Showing posts with label pandemic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pandemic. Show all posts

10 February 2022

Freedom

Kukly, 21 May 2000, "Freedom of Speech." Tolstoy visits the Federal Bureau of Freedom of Speech.
Screenshot from source.

We citizens of the USA live in the "land of the free," but some of us seem determined to enforce our own definitions of freedom at the expense of others.

White people are free to go to school without fear of encountering anything in history or literature classes that could upset us. (Black people must give up their freedom to learn about their historical experiences, except those that pass through that first filter.) Certain pastors demand the freedom to gather their congregations without masks in pandemic conditions, as John MacArthur's lawyers did in California, while denouncing religious freedom when it comes to religions other than their own. Don't get me started on the truck drivers' blockades in Ottawa and Windsor.

People on the political left are often guilty of self-serving definitions of freedom, sometimes doing their best to cancel lectures or shame public figures they disagree with. Despite the reliable flow of alarms from people like Andrew Sullivan (case study) about this inconsistency between liberalism in theory and censorship in practice, I still don't see it as equalling the authoritarian right in danger to public health and democracy. Some alleged examples of left-wing censoriousness are simply bumper-sticker idiocy or mean-spirited caricatures (see embedded tweet), not a serious encounter with actual accusations nor a sign of impending revolution. But in these exaggerations, in spite of their spite, so to speak ... is there a germ of humor?

On the University of Chicago Divinity School's "Sightings" page, William Schweiker posted a useful essay on this phenomenon of selective freedom, "Our Comedy of Errors?" Freedom is necessary, he says, for us to go beyond the grip of our own egos and seek justice for all.

Political freedom, rightly conceived, is bound to the demands and obligations of justice. And yet we are witnessing the morphing of such freedom into simple personal or group preferences. If one does not like an opinion or a statement or person, simply dismiss it, her, or him. If masks are mandated by the government, I need not heed it. In sum, self-interest and mob interest threaten to swallow our capacity for justice, causing the freedom that makes democracy possible to falter on every side of civil life.

Kukly, 30 January 2000. Source.

Schweiker advocates irony and laughter to help break the grip of unreflective ego and "liberate constricted lives from their zealous quest to save the world, always in their own image." He reminds us of the Emperor's New Clothes; I remembered the Russian political satire show Kukly, which disappeared not long into Vladimir Putin's presidency.

If we can laugh at the exaggerations in our own defense of the liberties we prioritize, as well as at the inconsistencies of (say) the defenders of religious liberty, or others whose priorities we question, will we get a bit closer to cracking open our society's capacity to be reflective about freedom?

"The most realistic option for a change of power in the country." Found on vk.com in 2016.

Things that are easy for me to forget in the heat of controversy: 

When we try to look at each other's selective understandings of freedom, our tools also include simple curiosity. And we need to remember whom we are regarding -- all made in God's image.


In English, "freedom" and "liberty" are close synonyms, despite their different linguistic roots. Russian also has two words for the political and practical space to do what one wants, svoboda and volya. As the poet/bard Bulat Okudzhava explained,

What is a simple Russian inclined to do in his free time? Who knows? To reflect, to socialize, to drink. To drink not as an end in itself, but as a means of communication, merrymaking, oblivion. Inclined to free will [volya]; he doesn't give a damn about freedom [svoboda] but he loves liberty [volya]. It's as if he feels "nothing is holding me back." And when they say, "Here you are -- here's freedom [svoboda] for you," he does not understand. 

Here's historian and literary critic Leonid Batkin's version:

What is the difference between volya and svoboda? It is in the fact that svoboda is a positive and perfectly translatable concept. Whereas volya is absence of constraints (when the serfs were given letters of enfranchisement, this letter was called a volnaya), volya is when I do not have a yoke, when there is no authority over me, I do as I please, but there's no duty, no responsibilities. To get volya, people run absolutely anywhere, following their nose, to faraway lands, for example to the Cossacks. (But svoboda, you have to fight for it and treasure it.)

[Both texts are from 93 Untranslatable Russian Words by Natalia Gogolitsyna, which I wrote about here.]

I also remember the woman in a BBC documentary about Russia who said to the interviewer, "I already do whatever I want. Why do I need democracy?"


Another case study of the clash of freedoms: Timothy Snyder on the Canadian teamsters and their USA allies.

As we look north to the troubles of our Canadian friends, we can see familiar features, and recognize a general problem. It is perfectly legitimate for have different views on questions of public policy, and to express them. But social media and dark money favor the extremes against the center, and seem to whet appetite for violating the rights of millions of fellow citizens in the name of what turns out to have been a senseless idea.

Poet Nancy Thomas presents a new blog, Life in an Old Growth Forest: Reflections on Aging. "One of my purposes in initiating this blog is to explore the realities of aging, the highs as well as the voids, and learn to face it with courage and humor."

Tyler Huckabee remembers when Rich Mullins said hanging an American flag in church was "offensive."

A story for Black History Month from Haviland, Kansas, home of Barclay College. (Thanks to Jim Fussell via FB.)

