But it's not about race? Actually, it was, before, after, during ... and it still is~

Someone asked what to say to a friend who believes the Zimmerman verdict wasn't about race: 

I'd start with 'I might have that reaction 15 years ago but have come to learn how pervasive racism is in our iives. And I'm still learning. There are times when I can agree to disagree but in this case, lives are at stake so I find myself willing to risk relationships in order to open more heads and hearts to seeing what our historically marginalized communities have known all along. Our system favors people who look like me. Period. The racism in this case preceded the events of that evening. The racism present in the neighborhood automatically put at risk people who looked like Trayvon Martin. The racism present in the political powers automatically favored anyone with a firearm pointed at a person of color. The racism present in the entire dominant social fabric automatically ramped up the expectations of consequences, feelings of entitlement & bravado in George Zimmerman. The racism present in the systems of power, including the justice system automatically moved to dismiss the facts of the case, leading to the 6 week delay in an arrest forced by widespread criticism and protest. The racism present in the judicial system led to the make-up of the jury. The racism present in your socialization, and many others, including mine for some years, leads us to this conversation today. And we are wrong if we allow that socialization to rule our heads and hearts. 

This was about racism. Period. And so, dear friend ---- I invite you to just spend a day, give that much to the Martin family --- spend just today imagining that this was about race and that an innocent young boy died at the hands of a racist system. And then let's talk again ~ I love you but I want to live in a world in which every child is loved and protected by all of us - and this isn't it. Multitudes of parents of children of color are sitting down tonight and reminding them how they are not safe in this world. Sadly, not for the first time. We need to be talking to our children too and telling them that they can either pretend this isn't about race or get busy changing it. Here's an important article you might start with 
.
http://www.timwise.org/2013/07/no-innocence-left-to-kill-racism-injustice-and-explaining-america-to-my-daughter/

Letter to UU Congregation of Marblehead

Dear ones,

Last night was a tragic night in the ongoing struggle for racial justice in our beloved country.  The acquittal of George Zimmerman, in the shooting death of Trayvon Martin, left many beyond articulation but clear in emotions of outrage, despair & sadness.  For many in the community of color, fear.  For many in the dominant culture, shame.  Since last night, texts, facebook messages, tweets and emails have poured in, each providing one more piece of trying to put words to this point of time in our journey.  Some focus on the jury - how could it be allowed?  A jury that was nearly all-white? Others on the racism inherent in the entire incident, recalling that it took a nationwide protest to get the shooter arrested at all?  Others still, mostly all of color, register their lack of surprise, noting on the arc of their own lived experience this stands as simply one more piece of being targeted, harmed and harmed again by an unjust system.  And yet.  And yet, those are also the voices of hope that call us all to the work of understanding racism as something so embedded in our dominant culture it can lead to none other than fear-based laws like 'stand-your-ground,' profiling people who are 'other' and a justice system that benefits financially from the continued incarceration of people of color and at the same time provides a different level of justice for the same population.  From an accurate analysis of our system, this is exactly the verdict we should expect.  And yet.  And yet, those among us who on this night will worry until their young are back home, worry as they drive their cars through upscale neighborhoods and see flashing blue lights approaching, note with dismay the extra attention inside of the retail store, wonder --- what of this do I share with my child tonight? ............................ they lead us with strength of purpose and hope, to say, the work continues.  For those of you who are most impacted by this event because you are a member of the community of color, or other at-risk identity group, I offer my prayers and sorrow that our world is not yet the world we profess to seek as a people of conscience and faith.  I pledge to you that my head, heart and hands will not waiver in the journey. For those of you, who like me, live within the privilege of the dominant Euro-American white culture, I applaud the efforts of those who are already well on the journey of understanding how 'white privilege' operates in our daily lives and societal systems  and invite you in to an intentional expansion of our efforts to educate ourselves, each other toward the end of working in effective, increasingly powerful and dear creation, I pray, transformational work.  

