Explaining Syria to My Pacifist Children

My children have been raised on the stories of Les Mis, Hairspray, Newsies and Rent.  They don't always have to be musicals.  We watch Alkeela and the Bee, Freedom Writers and, because they love them so much, we throw in the occasional documentary as well.  Even my youngest children have been watching edited versions of movies that portray the struggle of the marginalized of our society since they were way too little.

During our summer vacation, we spent 50$ just so my children could stand here:

Later that day, we drove to Birmingham and went to the 16th Street Church. We talked about the children who were killed and others jailed during the civil rights marches.  



 And we stopped and chatted with three homeless men who live at the Birmingham Civil Rights park, "A Place of Revolution and Reconciliation" and we talked about the irony of the entire situation and how disappointed MLK would be to see three African American homeless gentlemen living on the very spot where others died so they could have a better chance at justice.

So, basically,  my kids are always pumped up and ready for a righteous fight.  A fight for justice.  A fight to stand for the oppressed and abused.  It is a pretty hyper-sensitive way to live actually, especially when there is no fight to fight on a daily basis.  I feel sorry for their teachers because my kids will defend the Church and the poor beyond their own pride, reputation and social standing.  I hear that class discussions are tricky.  We laugh at ourselves a lot.

But now my children may have a chance.  We are on the brink of another war.  Perhaps a bad war. And they have questions.  

Last night we began by googling the history of this most recent conflict.  It began in 2011 when some school children were kidnapped and tortured by Syrian government forces after they wrote some anti-government opinions on a wall.

The citizens saw the injustice and went to the street asking for justice and democracy.  During the peaceful protest, Syrian government forces shot their weapons into the crowd and killed 4 people.  At the funerals of these victims, the government shot into the crowds again, killing another one.

What began as a peaceful protest had now turned into a full fledged civil war and it has been going on for two years now.  The Syrian people against the Syrian government.  It is violent.  So many have been killed.  So many have fled.  It is really terrible.

And now we hear that the Syrian government used weapons against its own citizens.  Chemical Weapons that are so horrible they are internationally against the law.  People suffered under the torture of these weapons.

Can you feel it?  That gut wrenching awareness of the horror going on in Syria?  Hell yes! Bomb Them! Bomb them to God!  How can we let such horror go unpunished? 

My kids felt it too.  They had lots of questions but two main topics arose:

1.  Why shouldn't we go to war against such evil people?  
and 
2. If war is not an option, do we do nothing?

1. Why not war?  Although my brother and I disagree on so many things, including this, he gave them the most perfect answer...I quote

" If we hit Syria, dominoes start to fall. What does Iran and Hezbollah do? What does Russia do? Will there be a follow-on ground invasion to secure those chemical weapons, otherwise who gains control of those - al Qaeda?

What happens when Egypt then explodes along with Gaza and and the Golan heights, then Israel is forced to respond. Now you have a regional war. With Russian backing one side and us backing the other. It's a world war 3 scenario again."

That is why we don't bomb them. It doesn't solve the problems of evil in Syria, it just spreads the evil to the rest of the world causing senseless death and destruction.

2. Do we do nothing? No. We don't do nothing. We pray. Don't mistake my intent or giggle. I am not saying that we quietly hope or we think positive thoughts. We don't update our statuses or tweet our desire for peace.  We don't use our wish as we blow out candles. This is not superstitious nonsense.

WE PRAY

We commit to days of fasting. We blow the dust off of our rosary, call our friends and start meeting at church in the wee hours of the morning and the late hours of the night. We call down the intercessions of our holy Saints, of Saint Michael the Archangel and of God The Almighty Creator of the World and the Heavens above it. Don't screw with me on this. I am not joking. If Christianity is the faith you have signed up for, than we must believe that Jesus told Peter and every disciple who would follow to put down his sword, his gun, his bomb and his righteous vengeful spirit.

Now is the time. Join in Prayer.

Making Bad Decisions

One of my favorite Catholic Worker stories is the tale of the diamond ring.

"Tom Cornell tells the story of a donor coming into the New York house one morning and giving Dorothy a diamond ring. Dorothy thanked her for the donation and put it in her pocket without batting an eye. Later a certain demented lady came in, one of the more irritating regulars at the CW house, one of those people who make you wonder if you were cut out for life in a house of hospitality. I can't recall her ever saying "thank you" or looking like she was on the edge of saying it. She had a voice that could strip paint off the wall. Dorothy took the diamond ring out of her pocket and gave it to this lady. Someone on the staff said to Dorothy, "Wouldn't it have been better if we took the ring to the diamond exchange, sold it, and paid that woman's rent for a year?". Dorothy replied that the woman had her dignity and could do what she liked with the ring. She could sell it for rent money or take a trip to the Bahamas. Or she could enjoy wearing a diamond ring on her hand like the woman who gave it away. "Do you suppose," Dorothy asked, "that God created diamonds only for the rich?"

