Choosing Choice: The Samaritan

This morning, I had the opportunity to participate in a meditation as part of an International Buddhist-Christian Conference taking place at Union this week. During the meditation, we were asked to sit with the parable of the Good Samaritan, which was spoken aloud by Roger Haight, and place ourselves into the story based on wherever we were at that moment. I found myself sitting with the robbers this morning. I could not help wondering where they were before the story, what had caused them to engage in behavior that ran counter to their potential for good. I wondered if they felt remorse for their actions, if they were driven by pain or desperation in that moment. Did they value the life they were destroying? Did they experience hardship that drove them to a state of separation from the joy of being? As the story continued on, my mind remained in part with the robbers as I listened to an act of compassion that came from an oppressed segment of society. In a system where pain was ignored and unaddressed by those in places of privilege and power, an individual who was also a likely victim of pain put someone else’s life before his own. Rather than remaining indifferent to another’s experience and allowing for the continuation of a cycle of violence and suffering, this person started a new cycle of care and love. This person started a new narrative that allowed the victim of violence to experience both the very worst and the very best of humanity. This person gave those around him a choice: to move forward in love of or in fear of our imperfect potential for good. As I contemplated the risk and beauty involved in the Samaritan’s actions, I could not help but wonder if the robbers had been given that choice. I could not help but wonder if they were given the opportunity to act with love for our imperfect potential or with fear. As the story finished, I held out hope for the robbers that they somehow learned of the actions of the Samaritan, that they were given the choice, possibly for the first time, to see our potential for good in a new light.

When I mentioned that my meditation centered on the robbers to a friend later that morning, I was asked if I had seen the latest about the events in Boston. When I said I had, it was clear that my meditation had been motivated by a sadness for the fear that permeated through all parts of the city, including the men who engaged in this horrifically violent act. But the sadness was also paired with a hope, a hope that was justified and validated by the beautiful humanity that has been present since and during these terrible events. That hope is the hope that we continue to create and face a choice. Do we love our imperfect potential for good, knowing that the only way to fulfill it is by engaging in dangerous acts of kindness despite (or even because of) the pain we ourselves experience? Or do we fear our imperfect potential for good, believing that it will never be fully achieved, and that our pain will only be healed when we inflict it on others? What choice do we make; what choice have we made? I believe we have the potential to make a choice to love, and I see it already being made by many who are willing to give of themselves to show kindness and compassion to all who are experiencing pain. They are choosing to break the cycle of violence, they are choosing to show the wholeness of humanity so that we are not left with only the brokenness. And they are choosing to give others the choice to do the same.

The parable of the Good Samaritan is framed in the context of understanding what it means to love one’s neighbor, and in particular, who constitutes one’s neighbor. The one who “showed mercy” is the one who is identified as the neighbor to the victim in the story. The Samaritan, the one who broke the cycle of violence and showed compassion despite being a victim of oppression himself, is the one whose example we are invited to follow. The Samaritan, the person who did not act out of fear but out of love for our imperfect potential, the person who gave others the choice to see both possibilities and engage one, is a model that we can follow when we consider how we relate to one another. The Samaritan was given a choice, and in his actions of love, gave another the same opportunity. We now have the chance to do the same. I choose love. And I know others will too.

Marriage v. Everyone Else

It is interesting watching my Facebook news feed the past few days to see the spectrum of reactions to the recent SCOTUS hearings on Prop 8 and DOMA. Ending the laws that make love between consenting adults illegal or illegitimate is an important and necessary step on the road to promoting human rights. Moreover, marriage equality is an issue that intersects with so many others, including health care, immigration, poverty, childcare, housing...just to name a few. Again, issues dealing with the denial of basic human rights. Some of the reactions I have seen to the intense energy around these hearings have been extraordinarily critical of the attention that they have been getting, operating under the premise that other (equally important) human rights denials are occurring. Prison privatization. Monsanto. HIV/AIDS quarantines. Drone warfare. Gun violence. People are being accused of jumping on the marriage equality bandwagon, and ignoring all of the other issues that need to be addressed if we are to build a world where all are respected and able to thrive.

Breathe, people. Just breathe.

