It's not unusual for people to talk about grandchildren—now (with pictures) or in the future. I've been in such conversations. But I was brought up short the other day when a friend said, "I don't want grandchildren."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Just think. What kind of a world would they be born into?"
I'm embarrassed to admit that I've rarely considered these two things at the same time: what my actual family, friends, and neighbors, and their flesh and blood descendants, will experience, and the macro-scale trends forecast by our economists and ecologists—a future my contemporaries and I might or might not experience firsthand, but what we might reasonably anticipate for our children's children.
Politicians naturally might want us to believe that, with our support, they will help shape that future into a better direction. But I have some questions for them/us:
Will your recommendations benefit some children ("our" children) more than others? If so, what will happen when those other children catch on to your game? And will our children welcome this bias and be infected by your cynicism, or will they be repelled in favor of a more universal blessing?
How will you know when disastrous ecological changes approach a tipping point beyond which we cannot risk going? What risks of miscalculation are you willing to take? When are you going to go public with your own private realization that we have been postponing a true reckoning too long?
When will the dismantling of our (U.S.) constitutional structures and norms reach a similar tipping point? How will you know? How are you responding?
In any realm—political, ecological, economic, or the places where all three merge—can you envision joining a coalition of hope and change of a sufficient scale that it would compensate you for abandoning your personal dreams of political success—a success that honesty might well threaten?
Will you identify, join, or help build such a coalition? Will I?
If by some microscopic chance, our generation's grandchildren see this, my question to them is: well, how did we do?
Political tipping point toolbox: The Federalist #51, "The Structure of the Government Must Furnish the Proper Checks and Balances Between the Different Departments."
Climate change outlook (science and politics) for 2025 and more generally. It seems that the planet itself is not in danger, but how far can we push its capacity to host complex life forms?
Revisiting George Lakey's writings, while assembling the list above, reminded me of the power of telling stories in advocating social justice. I still have vivid memories of Studs Terkel interviewing storyteller John Henry Faulk. (November 1, 1969.) I couldn't believe my ears! In fact, Faulk's argument from absurdity probably helped open me to genuine Christianity, as did the Christmas 1969 issue of Reader's Digest a month later. (I told that story here.)
Back during Richard Nixon's Watergate crisis, I was in the office of Edward Lee, one of my Russian professors, and our conversation turned to those events in the country to our south. (I was a Carleton University student, in Ottawa.)
Lee pointed out that there was a silver lining to the daily parade of distressing revelations: as it turned out, we had been right about Richard Nixon. Our misgivings were based on reality.
Today, as the evidence of unbridled authoritarianism under Trump and Musk keeps streaming in, I thought about that conversation. I confess that part of the reason I stay on top of each day's political news is not just to refresh my sense of horror. There's a perverse satisfaction in getting confirmations that our misgivings are not exaggerated.
For Christians who cherish the cycle of the church year, Lent has just begun. (This year, Lenten observances in the Eastern and Western churches roughly coincide.) One of my friends in England takes a complete break from the Internet during this season. I am not following her worthy example; I'm online daily to watch events unfold around me, and to consider my modest role in resistance.
Still, I need to take into account the purpose of this season that culminates in my favorite holiday, Easter. In Lent we go into the desert in search of Living Water so that we can meet the risen Lord with our hearts refreshed and ready, undistracted, in essential unity, ready to share the seeds of hope.
... Undistracted? In unity?
I sometimes forget how much support there is around me if I just stop and look! My English friend's discipline blesses her—and me, too. So does every community in the family of faith that keeps holding up the reality of that Living Water, and reminds me in many ways, liturgical as well as Quaker, in order not to get dried out with my steady diet of difficult news. Anger and cynicism are roaming that desert, ready to complain about the lack of water, tempting me to ask, "Is the Lord among us or not?" (See Exodus 17:1-7.)
Since the late 1970's, during every Lent, I work my way through Emmanuel Charles McCarthy's Stations of the Cross of Nonviolent Love, which reminds me that, through the millennia of history, the family of faith has endured far more time under one or another form of tyranny (with parts of the family even becoming collaborators!) than under relative freedom. In the USA, some Christians claim to be under persecution, but in many other places, the persecution is real, just as the trial, torture, and execution of the Head of our family was real. Nor are we at liberty to ignore the suffering of the rest of the world.
