Black out my forehead.
Place the symbol that implicates me
where everyone can see.
Make it visible. Make it tangible.
Make the G-d of the Cross
the cranium consideration of my entire life.
I am guilty.
We are guilty.
No rituals of pardon. No premature forgiveness.
Let this religion force upon the body
the truth of worldly death
because of Gaza and Grant and Iraq and dirty rivers.
Remind me by the imposition
that I am not the Savior but the one needing to be saved
because my funds and fuck-around attitudes
keep modern Calvary's realistic and resounding.
Because generations of slightly off-center womyn
cry out from their graves to me: get right, Emily,
lest ye die in Jerusalem with your back to the Wall.
Because I have the Law and keep stroking
that calf while calling out for redemption.
Place those intersectional lines
where all these new age, yoga posing white people say the
"third eye" is located and make it big
because I want to die, here and now, to myself,
to this country/empire that preaches liberation while enslaving
the psychological and physical fields of humanity.
Let the wood of the tree
and the utilitarian tool-making destructive capacity looming
large on this planet, ever ready to spring up in my soul,
let it sit dead-center, where I cannot hide from it,
so that when You are ready, I may rise with You.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
All of Us Must Have Been Sleeping
When it happened, some of us were planting in the garden or
spreading manure and digging the pungent soil into beds. Some
of us were looking into the eyes of the beloved, or into reflections
of self we mistook for the beloved. Some of us were finding it
hard to breathe. Some of us were trying to keep the house clean,
making plans or canceling them. When it happened some of us
left the television sets and the news of bombs hammering against
the night and sat down in chairs and tried to explain to ourselves
what it was about. Some of us couldn't bear to come out at all,
but stood alone in the spring evening and stroked softly, softly
our fear. All of us must have been asleep to have let so many lies
slip by like the hundreds of days between now and then, slip by
like this silence we have not yet learned to break.
*On the anniversary of the bombing on Baghdad, March 18, 2004
Terry Ehret
spreading manure and digging the pungent soil into beds. Some
of us were looking into the eyes of the beloved, or into reflections
of self we mistook for the beloved. Some of us were finding it
hard to breathe. Some of us were trying to keep the house clean,
making plans or canceling them. When it happened some of us
left the television sets and the news of bombs hammering against
the night and sat down in chairs and tried to explain to ourselves
what it was about. Some of us couldn't bear to come out at all,
but stood alone in the spring evening and stroked softly, softly
our fear. All of us must have been asleep to have let so many lies
slip by like the hundreds of days between now and then, slip by
like this silence we have not yet learned to break.
*On the anniversary of the bombing on Baghdad, March 18, 2004
Terry Ehret
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Challenging Cupid
Ever since Saunia Powell commented something provocative on my Facebook site, I've been thinking about love. Not so strange, you say, on such a day as this. This being of course Valentines Day. I can get really self-righteous about American holidays. It's all the routine, liberal ranting right: boo hiss and bah humbug to the commodification, materializing and watering-down of love. It's all so sentimental and counter revolutionary. One can take up similar arguments on Thanksgiving and Christmas, especially if you've studied history even a smidgen. But back to love.
Who knows: maybe it's true. Maybe we do need one day for making a date, buying flowers and chocolate, dressing up and exchanging cards; maybe we do need an excuse to have extra-lovey-dovey sex or hard core humping (depending on your flavor). I certainly can't complain about an excuse to do arts and crafts with an emphasis on the color red. I'm making James a multi-dimensional, interactive heart with supplies I got from Michael's while listening to Portishead. Not too bad. Certainly the holiday brings a gratitude focus for those of us coupled with super-natural sweethearts like mine. So yes, in my case the romantic unit deserves a ritual and why not use this occasion to flare up the passion already in motion?
And...
One of the things that strikes me each year on this day is how much I love, how many I love and how creepy it feels to express love to anyone but my partner. Like, if you step outside the romantic love relation you're doing the holiday an injustice. So far the most loving thing I've experienced today was a phone conversation with Wade wherein he quoted from Judith Butler's "Precarious Life." Love of friendship. Love of kick-ass political and social commentary. Where are the holidays for those? Later I was at the gym, experiencing a rush of endorphins on the Elliptical and the prayer I'm supposed to deliver at Church tomorrow for Bea Morris came to me word for word. This isn't the first time I've experienced revelation at 24 Hour Fitness. Love of the bodies' response to movement. Love of being inspired. How can I send those things a bouquet of flowers and confess my undying devotion? Love of connecting with a Veteran/patient. Love of seeing my government embody principles of righteousness and responsibility for the first time in 8 years. The least I could do is compile a CD of love songs for these cats. Do you get my point? Of course you do...
