IT'S NOT FAIR

(Dealing With Evil In An Unjust World)

When my sister, Jean, and I argued as children, our mother stepped in to prevent blood shed.  She was successful every time except once. That was the time I teased baby Jean as she was crawling up the stairs, and she took a bite out of my leg.  

When mom settled our disputes, one of us would often cry out, “It's not fair.”  Although I have matured since my childhood years, I still cry out within myself, “It's not fair.”

It's not fair that my father was killed in an auto accident when I was four.   It's not fair that my mother was left in a strange town, grievously injured, with two little children who were also injured.  It's not fair that my second father died of a heart attack leaving my mother to raise my younger sister and brother as a single parent.  It's not fair that my sister's son drowned while on a camping trip just before his first year in college.  It's not fair that my younger sister died of cancer just a year ago.

It's not fair that an earthquake in Haiti on January 12, 2010 killed 316,000 people, injured another 300,000 and left 1,000,000 homeless.1  It's not fair that a tsunami generated in the Indian Ocean on December 26, 2004 released the energy of 23,000 Hiroshima type bombs and killed 283,000 people.2  It's not fair that hurricane Katrina battered the southeastern coast of the United States on August 29, 2005 with 125 mph winds that killed more than 1800 people and ravaged coastal towns in Mississippi and the city of New Orleans.  It's not fair that some of those people were flooded out again by Hurricane Isaac just this last week. 3

It's not fair that Hitler's Third Reich exterminated 6,000,000 Jews and 5,000,000 non-Jews.4  It's not fair that 21,000 people died in political violence under the Afrikaner Apartheid Government in South Africa.5  It's not fair that on December 2008,  a 100 day genocide orchestrated by the divide and conquer strategies of neocolonial powers, Germany, Belgium & France killed 800,000 Rwandans.6 It's not fair that the North American Indian population in the USA was reduced from an estimated 12 million in 1500 to barely 237,000 in 1900 as European settlers took over their land.7  It's not fair that militants flew passenger planes into the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center on 9/11/2001 killing nearly 3,000 people.8 It's not fair that people in positions of power precipitated an economic collapse in 2008 that cost many Americans their jobs and homes.9

It's not fair!  It's not fair!  

Yet it happens and continues to happen.  And we have to decide how can we live meaningful lives in a world rife with injustice.    

Our yearning for justice is as old as human civilization itself.  Hammurabi (1792-1750 B.C.E) established a universal code10 of justice that applied to all the citizens of his empire in Mesopotamia.  "An eye for an eye ..." is a paraphrase of Hammurabi's Code.  It's central precept is that the penalty must fit the crime.  This continues to be the governing principle in our present western judicial system. The prologue to the Code contains this phrase, “..then Anu and Bel called by name me, Hammurabi, the exalted prince, who feared God, to bring about the rule of righteousness in the land, to destroy the wicked and the evil-doers; so that the strong should not harm the weak...”  Hammurabi's Code, like the codes of the tribes conquered by Hammurabi, continued to acknowledge that justice was ordained by the gods.

With the rise of monotheism in the Abrahmic religions, another set of rules for justice were said to have been transmitted directly from God to Moses in the Ten Commandments.  These rules were amplified in Judaism in the Torah (the first five books of the Bible), in Christianity by Jesus through the New (or Christian) Testament and in Islam by the Prophet Muhammed through the Quran.  In each of these traditions, as with the earlier Code of Hammurabi, people believed that they would be blessed or punished by God depending on whether they behaved or disobeyed the law.  

But here comes the rub.  Ancient societies began to observe that awful things happened to people who had not transgressed the rules of the gods.  They asked, “If there is justice in the world, why are the innocent allowed to suffer?”  A most striking example of this questioning is found in the Old Testament book of Job written between the sixth and fourth centuries BCE.11  The book tells the story of Job, "a perfect and an upright man," who is a pawn in an argument between God and the Adversary.  God allows the Adversary to visit terrible things on Job just to see if he will remain true to God.12
 
Archibald MacLeish, recognizing the horrors of our modern world, contemporized the story of Job in his 1958 play, 'J.B.' 13  The play opens with two failed actors, Mr. Zuss and Mr. Nickles, now circus vendors, standing near a side show stage in an empty circus tent. They decide that Mr. Zuss will play God and Mr. Nickles will play the Adversary, as they reenact the story of Job.  They conclude that Job, or J.B. will show up because  the world is a stage filled with Jobs who are suffering without cause.  

Mr.  Nickles puts it this way:14  
            Millions and millions of mankind
            Burned, crushed, broken, mutilated,
            Slaughtered, and for what? For thinking!
            For walking around the world in the wrong
            Skin, the wrong shaped noses, eyelids:
            Sleeping the wrong night in the wrong city –-
            London, Dresden, Hiroshima.

Mr. Nickles states the challenge of the drama in the following words:15
            If God is God He is not good,
            If God is Good He is no God;
            Take the even take the odd,
            I would not sleep here if I could . . .

Zuss and Nickles watch as J.B. appears on the sideshow stage with his family at Thanksgiving.  He is a wealthy business man with a loving wife, Sarah, and five wonderful children.  As the play unfolds, J.B. and Sarah endure the agony of losing their children through violent deaths.  Then, the entire city is devastated by an air attack, wiping out J.B.'s millions and leaving the afflicted protagonist asking piteously for reasons and praying for death.  J.B.'s suffering continues as his body is covered by puss filled boils.  Throughout this tragedy, J.B. insists that God is just.  Therefore, he, J.B., must have sinned against God to be punished so.