A decade ago I originally posted "Theological mathematics." The essay that inspired me was by Thomas R. Kelly. It was part of the collection of writings published as The Eternal Promise. The context of his brief essay entitled "Reflections" was another period of high tension: World War II was just ahead. What's more, in those very months Kelly was writing, Germany and her opponents were in a strange competition to enlist Russia as an ally.
In another essay from the same book, "Where Are the Springs of Hope?" (also summer 1939), Kelly said, "In such a world as ours today, no light glib word of hope dare be spoken." Such words are not suitable unless "...we know what it means to have absolutely no other hope but in Him. But as we know something of such a profound and amazing experience, clear at the depths of our beings, then we dare to proclaim it boldly in the midst of a world aflame. But the words are no good if the life experience is not behind them."
I think Kelly's writings in The Eternal Promise (and, of course, in the earlier collection, A Testament of Devotion) are helpful Lenten sustenance, and not just for me as an individual. They might speak to all Friends, and to all who may find themselves and their communities in a dry, fractious place just when the world needs their seeds of hope. As it turns out, the more variety we have in our Lenten disciplines, the more we need to support each other, drawing upon the experiences of all people everywhere who know what it means to challenge the principalities and powers.
Theological mathematics (2015), edited
In the summer of 1939, just weeks or perhaps days from the opening guns of World War II, Thomas Kelly was staying at an Episcopal monastery in Cambridge, Massachusetts. While there, he wrote some reflections that were published posthumously among the essays collected by his son Richard Kelly in The Eternal Promise.
Among other reflections, Thomas Kelly wrote:
Outside the shadows of the evening are falling upon the quiet, friendly garden where a few moments ago three of us, two Fathers of the Catholic tradition and a Friend, were speaking of the sacraments. There was much talk of the "covenanted channels," of the seven to which Catholics hold, of the two which Protestants practice. So long as questions of theological mathematics were upper, of seven or of two, there was a danger which we tacitly avoided. It became evident that I, an "unbaptized" Quaker, was not a Christian, except for the saving provision which allowed one to be a "Christian by desire."
Yet as the conversation moved to the love of God, to the need of Christ being formed in us, to the outgoing love of the Nazarene, to the blind and lame and wounded in body and soul in these days, the conversation became a sacrament where the Presence was as truly in our midst as He is in the Mass within the chapel walls. For the time being, Sacramentalist and Quaker were one, in the fellowship of the Church Universal.
The phrase that struck me forcefully: theological mathematics. Kelly is gently putting the question of sacramental observances in perspective, but I sat there wrestling with a different arithmetic: subtraction. We serve such an amazing God, we are led by such a luminous Saviour, the world is so demonstrably in need of authentic Christian hope, that I'm having a hard time with all the public Christians who seem intent on telling us (whether crassly or with endless theological subtlety) why this person or that should have the church's door slammed in their face.
It's not that we shouldn't have boundaries. Apparently many people are, at any given moment, not attracted by the Light we ourselves have found irresistible; they are entitled to their choices. But our invitation must remain honest and real and the door must remain open, fully lit. What we can't tolerate is a false welcome, an ostensible invitation with hidden screens to be sure nobody we're uncomfortable with stumbles in. Yes, we will have healing work to do; wounded people are not entitled to remodel the household of faith to suit their allergies and addictions. We will have to struggle, together with newcomers, over different understandings of the ethical consequences of conversion, whether the sharp edge of the struggle is sex or money or the obligations of citizenship. God knows, we're dealing with all this ourselves. But, the point is, when people come to us and say that they're ready to embrace Jesus, we then face these problems, even these conflicts, together.
