Footloose and Facebook-free

The other night I was on Facebook, and things started messing up. It wouldn't allow me to post on any wall or update my status. After a while, it knocked me offline and would not allow me to log on for about 30 minutes or so.

At first, I (mildly) panicked for about 38 seconds when Lanecia said that she couldn't even get on my FB page. "I was deleted from Facebook!!! Argh!" But then came the whelming sense of calm. "I was deleted from Facebook . . . siiighhh!" Something felt really good about it.

So when they finished with their maintenance and all that jazz, and I was able to log back into my account, I immediately deactivated it. And it feels so very, very good for this particular time.

I suppose this is a season, and I'll join Facebook again. I could be back to posting news articles, quotes and Pray With Africa updates and liking photographs and statuses in a week or a month or sometime thereafter . . . Who knows? But for now, I'm just enjoying this nice, lovely breath of fresh air.

May you find ways to listen to what feels right and breathe fresh air, as well--whether it be in letting go of something or daring to try something new. May you be surrounded by a whelming sense of calm and listen to it.

peace.

Charter for Compassion

Commit to nonviolence, peacemaking and cruelty-free living. Commit to compassion: Charter for Compassion. When Karen Armstrong won the Ted Prize in 2008, she was granted funding for "one wish to change the world." Her wish was for compassion, and the Charter for Compassion just launched Nov. 12 as a project to create a "cooperative effort to restore not only compassionate thinking but, more importantly, compassionate action to the center of religious, moral and political life."


Check out the site and join the list of people who affirm the charter.

Shock and Awe!

I saw this quotation today, and I liked it a lot:

"Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn't go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination." - Robert Fulghum

Memorial Day

It's Memorial Day, and I'm at Fido sipping on chocolat chaud with whipped cream and marshmallows, taking the holiday pretty easy (even though I'm technically still working). I listened to the radio this morning on my way to spin class, and I laughed aloud when the announcer suggested that we commercialize Memorial Day even more than Christmas and Easter. "You rarely hear the words 'Memorial Day' without the word 'sale,'" he said. Such a curious and false idea. I sure wish people stopped sending me Memorial Day baskets and started supporting the troops instead. I hate when we don't get the Memorial Day tree up in time for jolly old Sgt. Nicholas to come down the chimney. So funny that he said that . . .

I agree, however, that we hardly even reflect at all about soldiers of yore and today who deserve to be memorialized. Instead we celebrate a work-free day at the beginning of the summer and pray that the sky doesn't release a downpour, preventing our poolside grilling with family and friends. So today I pause to remember fallen soldiers and their bravery and commitment. And I pray for all of the families who wait for their soldiers to come home, hoping to never have to remember them on this day. I pray for the families who, despite their hopes, will face a very different, very difficult Memorial Day next year.

And I pray for peace.

Exhausted . . .

I've been tired all of the time lately. I desire a nap more than usual. We had a camp for the Golden Triangle children of our church last week. I feel like I'm still catching up on sleep from the week. But maybe I'm just tired all of time from something else.

Despite my exhaustion, I'm at peace. I'm journeying with Julian of Norwich this month in my daily devotions, so my theme for life right now is, "All is well." And truly, even though life's highs and lows can find ways to tire us, all manner of things will be well in the end. Amen!

For Peace: A Prayer

For the families who wonder when their soldiers--mommies, daddies, sons, daughters, and lovers--will return home
For our leaders whose decisions give them power to be war-filled or peaceful
For those who do not watch bombings on television but see them live in their own land
For the many brave soldiers and the many frightened citizens whose breath is no more
Lord, have mercy
For the times I neglected to pray for peace
For the times I turned deaf ears to genocide and war
For the times I choose the ease of ridicule instead of accountability for our nation’s leaders
Lord, have mercy
For my silence
For our folly
For humanity's self-inflicted lacerations
Lord, have mercy
Amen

War no more

As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem. And he sent messengers on ahead, who went into a Samaritan village to get things ready for him; but the people there did not welcome him, because he was heading for Jerusalem. When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, "Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?" But Jesus turned and rebuked them, and they went to another village.
~Luke 9:51-56



Here the Gospel of Luke shares with us just one of the many examples of Jesus choosing peace in the face of opposition. When using incredible power and force against the Samaritans made sense to James and John, Jesus rebuked James and John and radically walked away from the village, instead. We know Jesus as peacemaker because the Gospels share this radical side of Jesus with us.