Finally, Sarah is at her wits end.16

Sarah: starting violently to her feet

    Has death no meaning?  Pain no meaning?

She points at J.B.'s body.

    Even these suppurating sores ---

    Have they no meaning to you?

J.B.:  from his heart's pain

    God will not punish without cause.

    God is just.

Sarah: hysterically    God is just!

    If God is just our slaughtered children

    Stank with sin, were rotten with it!

She controls herself with difficulty, turns toward him, reaches her arms out and lets them fall.

    Oh, my dear! my dear! my dear! my dear!

    Does God demand deception of us? ---

    Purchase His innocence by ours?

    Must we be guilty for Him? --- bear

    The burden of the world's malevolence

    For Him who made the world?

J.B.    He knows the guilt is mine.  He must know:

    Has He not punished it?  He knows its

    Name, its time, its face, its circumstance, …

Sarah:  fiercely

    And you?  Do you? You do not know it.

    Your  punishment is all you know.

She moves toward the door, stops, turns.

    I will not stay here if you lie ---

    Connive in your destruction, cringe to it:

    Not if you betray my children . . .

    I will not listen . . .

    They are dead and they were innocent:  I will not

    Let you sacrifice their deaths

    To make injustice justice and God good!

J.B.:      covering his face with his hands

    My heart beats.  I cannot answer it.

Sarah:    If you buy quiet with their innocence ---

    Theirs or yours ..    softly   

    I will not love you.

J.B.:     I have no choice but to be guilty.

Sarah:    her voice rising

    We have the choice to live or die,

    All of us...          curse God and die. ...

Sarah turns, runs soundlessly out of the circle of light, out the door.

It may be difficult for us post-moderns to appreciate the tragedy of J.B. because God, for many of us - if we can even conceive of this entity - has been relativized and spiritualized.  God is no longer imagined to be an all powerful and completely just being who controls history.  In addition, our news media confronts us daily with the suffering of innocents on such a horrific scale that the stories of individual J.B.s pass almost unnoticed.

Still we try to make sense of our world - to give meaning to our lives.  How does one live in a world where  there is no justice?  J.B.'s wife Sarah offers one response, “Curse God and die.”  There are many ways to curse our life force and die.  We can pull back from life and just watch it go by.  We can engage in excesses in food, drugs, sex, drink, work, family and consumer goods.  We can literally take our own lives by living carelessly without caring about ourselves or others.

In the midst of his misery, J.B. is visited by three friends who seek to comfort him with three approaches to addressing the timeless problem of evil.  

Bildad, the orator and grand historian, laughs when J.B. explains his plight.  He claims that the march of time and history is God.  Individual guilt or innocence doesn't matter.17

    J.B.:         The hand of God has touched me.  Look at me!
            Every hope I ever had,
            Every task I put my mind to,
            Every work I've ever done
            Annulled as though I had not done it. ...
            Love too has left me.
    Bildad:        Love!            a great guffaw
            What's love to Him?  One man's misery!
    J.B.:        If I am innocent . . .  ?
    Bildad:       Snort of jeering laughter   Innocent!  Innocent!
            Nations shall perish in their innocence.
            Classes shall perish in their innocence. …..
            God is History.  If you offend Him
            Will not History dispense with you?
            History has no time for innocence.
           all park bench orator        Screw your justice!
            History is justice ------ time …..
            Not for one man.  For humanity.
            One man's life won't measure on it. ….
            Justice for All!  Justice for everyone!
        Subsiding                On the way --- I doesn't matter.

Can you here echoes of Bildad in our present history?  Wars are promoted by arguing for the profit and glory of the nation.  Individuals don't count - soldiers or civilians.  American politics is managed by spin doctors who manipulate public attitudes to benefit the party.  Political candidates are  attacked and ridiculed for the sake of promoting the opposition candidate.  Governments spread outright lies for the sake of the nation.  History books are replete with tales of the rise and downfall of societies with little mention of the common folk who are affected.

Another friend, Eliphaz wearing the white coat of an intern councils J.B. telling him that we are governed by our circumstances.18

    J.B.:        Guilt matters.  Guilt must always matter.
            Unless guilt matters the whole world is
            Meaningless.  God too is nothing. ...
             Eliphaz has been fidgeting.  Now he breaks in like a professor in a seminar, poking a forefinger in the air.   
    Eliphaz:    Come!  Come! Come! Guilt is a
            Psychophenomenal situation ---- ...
            We have surmounted guilt.  ...
            Self has no will, cannot be guilty. …
            There is no guilt, my man.  We all are
            Victims of our guilt, not guilty. …..
            Our guilt is underneath the Sybil's
            Stone:  not known.
    J.B.:    violently            I'd rather suffer
            Every unspeakable suffering God sends,
            Knowing it was I that suffered,
            I that earned the need to suffer,
            I that acted, I that chose,
            Than wash my hands with yours in that
            Defiling innocence.  Can we be men
            And make an irresponsible ignorance
            Responsible for everything?  I will not
            Listen to you!
    Eliphaz:    schrugging            But you will.  You will.

