"They take Alfonso/ And no one stands up..." What Canst -- or Will -- Thou Say?

Today, after reading Kaminksy's poem below, I was thinking of Martin Niemöller. He was a prominent German Lutheran pastor who emerged as an outspoken public foe of Adolf Hitler and spent the last seven years of Nazi rule in concentration camps. He is perhaps best remembered for the quotation which seems timely to me:

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

I've been thinking:

First they came for the Mexicans, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Mexican.

Then they came for the African Americans, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a African American.

Then they came for the other non-Europeans, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a non-European.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me

While I am a Quaker who loves silence (and have even written a book about it's importance!), as the writer of Ecclesiastes says:

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

...a time to be silent and a time to speak...

This is not the time for public silence. It is a time to -- with discernment, but not necessarily caution -- to speak.

Town Watches Them Take Alfonso

by Ilya Kaminsky

Now each of us is
a witness stand:

Vasenka watches us watch four soldiers throw Alfonso Barabinski on the sidewalk.
We let them take him, all of us cowards.

What we don’t say
we carry in our suitcases, coat pockets, our nostrils.

Across the street they wash him with fire hoses. First he screams,
then he stops.

So much sunlight—
a t-shirt falls off a clothes line and an old man stops, picks it up, presses it to his face.

Neighbors line up to watch him thrown on a sidewalk like a vaudeville act: Ta Da.
In so much sunlight—

how each of us
is a witness stand:

They take Alfonso
And no one stands up. Our silence stands up for us.

"Our silence stands up for us."  What canst -- or will -- thou say?

Humble Stumble: Hymns for Imperfect Saints: "City of Immigrants"

I have a started a project in conjunction with my "The Humble Stumble: Lessons on Simplicity, Stillness, Fashion and Faith from a Bad Quaker" book. It's on Spotify -- "Humble Stumble: Hymns for Imperfect Saints."

I'll add a "hymn" a day.

These are not "hymns" in the traditional sense. Rather they're songs that have spoken to my soul in a spiritual sense -- even if they are not "spiritual songs" per se. Though my bias is that that our hearts hunger for beauty and meaning and when artists create something that sings deep in our souls, well, they've created a "hymn," even if it was unintentional.

Suggestions of songs that have spoken deeply to you are welcome!

I'll also post lyrics and video (when available) here.

Today's hymn is  Steve Earle – City Of Immigrants [With Forro In The Dark] (reminds me to see that of God in everyone, as we Quakers say).

"City Of Immigrants"

Livin' in a city of immigrants
I don't need to go travelin'
Open my door and the world walks in
Livin' in a city of immigrants
Livin' in a city that never sleeps
My heart keepin' time to a thousand beats
Singin' in languages I don't speak
Livin' in a city of immigrants

City of black
City of white
City of light
City of innocents
City of sweat
City of tears
City of prayers
City of immigrants

Livin' in a city where the dreams of men
Reach up to touch the sky and then
Tumble back down to earth again
Livin' in a city that never quits
Livin' in a city where the streets are paved
With good intentions and a people's faith
In the sacred promise a statue made
Livin' in a city of immigrants

City of stone
City of steel
City of wheels
Constantly spinnin'
City of bone
City of skin
City of pain
City of immigrants

All of us are immigrants
Every daughter, every son
Everyone is everyone
All of us are immigrants - everyone
Livin' in a city of immigrants
River flows out and the sea rolls in
Washin' away nearly all of my sins
Livin' in a city of immigrants

City of black
City of white
City of light
Livin' in a city of immigrants
City of sweat
City of tears
City of prayers
Livin' in a city of immigrants

City of stone
City of steel
City of wheels
Livin' in a city of immigrants

City of bone
City of skin
City of pain
City of immigrants
All of us are immigrants

Steve Earle's website is http://steveearle.com/

Red and Yellow Black and White, Allies, part 4: The Humble Stumble

“Damn Hispanics,” muttered the cab driver as we drove west on Indianapolis’ Washington Avenue. We had just climbed off the train which had arrived at 5:00 a.m., too early to call family for a ride. It was the middle of a hotter than usual July, the air conditioning on the train had gone out, we were hot, tired, hungry, and ready for showers and some sleep. We were not ready for a racist screed.

At least I wasn’t. But that’s what we got as we made our way out through the city past buildings proclaiming bodega, foto estudio, restaurant, and more. “They’re ruining our city,” he moaned. “I wish they’d all just crawl back to Mexico.”

Now I’d like to say that I rose up in righteous indignation and told him to be quiet. Or better yet, engaged him in a serious dialogue about bigotry and race in Indianapolis. But I didn’t. I leaned my head against the window, shut my eyes, and try to tune him out.

It wasn’t one of my proudest moments.

But it was learning one. It was one that reminded me that seeing that of God in others was more than just an internal thing. Sometimes it require action or speaking out.