Diana Ohlbaum (Friends Committee on National Legislation) on the Pentagon budget and the fearful "W-word."

Quakers, slavery, and sugar.

Eddington, Einstein, and "an expedition to heal the wounds of war." (The story behind the film, Einstein and Eddington, which we showed our students in Russia for several years.)


Another clip from Steve Guyger in Brazil:

06 August 2020

Don't throw out the Baby

Found on Facebook.  
I have no idea whether my target audience for this post will ever actually see it. That audience: people who look at the "Christianity" typically portrayed by white USA evangelicalism, and reject it. Sometimes, this skeptical audience seems to account for half of the Twitter comments on almost any religion-and-politics thread.

If by any chance you are among those who look at the graphic above and say, "Religion will be gone? Great -- who needs it?", I'm trying to connect with you. I'd like to make just a few points.
  1. You already know that Jesus is central to Christianity, and you might have some positive thoughts about him and his ethical imperatives, whatever your sense of his existence beyond his historical time and place. Hold on to that!
  2. Christianity, stripped to its bare essentials, identifies a way of gathering and organizing the people who follow Jesus.
  3. Whenever people try gathering and organizing themselves -- and each other -- they seem inevitably to screw it up much of the time. This is as true for any affinity group anywhere, except perhaps temporarily for some tiny group somewhere that I've never encountered. We are not immune -- sometimes this social dimension of Christianity fails miserably, but failure of this kind is not unique to us.
  4. Over and over in the history of Christianity, corruption prompts reforms and rebellions -- people who insist on returning to first principles, to a purer intention of following Jesus. They reject coercive gathering, coercive organizing, coercive enmeshment with secular empires. They throw out compulsory ceremonies and formulas that don't contribute to a life of following Jesus. (This was the rebellion chosen by the founders of the Quaker movement I belong to -- but we're not the only example, by far!)
  5. My challenge to you: look again at a Christianity stripped of authoritarianism, a Christianity that actually lets Jesus get a word in edgewise, and then consider whether the "Christianity" you've been presented is a credible representation of the followers of the Prince of Peace.
  6. You may not find this argument convincing at all! For example, you might say, "What good is a God-figure who seems unable to convince his own movement to avoid power-and-control tangents that he himself warned about?" Fair enough, but consider that the social movement itself, and its flags and symbols, are not Jesus' main priorities. His main priorities might be loving you, and giving you an intuition of him that is not controlled by the religion industry, an intuition that might draw you into a trust relationship that no external authority could ever adequately promise or describe.
Recommended reading
You have every right to be skeptical, even disgusted, by the pretensions of public religion that trades on the Christian brand to maintain its hold on power, leading you to decide, "Who needs it?" You might also not be persuaded that its Founder is exactly who he says he is, and who those of us who owe our lives to him say he is. But these are two separate decisions, and I ask, respectfully, that the first decision should not automatically lead to the second.

If you'd like to talk with people who already have some experience with these dilemmas and decisions, we'd love to meet you!



Related posts:








Is the vision of a democratic Russian state, rather than the old oppositional model, driving the new wave of protest?

Movie night with physicist Dominic Walliman. How important is it that films get the science right, and which films succeed?

Margaret Benefiel: Leadership, John Woolman, and our world's five current pandemics.

Rondall Reynoso: Should we topple the white Jesus?

By Young Friends for Young Friends worldwide: a 10-week series of five workshops on climate action, peace, and justice, beginning August 29. 



More from Steve Guyger ...

28 May 2020

George Floyd, rest in peace. As for those still here ...

. . . don't expect peace too soon.


I'm writing about the death of George Floyd for no reason related to my own insights or wisdom, but only because not to write anything just feels wrong.

Why this death? Why this particular victim of an ancient and constant phenomenon? Is there any indication that the death of Floyd, the shocking scandal of the police violence that killed him, and the subsequent protests and riots, constitute a turning point? I have no answer.

So many potential "turning points" and "teachable moments," of varying degrees of seriousness but blazing diagnostic clarity, have come and gone in recent memory:
The weight of all this evidence is clear: whatever we feel about race, whatever ideals we may have, however our parents and communities of origin shaped us, our actual degree of day-to-day social safety depends too much on our racial appearance. My individual goodwill is beside the point; I'm white, so if you're black and don't know me, you're just a bit safer, statistically, to stay on your guard or avoid me altogether. What is the individual human cost of constantly living with vigilance when around people of another race? What is the cumulative human cost of so much alienation? This is the persistent reality in the USA, and in other countries as well.

On top of all the progressive political points being made (and well made) by commentators in the wake of George Floyd's death and the ongoing overflow of anger on the streets of Minneapolis, I'm most troubled by the spiritual diagnoses. Read Kyle J. Howard's "Why Do They Riot? Rioting and the Overflow of Racial Trauma," which groups together his series of tweets from earlier today Please read the whole thing. Here are some points that spoke directly to me:
6. White America does not listen to the laments of Black people unless it’s forced to. Historically speaking, white America has always waited until the black community has exploded due to its ongoing trauma & rage at injustice before they’ve been willing to act… out of fear.

