One month on

It’s no secret that I’m politically liberal and like many of you have been stunned and disheartened by the first month of the current administration in the United States. But my role on this site is more pastoral than political, and besides there are others who can speak more eloquently and with greater detail than I can about what might come and how it may be responded to. What then is a faithful Christian response to the current situation?

First, I’ve made peace knowing that I cannot come up with a comprehensive solution and don’t expect you to have one either. Good ideas can quickly become fossils, and the moment requires nimbleness and discernment or else each of us will come overwhelmed, and then defeated. (We also have to be comfortable with language of conflict, or else we will delude ourselves about what is happening.)

That’s why — above all else — I remind myself of my core convictions. I need to know what I’m defending: not only the standards of American democracy, but social compact based on decency and mutual respect, characteristics the incumbent president sorely lacks. This is congruent with my faith, and beneficial to decent people of any faith or none. So I don’t have to hold myself to some pious and self-defeating false standard about what Christians should or should not do; I just need to know what I want at the end of this process. The common good, I suppose, above all else. That’s a work in progress, but it will be neither what we have now or what we have had recently.

Discernment like this is one tool on the path towards wisdom, and I’ve been thinking a lot about Jesus is saying in Matthew: “Be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves.” (10:16) I’ve seen enough debilitating and catastrophizing rhetoric on the Left — sometimes with unproductive rage towards political opponents — to know that harmlessness or gentleness is necessary for an eventual solution to this crisis. Why? Because there are a lot of people with whom I might agree politically who have a spiritual knife in the hand, pointed towards their own hearts. This is misplaced energy: fear or rage taking the place of constructive action, even so simple as listening to those in Federal service or dependent upon Federal funding for their livelihoods, or preparing for the destruction of programs which may or may not be legitimately in the president’s purview. The performance of outrage benefits no one, including the performer.

The tone is this post is not accidental. If the president wishes his enemies destroyed, there is no easier path for him than they destroy themselves: emotionally, morally or spiritually. With Christians in all times, we bear the strain with humility and grace, relying on the prayers and example of those whose suffering is and was immeasurably greater. We will not increase our suffering by debasing ourselves, but rather uplifting one another. Christian vocation prepares us for stressful and painful moments, and it is a blessing and opportunity we might share with others who struggle deeply and without relief. If we should find ourselves better persons at the end of the current crisis, let us count it as specks of gold mixed with the ashes.

Communion and COVID-19: historical perspective

As bad as the COVID-19 pandemic is shaping up, it’s not the first time Christians have had to factor “general sickness” into their church lives, including communion.

That typical low Protestant practice of using individual communion glasses comes from a fear of contagion, but also an ethical impulse, combined with a robust bit of Progressivist thinking.  Protestants of the late nineteenth century and before used a common cup. But fears of communicable disease (typhoid especially I think) prompted a Lutheran minister to serve the wine in individual glasses, and the practice was born. (And no, I won’t call them “shot glasses” or deride the practice as far too many high Protestants do. So don’t try it here.) Mind you: this is not my original research or thought, but comes from three decades of education and reading. I am probably getting some of the details wrong, but this is really to set the mood rather than recover a well-established field of study. (Also, I’m tired, like most of you.)

And this isn’t the first time churches have been asked to close, or else watch members die. The 1918 “Spanish” flu is out of living memory, but only just and was a terrible plague of the twentieth century. The point of our efforts — including a decision and announcement by the Church of England today, to suspend public worship — is to prevent a repeat. Of course, we have technology that we don’t. But he have inherited practices, too, including a curious one adopted (and now lost) by the Unitarians. More about that next time.

Remembering Nelson Mandela in D.C.

I live about a 20 minute walk from the South African embassy, so I went this afternoon to pay my respects following the death of former SA president Nelson Mandela.

My feelings are hard to put into words; he belongs to the ages. The world is so much better for his life and labor. The proof? Those who once denounced now try to claim him as a friend in death.

Walking up Massachusetts Avenue, a.k.a. Embassy Row, I noted how many embassies had their national flags at half-staff. At least a quarter; perhaps a third. I was not alone; there were enough people in foot — there’s no place to park, even if you have a car — to justify crossing guards.

Irish embassy
Irish embassy

Kenyan embassy
Kenyan embassy

Ongoing construction at the South African embassy made for a tight shrine. I got there just in time to sign the condolance book (inside the lobby) and then joined the small crowd, many of whom took photos or left flowers at the newly-dedicated statue of Mandela out front.

You have to do something when you make what — let’s call it what it is — a pilgrimage. You leave your signature, your thoughts (in the book, or on cards or with gifts) and a tribute of flowers. I brought my prayerbook.

SA embassy lobby, from outside
SA embassy lobby, from outside

Nelson Mandela statue and tributes
Nelson Mandela statue and tributes

Nelson Mandela statue and tributes
Nelson Mandela statue and tributes

I’m left thinking of Mandela’s legacy, but also how churches observe something like the death of a great figure, or a great and lamentable disaster for that matter. And what do you do when there’s no obvious focus of the outpouring? The South African embassy is obvious in Washington, but “how does in play in Peoria?”

A change in blogging (wherein I blame the Quakers)

After seven and a half years of blogging, it’s time again to rethink “The Boy in the Bands” — if only in a limited, experimental way. Blog is short for web log; so what of logging my thoughts first on paper, and then letting them ripen a bit before transferring them to the web? (Case in point, I’m transcribing these notes from September 8th.)

