Engaging the Stranger

Wisconsin's Concealed Carry Law - Part II

In part one of this reflection, I described how fear based legislation like the Concealed Carry Law promotes distrust among our citizens. This distrust poisons and disables the public arena, an arena that is essential to the functioning of a healthy democracy. I concluded by saying that opposition alone to such legislation isn't sufficient. We must reclaim and revitalize the public arena by promoting positive affiliations among strangers.

It is tempting to assume that such efforts require organizing skill and money. It is true that public efforts can be effective. Recently the cable channel, Comedy Central, hosted a program where Moslem, Jewish and Christian stand-up comedians focussed their wits on misunderstandings among these cultural groups. Organizations in a number of American cities have sponsored dialogues on divisive community issues. Interfaith groups seek to promote greater understanding among people of different religious traditions. Organizations like Jim Wallis' Sojourners Community and Rabbi Michael Lerner's Tikkun urge Christians and Jews to work together to oppose unjust systems that oppress the poor. Nonpartisan organizations like ¨Reach Out Wisconsin” are dedicated to fostering respect and understanding in politics during an era when the left and the right seem so divided.

Important as these organized efforts are, we need to recognize that large scale organizations by themselves, will not restore trust in the public arena. Democracy functions best when everyday people, people like you and me, involve themselves. Such involvement allows us to engage one another in all our diversity rather than characterizing one another in terms of one dimensional stereotypes. In the final analysis, such engagement also helps us to know ourselves more completely.

It is important to recognize that engaging people in the public arena doesn't require an organized program on our part. Rather, it involves a change of heart. Our society is filled with interesting individuals, and we come into contact with them daily. It's a matter of recognizing the opportunity and seizing the moment.

I will share a few such moments in my life to peak your imagination:

My wife, Jean, and I have a regular Friday afternoon date at a local buffet. One afternoon, as we were talking, a fellow in the booth behind us interrupted our conversation with the question, “What is the meaning of life for you?” I turned around to see a man and a woman holding a small baby. The man introduced himself and his family. They were visiting the United States from Syria, where they run an English language institute. What followed was a fascinating conversation with strangers who live in a culture different from our own. We have now become facebook friends. Furthermore, this brief encounter heightened my concern about the uprising in Syria, for I could imagine these people trying to survive in that turmoil.

Jean and I have become acquainted with a number of the other “regulars” who eat at this buffet on Fridays. They come from a variety of racial, ethnic and economic situations. Some people I greet, and others I tend to avoid. This was true of one fellow in particular. He dressed in scruffy clothes. He mades racist comments, and he could be surly. Over time I began talking with him. To my surprise, I learned that he is a PhD scientist who is incredibly knowledgeable about politics. He is also an amazing story teller. True, he has his idiosyncrasies, but my life is richer because of him.

My sister, Sue, died last April. During her final months, my siblings and I stayed with her. In the process we got to know some wonderful people who loved her deeply. After her funeral, many of these folks provided us with housing and helped us clear out Sue's house. One family, in particular, was important because they had accepted Sue into their family like a daughter and sister. To thank them for their friendship, we invited them to dinner at a local restaurant. During the meal I shared my concern about the political situation in Wisconsin. One of the men across the table said quietly, “We are Republicans.” Needless to say, I quickly backed off from political discussions. To lighten the moment, others of the family said, “We loved Sue even though she was a Democrat.” Just think, if I had defined these dear and loving people merely by a political stereotype, I would have missed knowing them in our mutual love for Sue.

Last year I attended a rally opposing the amendment to the Wisconsin Constitution that would define marriage as only between a man and a woman. I stood next to a man from an evangelical Christian group who carried a sign saying that homosexuality is a sin. After the rally, I told him that I too was a Christian and that I favored extending the legal rights of married people to gay and lesbian couples. I told him that we may never agree on this issue but that I supported his right to express his views. The conversation continued and concluded with him saying, “You know sometimes we forget the God we worship in these situations. We are like planets circling the Sun who are so concerned about each other that we forget that we are both dependent on the sun.” We parted, “God blessing” each other knowing that we still disagreed on the gay and lesbian issue but having a deeper respect for one another.

I have been friends for a number of years with a woman who has lived in poverty her whole life. I got to know her as an organizer in a low income complex when I worked for MUM, now Madison-area Urban Ministry. Had I stereotyped her as “another poor person,” I would never have gotten to know her in her complexity. She is brilliant, widely read and an artist. Yet, her life experience has beaten her down.

Related to the above mentioned friend, I have a final story about my tendency to stereotype people, and thus to miss knowing them. While I was director of MUM, I was challenged by the chair of my board, a woman who was an executive in a local industry. As I was waxing eloquent about oppression of the poor by the powerful, she remarked, “Chuck you don't like rich people very much do you?” Caught with my assumptions down, I replied defensively, “That's not true. I know that there are good and bad among the rich and the poor.” She looked at me in the way she had of saying, “Come clean Chuck.” Finally, I had to admit to my unthinking bias against the wealthy.

Now that you have heard some of my stories, I wish I could hear yours. Perhaps you can share these stories with friends and family members. In so doing, you are helping to heal “We the People.”

I will close with a final observation. Our democracy, when it is functioning well, enables exchanges among citizens with all of their differences and complexities. As we engage, we bring together an array of resources that stimulate the creative processes that are needed to face the challenges of humanity.

