Here it is … the end of the day.
I thought I had nothing. Several bloggers I know had made me aware of this event and I’ve been thinking about it, but nothing came to mind. And … I’ve been busier than a blue bottle fly as my grammy used to say. So it just wasn’t happenin’ … no big deal. I could let it pass without participating. I’ve done that before.
But then I read two things. This fact over at pinkhairedgirl.net:
“Americans spend 450 Billion dollars a year in Christmas. It is estimated that it would cost 10 billion dollars to SOLVE the clean water shortage around the planet that causes a majority of diseases in the third world.” and Crystal credits Troy Kennedy, who in turn quotes The Advent Conspiracy for the source of that information.
A short time later I read an article in the BBC that today is also World Handwashing Day sponsored by the United Nations.
The UN says it wants to get over the message that this simple routine is one of the most effective ways of preventing killer diseases. Nearly half the world’s population do not have access to adequate sanitation.
The UN says it wants to get over the message that this simple routine is one of the most effective ways of preventing killer diseases.
Nearly half the world’s population do not have access to adequate sanitation.
The main concern seems to be cleaning one’s hands after using the bathroom and before food preparation and consumption. That’s reasonable. And it’s what we teach our children, for good reason.
It seems like a great idea. But then I remember these stories from Jimmy Carter’s latest book (these quotes come from pages at the Carter Center website):
Onchocerciasis, also known as river blindness, is a disease affecting 18 million people in 37 countries worldwide. River blindness is transmitted by black flies, which deposit the larvae of the Onchocerca volvulus worm into the body. Over the course of a year, these larvae mature within the human host at which point the adult worms mate and the female worms release their embryonic microfilariae. These microfilariae cause debilitating itching and inflammation, and may eventually infiltrate the eye where they cause damage and diminished eyesight. If left untreated, the infected person can become permanently blind.
The ancient Guinea worm parasite, while not usually fatal to its human hosts, can grow up to three feet long inside the body before emerging slowly through a blister on the flesh. The disease is contracted by drinking water that contains the microscopic Cyclops flea, which eats and carries parasitic Guinea worm larvae. In the host’s stomach, the flea is broken down, leaving the male and female worm larvae free to cruise undetected through the body until they find one another and mate. The male dies, while the impregnated female grows not fat but long before emerging blindly into the African sunshine some nine months to a year later, typically on the lower limbs. The emergence of “the fiery serpent” causes a painful burning sensation, often sending victims to the nearest water source to soak the sore, which begins the cycle anew: when it hits the water, the worm releases thousands of new larvae.
I read that book a couple of years ago and the mental visages stuck with me. It seemed as though washing one’s hands in water that might be infested like this would be spitting into the wind. We think of washing our hands and the picture we get is of running water, clean sinks, drains and a clean town with which to dry our hands when we’re done. But what if we only have pest infested water, or fetid rain water caught in a rusty barrel sitting around brooding mosquitos to wash our hands in? Or to drink?
The numbers are huge and staggering. So big that we cannot comprehend them. The numbers of people dying, living blind, living poor, living hungry. The amount of money it would take to change that is huge too.
It would take 2% of a Christmas.
About 1% of a financial crisis.
Would we wipe out poverty? No. But at least people would have clean water. Then maybe they could start taking care of the rest of it themselves. What if we put something besides small change aside?
But those numbers, those numbers are so damn big. I can’t get my head around them. There’s not a collection plate in the world that’s big enough. Everyone is working on it, talking about it, moaning about it. But at heart, we’re all still essentially selfish. We don’t want to give up our Christmases and our Wall Streets.
Until that changes, nothing else really will.
So, like many US-ians I’ve been following the market and the hoopla surrounding what is being called the financial crisis and bailout.
The President is calling for a lot of money to be earmarked to spend on companies which made risky bad financial decisions. Otherwise, so the thinking goes, our market will crash. Our credit will be bad. All sorts of horrible things will happen. There are, apparently, monsters in our national closet just waiting to come out and eat us.
Well, there’s a part of me that’s feeling the crunch on behalf of my in-laws. That’s for sure. People who are depending on the stock market right now for their retirement income are bearing the brunt of this. People who are planning to retire in the next five years or so will also bear the brunt of this.
Here’s the thing though. Or perhaps it’s several things that I’ve been thinking about.
First is this. This crisis did not happen overnight. It has been slowly building over the course of about 30 years. It began during the Reagan administration and has been the result of successive Republican AND Democratic administrations AND Congresses turning a blind eye to the consequences of their economic policies. This is a bi-partisan issue. No party can point the finger at the other and say, “It’s all their fault.” Because both have done some good and a lot of bad.
For a crisis that’s been coming for so long, how is it that our government got caught with it’s pants down?
As a Christian, I do not look to a government, or a political party, or a president for redemption, perfection or utopia in this world. However, I am a citizen and so I am a bearer of the social contract that we all hold with our government here in the U.S. I believe that social contract gives me certain privileges and rights, but it also brings with it certain responsibilities. It also gives the government and it’s representatives certain rights and responsibilities. We tend to dicker amongst the left and right about what those rights and responsibilities should be. And how they should be meted out. But we don’t dicker about the necessity of having a government. We all tend to agree about that.