We are all, in some way or another, oppressed by our current social structures. Whether the impact is physical, social, financial, or psychological, something prevents us from being our fullest and freest selves. That sounds terrifying and dark, but it doesn't have to be. In fact, it should be empowering; we're all in this broken system and most of us want to change it. Yes, let's make sure that the efforts to take apart one piece of the oppression puzzle don't end up replacing it with something new, or cement another piece even further so that others' humanity is further denied. Yes, let's recognize the complexity of each of these allegedly individual issues, so that we can properly point out its relationship to other manifestations of oppression. Taking this puzzle analogy to an uncomfortable stretch, when we remove one piece, we make it easier to remove another. Because these pieces are interlocking; they are intentionally designed to fit one another and keep each other in place. So rather than say that the focus on one issue, for example, marriage equality, is detracting from the energy needed on others, let's try something different. Let's use that focus to dive deeper into the issue at hand, see its many nuances and its interlocking nature. It sounds paradoxical, but it makes a lot of sense. The closer we look at something, the greater our vision becomes. Our awareness increases our intentionality, which in turn increases our effectiveness, which in turn empowers us to new levels. The energy surrounding the movement to end oppression should not be seen as being finite and divided among different issues, but rather, ever-expanding and conscious of their connections to each other and to the same root. Our energy grows when our "individual" movements do not vie for attention, but give it to one another. So Let's lift up each other and the ways in which we are working together to take apart this puzzle. Let's celebrate when our movement successfully removes a piece from its place. We're working for the same goal. Let's help each other get there.

The Freedom of Humility*

Most Unitarian Universalists are probably familiar with the seven principles of the tradition. I personally love it when we get to sing the children out on Sundays to the “Principles Song,” because it removes the complicated language and identifies the simple spirit behind each principle. Maybe lesser known are the six sources of our faith, which help us to understand more deeply the call behind each of our principles, and inspire us to engage the potential for diversity inherent in our tradition. Of these six sources, perhaps the most commonly celebrated in UU communities today is the humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit. With this source, our tradition lifts up the fact that we are enlightened beings, with a capacity to understand some of the most intricate complexities of our existence. We are able to engage in thoughtful dialogue over controversial issues, and critically respond to harmful ideologies that disregard what we as informed citizens know to be reasonable and empirically sound. With this source, we not only celebrate the fact that we can think, but we also recognize this ability as a responsibility. It comes as no surprise that our Unitarian predecessors thoroughly engaged the power of reason and intellect, knowing that our ability to understand our experience has the power to help us appreciate it even more. They believed that our capacity for reason helps us to critically examine the accepted norms of society, and their tradition of challenging practices that violated human rights and dignity is one that we continue today. That’s pretty awesome.

Yet, with all of the gifts and potential that arise out of our ability to use reason, it does have its limits. Intellectualism carries risks, in particular, the risk of getting stuck in our own minds. When we place so much importance on the power of the mind and our capacity for intellectual discourse, we risk forgetting the limitations inherent in our thinking. When we focus so much of our energy on being critical consumers, on relying on what we [can] know, we risk assuming that we are capable of understanding and explaining everything. In effect, we brainwash ourselves with our own rational thinking. The reality of our “freedom of the mind” is that it comes with a responsibility to recognize its conditionality. Our minds are free, but they are bound to a certain context. Thus, when we exercise our gift of reason, we are better served in doing so humbly and responsibly, by first acknowledging that our thinking is in fact limited to our context.

But there is a happy twist. By recognizing the limits to our reason, we open ourselves up to new forms of freedom, forms that are based in trust. We become free in our ability to hear challenges and learn from another’s point of view. We become free in our ability to detect and eliminate the dominant and oppressive paradigms that may permeate the foundation of our thinking. We become free by sitting with the contradictions that our mind tries so hard to resolve, perhaps even welcoming them as evidence of something greater than us that we may not know. We are freed of the desire to explain everything so that it fits our view of the world. This idea may be objectionable for some – when I first came across it in the fall, I dismissed it as a “lazy theology.” But if we think about it, resisting the urge to neatly rationalize everything is actually harder than we might realize. It is a significant intellectual challenge to stay in the messiness of contradiction, and to be willing to say that we cannot know all that we need to explain our experience. A lazy mind cannot accomplish that task. But a mind that is engaged in a responsible search for truth and meaning can – a mind that is humble can be freed by recognizing its limitations.