In solidarity with the bishops of the United Methodist Church and the thousands who have already signed their statement for peace, I pray that we call our government into living what we know through this person called Jesus. I pray that we radically call for peace and work towards peace instead of continuing in a horrific war that has cost the lives of more than 2,000 brave U.S. soldiers and tens of thousands of Iraqi citizens.

In his address Sunday, President Bush pleaded to the people of the U.S.: "I do not expect you to support everything I do, but tonight I have a request," the president said. "Do not give in to despair, and do not give up on this fight for freedom."

We are Easter people who know a different story of freedom through the radical peace of Jesus!

I do not have answers on how we can pull out of Iraq now. I know, however, that we have to challenge our leaders to be in the business of peace-planning because war-planning is not the way. If you'd like to join in solidarity with the bishops and ask our leaders to think of another way, please visit their statement and sign it.

Peace in the Middle East

The United Methodist Board of Church and Society is a member of Churches for Middle East Peace. The group is holding a conference in Nashville Nov. 12, 10 am-4 pm to discuss Israeli-Palestinian peace efforts. Click here for information if you want to attend.

Genocide in Darfur

For any Nashvillians who check my blog, I hope that you'll join me next Sunday, Oct. 16, at Fisk University's Chapel. There will be a community dialogue and meeting about the situation in the Darfur region of Sudan. Tennesseans Against Genocide (TAG) is sponsoring this event and bringing in Jerry Fowler, director of the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum Committee on Conscience, as the featured speaker. There, we will discuss exactly what we can do to help end genocide in Darfur.

So be there at 2 pm Sunday!

International Freedom Center

We visited the District Six Museum in Cape Town, South Africa this summer. It is a lovely tribute in a Methodist Church downtown to tell the story of District Six. Once a place where many diverse families thrived and lived peacefully, District Six was declared "white-only" in 1966 during the apartheid era of the country. Many years before in the early 1900's, however, the government began forced removal of the black South Africans there. Soon everyone was removed, and the area was flattened.

The museum captured the heart of District Six, telling stories of what life was like before and after the forced removal into shanty townships still in existence today. The tour guides were people who once lived in the district. Our tour guide, a coloured South African, remembered being away from home as a little boy and returning to find that his family did not live there anymore.

I liked, also, that the museum dedicated a portion of its space to telling stories in other parts of the world that are similar to theirs. You learn about its partner museum in Sweden, which shares a common history. You learn about other parts of the world where racial injustice has affected the livelihood of a people.

So I am disturbed when I read this morning that Governor Pataki of New York barred the International Freedom Center (IFC) from the memorial quadrant of the World Trade Centers. The center's goal was to tell the stories of many areas of the world where freedom has been challenged, much like it has been on U.S. soil since 9/11/2001. My understanding is that the proposed plan would include other places on the site solely devoted to telling the story of the Twin Tower tragedy. This museum, however, would tie our story to other stories in the world.

I admit several things: I do not know the full extent of the IFC plan, I did not have family die in the Trade Center destruction, and none of my family members were heroic rescue workers during that time. With that in mind, I cannot say that I have the right to boldly state support of the museum. I think, however, that it would honor the lost lives and heroic deeds to connect our story to others in the world.

"The International Freedom Center was an obstacle not simply for the families, the first responders and all those who were personally affected by the events of Sept. 11," the New York Times quoted Diane Burlingame, opponent of the center, "but for all Americans who will be coming to the World Trade Center memorial to hear the story of 9/11 and that story only."

Why? Why do the citizens of the U.S. want to hear that story alone? I feel like the events of that day and the events that have happened since clearly show us that we are not a U.S. island. Our story affects the stories of other countries. Other countries' stories affect ours.

So the International Freedom Center will not be on the grounds and I’m sure this is fine. I hope, however, that we find some way in telling the story of this particular tragedy to show that our story stands in solidarity with suffering worldwide. The very concept of freedom around the world is part of the 9/11 story, which would be of great disservice to ignore.

Around the world . . .

I read on UMCOR's Web site an article where some UMCOR (United Methodist Committee on Relief) staff are visiting the war-torn Darfur region of Sudan right now. When news of Katrina devastation reached the group, they--the Sudanese and the people from the US--stopped their work and prayed for the hurricane victims.