It's not irrelevant to this conversation that in the English language we only have one word for "love" and other languages have several. Sometimes I wonder if we broadened our language and conceptions about this thing (that in all honesty defies words and cognition) if we'd find something new and life-giving. Or maybe, if in the pursuit of developing new words and thoughts, we might discover something that's been with us all along.
If you broke out of the Valentines Day focus on romantic love, what might you confess to adoring?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
More on Oscar Grant
Hey everyone. This is a post I put up on the PSR website. You can read it here, or www.psr.edu (there). The question I responded to was: What is the appropriate role for a seminary or local church when an incident such as the recent slaying of Oscar Grant occurs?
Here it goes...
Social activists of the secular variety bring resources and commitments of their own to the streets. Religious activists and communities who enter this conversation from different places should locate themselves in the story of their particular tradition in order to interpret & respond to the murder of Oscar Grant through a hermeneutic of faith. Religion (when practiced at its best) offers public witnessing, story, symbol, confession, lament, dialogue, litany (like the one Ada Renee posted here), ritual, memorializing, memory & meaning making, contemplative practice, social support, moral frameworks and pastoral care. These are the things our professional roles afford us. They are gifts and should be used responsibly and wisely. We have a power invested in us as faith leaders—for better and worse—that cannot go unchecked. Whether we will it or not, persons in our communities see clergy as spokespersons and representatives for/of G-d. (Of course there are exceptions to this “rule” and people the world over who would rather not ever see a religious leader. However…) It means something for clergy to show up at protests, court-houses, crime-scenes, jail cells, etc. It means something(s) significant. Our showing up often signifies G-d’s care for the world. It initiates G-d’s touch upon the pains of (ruptured) human flesh and the grieving of families who now face a future without their lost loved one. Our professional presence, especially when we are dressed in religious garb, testifies to the relevance of our religion’s story to the on-going perpetration of violence on racialized/sexed/gendered/etc bodies. People need to see the clerical collar, see the stole, see the preaching preacher on the footsteps of city hall. It sends the message that we care about life, that G-d cares about life and if nothing else, we are willing to be with people in their suffering. With these things in mind, what about...
--Standing, marching, writing letters and crying out with the Oakland dissenting citizens and national protestors?
--Articulating publicly (in and out of pulpit) that the sanctity of life was mocked, dismissed and interrupted in the murder of Oscar Grant by Johannes Mehserle?
--Calling out and bringing attention to the tax-funded, institutionally implicating nature of this crime and to question retributive “justice”, “protection” and “freedom” that ideologically support the killing of civilians by armed “service” persons (past and present, domestic and abroad)?
--Contextualizing this current event by naming the history of police brutality in America in general and white-on-black violence/murder/lynching in particular?
--Again in light of this recent tragedy, looking at, learning from and confronting the social construction and lived realities of racialization(s) as they play out in individual lives, families, communities, neighborhoods, institutions, and “nations?”
-- Confessing the pained presence of G-d at Calvary and the pained presence of G-d on the BART platform on January 1st where Mr. Grant’s life was taken?
-- White people confessing the necessary conversion of our hearts still unrealized and highlighted by Mehserle & co’s actions?
--Holding up the tragedy that both Grant’s daughter and Mehserle’s daughter (among others close to the victim and perpetrator) will wrestle with for the rest of their lives?
There’s more. We have building space and educational programs to offer those mobilizing themselves for activism. We have experts (about legal issues and people’s rights for instance) sitting in our pews. We have access to technology and mass communication lists for coalition building. We have space for people to lament in song, prayer and silence. We have training in pastoral counseling to offer the bereaved. I could keep going for days, but I hope the reader gets my point. There’s so much faith communities (seminaries, local churches, denominations, etc) can do. Could we, even for a second, deny that Mr. Grant’s death and the social pain swirling through Oakland (and far far beyond) warrants these gifts/resources that we’ve earned and learned through the privilege of advanced theological education? I don’t think so.
