its failed portfolio by a man of Kenya and Kansas, Hawaii and Indonesia, whose middle name is Hussein, and who embodies in his person the American dream. YES WE CAN - and YES WE DID!
I must add that I am already weary of the comparisons of Obama to Martin Luther King, Jr. and Abraham Lincoln. He is neither. He is his own man and it is unfair to lay upon him a mantle only history can bestow. As the Rev. V. Gene Robinson, the openly gay Episcopal bishiop from New Hampshire said at one of the prayer services, we need to remember that Obama is a human being and not expect him to be superhuman. I am also loathe to mention the fate that befell both Lincoln and King, and we - and the Secret Service and law enforcement officers - must do everything in our power to prevent any harm coming to this promising young man and I invite you to pray with me that God will protect him and his family for many years to come. Frankly, Obama makes me think more of another American martyr, JFK because of his youth, his enthisiasm, his liberal values, and his powerful rhetoric, not to mention his children running around the White House. There was plenty of skepticism - and prejudice in 1961 about electing a Catholic as President, but he proved his detractors wrong, just as I am confident Obama will do in 2009 and beyond.
I enjoy the pomp and pageantry that surround an event such as today's. Some of the highlights for me were the beautiful Capitol building festooned in red, white and blue, the poise of California Senator Dianne Feinstein at the microphone, and Aretha Franklin in her beautiful hat singing My Country, 'Tis of Thee. I also deeply appreciated Colin Powell's words to George Stephanopoulis that "Now we have a President who is qualified and competent (read, dig at Bush), who happens to be African American." Yes indeed. I hope we won't make as much of the color of his skin as the conent of his character.
So here's to the forty-fourth President of the United States of America. God bless Barack Obama, and God bless America!
There haven't been many times in my life when I've been proud to be an American, but today was one. Everywhere I went I found people excited by today's events - from the desk attendant at the rehab pool I go to, who greeted me with a "YES WE DID! to a young man from my church who said at last he feels safe. And isn't it a nice twist of irony that the leader of the party that is now in power invoked many of the things we traditionally associate with the other party: a strong defense, fiscal soundness and the red white and blue, The outgoing president was today stripped of its failed portfolio by a man of Kenya and Kansas, Hawaii and Indonesia, whose middle name is Hussein, and who embodies in his person the American dream. YES WE CAN - and YES WE DID!
I must add that I am already weary of the comparisons of Obama to Martin Luther King, Jr. and Abraham Lincoln. He is neither. He is his own man and it is unfair to lay upon him a mantle only history can bestow. As the Rev. V. Gene Robinson, the openly gay Episcopal bishiop from New Hampshire said at one of the prayer services, we need to remember that Obama is a human being and not expect him to be superhuman. I am also loathe to mention the fate that befell both Lincoln and King, and we - and the Secret Service and law enforcement officers - must do everything in our power to prevent any harm coming to this promising young man and I invite you to pray with me that God will protect him and his family for many years to come. Frankly, Obama makes me think more of another American martyr, JFK because of his youth, his enthisiasm, his liberal values, and his powerful rhetoric, not to mention his children running around the White House. There was plenty of skepticism - and prejudice in 1961 about electing a Catholic as President, but he proved his detractors wrong, just as I am confident Obama will do in 2009 and beyond.
I enjoy the pomp and pageantry that surround an event such as today's. Some of the highlights for me were the beautiful Capitol building festooned in red, white and blue, the poise of California Senator Dianne Feinstein at the microphone, and Aretha Franklin in her beautiful hat singing My Country, 'Tis of Thee. I also deeply appreciated Colin Powell's words to George Stephanopoulis that "Now we have a President who is qualified and competent (read, dig at Bush), who happens to be African American." Yes indeed. I hope we won't make as much of the color of his skin as the conent of his character.
So here's to the forty-fourth President of the United States of America. God bless Barack Obama, and God bless America!
Friday, January 16, 2009
An Open Letter from Barack Obama to his daughters
'What I Want for You — and Every Child
in America' By President-elect Barack Obama
Parade Magazine: Publication Date: 01/14/2009
Dear Malia and Sasha,
I know that you've both had a lot of fun these last two years on the campaign trail, going to picnics and parades and state fairs, eating all sorts of junk food your mother and I probably shouldn't have let you have. But I also know that it hasn't always been easy for you and Mom, and that as excited as you both are about that new puppy, it doesn't make up for all the time we've been apart. I know how much I've missed these past two years, and today I want to tell you a little more about why I decided to take our family on this journey.
When I was a young man, I thought life was all about me-about how I'd make my way in the world, become successful, and get the things I want. But then the two of you came into my world with all your curiosity and mischief and those smiles that never fail to fill my heart and light up my day. And suddenly, all my big plans for myself didn't seem so important anymore. I soon found that the greatest joy in my life was the joy I saw in yours. And I realized that my own life wouldn't count for much unless I was able to ensure that you had every opportunity for happiness and fulfillment in yours. In the end, girls, that's why I ran for President: because of what I want for you and for every child in this nation.
I want all our children to go to schools worthy of their potential-schools that challenge them, inspire them, and instill in them a sense of wonder about the world around them. I want them to have the chance to go to college-even if their parents aren't rich. And I want them to get good jobs: jobs that pay well and give them benefits like health care, jobs that let them spend time with their own kids and retire with dignity.
I want us to push the boundaries of discovery so that you'll live to see new technologies and inventions that improve our lives and make our planet cleaner and safer. And I want us to push our own human boundaries to reach beyond the divides of race and region, gender and religion that keep us from seeing the best in each other.
