faith in humanity

I have recently decided that I firmly dislike the statement “this restores my faith in humanity!”  “Don’t I like having my faith in humanity restored?” you may ask.  The response I have discovered within myself; I don’t think I ever need to lose it.

You could spend your entire day surrounding yourself with the Negative; stories of war, rape, suicide, hatred, greed and depravation, and become despairingly cynical and apathetic.  You could also spend your entire day surrounded by the Positive; stories of kindness, selflessness, creativity, community, inspiration and ingenuity, and become blissfully ignorant and apathetic.

Your intention will determine the information and stories that are drawn to your awareness, as well as your reaction.  But the world is complex, and includes the depths of tragedy, the exhilaration of benevolence, and the mediocrity in between.

This complexity is woven into everything.  If you own an Apple product, it may have been made by a 12 or 13-year-old, or someone who committed suicide because of conditions of working for Foxconn.  That FDA-approved piece of “food” product you just fed yourself and your family is slowly but surely creating cancer and other issues within your bodies, because the people in the FDA once worked for the corporations they are supposed to be regulating, and don’t actually ensure safety.  That thing you bought at Walmart or Target was made overseas by someone who is underpaid, has taken jobs from the U.S., and the dollars spent on it went to further support the Monopolies we are allowing to take over our country.  We can’t afford to buy local because we have allowed corporations to market things we don’t need to us at prices no small business can afford to compete with.  There are so many things we can access that are pleasing to us and seem good, but whose roots are growing in injustice and exploitation.

It’s depressing.  The Big Picture’s roads all seem to lead to systemic and systematic oppression.  Sometimes it overwhelms me, makes me want to give up on the world, and give up on my place in it.  Sometimes I just want to get in bed and never get out.

But the Small Pictures are what keep my faith in humanity.

The Small Pictures are limited, but faithful.  Habitat for Humanity can’t build and sell houses to everyone who needs one, but it can benefit many families and individuals who would never have qualified for a normal mortgage.  Homeless and women’s shelters can’t help every homeless person or every woman in an abusive situation, but they help many people who would otherwise be stuck.  Intentional communities don’t always work long-term, but the folks choosing to live in them and invest in one another are a reminder that we don’t have to resign ourselves to the individualism of the American bootstrap myth.  Every dog and cat won’t be rescued into a good home, but there are many animals who have been adopted because of the dedication of people working at shelters and as advocates for adoption.  Everyone won’t start to buy local, but as the options increase, so will the number of times that people like you and I choose to go to the farmer’s market instead of Walmart or Food Lion, or choose to buy from a festival vendor or a local artisan instead of going to the mall.

All of that to say this:  there are many reasons to always keep “faith in humanity”.

The bad things that happen do not negate the good.  Your faith in humanity should not exist for a few seconds a week when you see an inspiring story, and then turn to unbelief the rest of the time.  Nor should you ignore the many and varied wrongs that keep humanity in a cycle of oppression and oppressing, in favor of only idyllic stories.  Everyone has to find his or her own balance, and I hope (and urge) that the common goal will be to avoid apathy.

We may not be able, on an individual scale, to change the entire world.  But we can advance change!  It may just be in your local community; it may even just be one family or one person you know, but each of us can be the change we want to see.  I can’t get everyone in Chatham County into safe, decent, affordable housing, but I did recently have a part in helping three families move in the next step toward homeownership.  One of those families (a single mom with two sons) has been living for 6 years in a trailer that is literally falling apart.  In the next few months, they will work together with Habitat staff and volunteers on their house, and they will purchase and move into a home of their own.  That’s real.  That’s tangible.  That changes lives.  And that is humanity working together for good.

I think perhaps a better phrase than "restoring" our faith in humanity should be this.  “This reminds me of my faith in humanity!”

perspective sucks

Once upon a time I thought it sucked when I had to leave a beautiful day to go inside for a couple of hours of class.

Then I graduated and joined the working world....and realized that only a few hours at a time was a luxury.

...but at least I don't have to do homework once I leave the office.

on collective sorrow

Something I read tonight suddenly jolted my memory---tomorrow is September 11th, tomorrow is the 11th anniversary of that...that day.

So many thoughts flood my consciousness at once.