There’s been a lot of noise and heat generated lately about this crisis heralding another Great Depression. This feels like fear-mongering to me. And that makes me ashamed of my government and our leadership. Lord knows, I do not want another Great Depression, nor the panic or Dust Bowl that accompanied it. It was a terrible time for our country and the world. People struggled and died. But people also struggled and overcame. We forget that part of the story line. We came together as a nation during the Depression. We helped each other. Yes, FDR put into place some things that have frayed around the edges and are coming apart at the seams now, but at the time, they were a safety net. This allowed people to help themselves and each other. I think of our National Park System and our national highway system both built in part by the Civilian Conservation Corps. When people were out of work, Roosevelt created jobs for them.
Our current government though, is not living up to its part of our social contract. Regardless of which bits and pieces you feel the government should be providing (i.e. whether you’re a liberal or a conservative), our government in its current form is not looking out for the citizens, but is looking out for business entities alone. By rushing through this enormous financial bailout and forcing the citizenry to bear all the bad risk brought on by greedy decision-making on Wall Street, a Democratic Congress and Republican Administration are reneging on their end of the bargain. Congress (both House and Senate) should slow down, ask for hearings from professionals in every walk of economic life. A couple of weeks won’t hurt (as we’re seeing). There are more options for solving this problem than all or nothing as the politicians would like us to believe.
Some of those options might involve all of us planting gardens and growing our own vegetables (Victory Gardens). It might involve personal sacrifice on the part of the executives and executive boards of those fat cat companies; as it really should and as I seem to remember from my economics classes. It might involve real leadership from the top, real ideas, real negotiating, real compromise, real change. There are other options out there. And if we’re going to put that much money on the line, we all need the opportunity to step back, take a breath and decide if it really and truly is necessary. Or, are Adam Smith’s bones chattering in his grave about now? Because from what little I remember from my economics classes, this bailout/rescue seems to fly directly in the face of solid capitalist market theory.
I’m so angry right now I almost can’t sleep at night. It’s a boiling, gutteral fury. When I try to speak of it, I begin to sputter and use bad language because I don’t have enough words to express the utter depth of my rage.
My in-laws turned 70 this year. My mother will turn 70 early next year and my father is 75. My parents are extremely fortunate because a relative left them unexpectedly very well off about 14 years ago. However, my in-laws are not in that place.
My father-in-law worked hard all his life. He still works hard. He is 70 years old and with a bachelors degree in economics he works in a hardware store. This year they will not be taking their annual three month winter trip to Florida as they cannot afford it. Financially. Unfortunately, their children and children-in-laws are all holding their breath for the toll this will take on their health. They are good people who depend on the vagaries of the stock market for their fixed income retirement package. They are good people who were depending on the stability of real estate to sell their home of 35 years when they needed to to supplement their retirement income. Now they can do neither.
Remember when I said that the first national election I ever voted in, I voted for John Anderson? Well … I had turned nineteen that May and Ronald Reagan won that election for those of you who remember which race John Anderson ran in. So, for the entirety of my adult life, I have heard lessons on the economy from the conservative side of the street. In a nutshell, those lessons may be summed up by saying, “The market will correct itself, the government does not need to regulate it.” and “We’re not a socialist state, keep the government out of the market.” Don’t fool yourselves, Bill Clinton was no liberal when it came to economics. There was a very good reason why he kept Alan Greenspan in charge of the Federal Reserve for almost the entirety of his presidency. Clinton was a fiscal conservative and only barely a social liberal.
Yet, every time I turn around these same fiscal conservatives … these Republicans who hue and cry about the government staying out of the market … run to the government for a bailout when their greed fails them. When their pride, hubris, greed and foolishness fail and put all of us in jeopardy … they run to the government teat, just like a welfare mother in the projects. I am way past disgust. Just where exactly do they think that government money comes from? The trees? No … I have news for these financiers of great and immortal fame … it comes from me and you. We are now paying for their foolishness.
Those men of millions and billions, who ran their companies into the ground, ran to Uncle Sam for help cleaning up the mess, are now keeping the millions they gained personally and have the unmitigated gall to fight for their 60 and 70 million dollar severance packages. They are keeping their houses (multiples each), their personal jets, their yachts, their jewelry, their … whatever, whatever, whatever AND all their money AND we get to clean up the mess they made; AND we get to pay the court fees for the battle that they’ll stage to keep their severance packages.
The ugly thing about this is this is privatizing gains and socializing losses. So when things are going well, the managements make out, the shareholders make out, the counterparties are fine. All the private sector people do well. But when something goes wrong, when decisions are made that turn out to be bad decisions, the U.S. taxpayer has to take on the problem. And there’s something very wrong about that. Because all of those people that made all that money are running off here into the distance with the money, carrying it in their bags. And the United States taxpayer is on the hook. Gretchen Morgenson of the Times on Bill Moyers Journal Sept. 19
The ugly thing about this is this is privatizing gains and socializing losses. So when things are going well, the managements make out, the shareholders make out, the counterparties are fine. All the private sector people do well. But when something goes wrong, when decisions are made that turn out to be bad decisions, the U.S. taxpayer has to take on the problem.
And there’s something very wrong about that. Because all of those people that made all that money are running off here into the distance with the money, carrying it in their bags. And the United States taxpayer is on the hook. Gretchen Morgenson of the Times on Bill Moyers Journal Sept. 19
So … when does the market correct itself? I’m just curious.
I think these people need to help pay for the mistakes and help clean up the mess they’ve made … just like I do with my children. The only thing anyone “needs” is one house and one car. Strip them of everything else and use that money to begin the bailout … that’s market correction. Because I want someone, anyone, to help my in-laws out of this mess. They have lived life well, made responsible, wise, and even generous decisions … so why on earth should they and everyone else who have done likewise be made to clean up this mess?