*Due to word count constraints, this post is limited in its exploration of the potential for humility to be exploited or taken to an unquestioning extreme.

"My Body Is Not Your Battleground"

My Body Is Not Your Battleground
By Mohja Kahf

My body is not your battleground
My breasts are neither wells nor mountians,
neither Badr nor Uhud
My breasts do not want to lead revolutions
nor to become prisoners of war
My breasts seek amnesty; release them
so I can glory in their milktipped fullness,
so I can offer them to my sweet love
without your flags and banners on them

My body is not your battleground
My hair is neither sacred nor cheap,
neither the cause of your disarray
nor the path to your liberation
My hair will not bring progress and clean water
if it flies unbraided in the breeze
It will not save us from our attackers
if it is wrapped and shielded from the sun
Untangle your hands from my hair
so I can comb and delight in it,
so I can honor and annoint it,
so I can spill it over the chest of my sweet love

My body is not your battleground
My private garden is not your tillage
My thighs are not highway lanes to your Golden City
My belly is not the store of your bushels of wheat
My womb is not the cradle of your soldiers,
not the ship of your journey to the homeland
Leave me to discover the lakes
that glisten in my green forests
and to understand the power of their waters
Leave me to fill or not fill my chalice
with the wine or honey of my sweet love
Is it your skin that will tear when the head of the new world emerges?

My body is not your battleground
How dare you put your hand
where I have not given permission
Has God, then, given you permission
to put your hand there?
My body is not your battle ground
Withdraw from the eastern fronts and the western
Withdraw these armaments and this siege
so that I may prepare the earth
for the new age of lilac and clover,
so that I may celebrate this spring
the pageant of beauty with my sweet love.

Becoming We

There is a word that all of us use in our daily lives that is perhaps among the most complex and dangerous words in our language: “I”. Even though it is the shortest possible length a word can be, I is at the root of the questions and philosophies that shape our reality. I is a powerful idea that motivates much of what we do both as individuals and communities. I helps us understand our unique gifts and dreams, and lets us celebrate the differences that make our world a miracle of diversity. I allows us to reflect on our inherent worth and dignity when others would attempt to deny our rights and our humanity. I’s power comes from its ability to serve as a method of separation that distinguishes us from one another…and that is where I becomes a dangerous tool in human hands.

In allowing for separation, I unfortunately brings forth the possibility of judgment and fear. I’s creation of our individual identities leads us to dread anything that we see as threatening what it is that “makes me me.” When confronted with the challenge of difference and change, the I behind our identity can push us to minimize or outright reject the value of another. I encourages us to believe that our individual identity must be protected, and that its value will be reduced if we acknowledge that others’ identities are equally important to our existence. I is the source of pride that prevents connection and dialogue. I is behind the horrors of racism, sexism, and classism. I motivates religious bigotry and cultural animosity. I cultivates political division and nationalism. I leads to both physical and spiritual violence. I creates “us and them”.

But I works in positive ways too. Each of us has our own unique body, thoughts, experiences, histories, connections, behaviors, etc. all culminating into what we see as our unique identity. We are all distinctive expressions and interactions of creation, and our difference is a source of celebration and awe. I embraces the value of every being independent of others’ treatment. I encourages us to come together by reminding us of what we are not as individuals, and what we can be when joined with others. It is these functions that demonstrate how I can actually be a reflection of “We”. We is a way of understanding that our identity is not really limited to our individual experience. We takes away the perceived threat to our individual identity because it reminds us that it does not really exist. We embraces the contributions of all into a collective identity, whose value is only enhanced by acknowledging that “me” cannot be without “you”. We cultivates real respect and appreciation for diversity because it no longer bases difference in comparison, but rather in inclusion. We is our interconnected self. We is the end of “us and them”. We is the root of love in its truest form – universal and without boundaries. We is what must flow through I if we are to use it responsibly. We is what I must become.