First, that day, and my own memory of where I was, and the rush of realizing I was joining all the events in American history that sorrowfully joined the collective consciousness.

Second, a conversation in Spain, explaining to a French friend the difference between the political implications that came next versus the actual emotions that most Americans felt on that day, and will always feel when remembering.

I left my room (too many thoughts) and had a conversation with my housemate, D, who is 53 years old, and my attempts to understand what was going through my head were complemented by her thoughts melded with mine.  She remembers watching the Challenger, and to me, it is a distant-vivid thought, just as the Kennedy shooting, that happened before I had life or memory.  But her input expanded my understanding....I had never thought about the fact that the teacher astronaut had children who would have been watching as she, encased by a bullet in the sky, moved upward into glory (who wouldn't take the opportunity to go into space?  You're as likely to die in the car...), only to be enveloped by flames.  I didn't realize...that her kids literally watched her blow up.  Just as the Kennedy's watched their father and husband (and the country watched their president) have his brains blown out.

Just as an entire country watched so many people have skyscrapers collapse upon and consume them.

Just as I watched (live) the second tower blow to flames and smoke as the second plane hit it.

Just as I heard Tom Brokaw say (painful realization that even the suave, composed newscaster was broken in that moment) "Oh my God".

So D and my conversation moved to space, and I thought of Neil Armstrong, and of nationalism, and of the good things that happen despite it, that are enveloped but not consumed.

Because I can't quite separate all those things....the raw emotion and pain I feel when I remember September 11th, every time I think of that day and shut it out because it hurts (to the point that I didn't remember it was tomorrow, don't think I ever want to remember), versus the understanding that it was used and twisted for nationalism and for excuses, and that it bears to much of the non-American world the sense of taint that comes with excuses for belligerence and pugnacity.  

I can't think about the day without the bad and the bad, those two things.  And when I think about myself thinking about them, I become self-aware and wonder if I'm selfish.  What about the people who lost people to the attacks, to the flames, to the steel, to the planes?  What would they think of my thoughts?

As a part of the collective consciousness, this all-American "I remember where I was when...", I don't know what to think about that.  It feels good to belong, honestly.  It felt good in high school when we broke it down, when a teacher remembered where he was when Kennedy was shot.  But it feels guilty to associate that feeling with "good"...  It's a sense of belonging, and despite having spent a lot of time rejecting nationalism, I have realized that I am an American, culturally and in other senses, and I can't help that, and I don't need to be ashamed of it.  So belonging to another bit of culture is just a part of it...and it doesn't lessen the sense of sorrow I feel for the people who lost people to the attacks.  It just means that I'm trying to be aware of it for what it is....a part of collective cultural conscious.  So I'm overwhelmed remembering that day, and imagining the horrific deaths and struggles, and the horrendous mourning afterward for those left behind....and I am ashamed at the nationalism that allowed for xenophobia, because the women and children and men who loved those terrorists must also have experienced sorrow.

But just as we felt justified in going to an undefined War against Terror because it hurt so much to have our people burnt and crushed in towers of steel, those people felt justified to attack people they viewed as cruel, systematic imperialists.  So what do I do?  What does anyone do?  All I can think is to deal with the thoughts and emotions as they come, recognize things for what they are, and hope that I understand something about myself each time and will keep working toward a better world.

So, about an hour away from the beginning of the 11th anniversary of a terribly sad day, I want to get rid of the baggage and guilt and anger.  Once upon a time, a baby Century was disrupted for a nation that had forgotten what it was like to be disrupted, and it is a day that I think I will mourn, when it comes, until I die.

And I hope that the people who lost people to that day have found that life is a journey bringing them healing and new meaning, and that the day does not overwhelm them.

Hello, Fall



I made this a week or so ago, and for some reason just left it on the computer.  I think I forgot that I had a blog, briefly.  So here you go, internet.  Yet another thing that my head thought was funny enough to put into picture form.  Actually, I imagined a whole scene of these, with Miss Steak walking away from all manners of mashed meats...."What am I, Haggis"?  "What am I, Morcilla?"  Eventually, I have a feeling that she will meet Bacon (meat bacon?) and never look back.