I urge you to work in the political arena to promote the agendas that you value. In the process, recognize that those who oppose you are complex human beings like yourself, who are also committed to their political agendas. Acknowledge that they too have yearnings, fears and hopes.

Don't fall prey to the hate mongers who seek to disable our democratic process by promoting fear and distrust. Be suspicious of those who characterize strangers with one dimensional political, religious or ethnic stereotypes.

Engage people with curiosity and expectation. Nod at those you meet on a public street or in a retail store. Seek out someone you don't know at a holiday party, and introduce yourself. Join with others in cheering for your favorite sports team or in enjoying your favorite coffee shop or restaurant. Promote diversity of belief, race, age and life style in your faith community.

Our lives are too precious to live in fear. Our democratic institutions are too important to allow them to be hijacked by those who would manipulate us by characterizing the stranger as an enemy.

In this holiday season of sister/brotherhood, I wish you the gift of living with soul. Allow love of life in all its forms to fill you and bless you even as you bless others.

A Culture of Fear

Wisconsin's Concealed Carry Law - Part I 

November 1, 2011 marked the day that Wisconsin's Concealed Carry Law went into effect. This law allows anyone with a permit to carry concealed guns almost anywhere, including many public buildings.

Our congregation discussed this bill at length the Sunday before it took effect. We concluded that our building would be posted as a firearms free zone. Yet even after this decision I felt distressed and depressed.

Parker Palmer, in his latest book, Healing the Heart of Democracy¹, says that our hearts are broken by the pain and uncertainty in our society. He then describes two kinds of heart break. Some of us have hearts that have been hardened by our personal experiences. Hardened hearts, when broken, splinter into thousands of fragments that seed our society with shards of violence.

“Others of us are able,” as Parker says, “to stand in the gap.” These have hearts that are able to absorb the pain and to hold the polarized forces of society in a dynamic tension. These are people with soul. They have hearts that are more supple than brittle. Their hearts break open rather than splintering. People with hearts broken open experience their pain, perhaps more deeply than those with brittle hearts, because they are less able to participate in the “we” verses “they” hostilities in our society. These folk are like the Hindu man who broke up a fight, not because he sided with one or the other of the combatants, but because it was too painful for him to experience their antagonism and hatred.

Perhaps this is what bothers me about the Concealed Carry Law. This law is the natural successor to the law that allows Wisconsin citizens to carry hand guns. (Can you imagine trying to conceal a deer hunting rifle in your pant leg?) And hand guns, unlike hunting rifles, are designed to kill people and not wild animals.

I remember the argument used to promote passage of the hand gun law. It went something like this. “If you don't legalize handguns, only criminals will be able to carry them.” This slogan presupposes that our society, 'the real world,' is a dangerous place filled with 'strangers' who are criminals armed with weapons. There are, of course, some dangerous people in our society. But few of us will encounter them. In fact most people killed by hand guns are killed by someone they know.

So the danger of this legislation is not that violence will increase because citizens are carrying concealed weapons. The danger is the fear based attitude that is promoted in the legislation. Politicians of both parties motivate voters through fear rather than with facts. Legislation of this type, like these hand gun laws, erodes the very structures that we depend upon to secure our democracy. These democratic structures are those that encourage citizens to assemble, complete with their differences, to promote programs that support the public good. And the 'public' here is all the people, not just those who share one set beliefs or life styles.

I agree with those who claim that the safety of our nation is threatened. But I disagree with them in assessing the source of this threat. The threat comes not from outsiders like drug lords, organized gangs, radical Jihadists or homicidal citizens. The threat comes from within.

When we live our lives fearful of those who differ from ourselves, our hearts are hardened. In tough economic times, these hardened hearts are broken as people lose their jobs, their homes, and their savings. When unscrupulous people, like Bernard Madoff and wall street bankers, make millions of dollars at the expense of middle and lower income people, hearts hardened by fear shatter. Then "We the People" are unable to join together to deal with the crisis. Rather we blame and strike out at one another, particularly those who are different from ourselves. And, like a virus, this fear and animosity races through our communities giving rise to more fear and distrust of 'the stranger.'

Parker Palmer² describes how this virus of fear is a threat to our democracy. He points out that societies function in three arenas. First, there is the personal arena where we interact with our intimates. This is where our basic needs are met, the need for food, shelter, love and support. Then there is the political arena that is controlled by an interlocking set of powerful institutions and players. This is the arena where the formal institutions of government and commerce exist. Finally there is the public arena where we engage non-intimate acquaintances and strangers. This arena includes residential neighborhoods, schools, city streets and sidewalks, voluntary associations including religious organizations, clubs, civic and ethnic groups, public transportation, sports and other mass entertainment events, restaurants and coffee shops, museums and libraries, community markets and craft fairs, schools and universities, work places and digital media – the internet.

A robust public arena is essential to a healthy democracy. This is where “We the People” function. When we are threatened by those who differ from ourselves, the public arena is weakened. Totalitarian societies have anemic or nonexistent public arenas. In such societies, those in power dominate the political arena and more or less control people's private lives.

We are experiencing alarming trends in this direction in our own democracy³. The richest 10% of the US population control about 73% of the nation's wealth, with the richest 1% accounting for almost 35%. The bottom 90% control about 27% of US wealth. The housing crash likely had a further negative effect on on the bottom 90%, who have 65% of their wealth tied up in their homes, compared to the top 1% who have only 10% of their wealth comprised of housing. The actual distribution of US wealth in 2009 placed more than 80% of total wealth in the hands of the wealthiest 20%, with the least wealthy 40% having virtually no share.