7. I do not condone rioting, but I also recognize it as a part of the cycle within a society that establishes caste systems. People who wield power against others can only do so for so long before those under the oppression explode. Power is rarely ever willfully relinquished.

Freedom Riders, 1961; source.  
8. It doesn’t have to be this way. Black and white people COULD come together and make a stand against the Kingdom of Darkness and the racialized oppression it has promoted within our world. It will not happen unless there are white people willing to count the very real cost.
Of course, being white, I noticed point 8 right away, and being a Christian, I could not miss theologian Kyle Howard's reference to the Kingdom of Darkness. For me, the church is the obvious laboratory and incubator to test Howard's challenge:
  • The church is (or ought to be!) independent from the principalities and powers that find it convenient to divide us by race and class, and to keep us helpless in our bondage -- or worse, ignorant that this bondage even exists!
  • The church is (or ought to be) a place where we regard each other as God regards us, where outward appearance and social situation take their proper place as we recognize that we are all made in the image and likeness of God.
  • The church is (or ought to be) the place where it dawns on us that reconciliation with God and reconciliation with each other are inseparable. We see how important it is that we discern anything that seeks to block reconciliation -- whether it's internal attitudes or external forces -- and the freedom to disrupt that bondage.
  • The church is (or ought to be) where we expect miracles and supernatural revival to honor and meet our fears, and feed us with joy. It is that joy, that hope, that trust and abandonment, that can draw spiritually hungry people together, rather than our progressive theories or white people's messiah complexes or performative self-flagellations.
  • As we envision what it will take for us to "make a stand against the Kingdom of Darkness," it is (or ought to be) the church who learns how to count and share the cost.
To draw on early Quaker references, when we are new creatures in Christ, we go back through the flaming sword into the Paradise of God, where we live once again in peace and equality as helpmeets to each other. I am so hungry to hear that our meetings and churches are enjoying this quality of relationship, taking territory from Satan in the process, and breaking down strongholds of violence and objectification.

This kind of work is not going to be easy. There is plenty to do for all gifted people (and ALL are gifted!) ... from prophets and pastors to teachers and treasurers. As with every front in the Lamb's War, we know that those who temporarily seem like enemies (racist police, for example) are actually in bondage themselves -- though we still expect justice to be served. We will be saddened but not fatally shocked when yet another outrage occurs. America's territorial demon of racism has been at it for centuries, and defeating it is not the work of a day. But, as believers, it is our work.



I was a bit nervous about using the language of spiritual warfare in this post. I actually believe that evil exists, and that its Author is our only actual enemy. All other "enemies" are fabrications designed to alienate us from each other and keep us from working for each other's liberation. Authors as diverse as Walter Wink and C. Peter Wagner have helped me understand this warfare. However, the terms of spiritual warfare have sometimes been used by right-wing Christians to demonize (!) people they oppose. For example, a subset of Donald Trump's "court evangelicals" (John Fea's term) have drawn on this language to exalt his presidency and demean his critics. This misuse of powerful spiritual language, of course, can play right into Satan's purposes.

You may not use this language as I do, or maybe not at all, but maybe you can see my overall point: the structures of objectification, oppression, and violence serve the Kingdom of Darkness -- principalities and powers and evil in high places (see Ephesians 6:11-20) -- and are not simply attributable to the designated human villains we're being told to hate.



Related posts:


Cheryl Townsend Gilkes on the killing of George Floyd: When you are kneeling, you are worshipping ... but whom? [My own contrast: the backlash against Colin Kaepernick for kneeling.]

Eugene Robinson: Black lives remain expendable.

William H. Lamar IV on the coronavirus, bad theology, and their impact on communities of color. (Thanks to Jim Fussell, via the Quaker Theology group on Facebook, for the link.)
I am a preacher. So as I dust the COVID-19 crime scene, I am ultimately in search of theological fingerprints.

What kind of God-talk makes possible a refusal to provide the universal health care that may have mitigated this crisis? What kind of God-talk makes possible a refusal to invest the money necessary to end homelessness? What kind of God-talk makes possible the racializing of criminality and poverty? What kind of God-talk gives political power to science-denying policymakers?

The answer? White evangelical God-talk. The injustices that many communities are experiencing as a result of the novel coronavirus are inextricably linked to this theology. The evidence is irrefutable.
(Are you tempted to try to refute this evidence? I am, but he's got a case. It's not exactly a purely theological case, but we see how race is embarrassingly decisive in how many evangelicals make their policy choices.)

Jonathan Aigner: Worship IS essential, but so is loving your neighbor.

Speaking of John Fea, he reports that Jerry Falwell Jr. designed his own unique COVID-19 mask.

Russians under lockdown arrange their own intricate versions of famous art masterpieces.



This is a video I embedded here about seven years ago ... now, thanks to widespread use of videoconferencing, it looks strangely up to date! See the comments on the YouTube site to get JR's explanation of how he put the video together. (And here's a recent article about JR -- the musician/scientist, Jean-Rene Ella-Menye.)