What a waste of resources.  Giving this poor women a diamond ring when the money could have gone for a more practical purpose.  That is the way we think, isn't it?  We are very earthly, considering each financial decision with a magnifying glass of economic scrutiny.  Wondering if our interest rates are passing the Dave Ramsey seal of approval.  Maybe we are hoping that God, when our judgment comes, will be so impressed with our credit rating that not only will we get into Heaven, we will win a free t-shirt too.

Catholic Worker is does not have a history of making safe, practical decisions.  Dorothy used her rent and electric bill money to print the first issue of The Catholic Worker.  She was late with both bills, so I sure hope God didn't pull her credit report to see if she was overdue.  CW is not practical.  Christianity is not practical.  I refuse to be practical. 

I will not enter Heaven as God's unprofitable servant.  I will not take the faith and joy and money He has given me and bury it in some bank account somewhere out of fear that it will be misused.  I will not be scared to live on the fringe of society.   I will not wait for permission to do the right thing. 

In 1939 heading into 1940, Dorothy wrote her new resolutions:

"To pay no attention to health of the body but only that of my soul. To plan each day upon arising.  And in the evening examination of conscience.  To waste no time.  More charity."

I adopt these resolutions as my own.

Damn Shame

Many years ago, when I was in training for my first official social work position, our trainer introduced us to the most hopeless of social work concepts.  She looked at us with a somber expression and said, "Young social workers, it is time I introduced you to the saddest part of your job.  The most tragic families you will ever meet are the "Damn-Shames."

"You will meet this family over and over.  Mom's drinking and ends up losing her kids? 
That is a damn shame.

Dad got deported? Left behind a wife and three kids who are now losing their home? 
That is a damn shame.

10 year old neglected by his family?  Smelly, bullied, hungry, failing?
That is a damn shame.

They are all just a damn-shame.  But there is nothing you can do about any of them.  No one expects you young social workers to solve every problem and heal every hurt.  Do what you can and then go home at the end of the day and enjoy your family. Put it out of your head and move on with your job."

Jesus had things to say about the damn shame cases too. 

"For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost. 12"What do you think? If any man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go and search for the one that is straying? 13"If it turns out that he finds it, truly I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine which have not gone astray.…

If God brings a lost soul into my life, it is not a damn shame.  But may my shame be forgiven  if I ignore God's command on my life.

From Bolivia

We have to travel into town a bit to find an Internet cafe, but I am here today, typing on a computer circa 1990.  I try to be as honest as I can when I write, maybe to a fault, so I will tell you that our trip has been fairly miserable thus far.

We had $600.00US stolen from us going through customs which put a major damper on our touristy plans.  Then two days later my two middle children fell seriously ill and were hospitalized for two days.  When the staff found out we were from the US, the quality of care plummeted and the cost skyrocketed, which is nothing compared to the black fear we felt for the lives of our children. We thank God and for all the intercessions that they are healthy again. 

My plans of retreat and time in prayer seem almost comical at this point, as I can´t seem to find energy to even reach for a bible.  I am filled with a cranky, bratty, self imposed pity party that I can´t seem to shake off.

I have lots to share about the comparative poverty and the attitudes of our culture towards economy and the poor versus those from this under developed nation; might not be what you would have imagined.  But for today, I want thank all of you for your prayers for my children and our family and to ask that they continue.

All Things in Christ,

Susan

Just Shut Up

Many years ago when my children were younger we ran through Arby's drive through for dinner.  The line was long after I had a longer day.  Service was slow and I was cranky.  By the time we got to the window I was in no mood to talk to anyone while the cashier was chatting away.  When I didn't respond with friendly banter, she turned slightly and said "Stupid Bitch."  I heard it.  My kids heard it.  Shit was about to hit the fan.   I parked my car and marched into the store and proceeded to get her fired.  Fired and humiliated as her boss made an example out of her to her co-workers and patrons.

The next day I saw her walking along the road, pregnant and alone.

I heard today that a person I know committed suicide.  We were not close but I saw her maybe once a month and we spoke.  I have never been nice to this person.  We have known each other for 3 years and for the past 3 years, once a month, I have used her as an opportunity to make people around me laugh at her expense.  I have never been supportive; always critical and harsh.  The word I most often used to describe her was "stupid". 

I wish I could tell you why.  I wish I could explain why I have been so horrible to someone who, created by God Himself, had never ever said a mean word to me; has never been anything but kind and sweet and patient with me. 

I had a part, however small, in the darkness that led her to take her life.  I added to her pain and her hopelessness.  I created a wound that can never be healed. 