Of course, I blame the Quakers. Wednesday, I attended dinner, Bible study, singing, open worship and fellowship with the Capitol Hill Friends, an independent Conservative-leaning worship group across town. For the second time. Not sure what to make of the experience — open worship in particular is quite a challenge for me — but I feel more grounded and faithful coming out of these evenings, and less inclined to grind out a few choice words just to say I got a blog post up. Besides, as other bloggers know, writing this way is quite time consuming and now I would rather read more — including the Bible, and John Murray (rather than John Woolman) — and pray more. And perhaps even sleep more. So even, dear readers, if I’ve not posted any given day, it may be because I developing something more substantial and not because I’m disinterested.

(But a side thought. A logbook can also be a a running log of work, warts and all. And I have some church tech projects in mind, too. So there might be the odd, unripe posting. And some quickly dashed “see here” notes. I make no promises for consistency. And I’m not trading in my bands for a broad-brimmed hat.)

Remembrance of policy past

Ought policy statements — particularly those related to public — of the Universalist Church of America (Universalist General Convention) and the American Unitarian Association inform the policy of the Unitarian Universalist Association today?

Since the UUA is the legal (and I’d add moral) successor to the UCA and AUA, I’d say yes, provided said policy statement isn’t a non-sequitor. After all, we have a legacy of at least 220 years of democratically-decided public policy. We should look back to it, and reflect.

Oh, one problem! So far as I know, it isn’t complied anywhere. And the minutes are devilishly hard to get. Oh, for a summer at the HDS library!

Web media should be accessible, too

Piggybacking on Kim Hampton’s first-things-first approach (do read it) to ability and accessibility, let me humbly ask that all producers of online audio or video media create a text transcript to accompany it.

This is a matter of access in these ways:

  • Some people cannot see and other cannot hear. Text allows people to read, to hear automated text reading and even to use Braille readers.
  • Some people cannot understand spoken words when mixed with music, recorded in a noisy space or with inadequate equipment.
  • Some people do not have sophisticated hardware or capacious bandwidth to receive media. Indeed, a text can be printed and carried without immediate access to an electronic device.
  • Some people cannot recall where a resource lives. A full text allows for (better) web searches.

It’s more work, of course, but it makes the media more valuable and probably more enduring. And while I wouldn’t expect it to be simultaneously published say, at General Assembly, I would want it to be part of the final copy.

Reasonable?

Use your voice, less electricity to save mountains

Cranky Cindy wrote about mountaintop coal mining, and the environmental disaster is causes.

Universalist fun fact: the much-reported town deluged by coal ash, Harriman, Tennessee, was the site of the church extension project of the Young People’s Christian Union, a predecessor to Unitarian Universalist young adult ministries.

Not-so-fun fact: coal is not clean. It pollutes the air, and in mining districts it pollutes the water and soil.

And if you use grid electricity in the United States, you’re probably a part of the system that allows this to happen. That includes the power that runs my computer. So I try to use less, and learn more about mountaintop mining. Next comes the advocacy.

Last week, I attended the Nonprofit Technology Conference in San Francisco for work. One of the sessions I attended was about online mapping tools. One of the presenters was from iLoveMountains.org, which uses maps and video to make the connections between mountaintop mining and your electricity.

Learn those connections. Use less electricity. Advocate for cleaner technologies and mining communities.

Praying for Barack Obama: why and how

Kim Hampton replied to my last post, writing:

It’s funny that you’re writing about this today. I’ve been thinking about fear for the past week or so (especially since Barack won in Iowa). I’ve worried the whole time that Barack has been in the race that he would get shot.

Yes, I’ve been harboring a fear about an assassination attempt against Sen. Obama. I’ve seen writing to that effect elsewhere, and it would be too easy to do given the way campaigns and crowds come together. And the historical record hasn’t been kind for Democratic presidential candidates, black political figures and Illinois senators with an eye on the White House.

Without getting deep into a theology of prayer, it seems reasonable for a group of people to pray for Sen. Obama’s health and welfare, and for God to bless him with wisdom and insight. In the same way, it seems out of bounds to pray for political victory. The first is a request; the second is an implied demand. The first can be asked for anyone; the second is particular and excludes others. The first seems like a reasonable petition of faithful people; the second smacks of hubris.

Yes, I want him to be president but not willing to sacrifice my values to see it happen. Please pray for Barack Obama’s health and welfare.

Organizing a(n) (un)conference, BarCamp style

I’ve been writing about BarCamp, Unconferences and Open Space Technology — but how do you do it?

[Later. I realized I haven’t written about BarCamp or Unconferences, but intended to introduce them before publishing this. “A BarCamp is an ad-hoc gathering born from the desire for people to share and learn in an open environment”– using the Unconference model, which itself is a looser kind of self-organizing meeting like Open Space. So far its mostly a techie thing, but there’s a skeptics BarCamp in Denver in August so the door has been opened to broader subjects. Got it? I’m thinking these might be good inspiration for the <snark> new “unaffilliates” </snark> and district and cluster meetings.]

I’d first recommend you read and bookmark/del.icio.us/Digg the following:

Ten Steps to Organizing a Barcamp” (Clever, Clever Girl)

But since I found this link at the BarCamp site (BarCampsite?) you should look here, too. And share ideas you think apply here.