In stating these statistics, I'm not arguing that all wealthy people are greedy and manipulative. Rather, I'm arguing that the erosion of the middle class in our society, coupled with fear of the stranger, erodes the public arena where our democracy functions. This strengthens the hand of those among the wealthy and powerful who wish to manipulate our democracy for personal gain.

For these reasons, it is important to oppose the implementation of legislation like the Concealed Carry Law. But opposition alone is not enough. We must also develop social practices and attitudes that promote positive affiliations among strangers thus strengthening the public arena. I will explore these positive potentials in part two of this reflection.

1 I want to credit Parker Palmer's book, Healing the Heart of Democracy for inspiring this reflection.

2 Healing the Heart of Democracy p 89 & following “Life in the Company of Strangers”

3 http://www.marketingcharts.com/direct/wealthiest-americans-dramatically-increase-income-16296/

The Tools of Fear Tao Te Ching Weapons are the tools of fear. A decent person will avoid them except in the direst necessity and, if compelled, will use them only with the utmost restraint.... Our enemies are not demons but human beings like ourselves. The decent person doesn't wish them personal harm. Nor do they rejoice in victory. How could we rejoice in victory and delight in the slaughter of people? Enter a battle gravely with sorrow and with great compassion as if attending a funeral. Source: circa 550 BCE

Goodbye Little Sister

Sue died at 9:20 am on April 21st, Maundy Thursday on the Christian calender. We, her sister, brothers and spouses, were with her when she died. Four hundred and eighty people attended her funeral. Family members read scripture and shared remembrances. The Sioux Empire Brass honored her with two numbers, and the organist played the Widor Toccata for the postlude.

It was a beautiful service, made more beautiful by the life Sue lived. Sue didn't blow her own horn, except when she played her French horn in the Sioux Empire Brass. Yet she impacted hundreds of people through her life. She was active in her local church. She served as Harry Krueger's right hand person in the Sioux Empire Brass. She counseled a multitude of children in the Sioux Falls middle and high school systems. She made people laugh with witty one liners and her funny stories about working with kids. She was a friend and confidant to many.

Yet love requires more from us than fond remembrances. Great love engenders great pain when the object of love suffers and dies. We, Sue's family, took turns living with her during the last four months of her life. We spent days with her in the hospital during her recuperation from surgery to remove the cancer in her intestine. We lived with her in her home after she was released from the hospital. I was privileged to be with her nearly six weeks as she battled the ravages of her disease. These were some of the most painful and rewarding times of my life.

When you cut to the chase, living and dying has more to do with the little things of life than the big events. As I re-live my days with Sue, these little things are most poignant.

Sue was a physically active person. When she was well, we would bike the loop around Sioux Falls. I remember the night we joined with others for a moonlight ride. We threaded glow light strips in the spokes of our wheels. A little boy shouted, “Mom, look,” as we rode past his house. With darkness enveloping us, we were specters in a moon-lit fairyland. It seemed we were standing still while the trail moved under us.

During my last stay with Sue, we walked a portion of that bike trail and reminisced. We also walked around the falls for which Sioux Falls is named. As Sue weakened these trips were limited first to walks around the block and then to strolls on the sidewalk in front of her house. Finally she was able to walk only a few steps outside her back door before she was fatigued.

I picture her now sitting in her favorite chair, a Lazy Boy situated in the corner of her living room. Some evenings we would watch TV together. Other times she would read. Oftentimes I would sit with her as she dozed, her breathing becoming more and more labored.

I remember changing the bottle on her feeding tube when she was recuperating from intestinal surgery. I think back on the times I filled her water glass. I recall washing our clothes, running to the drug store for medications, and cutting up chicken and veggies for stir fry. I remember driving to Hardees to buy a broiled chicken sandwich because that was the only thing that appealed to her. Most of all, I remember her gratitude. “Thank you, thank you,” she said as I served her in these little ways. The depth of her gratitude was almost embarrassing.

Each evening Sue would prepare for bed. She slept propped up by pillows so she could breathe. After I helped situate her with the pillows and blankets, we would turn on the nite light and say a few prayers. Earlier in her illness, I prayed fervently for a miraculous cure from this dreadful disease. Sue too prayed for healing and wholeness. As she neared the time of her death, our prayers changed. I prayed for wholeness, not even knowing what I meant by this term. Sue prayed just for the ability to breathe more easily and to sleep through the night.

Most mornings I would go for a walk. When I returned, Sue would get up, use the bathroom and dress. She then would make her bed. One morning she asked me to help because she was too weak to do it alone. Finally, she was unable to help at all. I made it by myself.

Prayer was a central part of Sue's life. She attended our last family gathering at Christmas. I asked her if we might pray for her healing. She agreed. My brother led the prayer as we gathered around her. The love and anguish in the room was palpable.

As we prayed, I realized that the difference in our spiritualities was of little import. We spanned the spectrum from charismatic-evangelical to agnostic. Yet we were united in our outpouring of love for Sue.  Jesus said, “Love God with everything in you, and love your neighbor as you love yourself.” Buddha spoke of compassion. How different our world would be if we were motivated by this kind of love and compassion every minute of our lives.