We can hear Eliphaz in modern and rational theories about human nature.  These theories often turn humans into objects, who are studied by biological and social science.  The individual is subsumed in the group with statistical averages and macro theories or subdivided by micro surgical and submicroscopic optical investigations that separate us and our organs into their constituent parts – proteins, fats, carbohydrates, DNA.  

The human who lives, desires, makes choices and suffers consequences is lost. There is no guilt, no struggle for meaning or betterment, nor transgressions.

At this point Zophar, the priest, argues that guilt is the thing that separates humans from animals.19

    Zophar:    … Happy be the man whom God correcteth.
            He tastes his guilt.  His hope begins.
            He is in league with the stones in certainty.
    J.B.:    urgently, the words forced from him        My
            Sin!  Teach me my sin!  My wickedness! …
            Speak of the sin I must have sinned
            To suffer what you see me suffer.
    Zophar:    Do we need to name our sins
            To know the need to be forgiven?
            Repent my son!  Repent! …
    J.B.:        Yours is the cruelest comfort of them all,
            Making the Creator of the Universe
            The miscreator of mankind---
            A party to the crimes He punishes . . .
                Making my sin . . .           a horror . . .         a deformity . . .
    Zophar:   collapsing into his own voice
            If it were otherwise we could not bear it . . .
            Without the fault, without the Fall,
            We're madmen:  all of us are madmen . . .
            Without the Fall
            We're madmen all.

Once again we hear echoes of Zophar in contemporary society.  We hear it in the harsh exchanges between the religious right and left – over hot button issues like abortion, the death penalty, homosexuality and war.  We hear it in the demonizing of all who are different – homosexuals, Muslims, people from the other political party.
 
We assume sinfulness.  We identify it in others, refusing to see it in ourselves, even though we know it in our deep unconscious.  Or we live our lives with a deep sense of nameless guilt because we have not lived up to our ideals.

In all of this J.B. maintains his innocence.   Finally, we hear a Distant Voice in a rush of wind sounds.20

    J.B.:         God, my God, my God, answer me!
    Silence            His voice rises.
            I cry out of wrong but I am not heard …
            I cry aloud but there is no judgment.
       Violently    Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him . . .
       That ancient human cry.
            Oh, that I knew where I might find Him! ----
            That I might even come to His seat!
            I would order my cause before Him
            And fill my mouth with arguments.

       Out of the rushing sound, the Distant Voice; J.B. Cowers as he hears it.
    Distant Voice:    Who is this that darkeneth counsel
            By words without knowledge? …
            Shall he that contendeth with the Almighty instruct
            Him? . . . ...
            He that reproveth God, let him answer it!

    J.B.:        I know that thou canst do everything . . .  ...
            Therefore have I uttered that I understood not:
            Hear, I beseech thee, and I will speak . . .
            I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear . . .
            But now  . . .        His face is drawn in agony.
                    mine eye seeth thee!
       He bows his head.  His hands wring each other.
            I abhor myself . . .  and repent . . .

Nickles and Mr. Zuss now argue about what went on with J.B. in the play.21

    Nickles:    Well, that's that!
    Mr. Zuss:        That's . . . that!
    Nickles:    You don't look pleased.
    Mr. Zuss:        Should I!
    Nickles:                Well,
            You were right weren't you?
    Mr. Zuss:    too loud        Of course I was right. ....
    Nickles:    He misconceived the part entirely.
    Mr. Zuss:    Misconceived the world!  Buggered it!
    Nickles:    Giving in like that!  Whimpering! …
            You're right.     I'm wrong.  
                You win.      God always wins.
    Mr. Zuss:    Planets and Pleiades and eagles ----
            Screaming horses ---  scales of light ---
            The wonder and the mystery of the universe ----  ….
            God stood stooping there to show him! ….
            And what did Job do?
        Mr. Zuss has worked himself up into a dramatic fury equaling Nickles.
            Job . . . just . . . sat!
            Sat there!        Dumb!        Until it ended!
            Then! . . . you heard him!    Mr. Zuss chokes.
                        Then, he calmed me! ...
            Forgave me! . . .         for the world! . . .         for everything!
    Nickles:    Nonsense!  He repented, didn't he -----
    Mr. Zuss:            That's just it!
            He repented.          It was him ---
            Not the fear of God but him! ….
            . . . In spite of everything he'd suffered!
            In spite of all he'd lost and loved
            He understood and he forgave it! . . .
            . . . He'd heard of God and now he saw Him!
            Who's the judge in judgment there?
            Who plays the hero, God or him?
            Is God to be forgiven?
    Nickles:            Isn't he?
            Job was innocent, you may remember . . .
        a nasty singsong
            The perfect and the upright man! ….
    The platform lights go out.   Total darkness.
    Mr. Zuss:    Lights!  Lights!  That's not the end of it. ….
    Nickles:   in the darkness22
            Why isn't that the end?  It's over.
            Job has chosen how to choose.
            You've made your bow?  You want another? …..
    Mr. Zuss:    You know as well as I there's more . . .
            There's always one more scene no matter
            Who plays Job or how he plays it . . .
                God restores him at the end.
    Nickles:  a snort
            God restores us all.  That's normal.
            That's God's mercy to mankind . . .
            We never asked Him to be born . . .   
            We never chose the lives we die of . . .
            But God, if we have suffered patiently,
            Rewards us . . .         gives our dirty selves back.
    Mr. Zuss:    Gets all he ever had and more ---
            Much more. ….
    Nickles:    jeering
            Wife back!  Balls! He wouldn't touch her.
            He wouldn't take her with a glove! …..
            Planting the hopeful world again----
            He can't . . . he won't . . .  he wouldn't take her!
    Mr. Zuss:    He does though.
            Time and again . . .         Tim and again . . .
Mr. Zuss picks up his vending tray of balloons and walks off the stage.  Nickles starts to follow, looks back , sees J.B. Kneeling in his rubble, hesitates, crosses, squats behind him, his vendor's cap pushed back on his head, his tray on his knees.
    Nickles:      J.B.!23
    J.B.:        Let me alone.
    Nickles:    It's me.            J.B. shrugs
            I'm not the Father.  I'm the --- Friend.
            All I wanted was to help.
            Professional counsel you might call it . . .
            I wondered how you'd play the end.
    J.B.:        Who knows what the end is ever?
    Nickles:    I do.  You do.
            What's the worst thing you can think of?
    J.B.:        I have asked for death.  Begged for it.  Prayed for it.
    Nickles:    Then the worst thing can't be death.
            You know now.
    J.B.:            No.  You tell me.
    Nickles:    He gives it back to you.        All of it.
            Everything he took:
            Wife, health, children, everything. …..
            Tell me how you play the end.
            Any man as screwed as Job was! . . .
          violently
            Job won't take it.  Job won't touch it!
            Job will fling it back in God's face
            With half his guts to make it splatter.