Perhaps in response to Monica Joy’s question, it’s important to deeply search ourselves for the reasons we’re exuberantly ready and willing to employ and deploy these elements in response to some social catastrophes (like Prop 8 and the Immigration Criminalization efforts in 2006) and not so quick to use them in response to other crisis, in this case Johannes Mehserle’s murder of Oscar Grant. I suspect the answer to Monica Joy’s question will be different for each person willing enough to truly ask themselves or prod into their assumptions about what’s worthy of activist attention and what’s not. I for one, having made many mistakes both in ignorantly speaking about and not responding to issues of race, find the task of searching my own participation in racism extremely painful. And in putting my own self out for a second, I’ll admit I usually speak out of ignorance or stay silent when I should speak because I’m scared of getting “it” wrong or offending someone. It’s a people-pleasing thing, totally ego-based and it sucks. But what sucks worse is ducking out of the search & call process completely and thereby allowing the entire plague of white denial and disengagement to use me as a tool in this already hurting society. Regardless of the reasons for mistaken behavior, I point us back to Wade’s comment: “avoidance only leads to further frustration of justice.” As a religious leader, how can I call forth a racially-focused repentance from my flock/patients/colleagues, if I’m not willing to look at (hard, long, and faithfully), name, confess and ask forgiveness for my own racism? Avoiding the personal discomfort certainly blocks growth and reconciliation, but I also think there’s a danger in staying in the personal domain too long. The individual or inward search should not suffice as an appropriate response in total. Sometimes, at the heart of individual reform efforts, there’s a narcissism and myopia that forgets about the greater community. (Or as Jeffrey Kuan said to me last weekend “Sometimes all we do is talk.” Touche.)
Where is the social action? I’d like to see a PSR administrator of faculty person weigh in here. Certainly they have “invested power” of sorts that could be tapped in response to the killing of Mr. Grant. But I wonder if student mistrust of administration and faculty has so disenfranchised folks over the years that faculty and administration are reluctant to join us in activist conversations and activities. Or what about hearing from PSR alumns doing advocacy and local church ministry in the Bay Area--do you have something for us to hear/think about/pray over?
Here it goes...
Social activists of the secular variety bring resources and commitments of their own to the streets. Religious activists and communities who enter this conversation from different places should locate themselves in the story of their particular tradition in order to interpret & respond to the murder of Oscar Grant through a hermeneutic of faith. Religion (when practiced at its best) offers public witnessing, story, symbol, confession, lament, dialogue, litany (like the one Ada Renee posted here), ritual, memorializing, memory & meaning making, contemplative practice, social support, moral frameworks and pastoral care. These are the things our professional roles afford us. They are gifts and should be used responsibly and wisely. We have a power invested in us as faith leaders—for better and worse—that cannot go unchecked. Whether we will it or not, persons in our communities see clergy as spokespersons and representatives for/of G-d. (Of course there are exceptions to this “rule” and people the world over who would rather not ever see a religious leader. However…) It means something for clergy to show up at protests, court-houses, crime-scenes, jail cells, etc. It means something(s) significant. Our showing up often signifies G-d’s care for the world. It initiates G-d’s touch upon the pains of (ruptured) human flesh and the grieving of families who now face a future without their lost loved one. Our professional presence, especially when we are dressed in religious garb, testifies to the relevance of our religion’s story to the on-going perpetration of violence on racialized/sexed/gendered/etc bodies. People need to see the clerical collar, see the stole, see the preaching preacher on the footsteps of city hall. It sends the message that we care about life, that G-d cares about life and if nothing else, we are willing to be with people in their suffering. With these things in mind, what about...
--Standing, marching, writing letters and crying out with the Oakland dissenting citizens and national protestors?
--Articulating publicly (in and out of pulpit) that the sanctity of life was mocked, dismissed and interrupted in the murder of Oscar Grant by Johannes Mehserle?
--Calling out and bringing attention to the tax-funded, institutionally implicating nature of this crime and to question retributive “justice”, “protection” and “freedom” that ideologically support the killing of civilians by armed “service” persons (past and present, domestic and abroad)?
--Contextualizing this current event by naming the history of police brutality in America in general and white-on-black violence/murder/lynching in particular?
--Again in light of this recent tragedy, looking at, learning from and confronting the social construction and lived realities of racialization(s) as they play out in individual lives, families, communities, neighborhoods, institutions, and “nations?”