The conflicts between theological conservatives and theological liberals in our evangelical corner of the Quaker world are not to be dismissed or taken lightly. At our best, we challenge each other's pretensions and false heroism, and keep each other honest. But I fear that when we let those conflicts take up too much space, we lose our perspective and our priorities. It's not that we need to conceal these conflicts in order to avoid scandalizing potential converts. People aren't stupid, they won't be surprised that we "mature" Christians are just as human and fractious as they are. But woe unto us if we diminish Christ's ability to create unity where the world would predict, even encourage, division.
(Back to 2025.) I love how Kelly's reflections on his visit to the monastic community in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on the eve of wartime, model the kind of wideband mutually supportive relationships that we'll need in these times. I am also remembering Beacon Hill Friend Howard Segars, who in our own time was also a participant in this same Cambridge community.
Related posts: "The gathered meeting," parts one and two.
See original post for some helpful comments from readers.
You may have noticed the words "our evangelical corner of the Quaker world...." When the post was first written, we were still in Northwest Yearly Meeting. Many Friends in our current "corner" of the Quaker world would probably not use the adjective "evangelical" for themselves. The word has suffered a lot of abuse as a result of its politicization.
I mentioned my practice of monitoring online sources of political news. Kristin Kobes Du Mez lists some of the sources she finds helpful for this calling. Her Convocation Unscripted colleague, Robert P. Jones, has an Ash Wednesday commentary on the U.S. president's speech to Congress. (I may have given the Convocation Unscripted link before, but just in case....)
Despite limited legal victories in the Supreme Court and a U.S. district court, the USA's international aid programs and partnerships are still in grave danger. Here's FCNL's online campaign facility for this concern. My one caution: e-mails to my Oregon senators are getting through on these facilities, but our congressperson's e-mail has a filter to catch "automated" e-mails even if the actual e-mail has been substantially rewritten by the sender. I now write to her using the form on her own congressional Web site.
Right Sharing of World Resources just held another online gathering of former board members, giving us a chance to meet the new executive director, Traci Hjelt Sullivan, and the country coordinator for Guatemala, Ruth Bueso. I wrote about the first two gatherings here and here. Among other things, the RSWR staff asked for our help in publicizing these job openings.
Hubert Sumlin (1931-2011) and David Johansen (d. February 28, 2025) had a marvelous collaboration, with Johansen supplying voice after Sumlin's lung surgery.
Memories of Elektrostal, Russia, in winter, thanks to Sergey Kadyrov (composer and videographer). (Not related to tonight's post.)
The president of the United States is vigorously putting his authoritarian stamp on all aspects of federal government. With the help of technocratic lieutenants, he is cutting ties with past practices and norms as quickly as possible, hoping to carve and cut as much as possible before (if ever) the courts, the Congress, or the people slow him down.
A crucial part of his core support is a network of charismatic Christians who believe that Christian authoritarianism is actually better than democracy, that their leaders are apostles and prophets in the biblical mode, and that their opponents are in the service of Satan. How might those of us Christians who value democracy, and are emphatically not in the service of Satan, organize our responses?
Last week I summarized at least one school of interpretation of all these developments. This week, I want to consider how we in the Church (capital C) might be responding. My ideal is a mutually respectful division of labor according to our spiritual gifts, temperaments, and leadings. And I'm organizing these tentative thoughts using the metaphors in my post from May of 2021, "The church is like a ...." As always, your additions, improvements, and personal stories are very welcome.
My overall point is this: each of us can do, and is called to do, only so much. Our strength is in Jesus, not in anxious overwork, and the church can be our point of coordination and mutual support.
"The church is like an incubator."
Are you a pastor or elder, a member of the meeting of ministry and counsel? Whatever your title, perhaps you have a calling as one who cares for souls. You can hold open space for grief, for lament, for the recognition of our losses, for our disillusionment and discouragement, and also for those whose idealism flares up in the face of all this.
You can watch for the new growth of leadership and prophecy for our times among young and old alike, and let them know you've noticed and are ready to connect them with mentors.
You will see who among you, and who in your broader community, has lost jobs as a result of the administration's slashing of the federal workforce and its contractors, and the cost of the MAGA war against the hard-won gains of the civil rights movement, and connect those people with aid.
Your role in the church might be to administer the funds or shepherd the connections that respond in practical ways to these challenges.