It is agonizing to see someone you love suffer. Yet it is also very real. There is no time for euphemisms. I asked Sue if she feared dying. She said, “No, but I hope I don't have to suffer.”

People kept coming by the house. Harry and Phil Krueger, who were like surrogate parents, came every day. They made light conversation, but I could see the pain in their eyes.

Sue and I attended the “Living With Cancer Group” at her church each Wednesday. These folks were amazing. Joyce, a parish nurse, led the group. We read a devotional piece and discussed it in terms of our lives. The conversations seemed trivial and mundane at first, until I began to understand the subtext of each meeting. These people were facing death while living day-by-day. They seemed to be saying, “My life will go on.” “I will engage every moment.”

The end of Sue's life came as a surprise. I remember our last visit with her oncologist/surgeon, Dr. Maria Bell. Sue asked, “Are we nearing the time when you are going to tell me that there is no more you can do for me?” Dr. Bell said, “Yes, you had better consider hospice care.” When we returned home, Sue said, “That was like a kick in the gut.” “I knew the cancer would get me, but I didn't think it would be this soon.” We hugged. I had no words.

The following Wednesday Sue attended her last Living With Cancer meeting. Joyce asked her to begin the sharing. She told folks that she was going into hospice. Once again these people had to face the loss of one of their own. They expressed love and concern for Sue, but there was no huge outpouring of emotion. Perhaps it was all too close. Joyce was incredible as she facilitated the sharing. Even at this time, the focus was on living with cancer.

Sue's life continues after her death. Some say she lives with Jesus in heaven. Others say that her spirit is present and accessible to those who love her.

It's strange, but Sue is most present for me in her absence. I spent time in her house shortly after her death. I fixed a meal and did the dishes, much as I had done those last months of her life. Yet now Sue was gone. And in this absence, she was strangely present in a most powerful way.

Finally, Sue is present in the in love she shared with others. At her funeral service, love permeated the church. Strangers, who loved Sue, hugged one another. The gathering after the service was like a family reunion. This shared love was a force that lit up the room. Ray Charles would call this Soul.

Yes Sweet Sue, you live on. But still, little sister, I miss you.

POLITICAL PROTESTS IN WISCONSIN The Way of Compassion - Part 3 of 3

Loving enemies and living non-attachment are spiritual practices. As with physical training, we engage a spiritual practice to develop the underdeveloped parts of ourselves. Since the pattern of the Human Being is newly emerging, it needs to be developed. When viewed in this light, the protests at the Capitol are training opportunities in the art of practical compassion. This training will complement the emergence of the deep humanity in each of us.

Karen Armstrong, in her book, The Spiral Staircase, makes this observation about religion (p293):

The one and only test of a valid religious idea, doctrinal statement, spiritual experience, or devotional practice was that it must lead to practical compassion. If your understanding of the divine made you kinder, more empathetic, and impelled you to express this sympathy in concrete acts of loving-kindness, this was good theology....Compassion was the litmus test for the prophets of Israel, for the rabbis of the Talmud, for Jesus, for Paul, and for Muhammad, not to mention Confucius, Lao-tzu, the Buddha, or the sages of the Upanishads.

I can hear you saying,

“Pfeifer you're nuts. Why are you dragging religion into this discussion. What's going on in Wisconsin and in the budget deliberations in our nation's capitol is political not religious. These confrontations are political battles between conservative Republicans and liberal Democrats.”

And of course, you are correct. But the confrontations that we are experiencing in Wisconsin and which nearly shut down our national government, are caused by a profound polarization between two different belief systems. The combatants in these political wars stand by their positions with more zeal than do most members of religious communities. In a real sense, these confrontations bear a striking resemblance to religious wars of the past, except the weapons of this war are economic, political and legal rather than economic, theological and military.

In this context another quote from Karen Armstrong is relevant. She says (Spiral Staircase, p. 271):

The religious quest is not about discovering “the truth” or “the meaning of life” but about living as intensely as possible here and now. The idea is not to latch onto some superhuman personality or to “get to heaven” but to discover how to be fully human—hence the images of the perfect or enlightened man, or the deified human being.....Men and women have a potential for the divine, and are not complete unless they realize it within themselves.

Karen Armstrong's statement applies equally well to our political confrontations if one substitutes, in the quote above, “achieve a political visionary ideal” for “get to heaven” and “charismatic leader” for “deified human being.”  The restatement would read something like this:

Political engagement is not about discovering “the truth” or “the meaning of life” but about living as intensely as possible here and now. The idea is not to latch onto some superhuman personality or to “achieve a political visionary ideal” but to discover how to be fully human—hence the images of the enlightened person or the charismatic leader......Men and women have a potential for the divine, and are not complete unless they realize it within themselves.

As with religion, we have missed the boat on politics. We have concentrated too much energy on promoting “the truth” of our political positions and on the assumed future advantages of our chosen political world view. We have neglected to ask if the understanding and practice of our political ideology are making us kinder, more empathetic people. We have neglected to ask if these understandings and practices are impelling us to express this sympathy in concrete acts of loving-kindness. In other words: We have failed to consider whether or not people in the USA and in the world are better off because of our political theories (theologies) and actions. When judged by this standard, neither conservative nor liberal politics are manifesting in their most noble form.