After all, the only people who didn’t see this coming were those who don’t know their history. That would be … almost everyone.
“It is a poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish.” Mother Theresa
That’s a pretty well known and ubiquitous quote by Mother Theresa. It’s been co-opted by the folks who believe that life begins at conception and would like to pass laws to that effect in our country. I still remember the sense of shock I had the first time I saw it on a bumper.
I know people who’ve had abortions. Some are very close to me. Is that really what they’d done? I had to think it through. I knew their reasons very intimately. Most had gone on to have children later in adulthood. Having the child would have been disastrous for both child and mother at the time of the pregnancy. Some of the pregnancies were the result of rape, others the result of very protected intercourse but the protection simply failed. In every case, mothers (and fathers) go on to mourn the loss eternally. It is a drastic decision made during a time of crisis in a situation that is kept secret in most cases. Very few terminated pregnancies are made known before they are finished.
It seems to me that it’s become far too easy to make snap judgements, and reduce a nuanced topic, such as abortion, to a pithy sentence and slap it on a bumper sticker to make your sentiments known to everyone else. So I was wondering the other day, which was the real poverty? Who is impoverished? Where are we now that we have polarized ourselves into tidy camps. Right and left. Red and blue. Take it or leave it. For us; against them.
Then LightHusband sent me this story about a feral child discovered in Florida a few years ago. Beware if you read the whole story. It’s very graphic and full of lurid details about the filth the little girl lived in. Terrible really. It’s likely that her biological mother is ill and or at least terribly self-centered. Because of the neglect she suffered, this girl may never be able to talk or communicate on a meaningful level. Her brain may never develop past six or seven years old in terms of her ability to process information. No one really knows. There have only been two or three feral children in recorded history. One in France in the 1880’s and another in California in in the 1970’s that were reported in this news story.
Don’t for a moment make the leap that I am suggesting this child would have been better off aborted. Not at all. No, I am suggesting that we are all impoverished for not knowing. Not knowing our neighbors. Not loving our neighbor. When we do know, we do not take their hands and walk with them, we call CPS. We rely on the law to transform, rather than relationships. We want to make laws, call policemen, stand at an arm’s length away and point out the flaws in one another.
What struck me most about this story was the unknowing. The secrecy. The darkness. The lack of love. That is the nexus that this story has in common with mothers who face the choice to terminate a pregnancy. They make choices in secrecy, without the love and support of most of their network, in crisis; hard, difficult choices that hurt everyone including themselves.
The biological mother in the Florida case had been trying unsuccessfully to keep her family together. She failed catastrophically. When the little girl was found both mother and daughter were nearly in a catatonic state but with different origins. The mother was arrested and convicted for breaking various Florida laws concerning child welfare. She was given a suspended sentence with the proviso that she rescind her maternal rights. So the little girl has been adopted into a home with very caring parents, who are doing their best to help her develop on a more normal trajectory. In many respects the story has a happy ending. The little girl is learning, growing, loving and is loved. Her biological mother is alone. Alone with regrets, blame and an empty home. Many would say that she earned all of that and then some. Maybe my heart is too soft. But then I read Larry Vaughn and I wonder what might have been …
My theme becomes concrete: What would it be like to be known fully and loved completely? Most people know of this tension. Most adults, anyway. Fortunate children know what this is like. But because they don’t know anything different they take the situation for granted. Somewhere along the way to adulthood we start putting price tags on people and become capitalists of humanity. We also pick up a few undesirable qualities along the way.Another meteor. I am known and I am loved. But not completely. I think my brain would melt from sheer pleasure if the confluence of these two principles ever occurred. The air is brisk and I cannot hear another sound except for my breathing. Another meteor. And then I feel it. I am being watched. My anxiety rises. You have had this feeling before, haven’t you? Out of necessity I have become good at paying attention to my surroundings. It is a casualty of my profession. I look around expecting to see a deer or a raccoon. Maybe a person. Maybe (it’s 2:00am) the dead owner of the abandoned house. Nothing. Another meteor. My anxiety ebbs but the feeling of being watched doesn’t. I used to enjoy watching my girls play when they didn’t know I was there. Sometimes they would talk to their dolls or draw pictures or play house. Sometimes they would sing silly songs or have conversations with the air. I always felt a sense of magic when I could witness this play unnoticed. When they played without an audience I always got a sense of purity. Whatever they were doing or saying was complete truth. If you’re a parent you know exactly what I am talking about. Like the feeling of sneaking into the movies, I had a sense that I shouldn’t be here. I wasn’t invited to the tea party or the dance or the play. But as a parent, I couldn’t look away. This always, always made me smile. I tried so hard to be quiet. Partly because I didn’t want to interrupt the beauty. Partly because I didn’t want the tea party to end, which it surely would if my presence were made known. Another meteor. My feeling of being watched begins to transform. My mind begins to slow down and I stop thinking about thinking about thinking. I am quiet. And still. And small. Another meteor. Another tear of St. Lawrence. I am being watched. And the person watching is smiling. Hiding behind a cosmic door. Peeking around the corner. Another meteor. Another tear. I am not alone. Another tear. My brain begins to melt.