09 April 2020

Declaring war

The Monument to the Dead (Péronne, France, 1926), sculpture by Louis Faille (source)


Whether you approve or disapprove of Donald Trump, you can probably agree on this observation: he is always the hero of his own story. Thus, in his own words, in our time of pandemic, "I view it as a, in a sense, a wartime president." His former White House chief strategist Steve Bannon amplifies: "We are at war, and now by necessity he [Trump] is a ‘wartime’ president. Churchill rose to the occasion and secured his place in history. Trump’s moment is here, to grasp or to lose." [Source.]

I have very mixed feelings about this use of war rhetoric.

On the one hand: in stark contrast with some recent warlike U.S. involvements -- fake wars (on terror, drugs, inflation), proxy wars, secret wars, and endless military commitments in places like Afghanistan -- this near-global pandemic is imposing costs on our country and others at a scale comparable to all-out warfare. Even those not directly involved in illness, diagnosis, treatment, and research are forced to take risks, pay costs, lose income, or suffer family separations and tragedies. These kinds of risks and losses are just what a country might demand of us in wartime, with leaders exhorting us to accept these sacrifices in a cause greater than our individual fates.

War rhetoric, as Bannon implies, also imposes enormous expectations on national leaders. It is their moment "to grasp or to lose," depending on whether they have the competence and credibility to demand war-scale sacrifices. You can judge the current situation for yourself, but this article by Matthew Zeitlin makes interesting comparisons with Roosevelt's management of the USA's industrial mobilization in World War II.

To sum up the positive case for war rhetoric: it is one way to capture the national mobilization and motivation required by the potential scope of the crisis. The more effective the mobilization, the more likely the crisis can be mitigated, losses reduced, and lessons learned for the future. Returning to the World War II comparison, the agonies of World War II led to an era of international idealism (the United Nations, the Marshall Plan, disarmament treaties, and so on). Domestically, Roosevelt's Four Freedoms led to the Fair Deal, the New Frontier, and the Great Society -- all of which reflected FDR's wartime vision, however imperfect they were in practice. Maybe today's parallel to this postwar idealism would be to resolve to harvest the costly lessons of the pandemic, by (for example)
  • reforming health care financing, at long last, because nobody's health should be dependent on personal wealth or employment, and one person's infection is potentially everyone's concern
  • asking why some communities are more vulnerable to public health emergencies than others, and searching for solutions
  • restoring and improving our capacity to monitor global public health risks in the future.
On the other hand, war rhetoric has enormous risks. There are reasons that some politicians find this rhetorical tool irresistible. A real war traditionally implies centralized mobilization, even conscription, as well as all sorts of other powers generally forbidden to government in a democracy. Property can be commandeered, people conscripted, rationing imposed, civil liberties restricted, dissent limited, and maybe worst of all, the image of an "enemy" can be created to strengthen unity. If a virus isn't a vivid enough enemy, let's hint at the perfidy of the Chinese, the World Health Organization, George Soros, or some other fabulous villain.

(My mother, born and raised in Japan, heard about the forced removal of American citizens of Japanese descent from the U.S. West Coast. She remembered how the Japanese government pointed to this scandal as proof that the USA regarded all Japanese as enemies -- and, consequently, the Japanese should regard Americans likewise.)

The novel coronavirus is a deadly challenge and its defeat may require heroic efforts, but any national effort that diverts our resource by scaring us with scapegoats, wasting resources through chaotic mismanagement, dividing the country by prioritizing the creation of hero-politicians, or concealing information from the public, just makes things worse. The virus will be defeated only if we reject these diversions and, instead, unite and focus our efforts to:
  • prevent its transmission
  • monitor its spread
  • provide timely treatment, and 
  • research its prevention by vaccine, if possible.
Unfortunately, there are other, less direct, advantages for leaders beating the war drum, aside from the need for power and adulation. They can benefit from the country's distracted attention -- with people either prioritizing the need to pay attention to crisis-related news, or getting burned out altogether. During the current crisis, Donald Trump and his cabinet continue their campaign against environmental regulations, Obama-era health-care finance reforms, the press, and the network of inspectors-general that are supposed to guard us from government mismanagement and corruption. The journalists who ask questions about these and other awkward allegations, and their employers, are routinely insulted. Two examples from the last 24 hours: at a press conference, Trump dismissed the pleas of the U.S. Postal Service for help (reminder: there are over 600,000 postal employees); and a report in The Hill (not confirmed elsewhere as far as I know) states that members of the White House coronavirus team have been asked not to appear on the CNN network in retaliation for CNN not carrying portions of their daily briefings live. [Friday update: Heather Cox Richardson reports that this decision concerning CNN has been reversed.]

My final objection to war rhetoric has little to do with the current pandemic with its microscopic "enemy." I just don't like anything that strengthens the hold of "war" on the popular imagination, even as metaphor. We Christians are under instruction to love our enemies and serve as ministers of reconciliation, but the romance of war casts those who take Jesus and Paul seriously as hopeless dreamers. We have one legitimate war -- the one that Quakers call the Lamb's War. We oppose the beast of Empire portrayed in Revelation; we don't fight against flesh and blood, but against the principalities and powers and wickedness in high places. When the government begins brandishing war rhetoric, whatever the emergency or pretense, we should be on our guard: the Lamb's purposes are not necessarily being served.