What We Love

“What do Unitarian Universalists believe?” I imagine many UUs have been asked this question at some point in their lives. And I’m sure I’m not the only one that has experienced an internal flutter of panic or mental scramble in searching for the best four-sentence description that almost always works in the words “the inherent worth and dignity of every person.” A couple of years ago, I had the opportunity to meet Rev. Peter Morales while attending a conference in Boston, and he gave those of us who were there that weekend a catchy response to that dread-inducing question. His memorable answer? “What we love is more important than what we believe.”

But wait, you might say, doesn’t that lead to the inevitable follow-up question of “Ok, well what do you love?” Absolutely. But I find that question to be more exciting (and informative) to answer than the original one. As Unitarian Universalists, we love whatever is in need of love. Such a response may seem overly simplified or trite at first, but its full complexity is realized when we look at what we mean by “love.” To borrow from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., love in our tradition is not limited to “a sentimental or affectionate sense.” Love is a powerful force that goes beyond acceptance or admiration, to a proactive effort to cultivate necessary understanding and change. Love is the strength to stay in relationship with people whose words or deeds are laced with ignorance, hatred, or pain, because doing so is the only way to reignite their spark of inherent good. Love is not simply the willingness to say yes to the oppressed; it is the ability to say yes to the oppressor...by saying no.* Despite initial impressions, that is not an impossible contradiction. When we say “no” we are not rejecting the person. We are rejecting the actions or words that have caused pain and humiliation; we are rejecting the violation of their goodness that prevents them from understanding their connection to others. Our “no” is a “yes” because it acknowledges the capacity, and necessity, for change. Our “no” is a “yes” because it demonstrates our refusal to settle for anything less than unity, and our commitment to ignite their spark of good. So it stands that when we love whatever is need of love, we endeavor to do what must be done to save our world from the destructive and divisive attitudes that breed fear, discrimination, inequality, and violence.

It is this love that drives our commitment to social justice, not only by coming to the aid of those who are most aggrieved by injustice, but by challenging those who are responsible for creating it. In the words of Rev. Richard Gilbert, we “live under a prophetic imperative to act in love for justice,” and “need to be equally skilled in comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable.” Our love of whatever is in need of love calls us to engage in social action that moves beyond working within the current structures and pushes to create systemic change. It may be a difficult and seemingly endless task to advocate for institutional transformation, but that is precisely why such work is where our love is needed the most. Social action shifts us away from treating the effects of injustice and towards removing its root causes. It is an effort to challenge the oppressive systems that have preserved freedom for the few by denying the rights of the many. It is a focus on policy reforms and attitudinal change that will bring an end to the inexcusable deprivation in our culture of abundance. It is a movement to intentionally transform our social mindset and political practices to bring an end to institutionalized “otherizing” and honor the rights of all. That is where the strength to stay in relationship, the “yes” behind our “no” will have the greatest impact. Social action is the recognition of our power to bring genuine transformation at a universal level, to love what needs love the most.

*No (intended) relation to the “yes and no” of God in Karl Barth’s theological reflections.

Ranwa Restoration Plan 2012

New Year's Resolutions are always an interesting task to undertake. I often ask myself questions like "How can I make this year a good one? What can I do to be happier, make things different for the next 365 days?" Sadly, there is often a negative judgment that comes with these questions, an evaluation of what I could have done better. My past decisions are seen as mistakes if they did not have the "ideal" outcome, and I try to push myself to avoid repeating these supposed errors.

This year, I am going to be joining the millions who will be pushing the annual "reset button" as we start a new calendar (preferably one with pictures of kittens). However, this time I'm going to be doing things a bit differently. Inspired by my church's "Ends and Means" statements, I have devised a way of framing my personal goals that does not judge my past, but appreciates the present. My "resolutions" for this year look to past decisions not as mistakes to be avoided or rectified, but as what they are: past decisions. What is available to me in the present and future is not an opportunity to fix what I have done "wrong," but to celebrate what gifts I have here and now. Thus, the Ranwa Resolution Plan 2012 is not a set of improvements to be made, but an honest and realistic expression of who I am, what I believe, and what I can achieve. Divided into three segments, my "RRP" appreciates different elements of my self, my family, and my world. Connected to each of these elements are a couple of sentences, carefully composed to serve as behavioral, intellectual, and spiritual guides. Although not included below, each of these elements and their guides allows for the development of SMART goals, which provide me with concrete ways of appreciating my present gifts, and sharing them with the world.