This is where the rubber hits the road. This is where spirituality (or religion) and politics coalesce. Political engagement is a spiritual practice. It is a laboratory where we can experiment with activities that actually enhance the lives of people now, not in some idealized future.

This is why the practices of loving enemies and non-attachment are crucial in the political arena. Each one of us has the opportunity to live into our deeper humanity in the social/political situations in which we find ourselves. If we don't live into this potential, we will be less than complete. In this incompleteness, our politics will also be incomplete. They will continue to produce fear and suffering rather than hope and life.

So like the Magi, talmudic scholars, prophets, contemplatives, and mystics through the ages, we need to engage in practices that deepen our practical compassion, compassion that engages not only our friends and the marginalized, but also our enemies.

POLITICAL PROTESTS IN WISCONSIN (Part 2 of 3) - Transformation

Loving our enemies as a way to transformation is a process. So how might such transformation occur?

Walter Wink* argued that a new archetype, pattern or potential is emerging in humankind. He noted that Jesus identified this pattern in his own life when he referred to his actions as the Son of Man or Human Being.** When early Christians named Jesus, the Son of God, they saw this Human Being pattern only in Jesus. They could not recognize it as something evolving in all of humanity. (In psychological terms, Christians projected this potential onto Jesus and couldn't withdraw the projection.)

If Walter Wink is correct and this potential is an evolving potential within each of us, then we are much more than we think we are. (It should be noted that this potential is probably observable in Buddha, Muhammad and leaders of other spiritual traditions as well.) For this reason it is important to experiment with new ways of engaging our enemies. 

Discovering our deep Humanity is not mainly about belief but about practice. It's not about discovering “the truth” or trying to emulate some superhuman figure. It's about each of us living into our particular humanity with as much authenticity as possible. In a real sense, the exploration of ways we can love our enemies aids us in growing into our deeper humanity.

This process of “loving our enemies” and “praying for those who persecute us” is difficult. The old patterns of fear and domination are deeply embedded in our primitive brain, in the fight or flight response. It is “natural” to want to dominate and destroy our enemies. For this reason, we are tempted to turn nonviolent processes into tactics for domination. This means that our attitudes are very important. If the processes described in Part 1 are used merely as clever tactics to defeat our enemies, they will ultimately prove destructive.

If the women in South Africa had stood naked before the bulldozers with sneers on their faces taunting the men driving the bulldozers, they probably would have been killed.

If those participating in the prayer vigils at the Capitol had sung and prayed while whispering among themselves that Governor Walker and the Republican legislators couldn't possibly be people of faith, the vigils would have been tarnished. Such prayer vigils would have been much like the religious observances that the prophet Amos condemned (Amos 5:21) when he quoted Yahweh as saying, “I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.”

Loving enemies is not an emotional response. Rather, it is an act of volition and trust. We decide to treat our enemies as we treat our friends. We honor their positions even if we don't agree with them. We try to understand their hopes and fears. We trust that such living is more in tune with the Cosmos than is the dynamic of domination and fear.

There is a Native American saying: “Walk a mile in another man's moccasins before you criticize him.” When I was director of Madison-area Urban Ministry, we sponsored a number of dialogue sessions on controversial issues like abortion, the death penalty and homosexuality. We met over a meal. Participants were urged to tell personal stories describing how they arrived at their positions on these issues. But they were not allowed to argue the merits of their position. 

As I listened to the stories of people whose views were different from my own; I thought “If I had had that person's life experience, I might hold their view as well.” Most of us left these dialogues holding the same positions we had when we entered. Yet, we left with a deeper understanding and appreciation for those with different positions. These engagements deepened our humanity.

Buddha also had something to say on this matter. He warned against attachment, either positive or negative, because attachment leads to suffering. He advocated “The Middle Path” which means being neutral, upright, and centered. “It means to investigate and penetrate the core of life and all things with an upright, unbiased attitude.... It is concerned with the relationship between thoughts and behavior, and the relationship between behavior and its consequences.”***

The non-attachment that Buddha advocated was not a disinterested detachment. Buddha was intensely concerned about human suffering. He spent the last 45 years of his life sharing his insights. This intense sensitivity to suffering is true for many Buddhists. Joan Chittister tells the story of a Buddhist man who happened upon two other men fighting. He broke up the fight, not because he sided with either man. He broke up the fight because it was too painful for him to see them fighting.

Non-attachment is a non-biased approach to life. In the case of the protests at the Wisconsin State Capitol, a non-biased approach would free us to look at all the possibilities for ending the stalemate in ways that benefit all people. Like loving our enemies, non-attachment provides a fertile ground for third-way alternatives to the present polarities.

When we follow Jesus' advice to love our enemies or engage Buddha's practice of non-attachment, we are more open to out-of-the-box solutions to the impasse. These practices are transformative. They may not transform the enemy, but they certainly will transform those who engage in them. And we all know that a change in the attitude and position of one party in a conflict unalterably changes the dynamics of the conflict. This shift enables the possibility for a transformation in the attitudes and actions of all involved.

If we, who oppose Governor Walker's tactics and his proposed budget for the State of Wisconsin, base our actions on love for him and those who support him, we may initiate processes of transformation that have powerful implications for our state and nation. 

