The Easy Way of Being a Prophet

Last Sunday the Gospel lesson was the end of the story of John the Baptist- where he lost his head to the whims of the king. The Hebrew Bible lesson was from Amos who got into trouble for speaking the truth to power- the King. They fit right in with my sermon two weeks ago on Jan Hus and his martyr's death at the instigation of the Pope and the church powers in 1415.

THAT'S not an easy way to be a prophet. What is the easier, softer way?

The pastor then talked about a recent experience he had at national convention where he and 1,200 others did a march against gun violence while carrying signs that said, "Black Lives Matter." It was a very moving spiritual experience for him, as I am sure it would have been. We had done a simple march in Miami 20 years ago as part of a world mission conference. All we did was walk as a witness to our faith. That was amazing. This was standing up to power and pointing out one of the deep divides and cardinal sins of our culture that no one wants to talk about.

The pastor then commented

It's easy being a prophet when you are with 1200 other people.

Yep. A lot of truth in that. It is easy when we can get lost in the crowd. When all of you are chanting the same, protesting the same, but just face the reality and, well, things can get a little more difficult.

I discovered that back in the early 70s in the midst of the Vietnam War protests. I had gone down to Washington to participate in the May Day protests. I had been there a week earlier with the big protests. It was fun and an anti-war carnival. Many people came back a week later with the expressed purpose of shutting down Washington in acts of civil disobedience. We arrived on Saturday, May 1 and camped out in West Potomac Park near the Washington Monument. It was a picnic-rock fest with people hanging-out and listening to the music. There were about 35,000 people there.

I fell asleep that night, though fitfully, aware that civil disobedience could get one arrested.

I awoke on Sunday morning and looked out the tent flap. As I remember it now it was the sight of riot troops (we'd call them SWAT teams now) lining the streets around the park. It seemed like an endless number of them. The Nixon administration had cancelled the park permit. They were urging us to leave. Later in the morning the troops started to move across the camping area, tearing tents down, using tear gas to disperse the crowds.

I never saw that part. I gathered my stuff and, along with about 25,000 others, left D.C. heading back home.

Sometimes it isn't even easy being a prophet when there are 35,000 of you- and 10,000 of them with guns.

Or you are standing on a Memphis motel porch, there's one lone gunman across the street and your name is Martin Luther King, Jr.; or Robert Kennedy, surrounded by supporters as Sirhan Sirhan pulls the trigger; or Mahatma Gandhi about to enter a prayer meeting as a gunman came up to him and fired three times.

 It appears that it is never easy being a prophet when you have to stand up to the ways of the world that lead to death, destruction, hate, and fear.

I give thanks for those who are willing to take that prophetic stand of speaking out, of challenging those who would use their power to oppress those already under oppression; those who would conspire to take dignity and hope, health and support from others who are different; those who would use their religion and their patriotism to denigrate others and turn them into non-persons.

I know that I am a weak prophet. I want people to like me- and I certainly don't want to be tear-gassed or have my head beaten by a billy-club. But I also know that I have to find ways to stand up for what I believe to be right.

The easy way of being a prophet is to stay at home and not speak out. Because one is no longer a prophet. Maybe I need to find more people who are willing to do it with me.

An Invasive Species

Such beauty as they grow along the side of paths and the edges of fields.

They add such color, standing out against the green and reflecting the bright sun.

So I posted some pictures I took on Facebook. I thought they were phlox.

Nope.

It's Dames Rocket.. and we don't need its colors.

A friend caught the pictures and added a link from the UW-Extension that cleared things up.

You have probably noticed dame’s rocket beautiful blooms, but did you know that this beautiful plant is also invasive? Dame’s rocket was introduced to North America in the 1600’s. It is often found in moist, wooded areas, but has the ability to also invade open areas. The plant’s three-month-long blooming period and ability to set abundant seed have contributed to its spread.

Dame’s rocket is often confused with garden phlox (Phlox paniculata), because the flower colors, clustered blooms and bloom time are similar.

Well, at least I'm not alone in my mistake. But it did get me thinking about the issue. Such "invasive species" can be- and often are- beautiful. Like I noticed as I drove around town the day I took the pictures, they seem to be a "value-add" to the scenery. But they have difficulty maintaining appropriate boundaries. They take over. They even change the ecology by pushing away native life.

That got me to thinking, so I looked up a definition:

Invasive Species:
--a plant or animal that is not native to a specific location (an introduced species); and has a tendency to spread, which is believed to cause damage to the environment, human economy and/or human health.

Yep. It made sense- in some ways that are not comfortable.