Speaking of coronavirus and Revelation: "What would you say to people who think this is the end of the world." Wess Daniels on the Rework Podcast.

Is God judging America today? Margaret M. Mitchell looks at a Bible study attended by much of the USA's Republican leadership, seeking to understand how it might influence their attitude to the pandemic.

A coronavirus mystery: who paid for the Russian shipment of medical supplies to the USA, and why?

James Dyson designers present 44 science and engineering projects for schoolchildren at home during the pandemic. Thanks to openculture.com for the link.

And for those hungry for music, the Englewood Review of Books Web site recommends these twelve Tiny Desk concerts. To which I'd add Robert Cray, Tedeschi Trucks, and Gary Clark, Jr.



I hope this Moscow blues club will be up and running again after the emergency. In the meantime, here's a clip I first posted in 2017: Nathan James and the Jumping Cats with an aptly-named song, "I Found My Peace of Mind."

02 April 2020

Return to silence (partly a repost)

Yesterday I was startled by the sound of an airplane overhead.

Until just a couple of weeks ago, I wouldn't have been able to write that line. Planes were overhead constantly. The lack of planes and cars in our daily soundscape here, in this era of self-isolation, has allowed me to hear distant human conversations, nearby birds and insects -- and I can, for once, almost literally hear myself think.

For a retiree, this silence may be golden. But there's a vacuum in the silence, too. The cessation of many familiar sounds is linked with another reality that rings very hollow -- the interruption of work and commerce. The silence on the streets is linked with a record flood of unemployment claims, over 6.6 million in the last full week of March.

Sometimes this deeper silence buoys me up, and sometimes it weighs on me. I'm a terminal introvert, but I've found that even I have limits to my desire for isolation. Unexpected reunions by e-mail and social networks have given me great delight. The nice speakers that Judy gave me for Christmas are booming with classical music when others are nearby, and blues when I'm alone.

Silence during my morning centering hour, on the other hand, seems more precious than ever. As I pass out of the zone of words into the spacious territory of quiet, I've become aware of a hum, a vibration at the very edge of my perception. Maybe it's like the low hum of an amplifier. Maybe it's simply the carrier waves of my nervous system. I'm sure there's a natural explanation. But I'm interpreting it differently, using the analogy of cosmic microwave background -- the residual waves still lingering throughout space from the big bang that gave birth to the universe. When God desired Creation into existence, that original motion of love has never died away, and if I listen carefully enough, I catch a hint of its persistent presence.



The current public health emergency interrupted the plans that Michael Eccles and I had made to be in Moscow for part of last month. Our very first appointment had been the twice-monthly Wednesday worship group of Moscow Friends. The following thoughts on silence originated in a presentation I made six years ago to that same group. I reposted it again three years later, but it has fresh meaning for me now.

Earlier versions of this post had my translation from Natasha Zhuravenkova's Russian version of Pierre Lacout's essay "God Is Silence" for the italicized quotations below. This time I've substituted John Kay's English translation from Lacout's original French.



Fritz Eichenberg, Christ of the Breadlines
Pierre Lacout and silence

The "Thursday group," a circle of Friends who meet on two Thursdays a month [now they meet on Wednesdays], invited me to speak on Friends' understanding of silence, which I did this evening. I was so delighted by the invitation, since for me silence is like spiritual oxygen.

I started by telling about an incident that happened to me at the age of 19, when I was living in rural Pennsylvania and had to walk an hour every workday in the early morning, sometimes starting in darkness, to meet my ride the rest of the way to the Western Electric factory at King of Prussia. I spent the day on the assembly line. At the end of the day, I had the same four-mile walk in reverse, back home. One day, walking in silence as always, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the certainty that I was not an observer, separate from the landscape around me, but that I was the observed one, with the whole visible reality around me was doing the observing.

I fast-forwarded a few years to Ottawa Friends Meeting, within whose community I lived for three years, 1974-77, from the time I became a Christian until the moment I left Canada. I talked about my spiritual mentor, Deborah Haight, and the sense of centeredness I felt in her presence. Deborah was born into a Conservative Friends family in Norwich, Ontario. There were some in our Friends meeting who seemed to aim for an ideal of perfect silence in the meetingroom--street noises and even the sound of children could be a problem. But I had this feeling that Deborah held silence within her.

Discussion handout; read online
The rest of my comments this evening were based on Swiss Friend Pierre Lacout's booklet God Is Silence, which is available online in Russian, translated by Natasha Zhuravenkova. I organized my thoughts around some quotations from that booklet, which I had put in a handout along with discussion questions. I also drew from J. Brent Bill's Holy Silence and Anthony Bloom's conversations on prayer entitled "Let's Try Praying in Truth." (PDF, Russian.)