* The Human Being: Jesus and the Enigma of the Son of the Man, by Walter Wink 

** Many scholars note that Jesus never referred to himself as the Son of God but as the Son of Man, more accurately “the Son of the Man” or “Human Being”. These references can be divided into two groups. The references in the first group clearly equate the Son of the Man with the Christ of Christianity. (e.g. John 1:51 “...you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”) Many scholars believe that these passages accrued as the early church developed. The other group of nine passages are more likely close to Jesus' own words. [(Mk 2:10, Mtt 9:6, Lk 5:24) S of M has authority to forgive sins; (Mk 2:28, Mt 12:8, Lk 6:5) S of M is Lord of the Sabbath; (Mtt 11:19, Lk 7:34) S of M came eating and drinking. They said a glutton, drunkard, friend of tax collectors and sinners; (Mtt 12:32, Lk 12:10) Those speaking a word against the S of M will be forgiven; but one who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven; (Mtt 8:20, Lk 9:58) S of M has no place to lay his head; (Mk 8:31, Lk 9:22) S of M must suffer many things; (Mk 9:31) S of M will be delivered into the hands of men; (Mk 10:45, Mtt 20:28) S of M came not to be served but to serve; (Lk 19:10) S of M came to seek and save the lost.] These are the passages that Walter Wink argues are referring not only to the Human Being in Jesus but also to that Human Being potential in all of humanity.

*** “Buddhism, the Middle Path” - (http://www.buddhanet.net/cbp2_f4.htm)

POLITICAL PROTESTS IN WISCONSIN (Part 1 of 3)-Loving Our Enemies

Several weeks ago Jean and I participated in a rally at the Wisconsin State Capitol to protest Governor Scott Walker's budget. This budget would eviscerate unions, damage public schools, and further burden the poor and elderly. Police estimated the crowd at more than 100,000.

Jean and I walked nearly a mile from the first available parking space to the Capitol. Cars were parked everywhere. It reminded me of the atmosphere at a Wisconsin Badger football game. People thronged downtown Madison. They packed the grassy slopes of the Capitol grounds. They filled the streets of the Capitol Square. They walked up and down State Street.

High school and college age youth mixed with senior citizens. Parents with children in tow marched beside union member - police in blue uniforms, fire fighters in raincoats and helmets, union locals sporting colored tee-shirts. Farmers drove their tractors around the square, one pulling a manure spreader sporting a sign that indicated displeasure with the bill.

People in costume added color to the throng. A large panda bear wore a shirt proclaiming “Pandas for Badgers.” A man carried a toaster with a figure of Governor Walker protruding from the bread slot. His sign read, “Walker, you're toast.” A group of older women, The Raging Grannies, wore crazy hats and dresses while singing protest songs. Uncle Sam, his mouth sealed with duck tape, paraded with a skull on his hat. A woman carried a picture of Gov. Walker as a string puppet with the label “Koch Industries Inc.”

Protest signs were everywhere:

“Care about education.”

“Arrest Scott Walker; he's peddling Koch.”

“We are Management, and we vote Labor.”

“Kill the Bill.” “When Injustice becomes law, rebellion becomes duty.”

“I'm a public employee, and I haven't felt this unwanted since I returned from Viet Nam.”

Guvner Scott Woker sayved Whisconsun Tacks paerrs munee, but I mis meye teechr.”

“A tyrant will always find a pretense for his tyranny.”

“Gov. Walker the whole world is watching.”

“This is what democracy looks like.”

“Love is the change. Be the change.”

“Recall Walker.” “

This rally, like the daily protests before and since, was serious and well organized. Yet it was not mean-spirited. Venders sold popcorn, cotton candy, hot dogs and other goodies. There was an air of celebration and politeness. Demonstrators, when prohibited from entering the Capitol, shouted, “Let us in. Please. Let us in. Please.” When police assisted demonstrators they yelled, “Thank you. Thank you.”

Yet all was not sweetness and light. Many view politics as warfare. Commentators on the left and on the right exchange acrimonious charges and countercharges. Wealthy men, motivated by greed, manipulate the political process for their own gain. I confess, I'm tempted to demonize those whom I oppose – Scott Walker, David Koch, Dick Cheney and others.

How is one to live with soul in these difficult and complex times? Jesus said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you because your heavenly parent gives sunlight to the evil and the good and sends rain on the just and unjust too. Be perfect (inclusive) as your heavenly parent is perfect (inclusive).” (Matt. 5:44,48 RSV)

Is this teaching just a spiritualized platitude, or does it have relevance today? Is it possible to live lives so focussed on God's inclusiveness that it affects our attitude toward the whole creation including our enemies?

Put in more contemporary terms, is it possible to be so enamored with the beauty and complexity of the Cosmos that we are able to affirm the statement by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.:

Forces that threaten to negate life must be challenged by courage, which is the power of life to affirm itself in spite of life’s ambiguities. This requires the exercise of a creative will that enables us to hew out a stone of hope from a mountain of despair? (from On Living Life)

Will the state of Wisconsin and our nation fare better if we who resist injustice love our enemies? It is difficult to believe that love will overcome fear and hatred when the powerful, whom we oppose, wish to destroy us. When I was the director of MUM (Madison-area Urban Ministry), our strategy was to block the efforts of those who would dominate us while searching for win-win options that benefited all parties. This is difficult when one is dealing with powerful opponents. Many times the best we could do was to expose their attempts to manipulate us.