And with gratitude to a dear friend from Atlanta, I offer the reminder that anger toward the shooter, the lawyers and/or the jury, feed the less-best-selves within us and our task is so grand, we need our whole spirits engaged on the promise of a better tomorrow.  Let our prayer of today be a re-commitment to a future in which we share equally the justice so many of us take for granted. 

Yours on the journey ~

Rev. Wendy von Zirpolo

Inherent Worth & Dignity ~ Even When the Majority Cries No

The Reading

Please Call Me By My True Names

by Thich Nhat Hanh

Don't say that I will depart tomorrow --
even today I am still arriving.

Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.

The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay
his "debt of blood" to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.

My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart
can be left open,
the door of compassion.

The Sermon

When Tom Fowler cashed in on his winning bid of a sermon on any topic, we hadn’t yet heard the words ‘marathon bomber.’  Tom’s request was to speak to how Unitarian Universalists reconcile our commitment to honoring the inherent worth and dignity in every human being with people who commit such hideous acts.  He gave as an example the extremist Islam jihadists and others responsible for acts of violence and ways of being that oppress others.

The answers I knew I would share have not changed with the recent turn of events.

The answers reside on a spectrum. Here at one end, the belief that all  people, regardless of belief systems, race, ethnicity, gender identity, affectional or sexual orientation, economic class, level of education, age, physical or mental abilities are worthy and welcome here in our community.  Here at the other end of the spectrum, the belief that all people, regardless of behavior are worthy at all.  Here resides the sea pirate, the religious extremist of Tom’s question the non-religious owner of violence, the oppressor extraordinaire. And all this distance in between. 

And all of us. In between.

I present to you my belief that at this end, we do pretty well, at least in thought if not always in action.  We as a community have placed a theological stake in the ground publicly that here we are clear in our belief that all people have inherent worth and dignity.  We write it in our hymnal, we proudly display it on banners, we hold posters in marches. We post it, tweet it and wear it. We seek to be in solidarity, at times righteous solidarity with all.  We take pride in our leadership in this area and, importantly, we can often be found confronting our own learning in this area that we may be as true to our claims as possible.

As we travel the spectrum, our lived commitment to that ideal is as varied as our beliefs in the divine. Like all humans we struggle with openness to ‘other’ and at times fall short, individually and institutionally. I know I do.

But for the most part, much of this distance, is active ground upon which we help each other along the journey, calling out to learn more, stretch more, reach more.  It’s almost as if the ground is shifting under our feet but we’re okay with it because we know it’s shifting and at various times we’re the ones with the rakes and shovels.  Up to a point.

For me, that point used to be the sea pirate.

Almost a decade ago, when I faced the ministerial credentialing body for entry into UU ministry, one of their questions was about the sea pirate.  I had written about him in one of the many required reflections.  I said “I still struggle with the sea pirate. But I’ve reached a place where I know I am called to see him as part of my world.”

·        Buddhism had brought me to a place where I knew in head and heart that to claim membership of the family human was to accept that our world is full of beauty and ugliness, moments of compassion beyond words and hideous acts of hatred, saints and sea pirates.  

·        Unitarian Universalism had brought me up to know in my head that each person was gifted by creation with inherent worth and dignity. 

·        As a child, youth and young adult human nature and the privilege of a mostly protected life had allowed and encouraged me to hide from dealing with the pirate at all.

·        The pathway deeper into my faith required I no longer hide.

In the  years prior to and following that meeting I sought  conversation and counsel with my mentors in life asking them the same question Tom asked of me.  One was a beloved mentor from BUSTH who had traveled to Palestine to meet with Yasar Arafat just prior to what became known as the Passover bombings. With tears in my eyes I asked him “as a religious leader, how do you make sense of evil in our world? And beyond that  what do you do, as a man of faith and as a leader?” In his response he challenged me to step into the experience and lve the answers. He then went on to say perhaps it was time to call up some of his peers (Jesse Jackson among them), get back on the plane, link arms and walk through Jerusalem knowing some of them might not return. His picture, with Arafat sits on my desk. 