Lacout, after extolling the advantage of silence:
If nevertheless I speak, it is to communicate with souls whose silence is in unison with mine and who hear the Silence of God in the words I use. If I speak again it is to awaken to this silence souls ready to receive it.

And a bit further on, Regular practice is important. The Spirit blows where [the Spirit] will but ... only fills sails already spread.
Here I emphasized the inner discipline implicit in Lacout's words, and asked if this was any different from what Katherine Evans was talking about among early Friends when she said, "...we had thousands at our meetings, but none (of us) dare speak a word, but as they are eternally moved of the Lord...."

And when our Friend Jan Wood encourages us to "tell the stories of God's power among us," as we might experience it in worship, is this the same kind of talking that Pierre Lacout advocates among those who would otherwise prefer silence? As we discussed how to bring the gift of silence to those for whom deliberate silence is a wholly new idea, Friends mentioned how important it is to demystify it for newcomers to our worship, and not to let Quaker "culture" repel the tender visitor.

More from Lacout on the discipline of silence:
The life of silence is always a willed attention [as contrasted with spontaneous attentiveness to an external distraction]. ... The fully developed religious life becomes a mystic life. For some 'mystic' is synonymous with 'exceptional', involving visions, transports, levitations. ... This is putting the important thing into second place, pushing the central to the periphery. For Paul, a mystic is a person who knows the fullness of Christ, who lives by the inflowing of the Holy Spirit: 'It is not I who live, but Christ who lives in me.' [Galatians 2:20; context.] And 'They are the [children] of God who are guided by [God's] Spirit.' [Romans 8:14; context.]
We spent some time on the question of whether devotional literature, as some have suggested, tends to be written by introverts for introverts, and to what extent Lacout's insights apply equally to those of other temperaments. (Several Friends laughingly took issue with my self-description as an introvert, but I assured them it was a valid label!)

Lacout asserts that
Contemplative silence is a way of seeing which needs no object. It can only be defined as direction. It is a looking towards, not a looking at. Ideas about God are good only if I move quickly on from them. 
But those conceptions, or representations, have a use:
As a starting point [for the practice of silence], we choose beforehand a theme whch can gather together, not disperse, our spiritual forces. This preparation can be infinitely varied according to individual personality, character, vocation and religious experience. 
Here I mentioned the role of pictures (Eichenberg, for example, or Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son) in my own life, as well as music, books, and so on. I wish we had spent longer on gathering ideas from the other participants this evening.

I mentioned that a lot of spiritual literature, including that written by and about Friends, reminds me of socialist realism -- it's so upbeat and aspirational that we can wonder whether we'll ever have such wonderfully angelic and serene inner lives. Lacout writes honestly about two main obstacles to growth in silence--firstly, distractions and dissipation, and, secondly, the inner demons of the subconscious.
But the one who does not stop on the way, but goes beyond meditation, ideas and the enjoyment they give, to silence itself; the one who seeks the deepest Center, the very heart of being; such a one cannot avoid meeting in [their] path the subconscious and its phantoms. 
Unfortunately, we barely had time to touch on this important aspect, and the related topic of inner healing, during this evening's session.

One of the topics of our lively discussion afterwards was this question: was there a difference between what we know as Christian prayer and the sort of objectless, contemplative silence that Lacout seems to describe? In the material I distributed, I mentioned Brent Bill's comparison of the Eucharist and Quaker worship, particularly his insight that "We become the liturgist, priest, penitent, and communicant." None of these roles are the end point of silence, but to me they are crucial movements on the path. I talked about the villages in my head (now there are four!) in trying to describe why, for me, intercession is one of the central "objects" of silent prayer. I may cherish the experience of absolute self-abandonment to the Holy Spirit, but first I have to stay rooted enough to keep my promises!

It's also vitally important to remember that Pierre Lacout's definition of a mystic implies that the practitioner of contemplative silence may be "objectless" but is far from empty. I remembered the biblically resonant comments of my Dagestani conversation partner last week -- "If God isn't there, something else will fill that space."

I'm so grateful to the Thursday group for giving me the chance to put these thoughts together and to hear their experiences. Including our own time of silent worship, three hours flew by too quickly.

Originally published on March 6, 2014.


Related:

Silences.

Silent worship: "I wouldn't last five minutes."



Weldon Nisly of Christian Peacemaker Teams writes on enemy love, and on not becoming what you hate. (PDF, go to page five.)

Roger E. Olson's blog specializes in theological posts that simply and calmly invite discussion on topics that are anything but simple. This is why I've linked to him several times in the past. This time he asks if a true Christian can be demon-possessed.

Micael Grenholm lists the five worst Christian responses to the coronavirus pandemic.
We also believe in healing and the value of fellowship. But if the Jesus movement could go on fine during its first 300 years without cathedrals or megachurches, we can handle a few weeks or months.
It's been a long time since I posted anything about Linux-based operating systems. Jack Wallen presents two helpful articles ... the five best Linux desktop distributions, and the rise of the Linux distribution-specific laptop. (Here's mine, still going strong.)

While we're in the world of computers, I'm going to try Wess Daniels' recommended research-oriented notetaking application, Roam Research.