My theme becomes concrete: What would it be like to be known fully and loved completely? Most people know of this tension. Most adults, anyway. Fortunate children know what this is like. But because they don’t know anything different they take the situation for granted. Somewhere along the way to adulthood we start putting price tags on people and become capitalists of humanity. We also pick up a few undesirable qualities along the way.Another meteor.
I am known and I am loved. But not completely. I think my brain would melt from sheer pleasure if the confluence of these two principles ever occurred.
The air is brisk and I cannot hear another sound except for my breathing.
Another meteor.
And then I feel it. I am being watched. My anxiety rises. You have had this feeling before, haven’t you? Out of necessity I have become good at paying attention to my surroundings. It is a casualty of my profession.
I look around expecting to see a deer or a raccoon. Maybe a person. Maybe (it’s 2:00am) the dead owner of the abandoned house. Nothing.
My anxiety ebbs but the feeling of being watched doesn’t.
I used to enjoy watching my girls play when they didn’t know I was there. Sometimes they would talk to their dolls or draw pictures or play house. Sometimes they would sing silly songs or have conversations with the air. I always felt a sense of magic when I could witness this play unnoticed. When they played without an audience I always got a sense of purity. Whatever they were doing or saying was complete truth. If you’re a parent you know exactly what I am talking about. Like the feeling of sneaking into the movies, I had a sense that I shouldn’t be here. I wasn’t invited to the tea party or the dance or the play. But as a parent, I couldn’t look away. This always, always made me smile. I tried so hard to be quiet. Partly because I didn’t want to interrupt the beauty. Partly because I didn’t want the tea party to end, which it surely would if my presence were made known.
My feeling of being watched begins to transform. My mind begins to slow down and I stop thinking about thinking about thinking. I am quiet. And still. And small.
Another meteor. Another tear of St. Lawrence.
I am being watched. And the person watching is smiling. Hiding behind a cosmic door. Peeking around the corner.
Another meteor. Another tear.
I am not alone.
Another tear.
My brain begins to melt.
*****************************************************************************
This is a synchroblog on poverty. Please read what my fellow bloggers have to say on the subject below:
Won’t Get Fooled Again … The Who
first recorded 1971, the above was filmed in 1978, lyrics below:
We’ll be fighting in the streets With our children at our feet And the morals that they worship will be gone And the men who spurred us on Sit in judgment of all wrong They decide and the shotgun sings the song I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution Take a bow for the new revolution Smile and grin at the change all around Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday Then I’ll get on my knees and pray We don’t get fooled again The change, it had to come We knew it all along We were liberated from the fold, that’s all And the world looks just the same And history ain’t changed ‘Cause the banners, they were all flown in the last war I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution Take a bow for the new revolution Smile and grin at the change all around Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday Then I’ll get on my knees and pray We don’t get fooled again No, no! I’ll move myself and my family aside If we happen to be left half alive I’ll get all my papers and smile at the sky Though I know that the hypnotized never lie Do ya? Yeah! There’s nothing in the streets Looks any different to me And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye And the parting on the left Is now parting on the right And the beards have all grown longer overnight I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution Take a bow for the new revolution Smile and grin at the change all around Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday Then I’ll get on my knees and pray We don’t get fooled again Don’t get fooled again No, no! Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Meet the new boss Same as the old boss
We’ll be fighting in the streets With our children at our feet And the morals that they worship will be gone And the men who spurred us on Sit in judgment of all wrong They decide and the shotgun sings the song
I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution Take a bow for the new revolution Smile and grin at the change all around Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday Then I’ll get on my knees and pray We don’t get fooled again
The change, it had to come We knew it all along We were liberated from the fold, that’s all And the world looks just the same And history ain’t changed ‘Cause the banners, they were all flown in the last war
I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution Take a bow for the new revolution Smile and grin at the change all around Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday Then I’ll get on my knees and pray We don’t get fooled again No, no!
I’ll move myself and my family aside If we happen to be left half alive I’ll get all my papers and smile at the sky Though I know that the hypnotized never lie Do ya?
Yeah!
There’s nothing in the streets Looks any different to me And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye And the parting on the left Is now parting on the right And the beards have all grown longer overnight
I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution Take a bow for the new revolution Smile and grin at the change all around Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday Then I’ll get on my knees and pray We don’t get fooled again Don’t get fooled again No, no!
Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Meet the new boss Same as the old boss
Well, by now you’re thinking that the old girl’s finally done it … she’s gone completely off her rocker. Left her last marble far behind. What on earth does this classic rock song have to do with politics and God and the election of 2008? For me … everything. It’s the refrain echoing in the air, just out of hearing, every time I hear a person of faith speak about politics these days.
Here’s a short course in US politics. This country is not democracy. We have a republic. That is, we elect representatives to enact our (the people’s) will in terms of laws and spending. In a true democracy, we would all come together to do this ourselves. We would all vote directly on every single piece of legislation that Congress currently votes on. So we have what is known as representative government. See how easy that is? We speak through our representatives. At the federal level, this means our Congressional representatives (based on state population) and our Senators (2 from each state). The congressional representatives (legislative branch) are up for election every 2 years, the senators every six. In the mean time, we also elect a president (the executive branch of the government) every four years. Now, to complete the system of checks and balances, our Founders threw in the judicial branch of the government; the Supreme Court. The justices are appointed by a sitting president and serve for life and/or until retirement … whichever comes first. The Supreme Court oversees the laws enacted by the legislative and executive branches to ensure that those laws are within the scope of the Constitution. Likewise each of the other branches have veto power over the other two. No one branch of the government has enough power to run things on their own. All three must get along with each other in order for our government to continue functioning. They all three simultaneously hold a carrot and a stick for each other.