-- Confessing the pained presence of G-d at Calvary and the pained presence of G-d on the BART platform on January 1st where Mr. Grant’s life was taken?
-- White people confessing the necessary conversion of our hearts still unrealized and highlighted by Mehserle & co’s actions?
--Holding up the tragedy that both Grant’s daughter and Mehserle’s daughter (among others close to the victim and perpetrator) will wrestle with for the rest of their lives?
There’s more. We have building space and educational programs to offer those mobilizing themselves for activism. We have experts (about legal issues and people’s rights for instance) sitting in our pews. We have access to technology and mass communication lists for coalition building. We have space for people to lament in song, prayer and silence. We have training in pastoral counseling to offer the bereaved. I could keep going for days, but I hope the reader gets my point. There’s so much faith communities (seminaries, local churches, denominations, etc) can do. Could we, even for a second, deny that Mr. Grant’s death and the social pain swirling through Oakland (and far far beyond) warrants these gifts/resources that we’ve earned and learned through the privilege of advanced theological education? I don’t think so.
Perhaps in response to Monica Joy’s question, it’s important to deeply search ourselves for the reasons we’re exuberantly ready and willing to employ and deploy these elements in response to some social catastrophes (like Prop 8 and the Immigration Criminalization efforts in 2006) and not so quick to use them in response to other crisis, in this case Johannes Mehserle’s murder of Oscar Grant. I suspect the answer to Monica Joy’s question will be different for each person willing enough to truly ask themselves or prod into their assumptions about what’s worthy of activist attention and what’s not. I for one, having made many mistakes both in ignorantly speaking about and not responding to issues of race, find the task of searching my own participation in racism extremely painful. And in putting my own self out for a second, I’ll admit I usually speak out of ignorance or stay silent when I should speak because I’m scared of getting “it” wrong or offending someone. It’s a people-pleasing thing, totally ego-based and it sucks. But what sucks worse is ducking out of the search & call process completely and thereby allowing the entire plague of white denial and disengagement to use me as a tool in this already hurting society. Regardless of the reasons for mistaken behavior, I point us back to Wade’s comment: “avoidance only leads to further frustration of justice.” As a religious leader, how can I call forth a racially-focused repentance from my flock/patients/colleagues, if I’m not willing to look at (hard, long, and faithfully), name, confess and ask forgiveness for my own racism? Avoiding the personal discomfort certainly blocks growth and reconciliation, but I also think there’s a danger in staying in the personal domain too long. The individual or inward search should not suffice as an appropriate response in total. Sometimes, at the heart of individual reform efforts, there’s a narcissism and myopia that forgets about the greater community. (Or as Jeffrey Kuan said to me last weekend “Sometimes all we do is talk.” Touche.)
Where is the social action? I’d like to see a PSR administrator of faculty person weigh in here. Certainly they have “invested power” of sorts that could be tapped in response to the killing of Mr. Grant. But I wonder if student mistrust of administration and faculty has so disenfranchised folks over the years that faculty and administration are reluctant to join us in activist conversations and activities. Or what about hearing from PSR alumns doing advocacy and local church ministry in the Bay Area--do you have something for us to hear/think about/pray over?
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
How Strange to See the Dawn of Spring on the Third Day of February...
With each passing year
when seasonal change flaunts her forthcoming
I am more and more astounded by the shift.
Perhaps I was too busy believing in consistency
as a child to mark the differences ascribed in
"Day Light Savings Time." As an adult,
something apprehends this upcoming transformation with
joyous anticipation and soul-full anxiety--an anxiety
that knows death and little to nothing about life after it.
It's a bodily intuition that corresponds with
Jacaranda purple and Dogwood blossoms (or should I call them "miracles"?),
an epistemology so honest, sexy and lonely
at the same time
that I begin to question anything
that operates in a straight line.
when seasonal change flaunts her forthcoming
I am more and more astounded by the shift.
Perhaps I was too busy believing in consistency
as a child to mark the differences ascribed in
"Day Light Savings Time." As an adult,
something apprehends this upcoming transformation with
joyous anticipation and soul-full anxiety--an anxiety
that knows death and little to nothing about life after it.
It's a bodily intuition that corresponds with
Jacaranda purple and Dogwood blossoms (or should I call them "miracles"?),
an epistemology so honest, sexy and lonely
at the same time
that I begin to question anything
that operates in a straight line.
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