Yeah, we're screwed
The most recent pro-torture bill passed by the Senate is really, really, f'n scary. President Bush will be able to lock up anybody he wants for as long as he wants. I'm mad at the Democrats and the Republicans--this is politics at its worst.
How is it wrong? Let's count the ways.
Basically, we've all lost rights without gaining any safety. I was talking with someone the other day about a slightly different issue. His attitude was, "Well, I'm willing to give up some rights for those other people, if it means that I'll be safer." I've got bad news for you, friend: a threat to justice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. What's to stop this from spreading to American citizens, now that we're able to detain legal residents?
President Bush likes to use the words "freedom" and "democracy" a lot, but this bill proves what he's really interested in: absolute power.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Exercise in Vanity
Hey folks,
If you'd like to help analyze my personality, here's the link:
my Johari Window
Feel free to start your own meme.
Hey folks,
If you'd like to help analyze my personality, here's the link:
my Johari Window
Feel free to start your own meme.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Addendum to Sept. 11 Reflections
So, when I got home on Monday night, I flipped on C-Span (hoping for some good BookTV, honestly) and caught some of the 9/11 memorial service. Wow, were there a lot of quasi-religious/state religion hymns being played: God Bless America, et. al. And of course the requisite "Amazing Grace." Not that I don't love the song, but what does that have to do with September 11th? Especially when they left out the verse having to do with toils and snares? Basically, it was spiritual comfort food - not challenging, and bad for your health.
What was refreshing, though, was a reading from Matthew. I didn't see the whole ceremony - I was listening to the TV for a lot of it - but I found a certain pleasure in watching President Bush as the Beattitudes were read slowly and very deliberately. These are some of Jesus' most radical teachings - one that upset the order of the politically powerful in favor of the poor, the meek, and the mournful. The best part was when the camera zoomed in, right as the reader said, "Blessed are the peacemakers," in his flat, loud voice.
Interesting choice.
So, when I got home on Monday night, I flipped on C-Span (hoping for some good BookTV, honestly) and caught some of the 9/11 memorial service. Wow, were there a lot of quasi-religious/state religion hymns being played: God Bless America, et. al. And of course the requisite "Amazing Grace." Not that I don't love the song, but what does that have to do with September 11th? Especially when they left out the verse having to do with toils and snares? Basically, it was spiritual comfort food - not challenging, and bad for your health.
What was refreshing, though, was a reading from Matthew. I didn't see the whole ceremony - I was listening to the TV for a lot of it - but I found a certain pleasure in watching President Bush as the Beattitudes were read slowly and very deliberately. These are some of Jesus' most radical teachings - one that upset the order of the politically powerful in favor of the poor, the meek, and the mournful. The best part was when the camera zoomed in, right as the reader said, "Blessed are the peacemakers," in his flat, loud voice.
Interesting choice.
Monday, September 11, 2006
5 Years Later
So yesterday, as part of our church's "Candle of Hope" liturgy, I gave a little speech about September 11th, and how it really took away our sense of security, as a nation. But I realized about midway through the talk, that I still don't have a lot more to say about September 11th five years later than I did about a month after it happened, except to be generally outraged by the war in Iraq that was generated (stupidly, stupidly, stupidly) out of the patriotic energy and fear that September 11th caused.
The Christian faith has at its core a simple prayer Jesus taught to his disciples. One of its lines, which people pray all over the world every Sunday, and every day, in some cases, is "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us."
While I recognize that forgiveness does not necessarily mean doormat behavior, I'm pretty sure that hunting down and killing our enemies does not constitute forgiveness. That US politicians took that route shouldn't surprise me, and doesn't, really -- the United States is not a Christian nation, no matter how much rhetoric goes into arguing that it is. (And usually it's the rhetoric espoused by the same people calling for all-out wars of revenge)
Do I think that the US should become Christian, in the sense of acting, as a whole, according to Christian values of forgiveness, peacemaking, and justice?
I had been planning to say no, but I actually think that we should. God's wisdom for us in how we live out our lives may not seem immediately practical or useful or realistic. But in the end, the only way for us to have peace is through peace, not through war.
So what would that mean for us for today? Health care for those hurt by the cleanup process at ground zero. Interreligious dialogue that helps moderate people of all faiths unite in providing a counterbalance to extremism. Recognition by Americans that, in fact, one American life is of the same worth, the same value, in God's eyes, as any other life, whether it be Iraqi, Chinese, Russian, Colombian, Mexican, Sudanese, or any other.
So, five years later, I pray for peace.