If you look around you, you will see a similar pattern echoed in your state and local governments as well. Three branches (executive, legislative and judicial) each simultaneously holding a carrot and a stick for the other two. They will have different names at different levels, but you look; they’re there. This is because our founding parents (don’t fool yourselves, the wives had a lot of influence on the men), were profoundly persuaded of the notion that humans need governance of themselves and of their worst inclinations in order to provide space and the ability to bring out their best inclinations. In other words, if one could curb the greed for power with a system of checks and balances it might be possible to allow the best side human nature to blossom.
So that’s the short course on political systems in our country. I hold a bachelor’s degree in political science and international studies and have been fascinated by study of politics from a young age. I’ve been intrigued by politics and movements the way some people watch soap operas. What will happen next and the speculation is a source of endless enchantment for me.
I’ve begun seeing posts here and there lately which encourage Christians especially those attempting to find a new way in the world to think about not voting in the coming election. This is cloaked in language which helps those people feel subversive, powerful in meekness, and even Biblical. Here’s the thing though … it’s none of those things. Not voting is losing your voice and it’s playing right into the hands of the empire. Here are my thoughts on why Christians should vote and vote carefully in each election.
My first thoughts are that all Christians need to take a course in critical thinking. This is critical. As an adult convert (at the age of 30) who went to a regular liberal arts college and learned the art of critical thinking and discourse, I have been regularly appalled at the lack of critical thinking that I see amongst the brethren and sistren. It is why so many are now so bitterly disillusioned with President Bush. Those of us who are critical thinkers saw him for who he was back in 1999; a charlatan. But most Christians only heard what they wanted to hear in 2000 and again in 2004. Having done that, and been so badly burned they seem unwilling to trust any politician again.
They need to listen for themselves and read for themselves what the candidates are saying. Do not rely on the media reports … do not rely on Fox News or CNN or anyone else. The internet is rife with the ability to get the speeches whole cloth. Do this for yourself. All you have to do is get one or two of the whole speeches and you will have enough to have the tenor of the candidate. For instance,hen the story broke about Barak Obama’s pastor (Dr. Wright), I searched YouTube until I found his entire sermon and found the little bitty clips in context. They meant something then and were not nearly as offensive. If you know anything about the African-American church in this country, then you can understand where they came from. If you don’t, then shame on you. You have some homework to do.
Christians also need to understand the political process in such a way as to get beyond a single issue or even two issues. Politicians, especially at the national level, must be more nuanced than that. However, those same politicians are not above using and abusing naive voter blocks who may be lead around by the nose with a few well-chosen words. We also need to understand the milieu in which we live. We need to understand the vast difference between Israel of 4000 years ago and the United States of now. There are some similarities, but we are NOT God’s chosen people. Nor is this God’s chosen country. It is different.
Here is the point I’d like to make the strongest. We are not electing a king. Ever since the time of Samuel (1Samuel 8:4-8) the people have been asking for a king. When Jesus came as Messiah no one recognized him because they were looking for royalty and He was a peasant. Now today in our country even those not in the church are still trying to elect a king every four years. We try … every time … we keep looking for that savior who will make the country right again. This time, this vote, is going to set us on the right path. And it never happens. It never will. We are eternally disenchanted. Every four years we keep waiting for a coronation, but we have an inauguration and we’re let down once again. Because we do not have a king.
That’s a good thing. We have checks and balances on aristocratic power and authority. We, the people, have a voice. As Thomas Jefferson wrote:
“Governments, wherein the will of every one has a just influence… has its evils,… the principal of which is the turbulence to which it is subject. But weigh this against the oppressions of monarchy, and it becomes nothing. Malo periculosam libertatem quam quietam servitutem. [I prefer the tumult of liberty to the quiet of servitude.] Even this evil is productive of good. It prevents the degeneracy of government, and nourishes a general attention to the public affairs.” –Thomas Jefferson to James Madison, 1787. ME 6:64″
“… nourishes a general attention to the public affairs.” You see that’s the most important part of the quote. In order for our republic to function, it requires a general attention to public affairs. That means more than voting. We cannot simply vote and walk away from the process, thinking our job is done. Even so look at the statistics from the last presidential election:
In the presidential election of November 2004, the 64 percent of voting-age citizens who voted was higher than the 60 percent who turned out in 2000 (Table A).2 This was the highest turnout in a presidential election year since 1992, when 68 percent of voting-age citizens voted.3 The overall number of people who voted in the November 2004 election was 126 million, a record high for a presidential election year. Voter turnout increased by 15 million voters from the election in 2000. During this same 4-year period, the voting-age citizen population increased by 11 million people. The registration rate of the voting-age citizen population, 72 percent, was higher than the 70 percent registered in the 2000 election. The last presidential election year to have a higher registration rate was 1992, when 75 percent of voting-age citizens were registered to vote. Total registration in the November 2004 election was 142 million citizens, an increase of 12.5 million registered citizens since the 2000 election.
In the presidential election of November 2004, the 64 percent of voting-age citizens who voted was higher than the 60 percent who turned out in 2000 (Table A).2 This was the highest turnout in a presidential election year since 1992, when 68 percent of voting-age citizens voted.3 The overall number of people who voted in the November 2004 election was 126 million, a record high for a presidential election year. Voter turnout increased by 15 million voters from the election in 2000. During this same 4-year period, the voting-age citizen population increased by 11 million people.