Is it possible that the most "invasive species" on the planet is us? Homo sapiens sapiens? Just our very expansion and obliteration of eco-systems, polluting water and air thus damaging even our own health would certainly fit the definition.

I know there are those who can quote the charge to Adam and Eve to have dominion over the earth and subdue it, but until the last 150 years that could not mean destruction of the very place we are living. Then, when we do cause severe damage to the ecology, say through climate change, we blame it on the earth itself.

And that is not even using the examples of Europeans devastating the native human life of the Americas or enslaving other humans.It doesn't begin to describe the impact of war or the insatiable drive to expand territory.

Yes, we can be beautiful and creative, strong and hopeful, but those Dames Rockets along the roads and paths are also beautiful. But what have they already replaced?

Have we humans become an out-of-control species, a curse on the very planet we exist on? Are we truly the most destructive invasive species around?

If so, the very thing that has made us so hellishly powerful may also be what can turn things around. We have self-awareness, intelligence and the ability to think. Cognitive awareness may give us the chance to work on these problems and call the behaviors into question.

We can only hope it happens in time.

The Human Mix

There's always a new way to understand who we are as human beings. Lemony Snicket gives us this one...

People aren't either wicked or noble. They're like chef's salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict.
― Lemony Snicket, The Grim Grotto

The Scandals Never End

While this one doesn't rank up there with Jerry Sandusky or General Petraeus, it is just as sad and devastating. The headline yesterday:

'Sesame Street' actor faces underage sex charges

Not just any Sesame Street actor, but Kevin Clash- Elmo! As a result Clash has been put on leave.

Clash himself has issued a statement that he is a gay man and that he and the accuser did have a relationship, but that it was after the accuser was an adult.

[Note: I recently saw the documentary about Kevin Clash, Being Elmo. 

I highly recommend it and will add pathos to the current story.]

Who know what the real story is. All we know is that we keep discovering that our heroes have clay feet.

And we consistently act surprised.

Maybe we keep hoping beyond hope that someone will remain pure and spotless. Maybe one of our heroes will remain so. Some we feel good when they fall. Others we feel sadness. No matter what, we feel betrayed.

Hmmm. Makes me wonder how others close to me feel when I fail? Makes me wonder if I have done enough inner soul searching to be humble enough to ask my higher power to remove my shortcomings?

My Creator,

I am now willing that you should have all of me,

good and bad.

I pray that you now remove from me

every single defect of character which stands in the way

of my usefulness to you and my fellows.

Grant me strength, as I go out from here,

to do your bidding.

Amen

-p. 76, Alcoholics Anonymous

No One is Perfect

We all know that no one is perfect, even though we may at times want to defend our heroes from their frailties. Many times I have a hunch that we- and our heroes- end up working out our frailties - our salvation- in fear and trembling.

I thought of the other week when the artist Thomas Kinkade died. (Wiki) I never knew much about him other than his paintings that always seemed to me to be a little too schmaltzy, over-the-top with his images of light. When he died I read some of the articles and found that there were stories of a darker side to Kinkade. Stories of drunken behavior, possible sexual harassment, crude actions and language. This from the "Painter of Light"?

Sure. Why not? Then it struck me that perhaps that painting style, the over-the-top desire to present the presence of light so strongly in his work was an attempt to work out his own salvation in fear and trembling. There in his paintings may very well be the attempts at his own exorcisms, the desire to bring light into his darkness and in that work allow the light to overcome the darkness.

No, I don't mean in some way that he was trying to earn his salvation. I mean it as an act of pilgrimage or penitence or personal reflection. As he painted, I wondered, did he try to absorb that light to overcome his own demons? Did he seek to connect more fully with his God as he placed the light into those scenes? Did he see the light seeping in through the cracks in his own soul?

It made me think of Mother Theresa, as well. (Wiki) On the Wikipedia page for her:

Privately, Mother Teresa experienced doubts and struggles over her religious beliefs which lasted nearly 50 years until the end of her life, during which "she felt no presence of God whatsoever", "neither in her heart or in the eucharist" as put by her postulator Rev. Brian Kolodiejchuk. Mother Teresa expressed grave doubts about God's existence and pain over her lack of faith... [He] indicated there was a risk that some might misinterpret her meaning, but her faith that God was working through her remained undiminished, and that while she pined for the lost sentiment of closeness with God, she did not question his existence.