Yet nonviolent resistance is a powerful tool in challenging injustice. Theologian, Walter Wink, argues that Jesus preached nonviolent resistance when he said, “If someone takes your coat, offer them your cloak as well.”(Matthew 5:40) This teaching referred to a first century legal practice relating to the poor. If a poor person with no belongings was sued, the person bringing the suit could take their outer garment during the day. It was to be returned at night so the poor person would have a cover. Jesus counseled the poor, when humiliated in this way, to give over their undergarment as well and to leave the court room nude. Since looking on someone's nakedness was a cultural taboo, the oppressed person put the oppressor in the awkward position of violating this taboo.

Wink then gave a specific example of this kind of resistance that occurred during the South African fight against apartheid. When Africaaner forces approached a squatter camp with bull dozers ready to destroy the camp, the women of the camp stood in front of the bull dozers and stripped naked. This so unnerved the men driving the heavy equipment that they fled without destroying the camp. Vulnerability was turned into an advantage.

In Wisconsin, a statewide interfaith coalition of religious groups took Jesus' teaching literally. They held nightly vigils at the capitol, praying for a just resolution to the crisis. Clergy from different faith traditions led these vigils. The prayers put themselves on the line while opening themselves to third way alternatives, alternatives that are less obvious when people are locked in combat using dominating images of power.

Jim Wallis of Sojourners Community called for fasting and prayer to address the injustices being proposed in our national budget. At this writing more than 38,000 people have committed to fast and pray each Monday at noon for a just national budget.

Wouldn't it be amazing if we and our enemies experienced transformation in this process?

A CONVERSATION

The coffee shop was crowded, every table occupied. I clutched my book as I looked around. I just want to sit and read. I ordered my coffee from the woman behind the counter. “Sure is crowded today,” I said. “Yes, we're usually busy in the morning.” I wandered the room, hoping someone would leave; but no one did.

I spotted two guys sitting at a table for six. “Mind if I join you?” I asked. “Sure,” they replied. “I'm Chuck,” I said introducing myself. “I'm Jerry,” one replied.* “I'm Frank,” said the other. They had open Bibles in front of them. I began reading, trying to ignore their conversation. I didn't want to “be saved” this morning.

“What are your reading,” asked Frank. “Just a mystery,” I replied. “Do you attend a church?” Oh no, here it comes. “Yes, I attend a UCC church.” “Do they believe in eternal damnation?” “Well, our congregation focusses more on how we can live following Christ,” I replied, trying to speak in terms that would not cause a confrontation. “We believe that God will bring everyone to himself at the end of the ages and that all sins will be forgiven,” said Jerry.

This is an interesting turn. They're using traditional 'born again' language. But they are including everyone. I've never heard this kind of inclusiveness before. “Then do you believe that even your enemies will go to heaven?” “Yes, Christ is about love; and God loves us all. So we will all go to heaven at the end of the ages.”

“Your talk about love very hopeful,” I said. “Most people seem to be driven by hatred and fear.” “Yes, that's the problem,” said Jerry. “Jesus didn't talk like that.” “It wasn't until Augustine and Constantine that we started talking about unbelievers going to hell. If people really believed that God is a God of love, why would such a God want to punish people?” I was fascinated by our conversation.

Then Jerry dropped a bombshell. “You may not believe it, but I was one bad dude.” “I couldn't even remember how many times I'd been shot at. It was like, 'If you weren't wounded, it didn't count.' I was put in prison for killing a guy. They put me in solitary confinement. I remember sitting in this pitch black cell, cursing God for the way my life had gone.”

“Their were rats and mice in the cell. I even made a pet of one of them. Then one day, I saw an ugly bug. It was a couple of inches long. I reached out to smack it when I heard a voice in my mind saying, 'You're going to kill that bug because it's freer than you are.' This stunned me. That night I dreamed that I was in bed cuddling with my wife. I woke up with the realization that I had put myself into this situation, not God. That's when my life turned around.”

Frank and Jerry had met in a prison chaplaincy program. Frank said, “Although my background is very different from Jerry's, we have become good friends. We are so convinced that God's love makes the difference, that we are sharing this understanding with people wherever we can.”

I couldn't help thinking that Jerry, a white guy, was a biker version of Malcom X. He was incredibly bright and self educated in prison. He knew scriptures as well as church history. He had an amazing memory. Jerry ended our conversation by announcing that he had an appointment to keep.

Frank and I talked a few minutes more. It turned out we had similar backgrounds – college educated, white, middle-class. I told him that he and Jerry had much to contribute. He nodded in agreement as we parted. I thought to myself, These folks are living with soul.

This Easter season many Christians talk about death and resurrection, new birth out of dying. For many, resurrection is a promise of heaven after we die. I think resurrection is more than this. It is occurring right now, moment by moment, as the Jerry and Frank's of the world manifest new life in situations of fear and death.

* I have changed the names in this reflection to preserve anonymity.

Outside the Box

Helen Jaeger died on the evening of July 3^rd, 1999. Her apartment was located on the 23^rd floor of an elderly high rise in St. Paul Minnesota. She wasn't much to look at – five foot four inches tall – squat in build – grey hair - a life-long United Methodist lay person. Yet this physical description hardly does her justice; for she was a woman who lived with Soul.

In the '50's, my wife Jean's mom spoke with youth about the dangers of drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes. She carried her “Johnnie Smoker” into high schools demonstrating how tars from cigarette smoke collect in the lungs. She asked students in her youth group to sign a yearly abstinence pledge. Some of her church friends saw her as a bit strange and a kook.