So why have I decided to share my RRP with you? For support. I believe in what I have written, but sometimes I can be forgetful or overly-critical. On the days when I seem to have lost sight of the bigger picture, and there will likely be more than a few, a reminder to look back at what I have written here will help me return to an appreciative state. Eventually, these guides will cease to be goals and will instead be natural instincts, but this can only be achieved through time and consistent practice. And I am grateful for your ability and willingness to support me as I learn to live an appreciative and celebratory life.

MY SELF	“The root of compassion is compassion for oneself.” As part of our interdependent web of existence, I have a responsibility to practice self-care. If I do not show myself the love and respect that I deserve, I will not be able to show love and respect to others. My Physical Self I have only one body, and I will treat it with the respect it deserves. My body is a miracle, but it is also vulnerable and dependent on my ability to take care of its condition. My body is the shelter for my mind and spirit. If this shelter is not stable, my mind and spirit cannot be protected. My Emotional Self I am a compassionate being with an incredible capacity for love. I have the power to limit my suffering and maximize my joy. When I begin to feel anger or sadness, I should not ignore it, but I should not let it control me. I can look for the root of my suffering, so that I can replace it with a seed of joy. My Mental Self I am brilliant, yet I know nothing. My brain is capable of learning so many things, and it is always hungry for knowledge. I have the opportunity to keep my mind alive by feeding it with inspiration from sources all around and within me. By appreciating the wisdom of others I will begin to understand and realize the power of my own mind. My Spiritual Self Life is a miracle filled with mystery, beauty, and celebration. I will take the time to appreciate the gifts that I have been given and the people whose presence in my life is a continuous blessing. I will connect with the world through mindful worship and reflection, and strive to practice love and compassion in all that I do, say, and think.
MY FAMILY	My family is not defined by blood or proximity. My family is defined by love – given, received, and forever available to all. Love my Partner Relationships are a celebration of love and an exercise in commitment. My partner is a beautiful person, with incredible gifts, among which are his brilliant mind, forgiving heart, and loving spirit. Our relationship will continue to blossom if I practice and encourage open communication, genuine appreciation, and unabashed humor. Establish a Healthy Parental Relationship Differences in opinion with my parents are an inevitable part of my self-actualization. Our love for each other will continue to exist regardless of the paths we choose, and is not defined by how often we communicate. Part of building a healthy relationship is recognizing what is important to each of us, and not forcing change or acceptance. Love my Sister My sister is a wise, strong, and beautiful woman whose sense of humor is unmatched. She is a source of unwavering support and inspiration. She deserves to be celebrated and loved throughout her lifetime, and supported when challenges arise. Love my Friends Every single person in this world has something special to share. There are those whom I have met on my journey who continue to bless me with gifts of inspiration, joy, love, and wisdom. Their presence in my life is a miracle to be recognized and celebrated, both privately and in our interactions with one another. Reaching Out to Extended Family I can only be loved for who I am if I actually show my true self to those around me. Direct and open communication is the first step to building a new relationship with those whom I want to share in my life’s journey. Fear of rejection is natural, but rejection is only one possibility. The only way to guarantee it is to avoid attempts to communicate.
MY WORLD	We are all part of a single shared existence. When others experience suffering, I too suffer. When others experience joy, I too am joyful. As beings designed to connect with each other and our world, we have the power to limit our collective suffering and maximize our collective joy. Practice my Faith I am a Unitarian Universalist. At the core of my faith is a belief that love is the most powerful force of all. By appreciating the power of love and showing it to all, I can authentically understand my faith and put it into responsible action. Serve my Community Everybody deserves to be loved. One of the simplest ways to show love is to respect the worth and dignity of those around me. Compassionate service is not motivated by pity or guilt, but by knowing that true happiness comes from others’ joy. Responsible service comes from understanding both my abilities and limitations, so that I can participate in ways that help rather than harm. Respect my Planet We have only one home, which we must responsibly share if we are to keep it healthy in the present and future. Our home is well-built, but can easily be destroyed if we abuse its gifts. We must show love for the Earth and reverence for our interdependent existence with all beings and elements. In doing so, we will not only preserve our home in the present, but make it stronger in the future.