If you have the gift of prayer or healing, you will certainly be needed to uphold all of these ministries, and to pray protection over the community and its places of work and worship.
Consider how to bring children and newcomers into conversations that might come more naturally to some than to others.
How can our worship faithfully reflect the joy, grief, and commitment that we honestly feel as we put ourselves and our situation into God's hands? As Larry Norman asked fifty years ago, "Why should the devil have all the good music?"
"The church is like an observatory."
Not everyone can cope with the constant stream of news, rumors, and social-network posts that reflect the administration's actions and their consequences. But if you can do so, your careful work in discerning truth from exaggeration (from whatever side), urban legends, and outright false witness will be an important contribution to the whole community.
If you are an observer, part of your role might be to identify reliable sources of information, as well as predictable sources of misinformation (inaccuracies and exaggerations) and disinformation (deliberate deceptions and false narratives, no matter how persuasive).
Are you a legal expert or lawyer? In collaboration with other observers, you may see opportunities to initiate or join legal challenges to unlawful, unethical, or unconstitutional acts.
The prophets among you will be needed to give voice to God's leadings, and confirm them through consultation and mutual accountability among each other. Remind the community that, whatever other business the faith community may have, agenda item number one remains, "What does God want us to say and do at this time and place?"
Prophets can help us know when the time has come for civil disobedience.
You and other observers in your own community can be in frequent touch with other communities that have similar commitments to faith and trustworthiness.
"The church is like a laboratory."
Be curious! The Christians who choose authoritarianism over democracy have their reasons, and their own version of idealism. If you are feeling led, and are equipped and prayed-for in your community, reach out to our opponents and ask questions, supply accurate information, build relationships, pray for them, and bring your insights back to the rest of us.
Do you have the gift of evangelism? Pray for opportunities to open up a more complete witness of grace than the opposition offers. Be ready to explain concepts of spiritual warfare that that are not politically manipulative. For those who have never seen what spiritual unity looks like when nobody is excluded, be sure your community is ready to demonstrate what we preach, and don't conceal our failures!
When civil disobedience is called for, be prayerful and creative. Look to the past for inspiration (for example, in George Lakey's books) but also innovate. Build coalitions with trustworthy allies. Consider tax protests and boycotts, and be prepared to explain your actions to the public without resorting to activist jargon. Accept failure and learn from it, without losing heart. Stay in constant touch with pastors, elders, stewards, and prophets, cherishing your unity with those who may be called to prayer and stewardship but not to disobedience.
Does your community have divisions between mystics and activists, between cynics and idealists, conservatives and radicals, between those who rage and those who mourn? This is the time to experiment with new commitments to love and learn from each other, and use our differences to keep each other sharp and honest. There's nothing wrong with conflict, conducted ethically among those who love each other.
This list is just a start. Its biggest weakness: no stories. I could tell a few ... and make this post far too long. Better idea: please tell some stories of your own, and add some ideas and color to this list. Also, I'd love for us to know who else is working on church-based responses to the threat of Christian-sponsored authoritarianism. Let's build the network.
(Note: See the items from Beacon Hill Friends House in the link list below, under "Coming in March.")
March 5, 7:30 p.m. and March 19, 7:30 p.m. Eastern time: Organizing for the Time We Are In, Session Two ("Know Your Rights and Community") and Session Three, online from Beacon Hill Friends House.
Since OCHA began systematically documenting demolition incidents and displacement in the West Bank, including East Jerusalem, in 2009 until recently, the main direct driver of displacement of Palestinians was the demolition of homes for lacking building permits issued by the Israeli authorities, due to restrictive and discriminatory planning regimes applied in Area C and East Jerusalem. However, in the past two years, displacement patterns have shifted, reflecting broader changes in the protection environment for Palestinian communities, particularly herding and Bedouin communities in Area C. In 2023, settler violence became a leading cause of displacement with more than 1,600 people displaced due to settler violence and access restrictions (mainly in Bedouin and herding communities), compared with about 300 people displaced by lack-of-permit demolitions in these communities. Between 2020 and 2024, settler-related incidents targeting Bedouin and herding communities that resulted in casualties, property damage or both increased nearly sevenfold, rising from about 50 incidents in 2020 to approximately 330 incidents in 2024.