Sigh.

As an introvert, I’d really just as soon keep things to myself. But if I truly do believe that seeing that of God in others means treating others as if they were equals is something I needed to actively put into practice. After all, if someone slighted Nancy or my kids or my closest friends, then I wouldn’t hesitate to rush to their aid or defense. I wouldn’t sit quietly by. How could I be quiet if I believed that the Hispanics in the neighborhood I had just passed through were as equal and Nancy and I in our cab?

Double sigh.

Especially disconcerting, the more I thought about it, was that I remained silent that day while being a position of power. Yes, I had the power of being a customer. I had the power of a tip. I had the power to complain to his employer. And a fair amount of that power came from the position in society that I have – an educated, middle class white heterosexual male. That privilege may not be something I aspire to or want, but society affords it to me regardless. While I believe, and try to live by the belief, that I am no better or worthy than any of the other people in whom God’s light shines, the fact is that I am treated differently than some of those other people. I first noticed this in a real way when I walked into the place I bank in Philadelphia. I was wearing sunglass and a hat (to keep my little bald head from getting sunburned). There was a sign there that said “Please remove any hats and sunglasses.” I saw some Black men in front of me, holding their hats in their hands. I got in line with my hat firmly atop the great white expanse and my sunglasses on. This was hard, as I typically am a rule keeper not a rule breaker. But I wanted to see what might happen. The guard, who was Black, looked at me. But didn’t say anything. Some younger Black men came in and were promptly asked to take off their hats and sunglasses. I completed my transaction, was treated courteously, all with hat on head and sunglasses on my face. No one said a word.

I do this everytime I visit that bank. Nobody’s said anything to me yet. While men of color are asked to doff their hats and glasses.

Which is why I’m finding it important, as a spiritual witness to my belief of that of God in all people, be an ally to those who see not being treated equally because of their race, class, sexual orientation, ability, gender, and much more. Being an ally is an action that puts me in touch with that of God of in others in a tangible way by helping me develop an understanding of the personal and institutional experiences different from myself, but equally embued with God’s Light.

Part of that is pondering what would I experience now if I were a person of color, a woman, disabled, gay? Again, not as a political exercise, but as a child of God.

How can I act as if I truly do believe there is that of God in every person? Should I

• step into a situation in which a person of color is being ill-treated by someone who looks like I do?
• speak out about a situation in which I don’t appear to have any vested interest: 
• interrupt a comment or joke that is insensitive or stereotypic toward a group
• commit to the personal spiritual growth I needto be genuinely supportive. 
• promote a sense of inclusiveness and justice in the places I work – and worship!
• create an environment that is hospitable for all – including at church
• share power inclusively
• create opportunities for trust
• form authentic relationships with those who are “other”

If I’m going to be a friend of Jesus – which I endeavor to be! – I need to learn to be a vocal, public witness for his love of all people. Not easy for an introvert, who likes to work quietly, even on Christian justice issues. So no more quiet taxi rides for this bad Quaker. If I get another bigoted taxi driver, I hope to engage him or her as a beloved child of God in a gentle, but direct conversation about how I really don’t want to be exposed to such thinking.

Either that or I’ll keep quiet… and walk the ten miles home.

Sigh. Why isn’t following the way of Jesus easier?

Red and Yellow Black and White, They are Precious in His Sight, part 3: The Humble Stumble

"Don’t look at me in that tone of voice.” If I had a five dollar bill for every time I’ve heard Nancy say that to me, well, I’d have a lot of five dollar bills. Looking at her in that tone of voice is one of my failings – it’s a look that conveys irritation, exasperation, and frustration. A look nobody should get. Especially someone I love. Especially someone who I can easily (well, most of the time anyhow) see that of God in.

So, before taking on seeing that of God in everyone in the entire world, it might be good for me to practice at home. After all, if I can’t see it there, chances are I’m not going to be able see it in some white supremacist or Islamic jihadist. Especially since I find both of those types really annoying and just plain wrong in their views.

Well, maybe seeing God in a white supremacist or Islamic jihadist would be easier. After all, they are examples of people Iwill most likely not run into often. Or have to live with. They are abstractions to most of us. Wheareas our spouses, kids, neighbors, coworkers and other regular contacts are people that inhabit our lives with all their imperfections.

Yes, imperfections. The idea of looking for that of God in everyone doesn’t deny that the people in whom God dwells are imperfect. They’re human, too! Just like we are. Imperfect. Just like we are.

The first step in seeing that of God in anyone is seeing them as fully human as we see ourselves. And accepting them in that humanity. they are trying to live up to the leadings of God (even if they don’t call it by that name) as we are. Being a horrible human being is rarely on anybody’s agenda. “I think I’ll get up today and be a real son of a bitch,” said no one ever. They may have gotten up and acted like a real son of bitch – but rarely, in their thinking, were they one. They had their reasons for doing the things they did. Fully justifiable (in their minds and hearts) for doing them. Hmmm, just like I me!