How many of us, when we experience unwarranted suffering are tempted to ask, “Why me?  I haven't done anything to deserve this.”  “I don't know if I can go on.”

When I look at the mess of our political and economic systems, I'm tempted to say, “Throw all the bums out.”  “They are all crooks and thieves just interested in money, fame and power.”  “I want nothing to do with any of it.”

At other times, I'm tempted to despair saying, “It's all so big, so complex, so out of control.  There is nothing I can do to affect any of it.”  “There's no justice in the world.”  “It chews us up and spits us out.”  “What's the use of even trying.”

Nickles puts it more graphically when he says, “Job will fling it back in God's face with half his guts to make it splatter.”

The play continues.  J.B.'s attention is elsewhere even as Nickles continues to harasses him.24

    J.B.:        Listen! Do you hear?  There's someone . . .
         rising           Someone waiting at the door.      Who is it?    Is there someone here?
        There is no answer.  He goes on.  Reaches the door.
            Sarah!
        The light increases.  She is sitting on the sill, a broken twig in her hand.
    Sarah:        Look, Job:  the forsythia,
                The first few leaves . . .     not leaves though . . .         petals . . .
    J. B.:    roughly    Get up!
    Sarah:        Where shall I go?
    J.B.:                        Where you went!
        She does not answer.
        More gently.                Where?
    Sarah:        Among the ashes.
            All there is now of the town is ashes.
            Mountains of ashes.  Shattered glass. ….
            There is no sound there now ---     no wind sound---
            Nothing that could sound the wind ---
                        Only this.
        She looks at the twig in her hands.
                Among the ashes!
            I found it growing in the ashes,
            Gold as though it did not know . . .
        Her voice rises hysterically.
            I broke the branch to strip the leaves off ---
            Petals again! . . .
        She cradles it in her arms.
                    But they so clung to it!
    J.B.:        Curse God and die, you said to me.
    Sarah:        Yes.
        She looks up at him for the first time, then down again.
                You wanted justice, didn't you?
            There isn't any.  There's the world . . .
        She begins to rock on the doorsill, the little branch in her arms.
    J.B.:        Why did you leave me alone?
    Sarah:                        I love you.
            I couldn't help you any more.
            You wanted justice and there was none ----
            Only love.
    J.B.        He does not love.     He is.
    Sarah:        But we do.  That's the wonder.
    J.B.:        Yet you left me.
    Sarah:            Yes, I left you.
            I thought there was a way away . . .
            Water under the bridge opens
            Closing and the companion stars
            Still float there afterwards.  I thought the door
            Opened into closing water.
    J.B.:        Sarah!
        He drops on his knees beside her in the doorway, his arms around her.
    Sarah:                Oh I never could!
            Even the forsythia beside the
            Stair could stop me.
        They cling to each other.  Then she rises, drawing him up, peering at the darkness inside the door.
    J.B.:                It's too dark to see.
        She turns, pulls his head down between her hands and kisses him.
    Sarah:        Then blow on the coal of the heart, my darling. ….
            The candles in churches are out.
            The lights have gone out in the sky.
            Blow on the coal of the heart
            And we'll see by and by . . .
        J.B. joins her standing
                            We'll see where we are.
        The wit won't burn and the wet soul moulders
        Blow on the coal of the heart and we'll know . . .
        We'll know . . .

The play ends with J.B. and Sarah rearranging and straightening the chairs in their home.  Like Sarah and J.B., we too are left living our daily lives, just trying to make sense of the senselessness and injustice of our world.

J.B. begins to understand God in a different way.  He says to God, “I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear.... But now....” His face drawn in agony.  “Mine eye seeth thee!”  We post-moderns see behind the veil.  Old institutions, religious and secular, seem to have lost their effectiveness.  This is not something we can fix.  Sarah puts it well, “The candles in churches are out.  The lights have gone out in the sky.”