It is no surprise that many Americans have not heard of the "network of networks" that compose Independent Charismatics, particularly those centered on Peter Wagner's New Apostolic Reformation. (See this post, Are we agents of Lucifer?, for a brief introduction.) Those of us who just catch occasional glimpses of Pentecostal and charismatic subcultures may find them either absurd or disturbing, especially if we rely on video clips of "preachers gone wild" and the like. We are therefore likely to underestimate the appeal and reach of those subcultures.
Taylor points out that, contrary to some stereotypes, the Independent Charismatic leaders who enter the political realm are ethnically diverse, have women in major leadership positions, and are far from biblically illiterate. Their political significance is rooted in several interrelated theological themes that, as Taylor describes, unite the vast majority of this Christian movement: they believe that their leaders are apostles and prophets, with all the authority that comes from the biblical models linked to those labels; they believe that Christians are (directly or indirectly) to dominate all the major institutions of society, including government; and to get there, they are to confront the territorial demons wherever those demons are in control. Given these beliefs, it is not surprising that this enthusiastic core of Trump's political support are (so far) apparently not disturbed by the blatant authoritarianism evident in the first month of the new presidency.
Matthew Taylor and others have done a useful job in examining the personalities, theologies, and politics of these and other leaders, along with their congregations and networks. I'm intrigued by something else: the sense of mobilization and enthusiasm among their followers, compared with the rest of the USA's Christians.
Taylor writes,
To be charismatic is to seek fulfillment of two deep and driving desires. The first desire is mostly individual: charismatics want to feel supernatural power flowing through them. This personal desire usually gets discussed under the rubric of the biblical "spiritual gifts." Charismatics want to be filled with the Holy Spirit on a deep, existential level so that they can participate in a world of miracles, ongoing revelations, and a personal sense of closeness to God.
The second desire is more communal and global: charismatics want to be part of an extraordinary work of God in the world. This is usually framed in terms of seeking "revival": a fresh, unpredictable, collective outpouring of God's Spirit in such a way that thousands or millions of people are rejuvenated in their faith. Many Christians in many traditions hope for revival and talk about it in different ways. But I have never encountered any section of Christianity so singularly preoccupied with revival as Independent Charismatics. They pray for revival, prophesy about revival, strategize for revival, study revival history, and hanker for a bracing new work of God.
The steady pursuit of these two desires is what gives charismaticism its remarkable energy and even gravitational pull. For many Christians, the promise of having Holy Ghost power flow through you and seeing the extraordinary outpouring of God's energy into the world is irresistible.
Taylor and other observers of these movements also point out that their worship experiences, including immersive music and inspirational sermons, play a role in building up feelings of "supernatural power flowing through them." They are blessed, not just by their own spiritual gifts, but by each other's.
With these "two deep and driving desires," it's not hard to see how participating in the enthronement of a supposed Cyrus figure such as Trump would be deeply satisfying. It would not be fair to describe these millions of people as spiritual zombies without wills or minds of their own; many of them have made the deliberate calculation that, to defeat the demons corrupting our country, it is worth the risk of having an authoritarian in charge who is (they believe) answerable to them through their prophets and apostles.
At the same time, it's also important to say that many Christians of a charismatic temperament have not signed up for this. They may share those same personal and communal desires, but work for goals along different lines: revival, yes; but in the meantime, planting churches that love their local communities in practical ways. They are not busy trying to flip presidencies, but they do understand that their local faithfulness will have global effects.
And that brings me to Quakers. When I read about "ongoing revelations and a personal sense of closeness to God," am I not right in detecting desires that we Quakers share? Don't we want to be part of "an extraordinary work of God" in this world where so many suffer from violence, poverty, and degradation of the environment? (Not to mention the principalities and powers, and evil in high places. "The world is dying for lack of Quakerism in action," said Hugh Doncaster in his address to the Friends World Conference in 1967.)