I spoke with another mentor, a Unitarian Universalist minister, after the arrest of a paedophile who was on staff at a YMCA where I coached swim.  I asked her  ‘How do you minister to those who have committed violence against another human being, especially a child?”  She told me that in each case, she visualizes a heart wrapped around the person and it allows her to remain in a place of love and compassion.

These just two of my many teachers preparing me for the moment when I could, should and would meet the pirate. Each of whom knew I would have to find my own way. Each holding me to the call to do so.  Each knowing that this is the ONLY pathway to our better tomorrow and we all need to each other along the way.

And then it happened.  My sea pirate arrived here in our sacred home. In 2008 a man who had been convicted of some hideous crimes moved here to Marblehead. The neighbors were frightened and in their fear behaved in some worrisome ways. The person who had rented to this man was trying their best to help him relocate elsewhere. The situation was volatile. The man had been here on a non-Sunday but spoken of attending Sunday service. Should that happen, plans were in place to address safety concerns, particularly a way to prevent any engagement with our young people. He would be welcomed, but accompanied and following the service, invited into a covenant that would openly identify safety concerns and require agreement about participation. Further, we were in conversation about communications with our members and friends, particularly parents.

Remember the spectrum?  I would place us well up at this end, communally, as we navigated what it would mean to allow and, further welcome this person into our community.

We never needed to activate those plans. Before Sunday arrived, he showed up here one afternoon, an open bottle of vodka in a brown paper bag in hand, alcohol on his breath, tears in his eyes, an angry edge to his voice.  He was in crisis. Standing in this hallway, he shared publicly that he had been on the wagon for some years but because of the situation, the leaflets in the neighborhood, the newspaper reports, the hatred expressed directly at him, he had succumbed.   Without a whole lot of thought, I welcomed him into my office to talk. (I’ve already had the lectures about the wisdom or lack of wisdom in doing so.  One person who knows situations like this well gave me a caring and stern tour of my office pointing out each potential weapon along the way.  I don’t think she made it all the way to the deer antlers because she caught my attention with the fire poker on the hearth and the scissors on the desk.)

There we were.  I had a simple goal-that this man not leave to go home to a volatile situation with the alcohol. I believed that the opportunity existed for this one day could have a better outcome than seemed written on the wall, should the liquor leave with him. I won’t share the details of our conversation. Just as I won’t disclose any others held in the confidence of that office and this vocation.  I will only share that when he left, it was without the bottle.  And I have come to appreciate his willingness to be in that conversation with me – and to call him teacher

In the context of today’s message, however, what I want to share is the ‘thing’ that allowed me to be in the conversation at all.  My teachers were correct.  I would find my own way. Wise or not, this conversation was made possible by one belief.  The belief that we are all gifted with a preciousness at our birth.  And that we don’t become sea pirates by accident.  Something happens to us at the hands, heads and damaged hearts of others who at some point had something happen to them at the hands, heads and damaged hearts of others who at some point had something happen to them ………..but in the beginning each of us is so very precious.  So, when I looked at this man, with tears in his eyes, my phone in one hand ready to speed dial 911, and nearly doing so twice, I saw a precious child too.  A precious child failed somehow by us.  And that made all the difference.

What for me was most remarkable about that moment, in terms of my own journey, is how unremarkable it felt and yet how it altered me permanently.  It was one of those ‘once arrived, forever there’ moments in time.  In the same way that once you begin to understand white privilege and racist systems in our country, you see it everywhere.  Or how binary our society is when it comes to gender. Once I was able to see this man, who had committed hideous acts, as fully human and a child we had failed, I could be in relationship with him as fully human rather than demonic other, evil doer, enemy to the mother in me.

My heart having been cracked open once, it seems to have remained so in a way I could not have predicted.  While watching some piece of the coverage of the marathon bombings, my mind went to this question.  Has Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the young man arrested for the marathon blasts, been provided access to a chaplain? And what followed was the knowledge that were I there, it could be me and that would be fine.