Actually, I think many of us do that. It may be our way to find meaning, to journey through the darkness toward a light that calls us in the deepest portions of our soul. I don't think that diminishes the work of Mother Theresa nor does it call into question the faith and spirit that Kinkade wanted people to see. Rather it all reminds us that we are all earthen vessels, weak and powerless human beings who are prone to mess up as much as we build up.

Thanks be to God for His grace!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

UPDATE: I originally wrote this just after Easter but pushed the posting date out to today. I expected something to come out by today that would confirm my suspicions.  Well, such information did come out on Friday. The LA Times reported:

Artist Thomas Kinkade had been battling alcoholism for years and apparently suffered a relapse just prior to his unexpected death last week.

On April 6, the dispatcher who sent a fire truck to Kinkade's home reported a “54-year-old male unconscious, not breathing," according to a recording on FireScan.net.

"Apparently he's been drinking all night and not moving," the dispatcher said after Kinkade's live-in girlfriend called 911. He was pronounced dead at his home.

The painter's official cause of death will be determined by the Santa Clara County Coroner’s office, whose autopsy results are still pending.
--Link

Due to my particular profession, experiences, and history, I silently assumed we would discover addiction/alcoholism. No I am not clairvoyant. I just adhere to the words of a Episcopal priest friend many years ago:

Every time someone walks into my office with problems I assume alcoholism until proven otherwise.

And then I continue to suspect it.

More to come at some future date.

We Destructive Humans

Live Science yesterday had a post titled: Understanding the 10 Most Destructive Human Behaviors. While not an in-depth look at them, it is interesting to see what we do to ourselves as a species. As the article points out:

Compared with most animals, we humans engage in a host of behaviors that are destructive to our own kind and to ourselves. We lie, cheat and steal, carve ornamentations into our own bodies, stress out and kill ourselves, and of course kill others. Science has provided much insight into why an intelligent species seems so nasty, spiteful, self-destructive and hurtful.

So sad, but so true. The behaviors range from gossip to stressing out to bullying to clinging to bad habits to craving violence. It includes the ancient but oh so postModern trend of tattoos.

Take for example the understanding of why we cling to bad habits:

-- Innate human defiance

-- Need for social acceptance

-- Inability to truly understand the nature of risk

-- Individualistic view of the world and the ability to rationalize unhealthy habits

-- Genetic predisposition to addiction

People tend to justify bad habits, she says, by noting exceptions to known statistics, such as: "It hasn't hurt me yet," or, "My grandmother smoked all her life and lived to be 90."

Sure sounds familiar to this addictions counselor. But there is also this about tattoos (actually all cosmetic procedures including nip and tuck. Didn't see that as part of the same thing until I read this):

Perhaps the strongest motivations nowadays are to be beautiful, however one might define that, or simply to fit in with a particular group.

Oh, so simple. No wonder we miss it. But for me this one is the most telling in human history- craving violence:

Many researchers believe violence in humans is an evolved tendency that helped with survival.

"Aggressive behavior has evolved in species in which it increases an individual's survival or reproduction, and this depends on the specific environmental, social, reproductive, and historical circumstances of a species. Humans certainly rank among the most violent of species," says biologist David Carrier of the University of Utah.

Hurting ourselves or hurting others seems to be something we humans will find it difficult to stop doing. Whether it be politics, war, or self-change we can be a strange breed indeed.

Humbling

I have been dealing with a pain in the tooth for a week now. It started with pain about 2 weeks ago. I soon realized it was not sinus problems as it had the old hot and cold sensitivity. So I went to the dentist- and yes it was a root canal. Nothing new in that. I have had a number of those.

Well, the pain didn't entirely go away after stage one. Not a surprise I am told. The infection and pressure from the dying tooth will linger. Inflammation, etc. Yesterday I went back for the second stage of the procedure. And left hurting again. I shouldn't be surprised. I have a history of seldom having tooth problems solved in easy ways. I won't go into the history but usually if something will make a dental procedure act up, it will happen to me.

So in the middle of the night, actually about 4:00 this morning I was awakened by intense pain. I got up and took some ibuprofen and settled in on the couch since I could snuggle into the corner sitting up and not have to lie on the tooth-side. Now there's nothing particularly humbling in this, of course, other than to be reminded that I am not invincible and can have pain, etc.

The humbling part came this morning when my wife (of many years!) got up and asked what time I had gone out to the living room. I then find out that she woke up about half an hour after I did, got up, walked into the kitchen, turned out the light, and went back to bed.

And neither noticed I was gone or that I was sitting in the living room not 5 feet from where she turned off the light.

So it goes.