If so, how do we encourage and express these personal and communal desires as Taylor described them, or reasonably similar desires? What factors get in the way? Do we assume that we are spiritually or culturally superior to those whom Taylor describes? Do we think there is something unseemly about sharing enthusiasm? Or, as in the case of some in my own extended family, have we been burned by communities that emphasize obedience to the apostle or prophet, rather than mutual trust? How do we find a healing that doesn't involve quenching the Spirit in others?
Also: if a political leader rose up who was far more palatable to us than Donald Trump, would we become as starry-eyed on their behalf as his current followers are on his? (Truthfully, I have several candidates in mind!)
Cover design shows Grini Concentration Camp main building. Print made by Ole Olden and smuggled out as his greeting for Christmas 1941. Nothing can keep a star from shining.
A couple of weeks ago, I posted "Under occupation" as one of the ways I'm trying to make sense of the current USA presidency and its actions.
A commenter on that post mentioned Myrtle Wright's book Norwegian Diary 1940-1945. I just finished re-reading it, to my great benefit.
On April 9, 1940, Wright was a Quaker peace worker who happened to be on her fourth day of a brief visit to Norway when the Germans invaded that morning. She ended up remaining there for nearly four years. Thirty years later, her account of those years was published by the Friends Peace and International Relations Committee in London. It's now out of print but there are used copies on the market. Online, a Russian translation is available in various formats.
After the initial conquest, the German occupation of Norway seemed relatively mild at first; the occupiers hoped to convince Norwegians that the invasion was simply to protect Norway from the UK's hostile plans. German soldiers conducted themselves correctly, by and large; the German overlords mostly operated behind the facade of the Quisling government and other local collaborators. In summer 1942, the mass arrests of Jewish people began, including a group of Jewish children who became a special concern of Wright and her friends. Executions were more frequent, private radios were outlawed on pain of death, labor conscription began (often destined for Germany). The occupation became much harsher. As life in Norway became more and more complicated under these conditions, Wright began keeping a diary starting in June 1942 in order to record and remember significant events, travels, and contacts as they happened. The first four chapters of her book were written after the war, and cover her arrival in Oslo, the German invasion, the famous teachers' and pastors' acts of resistance. After those first four chapters, the contemporary diary itself begins, and takes up most of the rest of her book.
The book was published in 1974, the very year I became a Friend. In 1975, after my visits to Moscow and Leningrad, I spent a couple of weeks with my grandparents in Oslo. On Sundays I attended the Oslo Friends Meeting, and there I met some of the people whose names come up in Wright's book, and visited some of the locations she described.
Norwegian Diary reminded me of Patricia Cockrell's more recent Sketches from a Quaker's Moscow Journal. In both cases, much of their service consisted of making and keeping appointments, arranging meetings, carrying food, money, clothing, and letters, dealing with bureaucracy, responding to emergencies, and observing discretion in risky situations. The level and character of repression differ between the two cases, but, sadly, that gap is narrowing.
I wondered—what might Myrtle Wright have recorded in her book that we might find interesting in our present situation? Here are some of her observations on living in an occupied country.
The importance of community. Even after being unexpectedly trapped in a country under occupation, Myrtle Wright was not alone. Her overlapping networks—including Quakers, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, and Old Woodbrookers (alumni/ae of Woodbrooke College in Birmingham, England), and their families and friends—were sources of mutual support. Although at the start of her story, Oslo had just one Quaker member, there were frequent opportunities for worship with likeminded people. Occasionally Wright was able to travel to Stavanger, the historic center of Norwegian Quaker life.
The importance of information. After the German authorities confiscated private radios upon pain of death, Norwegians listened to BBC news and similar sources on hidden radios at great personal risk, and then passed along war news by word of mouth and through underground newspapers—also a very risky business. Information about arrests, prisoner transport, and incarcerations, about the underground railroad to Sweden (its departures, arrivals in Sweden, failures and betrayals) needed to circulate under the noses of the occupiers. The book gives several examples of the code words used by the resistance. Despite all the impediments, Norwegians found ways to keep themselves informed. One example: the amazing story of the White Rose circle in Germany became known in Norway.