Yet we frail humans, are more than we think we are.  We cannot behave as the Nickles in us would have us behave.  We cannot reject the world because of its lack of justice, “flinging the creation back into God's face with half our guts to make it splatter.”  Somehow, somewhere, we are gripped by love.   


Sarah says to J.B.,     I love you.  

    I couldn't help you any more.

    You wanted justice and there was none ----

    Only love.”   

J.B. responds,         He does not love.

     He is.

Sarah replies,         But we do.
            That's the wonder.

The creation often seems an uncaring place, devoid of love. Yet we are moved by something deep inside – a hope – a yearning.   We humans are becoming aware of our own consciousness, of new depths in the cosmos, and of a soul force that flows through it all.  This is all inexplicable.  We can't control it.  Yet we can nurture it in ourselves.  Perhaps this is where our hope lies.

Again Sarah says it best,
            ..blow on the coal of the heart, my darling. ….
            The candles in churches are out.
            The lights have gone out in the sky.
            Blow on the coal of the heart
            And we'll see by and by . . .

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2010_Haiti_earthquake
2. http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2004/12/1227_041226_tsunami.html
3. http://dsc.discovery.com/convergence/katrina/facts/facts.html; http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/09/03/hurricane-isaac-utilities-louisiana-mississippi_n_1852480.html
4. http://motlc.wiesenthal.com/site/pp.asp?c=gvKVLcMVIuG&b=394663#3
5. http://www.topix.com/forum/world/south-africa/TTAN0QGPFJ9O3M667
6. http://www.ppu.org.uk/genocide/g_rwanda.html
7. Were American Indians the Victims of Genocide? By Guenter Lewy - http://hnn.us/articles/7302.html
8. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/September_11_attacks
9. http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/the_big_idea/2010/01/what_caused_the_economic_crisis.html
10. http://www.ushistory.org/civ/4c.asp
11. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Job#Origin_and_textual_history
12. An even earlier example of this questioning of god (Marduke) is found in an ancient Sumerian/Babylonian poem,  “The Righteous Sufferer” written in the second millennium BCE. (http://history-world.org/poem_of_the_righteous_sufferer.htm)
13. J.B. by Archibald MacLeish, Houghton-Mifflin
14. ibid. (p. 12)
15. ibid. (p. 14)
16. ibid. (p. 108ff)
17. ibid. (p. 119ff)
18. ibid. (p. 121ff)
19. ibid. (p. 124ff)
20. ibid. (p. 127ff)
21. ibid. (p. 133ff)
22. ibid. (p. 141ff)
23. ibid. (p. 144ff)
24. ibid. (p. 147ff)

My America

The Fourth of July has passed. For me it was a bittersweet time filled with gratitude and sadness. I am grateful to live in the United States with the freedoms, history and opportunities that I enjoy. Yet part of me is saddened by our present state of affairs.

We shout, “We are number one,” but statistics no longer bear this out.

1. Of 65 developed nations, the U.S. ranking in education is:¹
   1. 14^th in reading skills
   2. 25^th in Math skills
   3. 17^th in Science skills
2. The US ranking in health is:
   1. 29^th in infant mortality @ 6.8 infant deaths per 1000 live births.²
   2. 37^th in the performance of our Health Care System³.
3. Of the wealthiest nations, the US:
   1. Has the 2^nd highest child poverty rate @ 23.1% of 35 developed countries⁴
4. According to the Corruption perception index (CPI), the US:
   1. Ranks as the 24^th least corrupt nation in the world at 71%. (New Zealand ranks 1^st @ 93%).⁵

The inscription on the base of the statue of Liberty, our beacon of freedom to the rest of the world, reads:

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses, yearning to breath free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door. 

 

The history of the United States is a unique experiment in democracy. We have been a melting pot, attracting many kinds of people with different gifts, all who desire the opportunity to better themselves by contributing to our society. This diversity has produced a powerful engine of creativity that has made us the envy of the rest of the world.

Yet today we seem to be intent on throttling down this engine by keeping immigrants out. States are passing laws that handicap them. We have literally built a wall on our southern border to keep immigrants from entering our country. We often treat them with suspicion. We are fearful of those who are different.

This fear of difference applies even to our own citizens. Our political system is corrupted by fear. We are more interested in damning our opposition than we are in developing solutions to our many problems. This was demonstrated dramatically for me last week as I read the threads on the Facebook pages of my friends.

One, a person more conservative than I, posted a statement critical of the Supreme Court decision which upheld much of President Obama's health care reform package. All the comments but one, which followed this post, derided the decision as well as the character of Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr., who cast the deciding vote upholding the decision. There was virtually no discussion of the provisions of the bill, and there was no concern expressed for the people who were being affected by it.

I was about to add a comment myself, criticizing these respondents, when I realized that the tone of this page was no different from that of Facebook pages of some of my more liberal friends. Their pages too, were filled with comments that ridiculed the faults of conservatives whom they despised. Again there were few comments on the content or of the people affected by the issues being discussed. In both cases, commentators assumed that their political positions were totally correct, and the agreement of like-minded contributors re-enforced this bias.

How on earth are we going to address the enormous problems facing our society if all our of energy is poured into criticism and ridicule? Besides being disingenuous, this approach is lazy. It is always easier to criticize someone else's plan than it is to come up with a positive one of your own.