That is my personal testimony, that to see the preciousness each of us received as a child and to know that our world has somehow failed the person who lands in evil acts – or the people who land in evil acts, is how I reconcile the call to see the inherent worth and dignity of every human being.  But to your fine question, Tom Fowler, I add another. Why care at all? It’s a natural question for we of the always questioning faith.

One of my favorite lines in the Bible comes from Micah chapter 6, verse 8. “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  Most of you know I’m not a theist but I am a believer.  A believer in making meaning of our lives, finding the timeless messages in the world’s sacred texts and using them to find and fuel our power -  for good.  This line in Micah has always spoken to me because of its simplicity – be kind, travel humbly, do justice (or in some translations love mercy). And I love it because I see it as that piece of divine messaging written upon our souls.  That this is our great collective calling, invoked and inspired by many names and none at all.  That we have the obligation and power to make good with each moment of our lives.  It is a stunning power and this spectrum is the path upon which we are called to use it.  We have the power to add kindness, compassion and a wish to understand another human being into the atmosphere each time we relate to another OR we can offer our bodies tight with anger, hatred, and a coldness that signals we are shut down to the possibility that the person before us has worth and dignity.  And I’m not just talking about the sea pirate –the doer of horrific deeds.  No, I’m talking the whole spectrum here.  Strangers and those closest to us.  Our partners, neighbors, children, fellow congregants, friends --- ourselves.

Our faith, Tom Fowler and all who will hear, calls us to understand that we are all of the people, from saint to sea pirate, and that we the people have the collective power to make things better.  But it can only be in relationship with one another. 

May we embrace our power to make it so.

"In the grace of the world ..." - Wendell Berry

I rest in

When despair grows in me

and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting for their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

~ by Wendell Berry

  the grace

of the world

Someone asked today "How do we make sense of violence in the world and how do we understand what makes a person cause such harm?"  My head had many words to share, though not any answers.  My body, however, knows just what to do and seems to deliver me without thought to finding beauty, if even only for a moment.  Living near a beautiful beach is indeed a privilege and often I escape for a walk letting my body get its fill of fresh air in my lungs, sunshine or misty rain on my face and beauty all around.  None of it changes the world, but it changes me in ways that make me strong once more to face the questions that defy answers and strong once more to face a world desperate for more bodies, minds and souls rooted in beauty and balance.  May all beings have access to rest in the grace of the world and knowing so many do not, may those of us who do have access, drink deeply and remember not to rest too long and then get busy.

, and am free.

These times are strange for everyone, I think, but in different ways.

       For many the events of last week seem unreal and the reverberations from the blasts continue, catching us in ways we could not have imagined.  Hearing the words “going out for a run” from a daughter, a friend asking if you want to “head into town for some shopping,” or lacing up your own sneakers, heading out for a walk or a run along the beach.  I had one of those moments today as I sat outside of the Haverhill High School pool finishing my coffee before heading in to teach swim.  It’s a parking lot I know so well.  For several years I pulled in there with my car full of my own children all ready to compete in swim meets, the car full of donations for the bake sale and the building about to be swarming with swimmers aged 6 to 18, coaches, officials, volunteers and families and friends eager to cheer them on.  Now, I arrive 2 weekdays to teach swim and some Saturdays to coach, and occasionally to walk the track.  At times the parking lot is full, especially in good weather as athletes and families head over to the adjacent track and fields with lacrosse sticks, soccer balls or just eager smiles.  This morning as I sipped my coffee I thought “wow – what if it happened here?” My mind stopped imagining the scene as fast as I could.  My own imaginings making me shudder.  Strange start to an ordinary day.

     These times are strange for everyone, I think, but in different ways.  Strange for those of us for whom violence is such an anomaly – at least in terms of what we see and experience first-hand each day.  Strange too for those who watch on and say “Do you finally get it?  This IS what life is like for us, all the time?” And those who say “Why all the attention and resources on this slice of violence?  Is it the color of the faces of most of those injured? It cannot be that it’s because it’s in Boston, because our children were lost here too. They weren’t running a marathon though.  They were walking home from school.”