Cut to clip of most citizens of the USA upon first hearing the news of slavery and genocide in Sudan:

We read the newspaper, watch the news, and shake our heads in dismay to know that slavery still exists. And then, as quoted in the film Hotel Rwanda, we'll "go on eating (our) dinners." A few of us say some prayers. A few of us, like Jay Williams, interrupt their lives and go to Sudan to be with the people there and to tell their stories. And sadly, many of us are not even aware or don't even take a minute to care. Some of us even ask (as I've heard from too many people), "What's wrong with Africa? They always have problems killing each other."

On a blog I was reading, one commenter said about the hurricane, "Americans are always the first to step up to the plate when other disasters happen, in other countries, and well have we heard from any other country pledging their help and support?"

Well, yes, first of all, we have heard from other countries. But even more disturbing about this person's thoughts is the idea that Americans (U.S., I presume) are the first to help other countries. Are we delusional in the U.S. to think that we play this great, mighty role of savior to the world? How often have we been the first to step up to bat? With the Asian tsunami, other countries were shocked at how little we were giving in comparison to our wealth. Even when considering the resources we have, it’s disappointing to think of how little we are doing for the Gulf Coast even. Often our other "humanitarian" efforts in the world benefit us as much as (sometimes more than) it benefits others.

I retreat from bashing the United States. This country is my home, and it is beautiful. I miss the beauty of it when I'm away. I am reminded, however, that we so often ignore the suffering of the rest of the world. And the rest of the world does not always ignore us. The prayers of those in Sudan humble me. And I pray that we will humble ourselves in prayer for them, as well as for the rest of the world:

• the 147 people killed today in an Indonesian jet crash;
• the unidentified numbers of Iraqi people killed in the Iraq war along with the 1,879 U.S. service members who have died since the start of the war;
• the more than 950 people who died in Baghdad Aug. 31 in a stampede;
• the sufferers of cholera outbreaks in West Africa,specifically the more than 9,000 infected in Guinea-Bissau;
• people around the world that are still enslaved today;
and this is only the beginning of a devastatingly long list. Please let us stop what we're doing and pray.

Hotel Rwanda

I mentioned Brad and Jennifer's separation today and was asked if I was absolutely depressed about the news. I said that I think we pay far too much attention to celebrity marriages anyway. So, yes, I was shocked but not depressed.

Later in the conversation I mentioned I was going to see the film Hotel Rwanda tonight. Wearing a look of disdain my friend replied that she would read about Rwanda in The Economist, a fascinating British mag that does decent coverage of the world. I read it, she reads it and most of us read it to get a view of the world while we sip our tall caramel apple ciders from the neighborhood coffee shop conglomerate. We usually feel good after reading it. We feel worldly and aware and well rounded.

I'm sorry she was depressed about Bradifer moving to Splitsville. I'm glad she reads about Rwanda.

I, too, am depressed now. And I, too, want to read about Rwanda.

I saw the film, and wish I had read more about Rwanda in 1994. I wish I had not only read about Rwanda, but I wish that I had seen images of Rwanda. And I wish they had disturbed me then even more than the staged production disturbs me tonight. I wish I had written letters, made phone calls, demanded intervention and freedom for a people being slaughtered and terrorized because of a power God abhors: hatred. I wish that I would react to today's "Rwandas." I wish that my response, my phone calls, my demands would make a difference and would motivate the western world to demand freedom and end terrorism. I mean, that's our thing isn't it? That's what we're all about, right? That's what we're doing in Iraq, after all. The United States and other countries care about people, care to end terror, care to assist in freedom. Don't we? Isn't that what we've been told?

Or maybe the senseless slaughter matters most when the dying live on continents not called Africa and when their flesh more closely resembles the so-called nude crayon in the box. Or maybe the senseless slaughter matters most when we might receive something in return for our efforts. Or maybe the senseless slaughter matters most when it happens to our own people on our own soil. Or maybe senseless slaughter matters most when it won't harm the chances for our representatives, our senators or our presidents to be re-elected.

Or maybe even then it doesn't really matter at all. As long as we still have the freedom to sip our venti nonfat skinny lattes, no whip, while reading about J. Lo's latest beau in Us Weekly . . . maybe that is what really matters.

I am depressed. I won't stay here. Depression is static. Hope has wings. So I will pray to find a way to do more than read about Rwanda. Or watch a film about Rwanda. I want to walk through Rwanda with its people and not desert them again.