Last week, physicists at the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) at the CERN laboratory in Geneva announced that they had found evidence of the Higgs Boson (or God particle) predicted by the Standard Model⁷ in theoretical physics. This experimental evidence will lead to greater insights into the processes which occurred in the big bang, the moment of the creation of our cosmos. It may also prove helpful in the exploration of the enigmatic dark matter and dark energy⁸. This result was made possible because a group of nations invested billions of dollars in building the LHC and because an international group of physicists committed thousands of hours in theoretical and experimental investigations over the last several decades.

These people spent years proposing, rejecting and refining their insights regarding the moment of birth of our cosmos. They disagreed and competed with one another in the process. But they were unified in their goal to press deeper into the mystery of our existence. If some scientists involved in this effort had stooped to the level of ridicule that we see in our political system, they would have been ostracized by the majority of scientists in the field. The only thing that counts in the scientific endeavor is theoretical predictions that are substantiated by reproducible experimental results. It is this process of commitment to a goal over decades that has produced the amazing Higgs boson results. This discovery may have opened a whole new era in the study of the origin of our cosmos.

Now, I acknowledge that the issues facing humankind are messier than those facing physicists; but they are also orders of magnitude more important for the survival of our species. It doesn't take a genius to know that the explosion of our global population is straining the limits of the earth to support us. We are facing the real possibility that future wars will be fought over scarce water resources. More and more plant and animal species are becoming extinct. We have no idea how these species might serve as resources for our future survival.

The increasing gap between the educational levels of rich and poor children in our society and the relatively lower educational aptitude of all our children spells trouble for the US as we compete in a complex global arena. Although we may argue about the cause of global warming, it is becoming abundantly clear that this increase in the ambient temperature of our planet has disastrous implications for the survival of life. Yet we ignore the warning symptoms of the collapse of our ecosystem choosing instead to argue about our perceived differences.

We are presently in the grips of a global economic recession that has forced middle-class people out of their homes and jobs while the desperately poor in our world are threatened with fates that are almost impossible to imagine. Much of this disaster was triggered by greedy people who turned our banking structures into a carnival side show where the few benefitted by cheating the many.

It should also be clear that these same greedy people are “gaming” our political system? They have hijacked the Republican party. They manipulate us through fear and cause us to adopt policies that are not in the best interests of our nation or of our world? These charlatans are neither Republican nor Democrat, liberal nor conservative. They would have hijacked the Democrat party in the same way if it were in their best interest to do so.

Yet all is not gloom and doom as we celebrate the birthday of our our nation. I remember the grand visions of the founders of this country, visions which are manifest in the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution of the United States and the words inscribed on the base of the Statue of Liberty. These proclamations profess a faith in the potential of humans to be more than we think we are. They are indeed soulful and soul filled declarations.

How can we re-embrace the spirit of our forebearers even as we acknowledge the serious nature of our present condition? It is clear that we cannot continue to gratify our infantile urges to demonize those with whom we disagree. We must engage those who differ with us, acknowledging that we need all the human resources and viewpoints possible to address the horrendous problems we face.

Simply electing Barack Obama or Mitt Romney for president is not sufficient to address these issues. Our political system has become little more than a power game where people in Washington spend most of their time preparing for the next election and little time on working together to improve the life of the majority of our population. Our political system lacks soul, and only “we the people” can provide this soul.

If you are a member of one of the major faith traditions, consider what is asked of you by Buddha, Jesus, Muhammad, the Hebrew prophets and other spiritual leaders. These leaders did not attracted followers because of their religious theories or by self aggrandizement. People followed them because their lives demonstrated characteristics that were ascribed to God. Almost universally, they asked their followers to act with love and compassion toward those who are suffering. If we are to live with soul, it's not what we believe that makes the difference. This is where we get bound up in petty disagreements that further divide us. It's about how we live.

Our power as a nation, as a people, will not come solely from our ability to elect a particular person for a political office. It will not come from our military or economic domination of world affairs.

If we are really going to honor the spirit in which this nation was founded, we need to re-imagine our beginnings. We need to ask what really brings life to our world. We need to explore with others, particularly those who differ from ourselves, that which is life giving to each of us. We need to tell our political leaders, as well as the charlatans who seek to manipulate us, that we are tired of their games. We need to live with soul.

This will not “solve” our issues any more than the physics experiment at CERN solved the issue of our existence. Yet as we bring our whole selves into living each moment with love and compassion, things will change, just a little bit. For me, this possibility is reason enough to celebrate the birth of our nation.

Robin Meyers⁸ puts it well: “Our power will come .... from one simple, nonnegotiable, radical idea: the power of love is ultimately greater than the love of power.”