Blessings,
Amy
So yesterday, as part of our church's "Candle of Hope" liturgy, I gave a little speech about September 11th, and how it really took away our sense of security, as a nation. But I realized about midway through the talk, that I still don't have a lot more to say about September 11th five years later than I did about a month after it happened, except to be generally outraged by the war in Iraq that was generated (stupidly, stupidly, stupidly) out of the patriotic energy and fear that September 11th caused.
The Christian faith has at its core a simple prayer Jesus taught to his disciples. One of its lines, which people pray all over the world every Sunday, and every day, in some cases, is "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us."
While I recognize that forgiveness does not necessarily mean doormat behavior, I'm pretty sure that hunting down and killing our enemies does not constitute forgiveness. That US politicians took that route shouldn't surprise me, and doesn't, really -- the United States is not a Christian nation, no matter how much rhetoric goes into arguing that it is. (And usually it's the rhetoric espoused by the same people calling for all-out wars of revenge)
Do I think that the US should become Christian, in the sense of acting, as a whole, according to Christian values of forgiveness, peacemaking, and justice?
I had been planning to say no, but I actually think that we should. God's wisdom for us in how we live out our lives may not seem immediately practical or useful or realistic. But in the end, the only way for us to have peace is through peace, not through war.
So what would that mean for us for today? Health care for those hurt by the cleanup process at ground zero. Interreligious dialogue that helps moderate people of all faiths unite in providing a counterbalance to extremism. Recognition by Americans that, in fact, one American life is of the same worth, the same value, in God's eyes, as any other life, whether it be Iraqi, Chinese, Russian, Colombian, Mexican, Sudanese, or any other.
So, five years later, I pray for peace.
Blessings,
Amy
Friday, September 08, 2006
The Grade Demon
So, I don't know how much background my readers will have in dealing with race and racism. I've only recently started exploring it more in depth as part of my new job. But I wanted to share something new that I learned during the course of a training at orientation earlier in August.
When I was in seminary, I liked to joke that there was a little voice inside me that forced me to work really hard so that I could get the A. Not that I didn't have this all through school, but in seminary I named it "the grade demon." This is the little creature inside that whips you when you get a B+ or an A- at Harvard.
During the antiracism training, we were talking about how society is structured to benefit white people, and if you are white and don't take advantage of that privilege, well then, you're white trash. Being white means you have to live up to a certain standard to validate the racist system.
So I was wondering what that might mean for me, and I realized that that's what my little grade demon is about. It's what racism feels like for a white person -- the constant drive to be good enough, and better than good enough, in order to earn love. It's a repudiation of the grace that God has for all people.
White people I know usually work too hard. I remember one woman from college, in particular, who would always, always, ALWAYS talk about how busy she was. And she was always very busy. I started out joking about the little grade demon, but I've come to see it as demonic in a way -- something that's taken possession of us, driving us without our even really knowing why, without any sense of proportion.
This is not the way God intends for us to live. Yes, it is good to work hard, it is good to make an honest living, and it is good to contribute to society. But God has also created us for rest, for enjoyment, and for pleasure. Racism is not just a problem for minorities. It hurts whites, too. We reap the benefits of living in a racist society, but those benefits come at a high cost.
So, I don't know how much background my readers will have in dealing with race and racism. I've only recently started exploring it more in depth as part of my new job. But I wanted to share something new that I learned during the course of a training at orientation earlier in August.
When I was in seminary, I liked to joke that there was a little voice inside me that forced me to work really hard so that I could get the A. Not that I didn't have this all through school, but in seminary I named it "the grade demon." This is the little creature inside that whips you when you get a B+ or an A- at Harvard.
During the antiracism training, we were talking about how society is structured to benefit white people, and if you are white and don't take advantage of that privilege, well then, you're white trash. Being white means you have to live up to a certain standard to validate the racist system.
So I was wondering what that might mean for me, and I realized that that's what my little grade demon is about. It's what racism feels like for a white person -- the constant drive to be good enough, and better than good enough, in order to earn love. It's a repudiation of the grace that God has for all people.
White people I know usually work too hard. I remember one woman from college, in particular, who would always, always, ALWAYS talk about how busy she was. And she was always very busy. I started out joking about the little grade demon, but I've come to see it as demonic in a way -- something that's taken possession of us, driving us without our even really knowing why, without any sense of proportion.
This is not the way God intends for us to live. Yes, it is good to work hard, it is good to make an honest living, and it is good to contribute to society. But God has also created us for rest, for enjoyment, and for pleasure. Racism is not just a problem for minorities. It hurts whites, too. We reap the benefits of living in a racist society, but those benefits come at a high cost.
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