I'm Against Walls

 The America I have known, the Constitution that I gave oath to support is not about building walls of any kind, but about climbing over them or breaking them down wherever and whenever  they discriminate, produce hate, fear or ignorance; wherever and whenever such walls block freedom of thought or speech, justice, harmony and peace among peoples.  When we, as Americans, even think of building “great, great walls,” we have become what we have always been against!

I oppose the “great, great wall” on the southern border. I’m against building walls to separate white people from brown people and vice versa.  I’m against building walls to keep people in poverty.  I’m against building walls that intimidate, whether built of concrete, steel, attitudes, law, fear, prejudice, bigotry, lies,  religion or lifestyles.  I’m against walls built to keep people in and against walls built to keep people out.  I’m against walls of any kind.

For thousands of years, a wall of sorts has often been erected by secular and religious authorities to suppress views perceived as threatening.  This wall is the  banning and/or the burning of books.  Even though the First Amendment protects secular and religious books as “free speech” in America, churches and school boards have often ignored this important freedom.

Many books deemed to be damaging to faith and morals were banned by the Catholic Church in its Index of Prohibited Books (abolished in 1966).  All churches have done something similar. The Bible is banned in North Korea, and many parts of central Asia, not because it is a book of violence and “raunchy sex scenes,” but because it is deemed a threat to “national security.”  In May 1933, the first year of the Nazi government, there were book burnings (“Bambi” was banned).  In 2022, in Tennessee, Virginia and other places in America, books are again being burned and banned.  It is a wall.  I’m opposed to all walls!

"It's A Bust"

 D. Elton Trueblood’s Memorial service was held at Stout Meeting House in Richmond, Indiana in January 1995.  I was there to mourn and to celebrate the life of my beloved mentor and friend of nearly a quarter of a century.  Someone said at the service, “The first time I went to see him, I asked him ‘Who is Elton Trueblood?’  and with a twinkle in his eye he answered back, ‘Your friend.’”  Elton was that to me, “a friend,”and so much more.  

After the service I went to Teague Library (Elton’s study) across from the Earlham School of Religion which he had helped found in 1960. There on a bookshelf was a bronze sculpture of Elton, created by Jimilu Mason (1930-2019).  I was familiar with Jimilu through The Church of the Saviour in Washington, D.C. and with her sculptures of “The Servant of Christ” and “The Parable.”

When “The Servant Christ” (Christ offering to wash the feet of the people who pass by) was installed at Christ House (a medical facility for homeless men) many people questioned why Mason would want to have the piece displayed outside “where it would surely be abused”.  She responded, “there is very little they could do to him that hasn’t already been done.”  “The Parable” sculpture at The Festival Center shows a man seated on a large cinder block and at his feet is a carpenter’s square.  Dressed only in a shirt and pants, his shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows and his collar open.  His face wears a beard and mustache and his feet are shoe-less.  His arms reach out in front of him, and he looks as if in conversation.  Mason said, the sculpture “represents a Christ…teaching that there is more than brick and mortar to building a city.  The leaders must be good servants.”

I knew Jimilu through those works of art, but she was most famous for her “busts” of Lyndon Johnson, Hubert Humphrey, Sam Rayburn, and other notable personalities—including Elton Trueblood.  As I looked at the bronze bust, someone behind me said, “That should be at the Yokefellow Center.”  I agreed.

I carried the sculpture home in a carry-on bag.  It was heavy.  At the airport check-in, I was asked “what on earth do you have in the bag—a bowling ball?”  “No,” I replied, “It’s a bust.”  I’m not sure the fellow knew what kind of “bust” I was talking about.

Elton’s “bust” had a home at the Yokefellow Center for 17 years.  Then, it was placed in a box and stored away in the garage.  A week or so ago, I decided that Jimilu’s art and my beloved mentor and friend’s bust should not be hidden away.  After all it isn’t a bowling ball, it’s a work of art, it’s a memorial, it’s a bust!

My Namesake

 The definition of "namesake" is a person named after someone.  I was named after my Uncle Harold B. Owens, born August 22, 1922.  He died in 1941 at the age of 19, just a year or so before I was born in 1943. I have a few pictures of my namesake, a birth certificate, his 1941 high school diploma, and some old postcards from his neighbors and teachers.  In my study I have a framed picture that hung in what was once his bedroom that we (nieces and nephews) remember from our earliest years when spending an overnight with our grandparents.

That’s it!  That’s all I know.  That’s all that has been left.  My grandparents never talked about their  loss and grief, nor did my father talk much about his brother.  And I, like so many of us, never inquired.  Apparently he died of heart complications (whatever that meant back then).  Uncle Harold never experienced these autumnal years that I now live.

My name might have been Ronald, Edward, or Samuel were it not for Uncle Harold’s untimely death.  Funny, I’ve never thought about that much until now.

As  I sort through the “stuff of my life,” trying to decide what to toss and what to save, I find myself thinking about what little I know about my namesake and what little I know about “those who came before me.”  What I do know, and feel most keenly, is that each person in that “family” contributed to my life in some way.  My namesake gave me a name!

The Demise of Veracity

 What happens if we lose veracity?  Veracity means “conformity to facts and truth”.  Veracity synonyms include words like accuracy, credibility, honesty, and trustworthiness.  What happens if we lose these things?  I suppose what happens is the opposite, when the antonyms take over.  Antonyms of  veracity include words like deceit, dishonesty, falsehood, lying, and inaccuracy.