1. US ranking in education by OECD (Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development) of 65 nations on a scale from reported by the Guardian on December 7, 2010: <http://www.guardian.co.uk/news/datablog/2010/dec/07/world-education-rankings-maths-science-reading#data> 
2. http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/databriefs/db09.htm
3. New England Journal of Medicine - <http://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMp0910064> (The conceptual framework underlying the rankings proposed that health systems should be assessed by comparing the extent to which investments in public health and medical care were contributing to critical social objectives: improving health, reducing health disparities, protecting households from impoverishment due to medical expenses, and providing responsive services that respect the dignity of patients.)
4. http://www.upi.com/Top_News/World-News/2012/05/29/US-Second-highest-child-poverty-level/UPI-67641338349787/ - UNICEF study & The Opportunity Gap by David Brooks, NYTimes, July 10, 2012
5. http://cpi.transparency.org/cpi2011/results/
6. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standard_Model
7. http://science.nasa.gov/astrophysics/focus-areas/what-is-dark-energy/
8. The Underground Church by Robin Meyers, p. 175

A State of Mind

I'm amazed at how my attitudes affect my perception of reality. When Jean and I moved to the Boston area, I worried about how I would be treated by easterners whom I characterized as pushy, hurried and unfriendly. This characterization was shaped in part by a decades old trip to Boston. I had negotiated the busy freeways and round-a-bouts, when I came upon a billboard that warned 'Stop On Red Lights.' “This is a dangerous place,” I thought; and the image stuck.

So when we moved to Boston, I prepared myself. I was determined to be careful. I approached these eastern strangers with caution.

Shortly after we arrived, Jean and I began exploring neighborhoods looking for permanent housing. During one of these evening tours, I ran against a curb and ruptured the right front tire of one of our Prius. We stood by our car in the gathering dusk wondering what we should do. Then a woman drove by on her way home from work. She stopped and asked if she could help. Meg¹ lived in the house near where we were stalled. When she saw our predicament, she offered to drive us to our apartment. Furthermore, she told us that her husband, Tony¹, who worked the night shift and returned at 4 a.m., would change the tire for us the next morning. Thus reassured, we locked our disabled car and rode to our apartment with Meg.

Sure enough, at 8 am the next morning, Tony called and told us to drive over so that he could change our tire. When we arrived, Tony went into his garage and returned with a commercial jack. He hoisted the car and unscrewed the lug bolts so he could remove the tire. But try as he might, he couldn't budge it. The aluminum rim on the tire had welded itself to the axle. Tony went back to his garage and returned with a sledge hammer and a block of wood. He placed the block against the rim, and gave it a couple of whacks. The tire popped free, and he replaced it with our spare. As we returned his tools to the garage, I gave thanks that Tony was one of those people who was good with his hands. I admired his house, and he told me that he had built much of it himself.

I thanked Tony as we left. He said that he was just being a good neighbor. We couldn't pay Meg and Tony for their kindness, so we thanked them with one of Jean's homemade pecan pies.

If this had been our only experience of neighborliness, my stereotype of easterners might have survived intact. But this was just the first of a number of occurrences. A few days later, Jean bought a candle for our apartment and then realized we had no matches. She set off on foot down Woburn's Main Street to find some. She stopped at a local restaurant and asked if they had a book of matches that she could buy. The woman behind the counter went back to the kitchen and returned with a lighter. “We don't have any matches,” she said, ”but you can borrow this if you like.” Jean was flabbergasted by this generous offer. She declined and then went to a nearby convenience store. The owner didn't have matches for sale either, but he gave Jean some he had under the counter.

Later, Jean and I purchased some things for the kitchen at a local store. We told the sales woman that we had newly arrived from the midwest. She said, “I hope people are treating you well. Sometimes Massachusettsans are know as 'Massholes.'” We assured her that people were very kind. Jean then asked her how she was doing. She responded by telling us of a bout with breast cancer and the double mastectomy that resulted. We wished her well in her healing. I left the store amazed. Here we were, midwestern strangers on the east coast. But rather than feeling alien, we were greeted with amazing hospitality and shared confidences.

These positive experiences continue as we settle into the Woburn community. Each morning we walk to the Dunkin Donuts on Main Street. The staff now have our orders ready when we arrive – a small half caf/half decaf coffee and a cinnamon-raison bagel with peanut butter for Jean - a medium decaf coffee with a toasted multigrain bagel and peanut butter for me. We have learned the names of some of the servers and regular customers. One of the staff, a woman with an hispanic accent, told us she speaks five languages. A group of six church ladies have their own special table. They come in for coffee and conversation after attending morning mass.

Up to now I have shared the positives in our move. Yet I would be less than honest if I didn't acknowledge the negatives. I feel rootless and sometimes lost. I'm no longer a resident of Madison, but I'm not yet feeling at home in Boston. I am sometimes depressed and unmotivated. I am frustrated that we haven't found a house.

At this point a deeper learning is beginning to take place. Even though I'm aware that negative stereotypes warp my understanding of reality, I have been less aware of my presumption that “creation owes me.” Somewhere deep inside me I assume that if I'm a good person, my life should be free of distress and sadness. Furthermore, I carry the unconscious belief that my judgments of right and wrong somehow carry universal validity.

I know in my head that “Living with soul” is not a guarantee of happiness, nor is it a guarantee that my values are infallible. Even when I am following my dream, I will experience setbacks and sorrows. Even when my intentions are pure, I will not possess complete understanding of all situations and circumstances. Yet in spite of my head knowledge, something in me still insists that creation owes me.

I feel I'm being treated unjustly by life, and I respond with a negative stance toward life. I tend to see the glass as half empty. Because I am aware of injustices in the world, I often interpreted human intentions, particularly those of people with whom I disagree, in a negative light. It is as if I have a negative CD playing continuously in my head. “That person doesn't know what he's talking about.” “Her actions are governed by greed.” “He doesn't deserve the acclaim he is receiving.” In all of this I refuse to acknowledge the source of my negativity. I insist that I'm not a pessimist. I'm just being realistic.