The registration rate of the voting-age citizen population, 72 percent, was higher than the 70 percent registered in the 2000 election. The last presidential election year to have a higher registration rate was 1992, when 75 percent of voting-age citizens were registered to vote. Total registration in the November 2004 election was 142 million citizens, an increase of 12.5 million registered citizens since the 2000 election.
That’s pitiful. Not even 2/3’s of the voting population in 2004. And if you read the full report the breakdown of the statistics is even worse. When you begin looking at age, education, and race the numbers are incredulous. Those who use their voice in our country are white, rich, well-educated … and old.
It’s a self-selecting voice though. We all have this voice. Every single one of us. Every race. Every gender. Education level doesn’t matter. Hell, you don’t even have to be able to read. The empire is hoping that these trends will continue. Evil despises change. And if Christians bow out now we will allow evil to have it’s way.
The really subversive and Biblical thing to do?
These are the ways that we work against getting fooled again. Just bowing out of the system or not thinking about it ensures that evil wins … again. And the new boss will be the same as the old boss. Like or not, we do owe a few pennies to Ceasar as well as some to Jesus.
UPDATE: The discussion here got far too personal and filled with ugly slurs that are not becoming for those who claim to follow or be disciples of Jesus Christ. Because those who were participating in the conversation cannot seem to restrain themselves, I’ve closed comments. 7:30 EST July 23, 2008
This is a synchroblog … here is a list of others who wrote about this fascinating subject today
Phil Wyman at Phil Wyman’s Square No More Lainie Petersen at Headspace Jonathan Brink enters The Political Fray Adam Gonnerman explains The Living Christ’s Present Reign Sonja Andrews at Calacirian Mike Bursell at Mike’s Musings Sally Coleman at Eternal Echoes Steve Hayes on God’s Politics Matthew Stone at Matt Stone Journeys in Between Steve Hollinghurst at On Earth as in Heaven KW Leslie tells us about God’s Politics Julie Clawson is Singing the Songs of Zion in Babylon Dan Stone at The Tense Before Alan Knox asks Is God Red, Blue, or Purple? Beth Patterson at The Virtual Teahouse Erin Word discusses Hanging Chad Theology
I’ve wanted to post a photo of this sign for months now. It appeared late last summer in my town. Some consider it an eyesore. Others call it “The Liberty Wall.” I’m in the latter group. Suddenly now it’s getting national attention. That’s a good thing. I’ll tell you why in a minute. First read the sign.
There’s a battle taking place in my town. I did not even know about this battle until the first skirmish had been won last summer by local xenophobes. They managed to pass the most restrictive, invasive, fearful anti-immigrant laws in the country. It was such a horrible law that we managed to come under the scrutiny of the United Nations. Not the US … not my state … my COUNTY!!!
The bare bones of the law are that the police may ask for anyone’s papers that they consider to be suspicious. So … if anyone gets stopped for any traffic violation, the police may question them about their immigration status. It amounts to a Fourth Amendment violation of our Constitution. But who among the immigrant population has the wherewithall to take this fight to the Supreme Court? Or who among them knows that this is possible?
For the first several months, the nativists strutted around waving their flags considering themselves the victors. What protectors of the castle they! Houses began to go vacant. Families began to disappear. Stores locked their doors. Teachers in our schools lost their jobs. Mortgages were defaulted upon.
The law of unintended consequences began to make itself felt.
As more and more of our population fled the county, our economic substructure has begun to crumble. Our housing market is in the toilet and while real estate prices have fallen around the region, they have fallen so dramatically in my county to have made national news … on PBS! Or so my mother reports. While the number of children attending ESOL classes has fallen in our county, it has gone up in neighboring counties. So these families are not going “home” (where ever that might have once been), which is the law’s express intent. But they are merely shuffling their place within this country. This has become a high stakes game of NIMBY (Not In My BackYard) where we are using human beings for game pieces and the federal government as our hostage.
So, my question is … how’s that working out?
From what I can see no one is gaining from this foolish law … our local jail is overcrowded with people awaiting deportation because the federal facility has not yet been built. Our economic structures are beginning a sad crumble because whether we like or not we depend upon these people for support and assistance, just as they depend upon us. We all live in a system together and when you remove part of it, the ripples cause problems …
So … how’s that working out for ya?
Earlier this year I went on a little road trip with two friends. We were investigating the possibility of purchasing a quilt shop in a little town not too far from here. That possibility did not pan out, but on the road trip we discovered a wonderful Mennonite grocery store where they sold sandwiches to order. The sandwiches were delicious. Hanging on the wall over the cash register I saw this hand-lettered sign:
“The cost of something is that amount of life which must be exchanged for it.”
That is a profound truth. The cost of something is not necessarily the price tag that is put there by the merchant from whom the customer purchases an item, but it is that amount of life which must be exchanged for it.
So … exactly how much should that bottle of TwoBuckChuck cost? … in light of the following? (ht Christy at DryBonesDance)
Farm Worker Died Connected To Two Buck Chuck
We told you about the tragic death of 17-year-old Maria Isabel Vasquez Jimenez who died while laboring in a Stockton area vineyard in 100 plus degree heat. According to a Wednesday AP story, the San Joaquin County Coroner has officially confirmed that Maria died of heat stroke. Maria had been working 8 hours in the blistering heat without shade or sufficient water. The closest water supply was a 10 minute walk away. … Because Maria worked for a labor contractor, she most likely never knew she was part of the production team for Bronco Winery who is better known for Charles Shaw wines–commonly called “Two-Buck Chuck.” This best selling wine is available exclusively at Trader Joe’s stores. According to Trader Joe’s web site, “these super-value wines began as the result of an oversupply of wine and a great relationship with a valued supplier.”
