It's all connected ...

Anyone who's read these musings for any length of time knows my passion for addressing the systems of oppression that have created and which perpetuate the brutal dehumanizations of institutional, systemic racism.  This is work that I feel passionately about.

Yesterday I saw a link on a friend's Facebook page to an article by Mary Karr in The New Yorker magazine, "The Crotchgrabber: on a shockingly casual case of sexual assault."  Ms. Karr writes about an incident in which a stranger approached her on the street and grabbed her crotch.  The "casual" in her title refers to the manner in which he did this.  "[A]n approaching guy chatting equably with a tall friend dodged at me to grab my crotch ... he grabbed between my legs with a meaty claw, big as a waffle iron.  He also called me the C-word ... then he passed on into a sandwich shop with his buddy."

Earlier in the day I'd read another piece, a post on the blog of a woman named Erin Bailey, in which she asks, "What Do We Deserve?"  She details some of the ways she has been mistreated -- dehumanized, really -- because of her gender and her appearance:  "What do I deserve?" she asks:

I deserve to be treated like a human, not just a woman, because that means something different these days. 

And us women, what do we deserve? 

We deserve not to feel silenced by your yells. 

We deserve to feel empowered for bettering ourselves. 

We deserve to feel sexy in our own skin without feeling like we're hear to bait you. 

We deserve to speak out without the threat of you lingering on our minds. 

We deserve to run outside. 

We deserve to be judged on our merits, not our outfits. 

We deserve more.  A whole lot more.

According to feminist.com, one-out-of-every-five American women has been the victims of an attempted or completed rape in their lifetime, and 44% are under age 18; 80%.  [See the rest of their statistics if you want to be deeply disturbed.]

While I was away on vacation a congregant left on my desk another article from The New Yorker -- "White Plight:  is whiteness a privilege or a plight?",  written by Huan Hsu.  Reading it I couldn't help but think of the anonymous comment that was left following my recent post, "Where is my Outrage?" expressing the view that the real evil we face as a nation is the economic (and, I would add, cultural) caste system that disadvantages, disenfranchises, and dehumanizes poor whites.  There is a truth to this view, a reality that many liberal whites would like to ignore because it makes the fighting of oppression even more difficult.  This poor white anger often expresses itself in racial categories -- racist words and actions -- yet to simply write it off as racism is to miss the point of the intersectionality of oppressions.  [In my response I noted that in Michelle Alexander's The New Jim Crow:  mass incarceration in the age of colorblindness, Ms. Alexander demonstrates pretty conclusively that there has been an intentional effort by the wealth, white, elite to pit poor whites and people of color against one another so that there would be little likelihood that they would recognize the common source of their oppressions and work in solidarity to overthrow the system that keeps boots on both of their necks.)

About a year ago a friend -- my first college roommate -- embraced her identity as a transgender woman.  She came out publicly on Facebook and in her daily life.  Today she posted what seemed to me essentially a "thank you" note to all of her friends who had been supportive.  In other words, she was thanking people for not rejecting her because of her gender identity.

from Mary Crawford’s Transformations: Women, Gender, and Psychology

It would be nice -- not quite the word to use, I know -- if the problem we face as a nation was racism.  Or sexism.  Or homophobia.  Transphobia.  Ablelism.  Classism.  Ageism.  Human-ism (by which I mean the elevation of humans above the rest of the natural world that has led to such degradation of our planet, not the philosophical/religious stance).  The inhuman treatment of undocumented immigrants.  I could go on.  The website Interrupting Oppression has a list of 20 different "isms," certainly is incomplete.  The Anti-Oppression Network identifies nearly 30, yet it also no doubt is not exhaustive.

It would be "nice" because it's easier to get your head around trying to tackle one of these issues, and if they're truly interconnected it becomes a knot that seems impossible to untangle.  I'll confess -- as I seem to be doing more and more lately (a sign of maturity, maybe?) -- that I don't know what to do with this.  I am seriously overwhelmed.  In just the past two days I have been confronted with seemingly different examples of "man's inhumanity to man" (sic), yet I know that they are really different manifestations of a single evil.  (And yes, I know that folks of my ilk rarely use the word "evil," but is there any other?)