     And strange as well for those who wonder “Did we fail this young man somehow?” This is the question that some will keep inside for fear of seeming unsympathetic to the victims or worse, traitors.  And it is a question that lived with me this weekend as I felt my heart fill with hope watching our youth sharing themselves with brand new faces at the Springfield UU Congregation, working together with those youth to improve a stretch of waterfront, leaning in to conversations with people fishing for dinner along the river, competing with heart and soul in a sing-off around a campfire and offering their reflections to a weekend of bonding and service.  On my late-night drive back to a city just beginning to express a sigh of relief I wondered “Where were we with this young man? The young man who shot up a school room in Connecticut? And others? “  Maybe we were with him and it just didn’t matter.  Or, maybe not.  We can’t know all the answers.  But I pray we don’t let vengeance or fear of not seeming ‘caring’ or ‘patriotic’ enough get in the way of asking the questions and seeking answers that may well lead to a safer and more just tomorrow ~

Cannot bring back lives but can learn to tweet ~

A longer post later but right now I'd like to share a call to action for those using Twitter and a nudge to those who aren't yet using it but would if suddenly a reason compelled them to try (just go to twitter.com and follow directions to establish an account).https://twitter.com/

HuffingtonPost was good enough to post a list of all of the Twitter Handles (account names that you can write to) of the US Senators who voted against the background check gun control measure.  If, like me, you are any of the following: displeased, outraged, disappointed, beyond words, angry, sad, frightened, ticked off by fear and/or greed based voting, etc... you might wish to directly tweet each of the following addresses and share your reaction:

@SenAlexander,@KellyAyotte,@SenJohnBarrasso,@MaxBaucus,@SenatorBegich,@RoyBlunt, @JohnBoozeman,@SenatorBur,@SaxbyChambliss,@SenDanCoats,@TomCoburn,
@SenThadCochran,@SenBobCorker,@JohnCornyn,@MikeCrapo,@SenTedCruz,
@SenatorEnzi,@SenatorFischer,@JeffFlake,@GrahamBlog,@ChuckGrassley,
@SenOrrinHatch,@SenatorHeitkamp,@SenDeanHeller,@SenJohnHoeven,@jiminhofe,
@SenatorIsakson,@Mike_Johanns,@SenRonJohnson,@SenMikeLee,@McConnellPress,@JerryMoran,@lisamurkowski,@SenRandPaul,@robportman,@SenMarkPryor,
@SenatorRisch,@SenPatRoberts,@marcorubio@SenatorTimScott,@SenatorSessions,
@SenShelbyPress,@SenJohnThune,@DavidVitter,@SenatorWicker

We cannot bring back any of the lives lost to gun violence in our country but we can impact tomorrow and the next day and the next ~ 

Unitarian Universalist Congregation Offers Service of Sadness, Solace and Solidarity

     I have never been more grateful for the power of social media. As the tragic events of Monday unfolded, we needed a way to determine who might have been injured by the marathon bombings.  We always have people participating. One member is always at the finish line outside of Marathon Sports, others either participate or spectate and many work in Boston. It's such a close and caring community, I knew we needed a way to connect and keep each other informed. THANK YOU facebook, mass emailing and texting!  Within minutes notices of safety were shared and sighs of relief spread throughout the congregation.  

     Like everyone else, we're still dealing with the grief, the shock and the urge to make meaning in a time when that isn't likely possible.  What we can do is come together and make a space for people to express their grief and shock, light candles of sadness and hope be with one another as we try to move forward.  

     None of us have answers to the 'why' this happens or the 'how' we can protect ourselves but we know how to make space to companion one another.  Now is the time to do just that, and then more forward asking 'when' will we take violence in all of its many forms seriously.  Now is the time to live the answer and we can only do that in solidarity with all those impacted by acts of violence.

**The UU Congregation of Marblehead has postponed plans to celebrate Earth Day and instead will hold a service of holding sadness, sharing solace & expressing solidarity.  All are welcome.  Children will be invited to participate in an activity outside of the worship space following a story for all ages.  Consider joining us. The service will be Sunday at 10:30 am and child care is provided.