Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion – put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
“Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front” from The Country of Marriage, copyright © 1973 by Wendell Berry
Friday, November 25, 2011
On Communion
On my final Sunday at Robinson Evangelical United Methodist church I was permitted to consecrate the elements and serve communion to the congregation. It was an honor and a joy. It is so good to belong to a church with an open table. While I have had the joy of worshipping and working with a variety of Christian traditions, I always am thankful to end the day belonging to a tradition that readily shares the good news that God's grace is available to all through the symbolic act of allowing all to come and eat. While I am certain that every church has their doctrinal reasons and a proper theology for limiting who may recline at the table with Jesus; I rejoice in the United Methodist churches choice to welcome all.
On that Sunday, a visitor and her children sat near the back. As they came forward for communion, she was in tears. Her children had never experienced communion. They didn't know the ritual or tradition. They had never seen it before. We offered the bread to the small child and gladly proclaimed, "Jesus loves you!". I had been licensed and appointed for one Sunday only. As I left the tiny town with the hearty Methodist church, I had to turn in my certificate granting me permission to serve communion.
It hurt more than I thought it would. I knew that I would serve communion again soon, but I didn't know when or where,
With little feeling left in my thumbs from the pressure of the tightly secured handcuffs, I sat in a holding cell with more than a hundred others who had been arrested for protesting the extreme wealth inequality and level of corporate influence in government policies. We had occupied the Brooklyn Bridge to give voice to our movement and the millions of people who go to bed hungry every night in America. 700 of us had been arrested for our actions.
The boy sitting next to me was visibly terrified. He was slight and young. Like most of us, he had never been arrested before. As the hours passed, the police officers brought us food. The word "prison" is used as an adjective to describe food for a reason. The peanut butter sandwiches were meager at best. The milk was warm. The crust was so hard I wasn't even sure it was bread. I ate my sandwich in peace as I talked with Steven. He was from Florida and came up to New York city for the protests. He had thought that he could make a difference.
I asked him when he had eaten last, and he couldn't remember. Without thinking I opened the bag containing his sandwich and proceeded to pull the crusts off. I handed him the edible part of the sandwich and encouraged him to eat something. I pried open the milk carton and placed it in his hand. In my head I said a small prayer. I thanked God for opportunity to experience what so many Americans know as daily life. I thanked God for the meager provisions, and the way at they would be transformed through the act of thanksgiving and the great miracle of the living banquet. I took a deep breath and explained to Steven that I was a missionary; and that if he needed to talk about anything I was here. As he ate the bread and drank the milk one long tear fell from his face and we began a conversation about life and hope.
In the largest Methodist Church I have ever attended, I was one of many serving communion this Sunday. The pastor had taught me months before that when serving communion to a child, you always crouch down to their level. She makes certain that everyone serving is able and willing to look every child in the eye as they come up to receive communion. It's a simple thing, but one that I had never thought about before, but it makes all the difference. So many children passed through the line that my knees ached with exhaustion for lowering myself to their height.
I hope that communion doesn't lose its mystery and joy for me any time soon. We spent an entire class session during college trying to "figure out" communion. Trying to quantify in which way God works through the elements. In hindsight, this expenditure is laughable. Even if we could understand how God works through this holy mystery, I would ctainly hope that it would take more than a 45 minute class to figure it out!
As I reflect on communion, I am overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the miracle and the grace that it embodies. It is good to welcome all to this table, in every setting, all in God's grace.
On that Sunday, a visitor and her children sat near the back. As they came forward for communion, she was in tears. Her children had never experienced communion. They didn't know the ritual or tradition. They had never seen it before. We offered the bread to the small child and gladly proclaimed, "Jesus loves you!". I had been licensed and appointed for one Sunday only. As I left the tiny town with the hearty Methodist church, I had to turn in my certificate granting me permission to serve communion.
It hurt more than I thought it would. I knew that I would serve communion again soon, but I didn't know when or where,
With little feeling left in my thumbs from the pressure of the tightly secured handcuffs, I sat in a holding cell with more than a hundred others who had been arrested for protesting the extreme wealth inequality and level of corporate influence in government policies. We had occupied the Brooklyn Bridge to give voice to our movement and the millions of people who go to bed hungry every night in America. 700 of us had been arrested for our actions.
The boy sitting next to me was visibly terrified. He was slight and young. Like most of us, he had never been arrested before. As the hours passed, the police officers brought us food. The word "prison" is used as an adjective to describe food for a reason. The peanut butter sandwiches were meager at best. The milk was warm. The crust was so hard I wasn't even sure it was bread. I ate my sandwich in peace as I talked with Steven. He was from Florida and came up to New York city for the protests. He had thought that he could make a difference.