This post really is a musing.  I'm not sure where to take it; I'm not even sure that I'm saying much of anything that's worth saying.  To add to the confusion, while looking up something for this post I came across the article,  #JeNeSuisPasLiberal:  entering the quagmire of online leftism, by David Auerbach.  It's a long and academic work -- and one I'm still trying to work my way through -- yet I think it's really important for those of us who see ourselves as "liberal" or "progressive" (or, at least, as people working for social change) to consider what he's saying.  One thing that my musing this morning makes very clear to me:  nothing will change if we insist on trying to simplify this incredibly complex puzzle, especially if we also insist on judging/condemning anyone who calls attention to any of the myriad of complicating factors.  Nothing.  You cannot affect change without understanding the problem.  This is particularly difficult when the world you live in is the problem.

Pax tecum,

RevWik 

The Wisdom of Our Elders

This is the sermon I preached on June 14th, 2015 at the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church - Unitarian Universalist in Charlottesville, Virginia.  You can listen to the podcast.

Thinking about Alex’s ordination this afternoon has had me in something of a nostalgic mood for my own.  I watched the video of it the other night and was reminded of the charge given to me by my friend, mentor, and minister, the Rev. Ed Lane.  Now … Ed could easily have looked and sounded at home in a colonial Unitarian or Universalist church, and would be an easy casting choice for a movie company looking for a Captain Ahab.  Wonderful man.  Great minister.  And O what a voice!  On that afternoon twenty years ago, he ascended to the pulpit and said that he had been in the parish ministry for forty-eight years – with a twinkle in his eye he noted that that was a year longer than the preacher of the day had been alive.  Then looked directly at me to say:

“My first bit of advice to you, Erik, is this:  don’t try to be an old curmudgeon until you are one.”

I have tried to live my life by that advice.

I’ll admit that in general sermons are kind of difficult for me to write and to preach.  I often step up here and look out at a room of people whose collective wisdom astonishes me, and I think of the hubris it takes to say a word.  So many know so much more than me.  And none have lived any less; learned any less about what it means to be alive.  And as I sit before my blank piece of digital paper my mind often goes blank as well, thinking how challenging a task it is to try to mine my little life for a glimpse of wisdom when what I really want to do is sit down and listen to you.  Many of you do not realize this, of course, and will probably even want to disagree with me, but you have lived such lives!

This sermon, in particular, has been difficult knwoing that this is a topic that Arthur has thought about for a long, long time.  He has a real passion for it – elders and wisdom.  In fact, he even wrote a draft of a sermon for this morning, something I hope you’ll all stop by the church’s blog to read.  It’s worth it.  Go to thetalkoftjmc (all one word) at blogspot.com.  Look for it on Tuesday.

I think if I had to boil Arthur’s sermon down to one sentence it would be this –  “We treat elders as objects when they are our greatest untapped resource.”  This is key to understanding not only his sermon, but, I think, perhaps Arthur himself.  So let me say that again, “We treat elders as objects when they are our greatest untapped resource.”

Think about that.  Really think about that.  In the dominant culture of the United States it is thought that once you have reached your euphemistically called “golden years” you’ve really done just about all that you’re going to do.  We measure meaning by how productive one is, and one’s productive years are assumed to be long gone as our hair color, or the hair itself, begins to go.  So we treat elders, as Arthur says, as objects because the culture’s focus has turned to trying to satisfy the physical needs of old age.  Geezerhood, as several of you call it, is a time for you to settle back from all the hard work of your earlier years and to now receive – by which we mean receive help with a seemingly ever-increasing list of ailments and afflictions.  (You know, they say that the short term memory is the first thing to go … and so is the short term memory.)

That may be what the prevailing culture says, but I meet every other week or so with our incredible Active Minds group – the group of “over 65” folk who meet in the church parlor on Thursdays at 1:00 to talk about … well … to talk about all sorts of things.  Let me tell you, there absolutely are some active minds in that crowd and our conversations can become quite … wide-ranging in scope.  No mere objects in that room.  Or in this.

Would those of you who are over 65, and willing to do this sort of thing, please rise in body or spirit?  (This is something Arthur thought we should do today, and I agree.)  Now, will those of you still sitting look at those who are standing and ask yourself what you see … who you see.  And now will those of you who are standing look at those who are sitting … who do you see, and how do you think you’re seen?  (Thanks.  Y’all can sit.)

Arthur told me that he experiences our community as counter-cultural.  Most of us younger folks (and even those who see people like me as old) actually recognize the importance of the elders in our midst; recognize the gifts they have to offer; recognize the lessons one learns over the course of a lifetime and the perspective the long view offers.  (And perhaps that’s a pretty good definition of wisdom – lessons learned over a lifetime seen through a long-view perspective.)