We told you about the tragic death of 17-year-old Maria Isabel Vasquez Jimenez who died while laboring in a Stockton area vineyard in 100 plus degree heat. According to a Wednesday AP story, the San Joaquin County Coroner has officially confirmed that Maria died of heat stroke. Maria had been working 8 hours in the blistering heat without shade or sufficient water. The closest water supply was a 10 minute walk away.
…
Because Maria worked for a labor contractor, she most likely never knew she was part of the production team for Bronco Winery who is better known for Charles Shaw wines–commonly called “Two-Buck Chuck.” This best selling wine is available exclusively at Trader Joe’s stores. According to Trader Joe’s web site, “these super-value wines began as the result of an oversupply of wine and a great relationship with a valued supplier.”
Maria’s Story
On May 14, the official temperature was 95 degrees; it was even hotter inside the wine grape vineyard owned by West Coast Grape Farming, east of Stockton, where Maria and her fiancé, Florentino Bautista, worked. Maria had been working for nine hours. At 3:40 p.m. Maria became dizzy. She didn’t know where she was and didn’t recognize Florentino. Maria passed out. Florentino helplessly held her in his arms. There was no water for the workers from 6 a.m. to 10:30 a.m. When water arrived, it was a 10-minute walk from where Maria was working, too far to access. There was no shade or training for foremen and workers about what to do if someone became ill from the heat—as required by law. … After a number of delays Maria was taken to a clinic. On the in Lodi, the foreman called on the driver’s cell phone and spoke to Florentino. “If you take her to a clinic,” the foreman said, “don’t say she was working [for the contractor]. Say she became sick because she was jogging to get exercise. Since she’s underage, it will create big problems for us.”
On May 14, the official temperature was 95 degrees; it was even hotter inside the wine grape vineyard owned by West Coast Grape Farming, east of Stockton, where Maria and her fiancé, Florentino Bautista, worked. Maria had been working for nine hours.
At 3:40 p.m. Maria became dizzy. She didn’t know where she was and didn’t recognize Florentino. Maria passed out. Florentino helplessly held her in his arms.
There was no water for the workers from 6 a.m. to 10:30 a.m. When water arrived, it was a 10-minute walk from where Maria was working, too far to access. There was no shade or training for foremen and workers about what to do if someone became ill from the heat—as required by law.
After a number of delays Maria was taken to a clinic. On the in Lodi, the foreman called on the driver’s cell phone and spoke to Florentino. “If you take her to a clinic,” the foreman said, “don’t say she was working [for the contractor]. Say she became sick because she was jogging to get exercise. Since she’s underage, it will create big problems for us.”
Maria’s temperature upon arriving at the hospital was 108.6. After two days and six heart stoppages, she died.
It’s the latest fashion craze …
With the price of gas, now it’s financially wise …
And after years of eschewing the environment Christians are now flocking to the so-called green movement in droves.
Can I say this in my outloud voice? I’m just a little bit cynical.
No, make that a lot cynical. Cynical to the point of illness. You see, I’ve been an environmentalist literally all my life. I could just say, “I grew up in Vermont,” and most of you would understand. But it was more than that. I grew up understanding the devastating effects of pollution. I’ve been cutting the plastic rings that encircle beer/soda cans since they came out … to protect water birds. I cleaned road sides as a child and now as an adult I look at the trash on our roads and remember the animals who live in what has become a toilet.
We are a wasteful society and trash culture. When we look at ourselves in the mirror, our culture of efficiency and productivity on one side of the coin, has created waste, trash and selfishness on the other side. We cannot have low prices without using people and resources in ways that are abusive in the end.
We have had the technology for smarter cars and using less gas for thirty years. Yet for the last ten years we have driven larger, and larger cars. Look in any church parking lot, what do you see? SUVs and minivans … an armada of them.
Look inside any church, what do you see? An ocean of cheap plastic clothing. Polyester, nylon … both derivatives of petroleum. Made cheaply and at the expense of someone’s life in another country. But here in the US? We have been “good stewards” of our individual budgets. Each family member has far too many clothes bought cheaply at the local deep-discount store.
I read on the wall of a Mennonite grocery store, “The cost of something is that amount of life which must be exchanged for it.”
Too often we have looked at our individual budgets, incomes and outgos and thought we were being “good stewards” of our money. But have we been good stewards of our lives and of the lives of others? Have we measured the cost of things in terms of the life that has been expended on it? We look at cost in terms of dollars. What if we began looking in terms of life exchanged?
What is that call on our lives? Then perhaps, Christians truly would be little green men.
****************************************************************************
There is small handful of us posting a SynchroBlog on Green Spirituality. The posts may not be up and running until Thursday afternoon:
Is it All About the Green? by Phil Wyman Rediscovering Humanity’s Primal Commission by Adam Gonnerman Turn or Burn? A New Liberal Hell? by Cobus van Wyngaard Little Green Men by Sonja Andrews Bashing SUV’s for Jesus by David Fisher Saints and Animals by Steve Hayes When Christians Weasel Out of Their Environmental Responsibilities by K.W. Leslie Green Christian Manifesto by Matt Stone God So Loved, by Sally Coleman
Happy Father’s Day.