Part of the reason for looking for that of God in others is that whole love thing. It is really hard for me to be hateful to someone I love. No matter how good a mad I’ve got on. So long as I look at someone through the eyes of “the mad”, I can keep that hate heat banked and smoldering for quite a while. And I don’t really “look” at them anyhoo. I look all around them. Above them, below them, beside them. But not into their eyes. When I look into their eyes, I begin to look into their soul, their eyes being the window of their soul, as Shakespeare said. When I look into their soul, that’s when I see that of God there – loving them, guiding them,

Another reason is to be able to call them into living up to it. In the same way we do ourselves. As we pay attention to promptings of God within our hearts and souls, we begin to live more fully into Spirit’s presence. We know that it sometimes helps to have someone help us by reminding us, too. Like when I’m at work and say something completely outrageous that is not quite true and my good friend Deborah cocks her head and gives me a look that says, “Really? Really??” Sigh, no, not really. I could be a little more careful with the truth.

There are two things that I’ve learned that help me see that of God in others.

• Making caring for others a daily practice. I come first. I am the center of my universe. Except, of course, I’m not. I need to balance my needs and wants with those of others – especially those others I spend lots of time with. As I care for people, they become less abstract and more real as children of God, worthy of the love, respect, and care I desire for myself. And by being kind, I model the deep, deep love of God.
• Practicing gratitude – being thankful for the people who share life with me, helps me see God’s providing, watchful care over me. God has blessed me with these people in my life. All of them. I can whine about the annoying ones (and shut down God’s promptings of love in my own live) or I can be grateful for the gift of life and its varied experiences. Wow, that sounds pretty Jack Handy-ish, doesn’t it! But it’s true. Studies show that people who are in the habit of expressing gratitude are more likely to be helpful, generous, compassionate, and forgiving—and they’re also more likely to be happy and healthy. Wow, seeing that of God in others has health benefits?? Who knew!

Red and Yellow Black and White -- That of God in Them?! Really??,part 2: Humble Stumble

Guided by the Light of God within us and recognising that of God in others, we can all learn to value our differences in age, sex, physique, race and culture. … Jesus stressed the unique nature and worth of each individual. … Personality, sex, race, culture and experience are God’s gifts. We need one another and differences shared become enrichments, not reasons to be afraid, to dominate or condemn. -- Meg Maslin, Britain Faith and Practice

I find it easy to accept the Quaker belief that the Bible tells us there is that of God in other people – at least I find it easy to accept on the surface. That’s because when I first think about it I hear “there is that of God in other people like me.” So yeah, sure, there is that of God in other white male Quakers. I’ll even concede white female Quakers. Quakers of all races. Even Quakers of all ages (though some of the YAFs (Young Adult Friends) are hard to take by an OAF (Old Adult Friend) like me). Heck, I even believe that about other Christians. Well, most other Christians. I’m not sure about some of those on the….

Most of the time I can sorta get my head around how that might be translated in a vague, goodwill sense like the old, politically incorrect phrase, “the brotherhood of man.” After all, it was long said of Quakers that we believed in the Fatherhood of God, the brotherhood of man, and the neighborhood of Germantown (Philadelphia, where many of us settled back in the day).

Actually, though, it’s a radical, life-changing concept. If, we really think about it, that is. If, as George says, we’re to answer that of God in everyone then … um… that means that there is that of God in everyone. Everyone. Every One.

It means God treasures us equally (even if my friend Katie does wear a t-shirt that says “Jesus Loves Everybody… but I’m His Favorite.”). We are all God’s favorites. It’s easy – on a good day – to see myself as one of God’s favorites. On a really good day I can see my family and friends as God’s favorites. On my rare best days I can feel a sense that all 7.157 billion of us on this planet are. Usually just a sense, though. I mean, seriously, God loves EVERYBODY as much as God loves me?? Yikes. If that’s true, I’d better start treating people better. From my family to that panhandler outside Reading Terminal.

Realizing that God loves us all equally is good for me. It begins to teach me humility. While I’ve often joked that I’m proud to be a humble Quaker, I struggle with ego. I need to heed the words of Paul, “Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought…” (Romans 12:3 (NIV))

This “that of God in everyone” was even more radical when Quakers first discovered it in Scripture. It was the seventeenth century after all.. What this spiritual concept meant in daily life and ministry was that they began seeing people differently and treating them differently. For one, women. At the time the Quakers came into being, there continued discussions about whether women even had souls. The Quakers affirmed that they did and what’s more they could preach and teach and travel in ministry away from their families every bit as much as any man could.

Of course, as I said, it was the seventeenth century and their views weren’t universally embraced – except that a woman had as much right to be imprisoned or hung for her faith as any man. Just watch the Mary Dyer segment on “Drunk History” if you don’t believe me (Danger: bad language in it!).