Yet even here the ageist bias can rear its ugly head.  I remember meeting with the Active Minds group early on in my ministry because a group of church leaders was worried that perhaps we weren’t doing enough to support the church’s elders and that we were not providing real opportunities for their meaningful involvement in church life.  I was sent to ask the group what it thought – always a good idea when you’re thinking of doing something for someone – and the almost universal response was:  we’re okay.  They said, essentially, we were “meaningfully involved” for years and now we’re happy to leave all that hectic activity to the younger folks.  Yet with all the passion of someone who’s not really listening I kept trying, “but … but … but … you have so much to offer!”  Their response was, pretty much, to gently pat my hand and say, “that’s nice dear.”

I still wonder if we could be doing something differently.  I do wonder if there’s some way to tap what Arthur calls, “our greatest untapped resource.”  He’s thinking nationally, perhaps, but it’s certainly true at the local level to.  And yet within the last couple of weeks at an Active Minds meeting part of the conversation is how hard it is to even try to keep up with the announcements of all that’s going on here, much less overcome the myriad of obstacles to getting “meaningfully” involved.  It’s something to keep thinking about.

And part of what makes me want to keep thinking about it is an international project that always inspires me when I think of it.  It’s called, quite simply and quite appropriately for this morning’s sermon: “The Elders.”  Let me quote from their website:

The concept originates from a conversation between the entrepreneur Richard Branson and the musician Peter Gabriel. The idea they discussed was simple: many communities look to their elders for guidance, or to help resolve disputes. In an increasingly interdependent world - a ‘global village’ - could a small, dedicated group of individuals use their collective experience and influence to help tackle some of the most pressing problems facing the world today?

Richard Branson and Peter Gabriel took their idea of a group of ‘global elders’ to Nelson Mandela, who agreed to support it. With the help of Graça Machel [former Minister of Education and Culture in Mozambique] and Desmond Tutu [who needs no introduction], Mandela set about bringing The Elders together and formally launched the group in Johannesburg, July 2007.

And what a group they are.  In addition to the aforementioned Mandela, Machel, and Tutu, the Elders consists of:

• Former President of Finland and Nobel Peace Laureate  Martti Ahtisaari;
• Former member of the Indian Parliament and founder of India’s first women’s bank (sometimes called the “gentle revolutionary”), Ela Bhatt;
• Former UN Secretary-General, Nobel Peace Laureate and current Chair of The Elders, Kofi Annan;
• Former Algerian freedom fighter, Foreign Minister, conflict mediator and UN diploma, Lahkdar Brahimi;
• First woman Prime Minister of Norway and current Deputy Chair of The Elders, Gro Harlem Brundtland;
• Former President of Brazil, Fernando Cardoso;
• Former President of Mexico, Ernesto Zedillo
• Former President of the United States, Jimmy Carter;
• Pioneering lawyer, pro-democracy campaigner, and a leading activist in Pakistan's women's movement, Hina Jilani; and
• First woman President of Ireland and former UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, Mary Robinson.

 Hardly a group of mere objects.  Hardly people put out to pasture.  Most definitely a powerful, global resource.  We don’t hear about their work much, but they are out there, all over the place, doing all sorts of great things.  (Google them.  You’ll be amazed.)  None hold political office now, yet they each have the experience, the connections, and the earned respect that lets them be in those places where we need … well … where we need the wisdom of an elder.  We don’t hear much about their work, which is a shame and probably a result of the prevailing culture of dismissiveness toward elders … even elders such as these.

Given the history of so many societies having councils of elders as an important and integrated part of their culture and practices, one can only wonder why this one group hasn’t spawned offspring everywhere.  Ageism is a prevalent aspect of modern societies through the globe; it’s not just here. 

And that may bring us right back around to the point that I think both Arthur and I want to make today, a point that perhaps can go without saying and which therefore may all the more need to be said:

Our inherent worth and dignity is not limited to the time of life when our hearing was good; usefulness and productivity are not synonyms; just because someone has lived a long life doesn’t mean that there isn’t life left to live.  The wisdom I see when I look around this room – and I would dare say especially looking at the white and greying hair in this room – is astounding to me. When I walked around schmoozing during our recent Elder’s Dinner I was truly in awe.  And you who were there, being looked at in awe by me and by the others who were serving, probably had no idea that you could engender such feelings.  But you did.  You do.

So … non-elders … when you look at those who are, wherever and whenever you encounter them, remember to open your eyes, your ears, your heart to their wisdom and the contributions they are still making and have still to make.  And you … elders … I encourage you to take the chance and the opportunity to share who you are and what you are.  The rest of us need what only you can offer.

Pas tecum,

RevWik