It felt like fall yesterday, and when I was on my way to work today.  Right now I don't know how it feels, because I am inside.  But I assume it is still marvelous.

The thing about North Carolina is that I no longer feel I can get excited about the cooler days and start thinking that the weather has shifted and Fall is here, because they last two seconds before another set of hot days come.  Fall consists of a handful of perfect weather, then mostly a mixture of hot and humid (summer just will not give up the ghost) and torrential rain days.  Then all of a sudden it's winter.  Which, last year it wasn't really even ever winter...which was disappointing because the only reason there should be cold weather is if it is truly cold and I can wear all my cute tights and winter coats and not feel sweaty.

The other thing about North Carolina is that locals love to complain about the weather.  Which cracks me up...we all know it's dang humid and miserable and buggy in the summer, but people seem to savor the right to complain about it.

Probably time to end this break and keep doing important stuff, like looking out the window and wishing I wasn't at work.

on evangelism

I was just reminded of one part of the church teaching I have heard for so many years, that it is important to share Christianity with people not only because it is important, but because we live in a post-Christian society, and people today haven't even ever heard the Gospel.  "We can't just assume people know the Gospel!  A lot of people don't even know John 3:16 anymore!  We have to actively be sharing our faith!"

But actually, my impression is that most people in our culture here in the US of A have actually heard the Gospel before.  They may understand it in ways that Christians disagree with, but they are in fact usually familiar with the basic concepts of Christianity.

(This is what sparked my thoughts, by the way.  Specifically, the panel after the Scientology bit, about halfway down the page.)

Soooo... if you go out thinking that you  need to share the Gospel every chance you get, you're going to end up in conversations where you are probably either nervous and unprepared, or just repeating a bunch of the perfect answers and bullet points that you've memorized.  And you are probably not Spirit led, and you are going to give information like a tract; either a poorly-written one, or a boring, cliche one.

And the person you talk to will think that you are stupid.  He or she will think that you are blindly following a religion, and will either laugh at the fact that you don't even know how to properly explain what you believe, or laugh at the fact that you had to memorize it from bullet points, and will make assumptions about the rest of what you must believe and be intolerant of.  He or she may pity you, because he or she knows that you aren't having any fun because you feel guilty if you do or think anything that doesn't have to do with God, he or she they will probably walk away feeling at least as shut off from Christianity as before what you tried to tell them.

I'm not saying this happens every time.  There are good spiritual conversations that can come out of awkward situations.  I have heard plenty of stories about faith-sharing that end out well!  (That's my brief disclaimer so you don't start clamoring with all those stories and not get the point I'm trying to make.)

But, I have also heard stories that were painfully awkward, and have had many friends that are not Christians, and have had very different experiences with them when we have spiritual conversations that are honest and two-sided, whenever the time is right, rather than trying to force the conversation a certain way.

What I want to say is more or less this.

STOP!

Reassess your methods!  Analyze your ideology of the world!

I am saying what many, many traditional church people need to hear. The mark of modern evangelism is an unwillingness to truly listen, it is marked by just wanting to talk, and it becomes worrying about putting conversion notches on belts.*  This simply causes the majority of people who are not Christians to continue thinking that it is a religion that is flawed, over-institutionalized, and full of stupid people who willingly disconnect their brains and allow themselves to be fed whatever their pastor cooks up.

It is hard for a lot of Christians to even start to think about changing their methods, because there are so many places where tradition has gotten mixed in with the good stuff.  Tradition, when it was created, was not tradition, it was modern.  And it was good for the time and the world it was created for, but when the world changes, sometimes methods have to change, too.  And that includes the methods used by religious people to relate to the world they live in.

I don't have any big, perfect answers, just really one very simple guideline:

Listen.



*(I know the notches on the belt may sound unfair and mean, because Christians in this share-the-Gospel-to-everyone mentality have a good-hearted end goal, for everyone to go to Heaven and stuff...but I think the BeltNotch metaphor has a lot of critical value that needs to be considered thoughtfully.  In evangelism, what does it look like to value quantity over quality, conversion over compassion?  When is the hurry to get people in the door to the parabolic feast actually about a Christian's Good Works, rather than about the people outside in the dark?)

Pretty much how I've felt about every Bloody Mary I've tried