Gaining Insight

I know that over the years folk singer and activist Pete Seeger has been criticized for his seemingly uncritical support of the then Soviet Union. He was roundly chastised for never speaking out against the excesses and then torture and atrocities of the Staling regime. As an old-guard leftist Seeger came in for many challenges.

Ron Radosh, in a special to the New York Sun, mentioned that he had recently called Seeger to task after a documentary on his life. He said at the time that while Seeger had written many laudable songs on social issues, even in other countries, he never wrote one about the Gulags and the death lists of Stalin. Recently, then he received a letter from Seeger. Radosh then wrote:

I almost fell off the chair when I read Mr. Seeger's words: "I think you're right - I should have asked to see the gulags when I was in [the] USSR." For years, Mr. Seeger continued, he had been trying to get people to realize that any social change had to be nonviolent, in the fashion sought by Martin Luther King Jr. Mr. Seeger had hoped, he explained, that both Khrushchev and later Gorbachev would "open things up." He acknowledged that he underestimated, and perhaps still does, "how the majority of the human race has faith in violence."
--New York Sun

I applaud Seeger for his words- and Radosh for the willingness to post what Seeger said in his own column. Both have showed in this a willingness to talk that is often lost in too much political rhetoric. I for one am glad that Seeger can say these things now. Pete is one of my heroes. He has been a tireless advocate for what he saw as right and true and needed for a better world. I have often disagreed with his extreme leftist, even communist stance and support of the Soviet state's dictatorship. But I have seen him stand up in music and life to do what is right. (Plus I like his music!)

But the last quote in the article amazes me- and perhaps gives a clue into why Seeger continues to work as he does. He has "underestimated how the majority of the human race has faith in violence." As a Christian pacifist myself I find that remarkable. I have seen over and over in my life the devastating truth of what Pete underestimates. Perhaps it is a hopefulness built on his own desire to make the human experience less warlike. But it surely does ignore- or play down- the depths of the human soul from which violence can spring.

Whether you believe that the Genesis stories are exact accounts of actual events or "creation stories" explaining the events that all can see, it is not a surprise that Cain and Abel, the world that brought about Noah's Ark, or the impetus for the Tower of Babel make up most of the first 11 chapters. It is the deepest sadness of the human story writ large- jealousy, hatred, greed, death. We are not immune.

As Stanley Hauerwas once said in a slightly different form, I am a pacifist so I can be reminded of what I should do when I am tempted to do the opposite. I don't know whether Pete Seeger has learned the profound potential for violence behind human nature, but I applaud that he has made some statements that challenge his own past support of such violence, if only by his silence.

One of the most dangerous things about our human political, philosophical and religious approaches is that we so easily adopt blind acceptance of things that may or may not be as true as we think they are. What Seeger fell into with the Soviet Union we may just as easily fall into with our American nationalism or Christian triumphalism or atheistic "superiority feelings." Any completely blind acceptance of a human interpretation of such things can easily lead us into places we better not go.

Doubt and honest reflection and critical thinking and analysis are requirements for our world to survive. Perhaps, with each such step of honest reflection, any of us can move to a closer walk with what is truly beyond us but which we can move closer to in honesty.

I Thought WE Had the Brains

I was watching Nature on PBS the other evening. It was a show about Death Valley in all its extreme glory and danger. Tiny fish who have adapted to live in highly saline water- when it is available. Lizards that can tell the difference in water content in different plants. Adapt or die to this extreme- very extreme- environment.

But then there's humanity- the crown of creation. This is the animal with the amazing pre-frontal cortex that makes decisions, weighs choices- and even goes against all logic and intuition and even biological need. They told of a man who tried to walk across it but died- mummified and not even attacked by any predator- within a mile of his car where the water was.

They showed people running in a race across death valley followed by an entourage of other people spraying them with water. They run through this extreme land to win a race. One of the people they talked to had already won the race twice. Wouldn't once be enough?

I kept asking, Why? Why would anyone even want to do this? And I kept getting no real answer. It is truly amazing that people would choose, willingly, with their logical, thinking, advanced human brain to do such things. Just to prove they can do it. They must live with a sense of immortality. Nothing can happen to them. They must live with a need to prove themselves over and over and over. They must always be on the lookout for the exciting that moves beyond the mundane.

The lizards and birds and snakes and fish hide in the ground or the shade. They have one instinct- survival. It makes you wonder why we have lost some of that instinct. It may be the trade-off with the ability to think and make our own free-will decisions. I am sure that most of us have moved away from the best decisions to the dangerous ones many, many times. In the end it may be what truly does separate us from the other animals. We can overcome instinct and common sense to find a good time or to stretch ourselves to new limits.