I don't have any great theological point to make today.  I am the greatest of sinners.  My heart is breaking and shame is crashing over me in waves.   I am remembering all the times my words have hurt and I am wondering how much damage I have caused.   This is poverty.  It has almost nothing to do with how much money you have in your pocket and almost everything to do with the pain you carry in your heart.   This is the poverty that will always be with us.  Our answer is to sit and love those who feel unlovable.  To help carry the burdens that others cannot put down.  May God have mercy on my soul.



Make us worthy Lord to serve our fellow men throughout the world,

who live and die in poverty and hunger.

Give them through our hands, this day, their daily bread

and by our understanding love give peace and joy.

Lord, make me a channel of thy peace.

That where there is hatred I may bring love,

That where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness,

That where there is discord, I may bring harmony,

That where there is error I may bring truth,

That where there is doubt I may bring faith,

That where there is despair I may bring hope,

That where there are shadows I may bring light,

That where there is sadness I may bring joy.

Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort than to be comforted,

To understand than to be understood,

To love than to be loved.

For it is by forgetting self that one finds.

It is by forgiving that one is forgiven,

it is by dying that one awakens to eternal life.

Amen.

The Pepsi Machine

There is a Pepsi machine that is located at our apartment pool.  It is the source of a great deal of frustration and, I imagine, bruised toes.

This machine has been broken for two years. 

We sit at the pool and watch as person after person, men, women and children try to beat the odds.  It will take your change but won't give you anything to drink.  It won't take dollars.  In fact, far as we can tell, they don't even refill this machine anymore.  Anytime you press a button it reads "out".  But it still looks pretty. It's still plugged in and refrigerating empty space.

There is no sign warning you, everyone just knows its broken.  Everyone even warns everyone else as they approach the machine, just in case they don't know. "It's broken!" is called out many times each day.  Every so often, even though we know it is broken and it's going to take our money, someone tries again...ya know, just in case it has been fixed. 

Nope, it is never fixed.  It is always broken.  It will not give you a can of soda. Ever.  Never, ever, ever.  But maybe..? NO! Don't we understand? It is broken.  It cannot physically do what it was created to do. 

I was in a professional training yesterday that was teaching the power of positive thinking and how it can make our ability to be successful so much greater.  I spent most of the training sitting, feeling pretty negative, actually.  Because it would be nice if that were so, but it's not true. Positive energy is a bourgeois luxury because when you have the resources to create success, success perpetuates success which creates its own positive energy.  Positive thinking has to be based on something historical that reminds you in your past, at some point, you have been successful and you can be again.

The oppressed and poor in our community.  Honestly, if they only exuded more positive energy...right?  Our system is broken. Our economy, our educational systems, our family systems, sometimes even our churches...they are broken.  They are not providing society what they were created to provide.  They create hurdles and road blocks to even the tiniest attempts of improvement.  We continue to hope, to place our trust and faith in these systems, because we hear rumors that somewhere, someone found a Pepsi Machine that actually did give them a soda.  But for way too many, these systems, these machines that are meant to provide the essentials to us, are just broken.

When we warn someone that the system is broken, it is not because we are expressing negative energy.  It doesn't matter how positive I am that the machine will give me a soda...it never will.  Children hope that education will lead to success.  Adults hope that they can overcome labels of "felony" or "default" or "credit risk" and have financial security.  Immigrants hope if they go through the legal steps and learn the language that they will be accepted as equal members of our community.  Broke, broke, broke.

My positive energy comes from this fact:  God loves us.  My faith is no longer in failing systems but in God who never fails. 

Chesterton, Lewis, and Modernity: The Infallible Sign of the Presence of God

By Charles D. Beard

If they find a Christian mistaken in a field which they themselves know well and hear him maintaining his foolish opinions about our books, how are they going to believe those books in matters concerning the resurrection of the dead, the hope of eternal life, and the kingdom of heaven, when they think their pages are full of falsehoods on facts which they themselves have learnt from experience and the light of reason? —Augustine, on why we should avoid literal interpretations of the Bible

One time before his conversion, Augustine tied himself in knots because he had to deliver a speech honoring the Emperor. In true political form, he said of it: “I was to deliver many a lie, and the lying was to be applauded by those who knew I was lying.”

Before he was to deliver the speech, he saw a drunk beggar wandering the streets of Milan, happy that he’d made enough to get a full belly and a drink. And Augustine hated himself because he knew that the beggar was happier than he was.

Many years later, as a bishop, Augustine reflected on this experience: “He had not, indeed, gained true joy, but, at the same time, with all my ambitions, I was seeking one still more untrue.”

In other words, Augustine says that the drunk was closer to God than he himself was — because at least in that moment, the drunk was happy.

So let’s talk about how Christians hate joy.