Sabbath Peace and New Beginnings, llvl

There are extraordinary people I suppose who are world Peacemakers. But most of us live la vida local. That means we must make Peace where we are.

Not just that convenient little Peace where you think what I think and I think what we think and we’re all happy and self-satisfied. But that slightly uncomfortable yet oh-so-satisfying Peace where we stretch beyond the known and really do the work. We look at what needs to be done and do it. And then we stretch our reach a bit to the next place in our lives and spread what we’re doing.

There are places all over the world we can look… and there are places here. We can’t look at our borders and see people refusing children and think we are doing well with Peace. We can’t look at Ferguson and dream for one minute it couldn’t happen here… unless we do something…

This is a Sabbath for some of us. Some of you had it yesterday. Let us rest. Let us take pleasure, and then let us get to work. Let us stretch across boundaries. Stretch where it is uncomfortable… Let us do yoga of the heart and soul… Let us stretch for Peace. It’s really kinda urgent…

Gradual Peace, llvl

Building Community is a slow and gradual effort. It means making the effort to go to picnics in the park. It means showing up at the church yard sale and talking not only to the strangers but also to the people you know. It means hearing what’s right and what’s wrong in their lives. It means sharing the same. It means laughing at whatever nonsense occurs and soberly waiting for the hard news.

All in all, it’s a pretty amazing exercise.

And here’s the great thing, it makes life better. Building community is as much making life la vida local as is appreciating the local landscape.

Today I was thinking about it because I was working at the church yard sale. I ran into lots of my fellow members, no big surprise, but I ran into a whole bunch of people I knew from other places in my life. Nurses who cared for my parents, my 10th grade American History teacher, a woman who eats breakfast at the same diner that I do… someone I see when I go there, but we’ve never chatted. A dear friend that I never run into. It’s a rich and wonderful stew.

I’m an extrovert, so yard sales are overwhelming. Too many people and too much stuff. But hey, this contributes to my salary, so I’m going to be there. And it’s fabulous if tiring. And some people love doing this. Some love setting it up (some just do what they’re supposed to) and some love shopping (and some just hold purses!)

But all in all… it’s building community. And Building community is building Peace. And that? is a very good thing.

Local Peace, llvl

This was a real living la vida local peace. Picnics made easy… set up in the park and get comfortable. Walk to the food truck and get fabulous food (really? Egyptian and Mexican food in downtown L-burg?). Wander back to the vendors for ice cream… local ice cream of course.

Chat with old friends. Wave at acquaintances. Cuddle the kids that haven’t yet grown out of it. Take pleasure in watching the connections grow up. Hear from the local committee about plans for the riverfront reclamation. (hopefully they’ll reclaim it from the poison ivy… oh, yuck!). Tubing was discussed at length.

This isn’t a perfect place. There’s a lot of work to do. But when you spend some time building connections, it’s easier to do the work.

And hey, sometimes you just have to put your feet up and have a little local Peace. And who knows? You might just run into your nephew at the bar when you stop for a drink to hear the band. And life? will be just all right! Peace and la vida local. it’s all right.

Re-membering Peace, llvl

For some reason I’ve always liked the prod that the hyphen gives this word… to-remember, to put the body back together.

Today it’s a year that Debbie died. It’s extraordinary. It’s excruciating. and… it’s life.

And we remember so many as we remember one beloved… so many beloved dead. Which means nothing more than one was incredibly lucky in life, I suppose… to have loved and been loved so well.

I will remember the morning. Katy and I giving her a bath. Watching Katy, learning from her gentle conversation and loving touch.

At the end, Kathy, Nancy, Tom and I gathered around the bed. Elijah, were you there? can’t remember, because memory is faulty. Friends gathered in the living room. Keeping watch, sitting vigil.

The last moments. That last moment of goodbye. Oh it pains and tries to obscure the joys and the laughter… But re-membering means putting all the joy and the laughter back in.

That’s where the Peace is… hmmm. still piece work, eh? piecing together Peace. And the sun rises and the sun sets and the sun rises again.

Mysterious Peace, llvl

In between writing this musing celebrating the glories of Autumn mornings and my rather late start to my blog post, I attended a Town Council Committee meeting in Bloomsburg (a neighboring town) which is considering enacting a non-discrimination clause. They’re looking at this because a bridal shop refused to do business with two lesbians looking for wedding gowns because their marriage would be unbiblical. (don’t get me started about the Bible and marriage.)

Here’s the one thing I’ll say in their defense. They have been hacked and they have received death threats. Their pastor wondered who would stand for them. Um, the police and the FBI. Those things are illegal.

This is not a religious issue, this is a civil rights issue.

What the mists slowly revealed along with all the bounty and the beauty was ignorance and fear. People don’t understand what freedom of religion is. People don’t understand what discrimination is. And perhaps to my mind the worst is that people don’t understand that they need to stand up for what is right.

The bridal shop has a perfect right to go out of business based on their religious beliefs and become martyrs. But people have a right to be served in the public sphere. The lawyer assured me that the specter of gold stars could not be raised because there were laws protecting people. Um, I don’t think he knew what specter means… and when someone said “I’m not protected,” he said, well, no…

I was bitterly disappointed that there were no mainstream Christian clergy represented today, standing on the side of love and justice. I’m sorry the council allowed people to talk about sharia law and didn’t stop them and explain (why yes I stood up then) that in fact enacting Christian laws IS the equivalent of shaira laws.