Megan and Rebecca Lovell, known together as Larkin Poe:

26 March 2020

To Russia with love

According to a joke circulating in Russia during the 1998 financial crisis, two bankers are conversing:

“How did you sleep last night?”
“Like a baby…”
“How could that be??!!”
“Every hour I woke up and cried!”

(Source.)



Judy and I were talking today about what's helping us personally get through the current worldwide public health emergency. I realized that one of the gifts Russia gave us in our years there (2007-17) was an appreciation for the value of humor in maintaining sanity. Not all crisis-related humor is benign, but at best it never minimizes suffering or belittles anyone; instead (as Tom Nicholson points out) its appeal depends on the ways we're all experiencing these challenges together.

People outside Russia might not realize that Russians are simultaneously dealing with at least three big realities. In addition to COVID-19, they're suffering from declines in the financial markets in connection with the fall of oil prices (a crisis which itself is exacerbated by the pandemic), and the brazen constitutional coup engineered by Vladimir Putin, by which he is in the process of awarding himself a fifth and sixth term as president. He would be the first to argue that, if the popular referendum approves his constitutional amendments, he would have to earn those terms by winning elections, but few doubt that he will win any election he contests.

In any case, all of these situations are dead serious, and at the same time, all of them present endless possibilities for humorists. You may recognize some of these examples as originally coming from outside Russia, but, home-grown or imported, here's how Russians presented them:



(Left) "Do you have any summer travel plans?" "In June and July we'll be home, but in August we want to go out to the store."
(Right) Going to work. Specialists recommend observing your daily rituals, even if you don't step out of your home because of the coronavirus.

(Left) In the USA, sales of weapons have gone up sharply. In Russia, sales of condoms have gone up sharply. In a nutshell, that sums up the differences in mentality of the two nations.
(Right) If the traffic cops stop you... [Sign] I have the coronavirus.

(Left) Doctor's advice: To prevent coronavirus infection, eat five garlic bulbs a day. Of course this isn't the least bit effective, but those around you will keep their distance.
(Right) Newscaster: "The ruble's value has fallen so that Russians can't travel abroad and get sick from the coronavirus." My dad: "Great -- a versatile approach."

"Are we going to be at this forever?"
"I don't know. I'm not interested in politics."


Another important thing we learned from Russians, to risk a stereotype: to live in the moment. This is not an argument against planning ahead and anticipating opportunities for change, but it does mean living attentively in the present, appreciating and enjoying what is right before our very eyes, cherishing our relationships and blessings. If we can't be present where we are (to borrow from the title of Douglas Steere's lecture On Being Present Where You Are), what will we be able to bring to the hypothetical future?

From Sarah Masen's "Carry Us Through"
At the beginning of one academic year, the leaders of our institute in Elektrostal gathered the faculty together and told us very plainly that the very existence of the institute continued to be threatened by unreasonable regulations and capricious enforcement, and that, among other things, we had to observe all record-keeping requirements minutely. Carelessness on the part of any of us could endanger everyone. I think we left that meeting discouraged and fearful of the tense months facing us. But as soon as I stepped into the classroom, wrote my first gap-fill exercise on the chalkboard, and greeted the students as they entered the classroom for our first meeting of the year, I was overwhelmed by gratitude for their trust, humor, curiosity, and boundless good will. We set to work.

I've written before about the Russian word normal'no and its enormous range, from "OK" to "the usual misery" -- and of course, like many Russian words, it can be used entirely ironically. In this pandemic season, the comforting power of the word (don't worry overmuch: sooner or later, everything will be normal'no) comes back to me.

If it were not for the pandemic, I would be in Russia this very day. Michael Eccles of Friends World Committee for Consultation and I had spent months planning a trip to visit Moscow Friends, only to have our plans thwarted by the novel coronavirus. I'm sad but not distracted -- there's much to do here, plenty to appreciate, plenty to be vigilant about in this moment. It's a comfort to notice that there's a big piece of Russia in my heart, helping me to cope.



Friends World Committee for Consultation provides a very partial list of online Quaker meetings for worship. Should yours be on the list? (This is not a rhetorical question -- churches and formats vary in their ability to absorb visitors not known to the worshipping community.) Contact information is in the introductory paragraphs.

The coronavirus in Russia ... the view from The Moscow Times.

A rich case study in Russian education and cross-cultural challenges: The demise of Moscow's Protestant university.

Faded records tell the story of school segregation in Virginia.

In his post, Without Assurance, Mike Farley quotes Jennifer Kavanagh: "... Faith is not about certainty, it is about trust...."



Another version of last week's song, "Needed Time."

12 March 2020

Stress test

I was 38 years old when I flunked my first stress test. It all started with pain that I felt doing aerobic exercises. The doctor put me on a treadmill, wired me up, and increased the treadmill speed until I said "uncle" or some variation thereof. She then referred me to a cardiologist, who examined me with a variety of expensive machines and could not find anything wrong with me.