I asked him when he had eaten last, and he couldn't remember. Without thinking I opened the bag containing his sandwich and proceeded to pull the crusts off. I handed him the edible part of the sandwich and encouraged him to eat something. I pried open the milk carton and placed it in his hand. In my head I said a small prayer. I thanked God for opportunity to experience what so many Americans know as daily life. I thanked God for the meager provisions, and the way at they would be transformed through the act of thanksgiving and the great miracle of the living banquet. I took a deep breath and explained to Steven that I was a missionary; and that if he needed to talk about anything I was here. As he ate the bread and drank the milk one long tear fell from his face and we began a conversation about life and hope.
In the largest Methodist Church I have ever attended, I was one of many serving communion this Sunday. The pastor had taught me months before that when serving communion to a child, you always crouch down to their level. She makes certain that everyone serving is able and willing to look every child in the eye as they come up to receive communion. It's a simple thing, but one that I had never thought about before, but it makes all the difference. So many children passed through the line that my knees ached with exhaustion for lowering myself to their height.
I hope that communion doesn't lose its mystery and joy for me any time soon. We spent an entire class session during college trying to "figure out" communion. Trying to quantify in which way God works through the elements. In hindsight, this expenditure is laughable. Even if we could understand how God works through this holy mystery, I would ctainly hope that it would take more than a 45 minute class to figure it out!
As I reflect on communion, I am overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the miracle and the grace that it embodies. It is good to welcome all to this table, in every setting, all in God's grace.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Stand Up.
I've always felt so powerless concerning the issues of systemic poverty.
I felt that I wasn't doing anything to create the issue of poverty, but I also felt that I wasn't doing anything to fix the issue of poverty. I wanted to do something, but I didn't know what I could do.
On Brooklyn Bridge, with 700 other people who felt the same way, I had the chance to take a stand against an unjust system. While there are many who dismiss our actions, who laugh off the whole movement, or who twist the truth to highlight a few radicalized members; this has the potential to be a major turning point in our democracy. For the first time my generation is beginning to voice a social consciousness.
For many of us, it took leaving the safety of our parents socio-economic status to see and feel the need. Older adults are now 47 times wealthier than their younger counterparts. For decades they were ten times wealthier. Our generation might be the first to have a lower standard of living than that of our parents since the great depression.
Our decisions matter. The things we say and do have a tremendous effect on those around us. Here are a few simple ways that we can fight the systemic issues that lead to tremendous wealth inequality and speak out for those without a voice.
Live on less. Spend far less money than you do right now. When you get your paycheck put half of it in a savings account (through a credit union, local bank, or other option that feels comfortable to you and benefits your community) and don't touch it. You can live comfortably on half as much as you live on now. At the end of the month, after you have proven to yourself that you can live on less, use a large chunk of that money to pay off debt.
Debt is the enemy. Our national, personal, student, and credit card debt is what keeps us from living freely and doing the things that we want to do. Live on war-time rations and accept the hospitality of strangers until you are free from debt. Drive your vehicles to extinction to avoid new debt on a new car. You could live your entire life without ever making a single vehicle payment.
Shop wisely. Buy locally anything that you can. Encourage local small businesses even if it means spending a few extra dollars (after you are debt free, of course) on a few things. The less processed something is, the more likely it is to benefit the local economy with a fair wage job. Foodstuffs that are made overseas are loaded with enough chemicals to preserve them for shipping and shelf life. Our bodies survive better with fewer of these chemicals.
Tithe+. When we give generously of all that God has provided we make a radical statement. We prove that our allegiance is with the almighty Father and not the almighty dollar. When we give our churches are given the resources to grow and flourish and provide the social programs that address the needs of the people. I've read the rest of the book, and God wins - not the corporations or the empires that allow them to rob from the poor- God wins. When we give of all we have, we Act as though we know the ending of the story. It is a powerful message that our hyper-consumerist culture needs to hear. The Bible addresses the issues of systemic injustice some 2000 times. Try to read more than a page of the Bible without stumbling on something that addresses how God feels about the issue.
Speak out. People will think you are crazy or uninformed if you speak out against the wealth inequality. We are taught that our current system is infallible. Words that describe other economic realities are used as jeers and taunts. Speak out anyway. It is inexcusable for people to go to sleep hungry while others slumber with billions in the bank. We must demand that either they in invest that money to create fair wage jobs for our citizens or they expect that we will arrive with pitchforks to take it ourselves. We are not opposed to money, or even to wealth. We are opposed to those who have cheated, stolen, and tricked their way to the top and then refuse to allow others to climb the ladder fairly.