Pacifists' dilemmas in war and occupation. Myrtle Wright and many of her friends were committed pacifists, yet (as she writes eloquently) they understood that Allied successes on the battlefield would hasten the end of the war. Within Norway, most people agreed that nonviolence was the only basis for resistance, but many people quietly cheered the Allies' advances in the USSR, (Stalingrad is often mentioned), North Africa, Italy, and France. With these wartime realities, Wright and her friends preferred to discuss postwar visions of freedom, justice, and the growth of empathy without distinctions.
War and occupation create understandable bitterness. The pacifist outlook, as expressed by Wright and many of her friends, not only made violent resistance unacceptable, it also helped them preserve empathy (for example) for the German cities being bombed by the Allied air forces. Such spiritually grounded empathy was nothing if not universal, and would be badly needed when the time for repair and restoration would come, as these circles believed it would.
The value of humor. Humor has the power to build community, point out awkward truths, reward divergent thinking, and restore perspective.
At Christmas the prisoners had decorated the barracks and Per Krohg had painted a frieze. Fehmer, from the Gestapo ... came to inspect. He was evidently impressed and stopped in front of Per Krohg's frieze with the remark, "It is remarkable what a primitive nation can produce under German control." This became a byword in Grini and, when prisoners were digging ditches in slow temple or on some other work, they would say to each other, "It is wonderful what a primitive nation can produce when under German control."
The importance of rest. The constant demands on Wright and her friends eventually brought them to the very limits of their energy. As the war went on and restrictions on travel increased, it became harder and harder to do the usual Norwegian thing—hiking on mountain paths, along rivers, on glaciers, in meadows ... and away from the streses of daily life. Some of the most beautiful passages in Wright's book describe these wonderful escapes, even as they find their movements being more and more restricted by the occupation.
There are few direct parallels between the occupation that Myrtle Wright experienced and the looming threats to democracy in the USA, but I think that some of the values and capacities that aided her and her friends remain valid for today's resistance.
July 10 Saturday (from Norwegian Diary, 1943).
Landing on Sicily—the news has gone round like lightning and spirits rise at once. Everyone adds a few more details until there is no more to tell, and rumour does the rest. At least this is another step, and a long-awaited one. A pacifist, what should she think? Many lives will be lost, but every day of delay means more lives, to say nothing of illness and misery. The fury of this disease of violence is not likely to abate without much more loss of life, and, therefore, can one feel a little relief if only the end draws nearer? The physical death of the soldier cannot be worse than the torturing decay of the concentration camp, or the ghetto, or the terror of the civil population in the bombed towns. But physical death is not the ultimate test—what of the spirit which is bred in the warring nations and the occupied countries? We at least can do nothing to stop the fury of the armed warfare; our job lies in another direction and is quite clear, if only we can get it done. We have to prepare the minds of men for the moment when they again have choice and can by their actions, determine the way the peace shall be built; or will the end of the outward war show that Nazism, beaten in the battlefield, has won a victory in men's hearts?
Myrtle Wright (Norw.) married Quaker educator Philip Radley in 1951 and was then known as Myrtle Radley. She died in 1991. More about Myrtle and Philip.
Meanwhile, in Russia: Meduza's Lilia Yapporova and colleagues survey the realities and dysfunctions of the Russian opposition inside and outside Russia.
Last week, I proposed "under occupation" as a way of absorbing what the new Trump regime was imposing on us, and considering how to respond. I'm not going to try to list all the developments since then, that, taken together, feel like a occupation—you know as much as I do about all that. Here are just a few reflections, with references, on the past week.
Lawsuits: In my list of links last week, I included a lawsuit challenging a U.S. Department of Homeland Security policy change. That change allows DHS to invade "sensitive locations" such as places of worship, schools, and hospitals in order to arrest immigrants suspected of violating the law. The lawsuit was filed on behalf of Philadelphia Yearly Meeting of Friends, New England Yearly Meeting of Friends, and Baltimore Yearly Meeting of Friends, along with two congregations within Baltimore Yearly Meeting.