Sometimes we have to send our young men and women into war and other dangerous situations to protect our country-but when we do, I want to make sure that it is only for a very good reason, that we try our best to settle our differences with others peacefully, and that we do everything possible to keep our servicemen and women safe. And I want every child to understand that the blessings these brave Americans fight for are not free-that with the great privilege of being a citizen of this nation comes great responsibility.
That was the lesson your grandmother tried to teach me when I was your age, reading me the opening lines of the Declaration of Independence nd telling me about the men and women who marched for equality bcause they believed those words put to paper two centuries ago should mean something.
She helped me understand that America is great not because it is perfect but because it can always be made better-and that the unfinished work of perfecting our union falls to each of us. It's a charge we pass on to our children, coming closer with each new generation to what we know America should be.
I hope both of you will take up that work, righting the wrongs that you see and working to give others the chances you've had. Not just because you have an obligation to give something back to this country that has given our family so much-although you do have that obligation. But because you have an obligation to yourself. Because it is only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you will realize your true potential.
These are the things I want for you-to grow up in a world with no limits on your dreams and no achievements beyond your reach, and to grow into compassionate, committed women who will help build that world. And I want every child to have the same chances to learn and dream and grow and thrive that you girls have. That's why I've taken our family on this great adventure.
I am so proud of both of you. I love you more than you can ever know. And I am grateful every day for your patience, poise, grace, and humor as we prepare to start our new life together in the White House.
Love, Dad
in America' By President-elect Barack Obama
Parade Magazine: Publication Date: 01/14/2009
Dear Malia and Sasha,
I know that you've both had a lot of fun these last two years on the campaign trail, going to picnics and parades and state fairs, eating all sorts of junk food your mother and I probably shouldn't have let you have. But I also know that it hasn't always been easy for you and Mom, and that as excited as you both are about that new puppy, it doesn't make up for all the time we've been apart. I know how much I've missed these past two years, and today I want to tell you a little more about why I decided to take our family on this journey.
When I was a young man, I thought life was all about me-about how I'd make my way in the world, become successful, and get the things I want. But then the two of you came into my world with all your curiosity and mischief and those smiles that never fail to fill my heart and light up my day. And suddenly, all my big plans for myself didn't seem so important anymore. I soon found that the greatest joy in my life was the joy I saw in yours. And I realized that my own life wouldn't count for much unless I was able to ensure that you had every opportunity for happiness and fulfillment in yours. In the end, girls, that's why I ran for President: because of what I want for you and for every child in this nation.
I want all our children to go to schools worthy of their potential-schools that challenge them, inspire them, and instill in them a sense of wonder about the world around them. I want them to have the chance to go to college-even if their parents aren't rich. And I want them to get good jobs: jobs that pay well and give them benefits like health care, jobs that let them spend time with their own kids and retire with dignity.
I want us to push the boundaries of discovery so that you'll live to see new technologies and inventions that improve our lives and make our planet cleaner and safer. And I want us to push our own human boundaries to reach beyond the divides of race and region, gender and religion that keep us from seeing the best in each other.
Sometimes we have to send our young men and women into war and other dangerous situations to protect our country-but when we do, I want to make sure that it is only for a very good reason, that we try our best to settle our differences with others peacefully, and that we do everything possible to keep our servicemen and women safe. And I want every child to understand that the blessings these brave Americans fight for are not free-that with the great privilege of being a citizen of this nation comes great responsibility.
That was the lesson your grandmother tried to teach me when I was your age, reading me the opening lines of the Declaration of Independence nd telling me about the men and women who marched for equality bcause they believed those words put to paper two centuries ago should mean something.
She helped me understand that America is great not because it is perfect but because it can always be made better-and that the unfinished work of perfecting our union falls to each of us. It's a charge we pass on to our children, coming closer with each new generation to what we know America should be.
I hope both of you will take up that work, righting the wrongs that you see and working to give others the chances you've had. Not just because you have an obligation to give something back to this country that has given our family so much-although you do have that obligation. But because you have an obligation to yourself. Because it is only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you will realize your true potential.
These are the things I want for you-to grow up in a world with no limits on your dreams and no achievements beyond your reach, and to grow into compassionate, committed women who will help build that world. And I want every child to have the same chances to learn and dream and grow and thrive that you girls have. That's why I've taken our family on this great adventure.
I am so proud of both of you. I love you more than you can ever know. And I am grateful every day for your patience, poise, grace, and humor as we prepare to start our new life together in the White House.
Love, Dad
Friday, January 9, 2009
POLICE SHOOTING SPARKS PROTESTS
Well, it happened again - a white police officer shoots a black man which provokes a storm of protest from the community. In this case the community is Oakland, California, across the San Francisco Bay from where I live. And the police officer was employed by BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit). But the incident is particularly awful in that the man was shot in the back while in police custody and lying on his face on the concrete subway platform where he was apprehended for creating a disturbance on New Year's day. The man, Oscar Grant, was pronounced dead at a local hospital a few hours later. He was unarmed. The police officer has not been charged with any crime and now cannot be questioned or disciplined by the BART administration because he resigned abruptly while still in hidng. Oakland, a city adjacent to Berkeley, home of the Universityy of fCalifornia, has a diverse but heavily black population. The mayor, Ron Dellums is black. The chair of the BART supervisors is black. Both have gone on record acknowledging the tragic shooting. Both have asked the community to remain calm so they can restore order in the wake of protests that became violent at times and resulted in 100 people being injured and 300 businesses damaged. One resident said in exasperation, "This is like 1964 in the South all over again."
http://www.comcast.net/articles/news-national/20090109/Train.Station.Shooting/
http://www.comcast.net/articles/news-national/20090109/Train.Station.Shooting/
Sunday, January 4, 2009
DOUBT
I saw the movie "Doubt" tonight and I am certain only of this: Meryl Streep is still an outstanding actress!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