Pray much. Pray for God to intervene on behalf of the poor; and expect that God may ask you to do the same.
We are one community. Although we are divided along many lines, if one of us goes to bed hungry - we all suffer. When we diminish one child's hunger by claiming that his parents are lazy we diminish our claim to be children of God.
As I head back up to New York City to appear before a court, I have little fear in my heart. The worst punishment they could give me is nothing compared to the poverty that millions of Americans face every day. If some punishment is levied against me for marching and speaking out on their behalf, I will gladly accept it. I believe that the eternal punishment for all those who ignore the cry of the needy will be far greater.
"There is a higher justice.".
I felt that I wasn't doing anything to create the issue of poverty, but I also felt that I wasn't doing anything to fix the issue of poverty. I wanted to do something, but I didn't know what I could do.
On Brooklyn Bridge, with 700 other people who felt the same way, I had the chance to take a stand against an unjust system. While there are many who dismiss our actions, who laugh off the whole movement, or who twist the truth to highlight a few radicalized members; this has the potential to be a major turning point in our democracy. For the first time my generation is beginning to voice a social consciousness.
For many of us, it took leaving the safety of our parents socio-economic status to see and feel the need. Older adults are now 47 times wealthier than their younger counterparts. For decades they were ten times wealthier. Our generation might be the first to have a lower standard of living than that of our parents since the great depression.
Our decisions matter. The things we say and do have a tremendous effect on those around us. Here are a few simple ways that we can fight the systemic issues that lead to tremendous wealth inequality and speak out for those without a voice.
Live on less. Spend far less money than you do right now. When you get your paycheck put half of it in a savings account (through a credit union, local bank, or other option that feels comfortable to you and benefits your community) and don't touch it. You can live comfortably on half as much as you live on now. At the end of the month, after you have proven to yourself that you can live on less, use a large chunk of that money to pay off debt.
Debt is the enemy. Our national, personal, student, and credit card debt is what keeps us from living freely and doing the things that we want to do. Live on war-time rations and accept the hospitality of strangers until you are free from debt. Drive your vehicles to extinction to avoid new debt on a new car. You could live your entire life without ever making a single vehicle payment.
Shop wisely. Buy locally anything that you can. Encourage local small businesses even if it means spending a few extra dollars (after you are debt free, of course) on a few things. The less processed something is, the more likely it is to benefit the local economy with a fair wage job. Foodstuffs that are made overseas are loaded with enough chemicals to preserve them for shipping and shelf life. Our bodies survive better with fewer of these chemicals.
Tithe+. When we give generously of all that God has provided we make a radical statement. We prove that our allegiance is with the almighty Father and not the almighty dollar. When we give our churches are given the resources to grow and flourish and provide the social programs that address the needs of the people. I've read the rest of the book, and God wins - not the corporations or the empires that allow them to rob from the poor- God wins. When we give of all we have, we Act as though we know the ending of the story. It is a powerful message that our hyper-consumerist culture needs to hear. The Bible addresses the issues of systemic injustice some 2000 times. Try to read more than a page of the Bible without stumbling on something that addresses how God feels about the issue.
Speak out. People will think you are crazy or uninformed if you speak out against the wealth inequality. We are taught that our current system is infallible. Words that describe other economic realities are used as jeers and taunts. Speak out anyway. It is inexcusable for people to go to sleep hungry while others slumber with billions in the bank. We must demand that either they in invest that money to create fair wage jobs for our citizens or they expect that we will arrive with pitchforks to take it ourselves. We are not opposed to money, or even to wealth. We are opposed to those who have cheated, stolen, and tricked their way to the top and then refuse to allow others to climb the ladder fairly.
Pray much. Pray for God to intervene on behalf of the poor; and expect that God may ask you to do the same.
We are one community. Although we are divided along many lines, if one of us goes to bed hungry - we all suffer. When we diminish one child's hunger by claiming that his parents are lazy we diminish our claim to be children of God.
As I head back up to New York City to appear before a court, I have little fear in my heart. The worst punishment they could give me is nothing compared to the poverty that millions of Americans face every day. If some punishment is levied against me for marching and speaking out on their behalf, I will gladly accept it. I believe that the eternal punishment for all those who ignore the cry of the needy will be far greater.
"There is a higher justice.".
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