Since then, several other faith communities have joined the lawsuit, including New York Yearly Meeting. In that same list of links, I provided a link to this legal challenges tracker. At that point it listed 24 lawsuits challenging various executive actions of the Trump administration. As of today, the number of complaints has grown to 37.
The favored religion: Today, in a document entitled "Eradicating Anti-Christian Bias," Donald Trump announced that his administration "will not tolerate anti-Christian weaponization of government or unlawful conduct targeting Christians. The law protects the freedom of Americans and groups of Americans to practice their faith in peace, and my Administration will enforce the law and protect these freedoms. My Administration will ensure that any unlawful and improper conduct, policies, or practices that target Christians are identified, terminated, and rectified." (More in Reuters' coverage.) I wonder, will this protection extend to Catholics and Lutherans defending migrants, or "nasty" Episcopal bishops who preach the Gospel in the president's presence? And what about our neighbors who peacefully practice other religions, or none?
The executive order mentions religious freedom in general several times, but the heavy emphasis (judge for yourself) is on eradicating anti-Christian bias. The Biden administration is charged with "an egregious pattern of targeting peaceful Christians, while ignoring violent, anti-Christian offenses." The charges include the completely coincidental timing of Easter Sunday 2024 and "Transgender Day of Visibility." I can't help suspecting that to score points with a crucial part of his base, Trump might actually contribute to a whole new wave of genuine anti-evangelical bias as religious and secular people alike absorb this embarrassing enmeshment of government with the Christian knockoffs that suit this cruel and irreligious regime.
Ethnic cleansing, American style: Joe Biden's active participation in the rubbishing of the Gaza Strip was bad enough, but here comes Donald Trump with an amazing new embellishment: remove the whole population and create a "Riviera of the Middle East"! Meanwhile, as Michael Arria (Mondoweiss) points out, (1) the West Bank may face equal threats, and (2) "A Trump-appointed member of the United States Holocaust Memorial" (Martin Oliner) "has published an Op-Ed calling Palestinians 'fundamentally evil' and not worthy of 'any mercy.'"
Meanwhile, up in space: First, another false witness against Joe Biden. Last month, Elon Musk posted on X "that the president [Trump] had asked SpaceX to bring the two 'stranded' astronauts back to Earth. Musk added that SpaceX would do so, and, 'Terrible that the Biden administration left them there so long.' Trump chimed in, "I have just asked Elon Musk and @SpaceX to 'go get' the 2 brave astronauts who have been virtually abandoned in space by the Biden Administration. They have been waiting for many months on Space Station. Elon will soon be on his way. Hopefully, all will be safe. Good luck."
The actual situation, and the complicated planning and spaceship-swapping involved (no fault of Biden's!) is described by Ars Technica's Eric Berger.
A history lesson: "What follows is a step-by-step account of how Hitler systematically disabled and then dismantled his country’s democratic structures and processes in less than two months’ time—specifically, one month, three weeks, two days, eight hours, and 40 minutes." Timothy W. Ryback (gift link) in The Atlantic.
Rebecca Gordon (Tomdispatch) sums up:King Donald, old and new litanies, and the Faithful Fools.
Heather Cox Richardson's own summary of the occupation's progress, and a few instances of resistance. (Don't blame her for the "occupation" metaphor; it's mine.)
A pro-Russian disinformation source produced a video discrediting USAID, and apparently Elon Musk and Donald Trump, Jr., have taken the bait.
Becky Ankeny has been speaking to Silverton Friends Church about the crucifixion of Jesus. Last month she spoke about the resurrection.
Micah Bales at Berkeley Friends Church on Jesus and his inaugural sermon.... "'All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.' Wow, what a guy! He’s going to make Israel great again." Shouldn't he have stopped while he was ahead? More to the point: What has God anointed him to do?And are we ready, not just to admire, but to follow?
Greg Morgan, Elderchaplain: "Religious faith is an important source of peace for many facing death, but it’s no guarantee...."
Once again, an invitation to join our weekly online prayer meeting for peace, under the care of Friends World Committee for Consultation, Europe and Middle East Section. Every Tuesday, 1:30 p.m. London time. See this page for more information.
Christone "Kingfish" Ingram and his band perform "662."