It’s one that will surely survive in our collective memory as a family.
It began early; as in 5:30 a.m. One last early rink time for the season. We all went. LightBoy’s game was on one sheet at 7:20; LightGirl’s on the other at 7:30. I ran through the golden arches for a delicious, nutritious breakfast. Yum. LightBoy lost. LightGirl tied. But none of that is memorable.
LightGirl has had a crush on a teammate for a while now. About a week ago she got some intel which suggested that he was more LightBoy’s age. This was completely embarassing. Humiliating. Horrifying. In her words, she felt like a pedophile. Ewweth. This morning before the game I discovered she had bad intel. Her crush was her age. I passed this information along after the game.
So what do you think she did? Well, what would you do? Given that you definitely wouldn’t be seeing the guy again til September and maybe not very much even then.
Has she ever been on a date? No.
Has she ever had a boyfriend? No.
Has she ever been in any kind of relationship of any sort other than friends with a boy? No.
Has she ever spoken more than say fifteen words in a row to this kid? Uhhh … no.
So, of course, it goes without saying … ask him out. Ask him, where? Just … you know … out. On a date. Sometimes the mom is stoo-pid.
It’s helpful too, to have a friend by your side who will act as your voice when you and the guy stand there staring at each other. So, her friend did the actual, you know, asking. She said, “So … LightGirl wants to know if you’d go to the movies or something?” He said, “Sure.” and they both stood there and looked at each other … stunned. So GirlFriend spoke up again and said, “Now it would be good if you exchanged phone numbers.” So they did that too.
Then she came flying around the corner to tell me all about it. Grinning from ear to ear.
She spent the next half an hour texting him. Now she is firmly, giddily ensconced on the phone and computer with her peeps giggling and reliving the event. Imagining what will come next. And ad finitum. It is quintessential adolescence.
And just like that LightHusband and I have crossed a rubicon. It came upon us and we were across it before we even realized that it was there. I never even heard the echo of my feet on wood as the footsteps bounced back from water.
We are lucky, I suppose. She’s very confident. The young man in question is kind, upright, and a decent hockey player. We now have decisions of heavy consequence to make. Where should they go? What should they do? Now that the question has been asked and answered, will the “date” actually even take place?
On another hand, our fortunes run much deeper than that. Our definition of what is quintessentially adolescent is light and air. It involves words like, “giddy” and “peeps.” She will (Lord willin’ an’ the creek don’t rise) complete her secondary education and go on to get a college level education of some sort. There are many, many parents in the 2/3’s world who never even begin to think these words, never mind associate them with children in their family. Yet most families in our world … our 1/3 world, that is the industrialized, civilized, mechanized, and importantly educated, world do have the opportunity to associate words like, “giddy” and “adolescence” and “grin” and “date” and “secondary education” and “college education” with our daughters. Not only do we have that opportunity, we make the assumption that it is the right and natural course of things.
According to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs being secure in our bodily needs allows us to become more secure with our friendships, family and relational intimacy. This in turn builds self-esteem, confidence, etc. It makes sense in a way. One cannot build relational intimacy, when one is deeply hungry for days and months on end. Or living in a place where the water is not reliable. It is simply not feasible. So most Westerner’s (we of the 1/3’s world) would tend to think of education as necessary yet expendable. After all, an education will not build security. It will not fill stomachs or healthily hydrate starving bodies. It will not keep peace among warring neighbors.
Or … will it?
What we are coming to find now is that the key to world peace might just be …
… our daughters. Our collective daughters. The brown ones, and tan ones and yellow ones and pink ones. It’s not that they need to rule the world. Far from it. They just need an education. It is having an education that gives them self-esteem and self-esteem begets relational intimacy which then allows for safety and security and then they can help their families fill their stomachs and hydrate their bodies. It seems that Maslow works for us, but it may just be upside down in other parts of the world.
Give these girls some time … time to be giddy and grow up. Time to learn. Time to be girls, then time to be women. Time to read. Time to calculate. Time to have a date or maybe two. Time to giggle. Time to achieve. Time to gain confidence in their righteous state as children of the Creator. Time to earn respect. Time to bestow respect. They need our time, so that they may have a little more time. And in so doing it is our collective daughters who may just change the world … one village at a time.
I woke up this morning with these words echoing around in my head:
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today!
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
They were spoken in a voice that is different from my voice. A rich deep baritone that is familiar to all of us. This clip is familiar to many of us. I have fuzzy, crackly memories of those words when they were first spoken, crackly and fuzzy on the radio in our house in Kansas. I was two and something. Those words were repeated over and over throughout my childhood.
Twenty years later when I was 22 and something I stood down on the Mall and listened as those words and that speech was re-enacted. I looked around at the poverty and disparity and dispaired of the words ever having truth.
Forty years later when I was 42 and something I listened to those words each year with my children and we talked about what they mean, and who this man was.
Now I’m 47. I woke up this morning and realized I’m watching this dream come true. On August 28, 2008 … 45 years to the day later, Barack Obama will accept the nomination for the Democratic Party.
This year. This election. We’re choosing hope. We’re looking at the content of someone’s character and not the color of their skin. Yes, Amen and all good things, we’re choosing hope. Let justice roll down like a mighty river and may grace abound …