Ten years later, something similar happened, only this time I was working in a very stressful environment. One busy evening I was running back and forth between two locations, one upstairs and one downstairs, when suddenly I found myself dropping into a chair and almost fainting. After resting, I went home to a normal sleep ... after sending an e-mail to a doctor describing my symptoms. (That e-mail is now a family legend.) After reprimanding me for using e-mail to report coronary distress, my doctor ordered another stress test. Again I flunked. This time at the end of the process I was the proud owner of a Cordis Velocity® stent, which has (apparently) served me well to this very day.

A stress test is not fun. It subjects the body to measured amounts of excess stress, with the calculation that the strain it causes will aid diagnosis without unduly harming the patient. This diagnostic opportunity is the hidden blessing -- maybe the only blessing -- that I see in that global stress test we know as the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic.

Tyron Siu/Reuters via New York Times.  
Despite what conspiracy theorists say, no Western agents of russophobia, anti-Trump media, or other plotters developed this novel coronavirus. It apparently has the same genesis as countless other viruses in human history, some of which have wreaked similar havoc. It spreads in ways similar to other viruses as well, by contact with respiratory droplets from infected people. Because a typical infected person may spread the disease to several others, the progress of the disease is exponential until people learn to stop giving the virus opportunities to spread. Although much research needs to be done on specific features, treatments, and prevention, nothing about this current pandemic is unprecedented or particularly mysterious.

I don't mean to minimize anything. Once infected, most patients recover, but it's a considerably more dangerous virus than a typical flu, especially if the patient already is vulnerable for one reason or another. (Again, see this WHO site.) But, aside from the medical questions, what are we learning about ourselves and our societies from the stress imposed on us by the coronavirus? Or to put it another way, what stress tests have we already flunked?

Here in the USA, national leadership has utterly failed to follow the paradoxical rule that governs all unpredictable national emergencies: the more serious the response, the better the outcome. Facing an epidemic, people who are told to "relax, it's no big deal" because "the alarmists just want to hurt Trump" -- and who therefore do relax -- will just make a situation of exponential growth that much harder to control. Yes, leadership also needs to avoid panicking people, but that requires telling us all convincingly that we're in it together and that the government is exercising competent stewardship over all the resources required in the emergency. Diagnosis: leadership incompetence. Those not in the personality cult of Trump are, to put it bluntly, not surprised, but now everyone can see how high the stakes are in maintaining competence and confidence.

The existing health care financing "system" has also flunked miserably. A single-payer system would allow the whole health care community to focus on prevention and treatment. In the current emergency, that would have saved politicians countless hours now devoted to negotiating complicated and controversial workarounds, all the while posturing to look good to the incredulous and anxious audience of voters and potential patients. At the end of the negotiations we may cobble together something like a centrally-financed response for this specific emergency, which will probably fall apart completely once the emergency ends.

Finally (at least for tonight!), we see how fragile our global trade and financial markets have come to be. Global actors have never been veritable angels, but Trump and his nationalist counterparts in other countries are weakening the post-WWII ideal of collective security almost beyond recognition. In its place they basically advocate the law of the jungle, however dressed up it might be in Stephen Miller-style pretensions. Markets, left unchecked by an ethic of investment in each other's well-being, inevitably devour anything that gets in the way of profits. Russia and OPEC may be in an oil price war, but for both entities, the ultimate enemy might be the USA's petroleum industry, who will (they hope) be driven into bankruptcy by low oil prices before Russia's reserves run out. Ordinary people in all countries affected by this price war are the last to be consulted and the first to suffer as markets contract.

As we monitor these diagnostic indicators, I hope that Christians, among others, will retain the ability to care for the individuals and communities involved without getting sucked into xenophobia, conspiracy theories, and passive despair. Examining the world's powers and principalities through a godly lens, we see that there is nothing going on that is unprecedented or particularly mysterious. It's just a virus, stressing us badly at the moment, impelling us (if we're faithful) to restore a vision of right stewardship of resources, and right investments in each other's well-being.



Until a couple of days ago, I was expecting to leave on Monday for my first trip back to Russia since Judy and I left our Elektrostal jobs and apartment, back in October 2017. I still plan to make that trip, but not until something resembling normalcy returns.



TOP: "There's a woman president in Estonia. What do you
say: can a woman become president in Russia?"
BOTTOM: "Of course not. I'm not a woman."
(Found on Facebook.)
Martin E. Marty explores the space between decline and renewal in American Christianity.

What about the theory that Trump is an instrument of Christian righteousness?

The Russian constitutional amendments: what will it mean to insert God into the document? And how did the amendment process give V.V. Putin two more terms of power despite his repeated claims that he wanted no such thing?

For Russians, humor is a key factor in the will to survive. Back in 2011, when Putin and Medvedev revealed that the latter, in serving as president for four years (2008-12), was saving the place for Putin to serve a third and fourth term, one of our students said out loud in class, "Putin again? By the time he leaves office I'll be 32 years old! I might as well shoot myself now." Turns out, she'll be 44!



A different kind of blues, from the film Horowitz in Moscow. I am so fascinated by the faces of the audience.