This is an important issue, my dears, people’s right to housing and employment is at stake. We like to think that “they” could just take their business elsewhere, but the fact is if you’re open for business, you’re open for business… And the GLBTQ folk deserve to be protected — because they are people. And as long as they’re not protected they’re at risk and we’re complicit in that risk. Let’s go.

Shaky Peace, llvl

People often say, “oh, I wouldn’t want to live there” as they watch people deal with flood, earthquakes, tornados, droughts. But the fact is there’s not a place on Mother Earth where both the Earth and Nature don’t have their way with us.

When the land moves in CA and when volcanoes explode in Iceland, it’s frightening. And it’s the Earth, stretching, belching doing what it’s always done.

But when we see escalating storms and extreme weather patterns, when the winds rise and the waters decline from our actions we do little or nothing.

It’s true but frightening, the Earth will go on without us. We, however, will not do much without the Earth. At what point are we moved to make Peace with our lives and the future of our children and their children?

Not Really Trying Peace, llvl

It’s possible that I’m the only person in the world not living up to her potential, not being consistent and concerned. If so, read this to scoff. If not, maybe there’s something here for you.

If you’ve been following me, you know I was privileged to spend five weeks in Sweden with dear, dear friends. Never has working hard at friendships paid off so insanely well. And really, if you’ve got kids, consider Rotary’s year abroad. It’s no less than life-changing.

One of the many things I really noticed (and if I don’t write them down, how will I remember?) is how different their approach to packaging is. How little they use anti-bacterial soaps. How efficient their household appliances are. Their waters are clean, You stop to pick up the few pieces of litter. You ride a bike or a bus or a train. (If it’s any consolation, they also flunk infrastructure renewal.) Their veterinary practices concerning antibiotics are the gold standard for the world…

Life is cleaner there. And before you start telling me it’s easier because Sweden is smaller… stop. It’s the same size as many of our states, and it seems we compete for worst polluters. Nature and Mother Earth are just as badly affected by our litter and pollution here as they are anywhere. How do we hold the Earth as sacred?

I’m someone who understands at least a bit the results of lackadaisical attention to the world and the climate… and yet, I do things out of laziness. There is no culture that encourages and teaches us (because I don’t believe I’m the only culprit, which isn’t an excuse for my bad behavior, it’s just a reality.) to reduce our use of products/medicines/ that pollute, ok, let’s say damage, our environment.

So I’m going to start, painstakingly, doing it differently… I hope we all will. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Sadly Seeking Peace, llvl

It always seems unthinkable when a child dies. All that promise suddenly disappearing from life. The laughter, the scents, the quirky mind, the strengths and the foibles — all gone in an instant.

A million whys, a thousand: well how did it happens can’t change the sad reality — can’t help us escape which is really what we’re wanting.

I’ve been thinking about child death a lot recently: the news reeks with it. I’m too familiar with this — too many dead children in my life. Too many dead children in the world that has become immured to the sight and forgotten the individual horror in these mass killings…

And then a chance encounter in the back yard with my senior high neighbor whose friend had just died with that agonizing burden of a friend, recently seen, now gone. Asking the hows and the whys but really, just wanting his friend back.

As a minister, I need to call those in my community whose hearts are breaking, the parents, the kids — oh the kids. Making dates to enfold and love. Standing steady for those who have collapsed in grief… Thinking gratefully that I have been so filled up from this summer that I can stand firmly in love for them. This is their tragedy not mine…

But inside, as a sister, oh, I missed my sister as I recall receiving my father’s call about my nephew and making the call about my niece. Sweet and Holy One, can I really have had to tell my sister and her husband their only remaining child was dead? And we were the ones who always called each other when bad news broke.

Please, my dears, say nothing other than oh, I’m so sorry, Oh, your poor hearts, O your blessed child. Release the I don’t know how you bear its because they have no choice… They don’t know how they bear it either. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Call your family together, gather with your neighbors, immerse yourselves in Love, because Life is so damned precious and so damned fleeting. Peace eludes us in these moments. Hope is too far away. Only Love can keep our hearts beating in one common humanity of grief and eventually acceptance and then the far off healing of a grievous scar. Let us tend to one another and let us weep… Each child in each vida local, precious and needed. Each parent’s loving heart…

Peace Is Not the Color of Blood, llvl

Yesterday in this blog, I wrote, in dying color, thinking back to an old ad for some film process… and it pierced my heart.

I allowed myself to go on retreat. We all need that. Whatever we do. As a person of faith and action, I’ve needed some time to fill up, to be at rest, to be in prayer. It was amazing. But, when we’re done, we come home, back to the world.

Coming back to this world right now has been shocking. Someone said there are 47 different wars going on right now. I don’t know if that counts Fergeson, MO. The level of violence is gruesome and grisley and overwhelming.

I’m not sure what the best response for me is at the moment. But I’m thinking. I’m reading. I’m praying (hard). I’m talking with my counselors… I’m searching, in what I hope is not just a Pollyanna way for Hope… looking for ways that I might contribute to Peace in whatever fashion I may. One fashion will be feeding children, that’s for sure.

But I’m also mourning. And at the same time, my courage and conscience are firming. All children are our children. I believe there is another way or rather other ways. I know so many who are finding small ways forward. I hope we all are. Forward into Peace.

Sacred Village

Building a World of Peace, Village by Sacred Village.

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