Nearly all of the Ten Commandments are concerned ultimately with persons.  In each instance, an act is seen as evil, not in abstraction, but in its effect on human beings, who are precious because they are made in God’s image.  Killing, for example, is evil, because it is persons who suffer and die.  Theft is evil because it is taking something that belongs to another person.  Lying is evil because it harms one’s neighbor. 

All these moral laws are simply ways of showing what it means to uphold the dignity and value of human life, including that of others as well as our own.  All of us seek the dignity and value of our own lives, but the moral law says we ought to seek the same for other members of the human family.  The moral laws are detailed applications of what it means to “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Unless veracity is part of the foundation of our society and democracy, we labor in vain.

Hodge-podge

 Hodge-podge is a soup or stew.  I like hodge-podge, especially at this time of year.  Leftover ham, with onions, garlic, celery, carrots, beans, and other mixed vegetables has become a favorite. The really neat thing about hodge-podge is that you can put it together with almost anything (and everything) that happens to be in the fridge or the pantry cupboards. 

I suppose that is why the word “hodge-podge” has come to mean “a confused mixture” (rather than a soup or stew) in our modern vocabulary.  Synonyms for hodge-podge include words like:  agglomeration, assortment, grab bag, melange, potpourri, etc.  

This writing is a hodge-podge—an assortment of things that cause annoyance; a mixture of things that rankle in my mind and irk my soul on occasion. And believe you me, there are many!

The first annoyance came in reading a FaceBook post that said:  “God is watching over you, I know because I asked him to.”  This blows my mind.  Does the person mean that God only watches over those for whom he or she asks God to watch over?  Does it mean that “my will, desire, wish” is the only thing that will cause God to watch over another person? Does it mean that God does what I want God to do?  What kind of God is that?  

Another thing that often disturbs me is the prayer:  “God bless me and my family.”  Even “God bless America” irks my soul on occasion.  Why?  Because it eliminates most of God’s children, most of God’s beloved community.  Is God around only to bless America?  Is God only concerned with your concerns (my family)?  What about all the other people, all the other nations of this world?  Do we want only to be blessed ourselves and not ask or seek God’s blessing upon everyone and every nation?

The New Testament is not afraid to use the word “all.”  And we should not be afraid  to use the word in our thought and prayer.  In fact, the New Testament focus is on “all” and not just some.  “I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all (men) to myself.”  “…so also in Christ shall all be made alive.”  “God so loved the world…that he gave…”  “I have other sheep, not of this fold.”  Christ “gave himself as a ransom for all.”  

It is impossible to set limits to the grace of God—and yet we try to do so. Let’s stop doing it.  

Basking In the Joy of the Joys

It seems like only yesterday that I wrote:  “I’m basking in the “joy” of the Joys this morning.  Liam and Katherine Maria Joy of England (via FaceTime) shared that joy with us yesterday.  They are expecting their first child in November.  This anticipated joy of the Joys will be our third great grandchild.

Katherine Maria (aka Katie, and for me, her grandad, aka “Katydid”) is the daughter of our Rachel.  Katie is our oldest granddaughter.  We have only two, Katie and Eleni, and both, as the song goes, “light up my life.”  Matthew, Austin, Nick and Ethan, our grandsons, light up my life, too.  Our first two great granddaughters, Addison and Delaney, daughters of Rachel’s son Matthew and his wife, Emily, only add to the brilliance of that light, as will the joy of the Joys.”

I wrote the above in 2019. Elodie—the joy of the Joys—is now two years old.  We’ve only met via FaceTime.  COVID has prevented travel across the pond and  a face-to-face meeting. Yesterday, Katie called to share once again a joy of the Joys.  They are expecting their second child (my fourth great grandchild) in late July.  The joy of the Joys gives me great joy!

Elton Trueblood Speaks To Our Predicament

 

D. Elton Trueblood wrote a little book in 1944 titled “The Predicament of Modern Man.”  Reinhold Niebuhr said the book was “An able and profound analysis of the spiritual situation of our time.”   That “time” was 1944—we are now in the year 2022—and the “predicament” remains.

I was struck this morning by this passage from Trueblood's book:

“Just as some declare their faith in science without inquiring sufficiently into the structure that makes science possible, others assert that their faith is in democracy.  But a democratic way of life can by no means stand alone.  Its success or failure depends, not primarily on political issues, but on the unargued principles and premises that the citizens of a democracy already espouse.  Ultimately it depends on the faith of the people, and this fact is demonstrated by the failure of the most modern democratic societies when the supporting faith is weak or non-existent.

Democracy does not succeed by creating a system of counting votes.  It depends far more on whether we retain the essential dignity of man (human beings).  Can man, the individual, respect himself and his neighbors?  If he cannot, the most elaborate system will break down.  Lacking respect for himself and failing to trust others, he is easily appealed to by a demagogue who asks the citizens to trust him and him alone.  Loss of the sense of human dignity thus leads to (Caesarism) Authoritarianism.”

Democracy has “for its inner soul or substance a special and peculiar cluster of ideas,” said W.T. Stace in “The Destiny of Western Man”.  “I call them a cluster because they cling together.  They imply one another.  The chief members of this cluster are the ideas of (1) the infinite value of the individual; (2) the equality of all people…; (3) individualism; (4) liberty”.