During the '60's and '70's she joined the anti-war movement. She was one of those “little old ladies in tennis shoes” who marched on the pentagon to protest US involvement in Viet Nam. Although she had only a high school education, she invited university students and college professors into her home to explore their understanding of global politics and spirituality. For these activities she was branded a radical and a subversive.

During the '80's she became involved with meditation movements. She was particularly interested in the writings of Edgar Casey, the psychic and medical clairvoyant. She was fascinated by the possibility that we are reincarnating beings. Once again, her beliefs and actions put her outside the norms of her religious community.

Helen died from congestive heart failure. Yet, two days before her death she sat in her bed and welcomed friends who asked her to pray for them. She saw her dying as a transition into another life experience. Her last words were, “Wow!”

Helen's life was shaped by her spirituality. She didn't fit the definition of a United Methodist church lady. Nor did she fit the norm of a white, middle class homemaker. Helen lived outside the box. She lived with soul.

Siddartha Gautama (Buddha) also lived outside the box. He abandoned his wife and young child as he wandered beyond his father's royal compound on his search for enlightenment. He rejected a life of wealth and power and became an itinerant teacher, the founder of a major spiritual tradition. He lived with soul.

Jesus too lived outside the box. He violated the Sabbath law by working on this holy day. When challenged, he said that the Sabbath was made for humans and not humans for the Sabbath. He taught that the Human Being is lord even of the Sabbath. Yet according to an ancient text of Luke 6:4 (Codex Bezae) he couples this statement with a caution, saying to a man who was working on the Sabbath, “Man, if you know what you are doing, you are blessed; but if you don't know what you are doing, you are cursed and a transgressor of the law.”

Living with Soul - living outside the box - is a risky enterprise. Those who engage their deep humanity live with a kind of freedom and personal authority that may be interpreted as sacrilegious or even immoral. Yet our motivations are extremely important. It is possible to live outside the box in rebellion against the dominant culture or out of personal arrogance. This kind of living lacks Soul and ultimately proves counterproductive and destructive. Soulful living is living that is intimately connected to our deep humanity.

Martin Luther King Jr. put it this way in a sermon at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church on March 29^th, 1959: “There are three groups of people in the world....(the) lawless people...who break laws,...(the) law-abiding people whose standards of conduct come from...the law written on the book, or the customs and mores of society...(and a) third group...who are committed to an inner law, those people who have an interior criteria of conduct...who are obedient to something that the law without could never demand...”

Helen Jaeger was part of this third group of people. She was guided by an inner criteria of conduct. She believed that it was her role to live the way of love, honoring people for who they were, even when they disagreed with her and thought her weird. Our culture needs more people who live with Soul.

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS

It's January 3^rd and the Christmas/New Year holidays have passed. I'm entering the cold months of winter feeling somewhat let down. I didn't accomplished as much as I had hoped I would in 2010. The world feels way too complex and out of control.

Usually, I don't make New Year's resolutions because I feel they lay unrealistic expectations on me. Yet I have an uncanny ability to criticize myself for lack of accomplishments even when the goals to be accomplished are unstated. It's as if I stand outside myself and objectify Chuck Pfeifer as something that needs to be fixed or improved. In this way I demean myself from the outside, never getting to know the Chuck Pfeifer on the inside.

Meanwhile the inner Chuck Pfeifer stands before this judgement uncertain and afraid. Through the years, I have developed a wonderful mechanism for dealing with this fear of internalized judgement. I escape into my head. I theorize about about the effects of the past on my present situation. I analyze social processes, and make lists of things I should do to contribute to the betterment of humankind.

By immersing myself in the midst of all of this activity, I avoid the scary feelings that threaten to undo me. As my self imposed judgements increase, I feel overloaded and despairing. I flee further from my feelings. I engage in compulsive and unproductive behaviors that fail to address the void in myself that I am trying to fill. I become the helper and fixer of myself and others, but from a distance.

It's hard for me to be with people without trying to help them or fix them. It is harder still to be with myself in the midst of my confusion and despair. As a result, I don't really know myself from the inside out. Furthermore, I don't really know and connect deeply with other people.

This new year, I'm trying to risk this scary kind of knowing which comes from being with my feelings. I'm trying to experience those parts of myself of which I'm ashamed as well as those parts which I admire. I'm trying to experience the scary feelings without going into my head. I'm trying to know Chuck Pfeifer from the inside out. If I practice standing in these vulnerable places with myself, perhaps I can relate to others from the inside out as well.

Anthony de Mello says, “You see persons and things not as they are but as you are. If you wish to see them as they are you must attend to your attachments and the fears that your attachments generate. Because when you look at life it is these attachments and fears that will decide what you will notice and what you block out. Whatever you notice then commands your attention. And since your looking has been selective you have an illusory version of the things and people around you. The more you live with this distorted version the more you become convinced that it is the only true picture of the world because your attachments and fears continue to process incoming data in a way that will reinforce your picture.” (from The Way to Love)

I'm beginning to believe that Living With Soul requires facing my fears, attachments and prejudgements honestly and openly. For me this means risking. It means engaging myself and others undefended. It means having the courage to face dying in it's many forms as an entree to living. Perhaps this is my New Year's Resolution for 2011.