After I left the urban ministry with chronic fatigue syndrome in 1998, I had a dream. A woman and I were standing by a wall that resembled the Viet Nam war memorial. I asked my therapist why I had this dream some 25 years after the end of the war. He replied, “Your war is over.” His response struck with the power of a sledge hammer. Psychologically I had been at war during my 25 year involvement with Madison Urban Ministry. Those whom I encountered in my struggle for justice were enemies. I was even suspicious of the faith communities who supported MUM because they weren't strong enough in promoting justice. I had yet to realize that justice, without love and compassion, is sterile and judgmental - lacking in soul.

I still had positive hopes and visions for making our society more just. Yet I continued to focus on the negative attributes of people and social situations. I even defined myself in terms of my deficits. Life, for me, was a struggle against powerful negative institutions and forces.

For these reasons, I came to Boston “ready to do battle” with easterners whom I had stereotyped as pushy, hurried, and unfriendly. Instead, I was overwhelmed by the warmth of people whom I encountered. This life transition is challenging me to examine the source of my negativity. I am being given the opportunity to live more soulfully, to remain conscious of my prejudgments and my sense of entitlement. Such soulful living is encouraged by my little grandson, Gus. When I am with him, the child in me leaps for joy. I'm grateful for this transition in my life, for the insights it has engendered and for the past experiences which have led me to this growing understanding.

¹ Not their actual names.

ARRIVAL

I am writing this reflection at a desk in a rented third floor walk-up in Woburn, Massachusetts. Two weeks ago Jean and I were finishing the sorting and packing of our belongings in preparation for a move to Boston. We planned to arrive in time to witness the birth of our first grandchild, due on April 7th. On Sunday, March 18^th, daughter Rebecca called saying that little Gus was on his way, three weeks early. We rushed Jean onto a plane, and she was present for little Gus' birth on Monday morning. Jean stayed the week and flew back to Madison Saturday, March 24th. Son Timothy flew in on Sunday, the 25th. We packed madly on Monday and Tuesday so the moving van could load on Wednesday, the 28th. On ThursdayTim accompanied us in our two Prius caravan from Madison to Boston. We arrived the following Saturday, March 31^st after stops in Cleveland, Niagara Falls and Ithaca New York.

Since then, we have been settling into our rented apartment, getting to know the area, and spending time with Rebecca, Dan and little Gus. It seems appropriate that our move occurred during the season of Passover and Easter. For both of these Holy Days commemorate transitions in which communities of faith ventured into the unknown propelled by a sense of call. We too felt a sense of call when our children invited us to live closer to them. It seemed that we were being invited to turn the page to a new chapter in our lives, as individuals and as a couple.

Today however, I feel strangely disconnected from my moorings. I am no longer a part of the life I knew in Madison, Wisconsin. As yet I do not feel a part of the Boston community. There is a childlike voice in me that echoes the words uttered by my three year old grandnephew, Tyler, when his family moved. He and my brother-in-law were sitting on a bench in a strange new city. Tyler looked at Gary and said, “Grandpa, how are we going to get out of here?” Yes, something in me yearns to return to my familiar life in Madison.

But this is only half the story. Something else in me knows that I must respond to that which is calling if I am to live my life fully. In part this is a call to greater connection with my family - Jean, Timothy, Rebecca, Dan and little Gus. Yet it's more than that. It's related to Living With Soul. Geoffery Fisher, Archbishop of Canterbury (1945-61) said, “Until you know that life is interesting – and find it so - you haven't found your soul.”

Perhaps this is it. Even with all the dis-ease of this transition - concerns about the higher cost of living on the east coast, sadness about leaving old friends, questions about engaging my new life in meaningful ways – there is the sense that my life will continue to be interesting. It will be soulful. And paraphrasing Ray Charles, I sense I am in touch with a mystery that “is like electricity … a force that can light up a room.”

So in the final analysis, my major felt yearning, the yearning to be settled, may not be what I really need. A routine life is often not interesting and therefore not soulful. A soulful life, a life crackling with that electricity that fills a room, will not always be comfortable. It may at times even be painful. The Hebrew people, after they were freed from Egypt, wandered forty years in the wilderness before they arrived at the promised land. And even when they formed a nation, they oftentimes suffered in their journey with Yahweh. Jesus certainly suffered and agonized during his lifetime. And the early Christians experienced great joys mixed with great sorrows in their journey with God.

So for now, the major insight of this life transition is that Living with Soul is never static. Life is always in flux. Sometimes the changes are rapid and seemingly violent, like raging rapids. At other times they are smooth and tranquil like a slowly flowing river. But change and growth are a part of life, a part of Living with Soul. My challenge in general, as well as in this transition, is to engage life in all of its interesting facets rather than seeking to control it out of fear. This is also what the major spiritual traditions imply when they encourage us to live in faith.

Virtual Monk

My latest Reflection, "Virtual Monk" is posted as the lead article in Benedictine Bridge, a publication of Holy Wisdom Monastery in Madison, Wisconsin.

The article can be accessed at the Holy Wisdom Monastery sitr at <http://benedictinewomen.org/category/benedictine-bridge/>.  Just copy this web address (without the "<" and ">" signs) into your browser.

I hope you enjoy it.

Chuck Pfeifer

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)