And the equality was, to be honesty, a different kind of equality than today. It was the almost four hundred years ago after all. It didn’t immediately usher in universal suffrage or equal rights. But it was a start – and way radical for its time. Samuel Johnson's opinion of a female Quaker preacher was, "Sir, a woman's preaching is like a dog walking on his hind legs. It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all."

Besides treating women more equally, they also took Galatians 3:22 to heart – “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (NIV) And so they trips around the world to call them to Light of Christ that was already in them. They traveled throughout the Americas, the Caribbean, Europe, and more. In 1658 she felt led to visit the Ottoman Empire and share her faith with the Sultan Mehmed IV. In 1658!! Traveling on ship and then by foot, when she she reached the Sultan’s armed camp, she asked for audience with the Sultan, saying that she was an ambassador of ‘The Most High God’. She was granted an audience, testified to the “Universal Light,” and then, declining his offer of an armed escort, she made her way, alone, back to Constantinople and, eventually, England. There she wrote:

“Now returned into England ... have I borne my testimony for the Lord … there is a love begot in me towards them which is endless … Nevertheless, though they be called Turks, the seed of them is near unto God.”

This belief is why Quaker kids (and adults sing)

There's a Light that was shining

when the world began,

And a Light that is shining in the heart of man:

There's a Light that is shining

in the Turk and the Jew,

And a Light that is shining, friend,

in me and in you

and why Quaker have been in the forefront of such things abolition of slavery, women’s rights and suffrage, equal rights, immigration reform, and much more. Not that we’ve gotten it right every time – we haven’t always practiced the equality we preached (see Fit for Freedom, Not for Friendship: Quakers, African Americans, and the Myth of Racial Justice by my friend Vanessa Julye and Donna McDaniel for a number of good bad examples). We still don’t get it right. Many Quaker meetings are exceedingly white and middle class. But many of us are trying to live up to the ideal. And knowing what should be done and not always doing it are part of the humble stumble. Even Paul recognized that:

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. … For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. – excerpts Romans 7:15-19 (NIV)

One of the things to note about this passage, and the Quakers failings in equality (and other areas!), is that the failure is in the action – the carrying out of the conviction. The acting on the axiom. So we begin, despite failures, again and again to see that of God in others. All others. It means believing that all people have that of God in them -- white, black, yellow, Christian, Hindu, Muslim, Buddhist, agnostic, atheist, rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief, deaf, sighted, blind, paraplegic, geniuses, Down’s syndrome, European, Asian, homeless woman, smart-mouthed teenager, bad driver, and on and on



But how do we live that out?

Red and Yellow Black and White, They are Precious in His Sight, part 1: The Humble Stumble

Answering that of God in everyone…George Fox

“The that of God in me is really having a hard time seeing the that of God in thee today,” I said once to a Quaker whom I was finding more than a little bit annoying. And I’ve thought that a bunch more than once. “That of God in everyone” is one of those quirky Quaker concepts based in scripture. John 1:9 specifically. “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.” Everyone being the operative word. “Red and yellow, black and white” as the old children’s Sunday school song says. Also straight, gay, bi, man, woman, trans, boy, girl, Christian, Jew, Muslim, atheist, and on and on. We Quakers think it’s part of the Gospel, not some clunky add-on.

As radical Friends of Jesus, the early Quakers took that as a literal truth. If I’m enlightened by the light of Christ and the Bible says that everyone else is, then I’d better start looking at them with enlightened eyes. Sounds simple. But it’s often difficult. Sometimes I have a hard time recognizing that of God in myself – let alone in someone who just cut me off on the freeway or jumped in front of me in the boarding line of a flight. You know, the important things of life!

And yet that’s what George Fox, one of the first Friends, told us we were to do – to answer that of God in everyone. Actually he said we were to walk cheerfully over the earth answering that of God in everyone.

Cheerfully?! Wonder if he and Jesus would settle for grudgingly answering that of God in everyone? Nah, probably not.

Which is why I had to change my attitude recently when someone called and wanted to come for a visit. “I’d just like to get to know you better,” he said. Well, I had been out mowing and running a line trimmer in the August heat. I was sweaty, grass covered, and almost finished. I’d have to finish the job some other day and go get a shower and dress in clean clothes.

I was not a happy Quaker camper. I was job obsessed and not in the mood for chatting. But, I thought as I looked across the yard and saw Nancy weeding, it’s not all about me. I thought of that while looking at her because she tells me that all time. So I put the trimmer up, took a shower on, applied some cheerfulness along with my deodorant, and put on my freshly cleaned, grass free glasses – ready to look for that of God in Nancy and my newish friend. And in everyone else I might encounter that day.

I say “that day” because this is something I seem to need to learn anew everyday.