Driving Me Crazy

Looks like what drives me crazy

Don’t have no effect on you –

But I’m gonna keep on at it

Til it drives you crazy too

(“Evil,” Langston Hughes)

Though I have read and studied many of Langston Hughes’ poems, I had not heard this one until a few weeks ago when Rev. William Moore, a prominent African-American pastor and community leader in Philadelphia, recited it at the Philadelphia Poverty Summit, where he spoke about the continuing to  address economic inequities in the city, the state and the nation

In Philadelphia, as in other cities, huge tax breaks are given to corporations like Comcast and Verizon, and yet people working service level jobs march for a living wage and their demands are regarded as economically infeasible. People work full time for minimum wage, and go home to families they can’t adequately feed or provide for. Corporations like Walmart hire people part time so they don’t have to pay benefits, and tell folks to go on welfare. The CEOs and corporate leaders earn hundreds of millions dollars each year, yet turn around and say $15/hour for their workers is not feasible.

Looks like what drives me crazy has no effect on you.

During several of the Tuesdays in May and June, I have joined dozens of others with the interfaith social justice network POWER on a trip to Harrisburg to advocate for funding increases in our public schools. In urban and small rural districts across the district, schools are operating on less than a shoe string. Class sizes are overcrowded, buildings are physically unsafe and unhealthy, books and materials are outdated and in short supply, and teachers must purchase their own supplies from their own money. Nursing staffs are cut, libraries are closed, extra-curricular activities are eliminated. When I talked with some legislative aides (despite there being “representatives” in those offices, they never seem to have time to see their constituents), I am told that such funding increases are “politically impossible.” What is so impossible about adequately funding schools, so that kids can get the decent education the Pennsylvania Constitution  in mandates them to provide? If it there were their kids or grandkids in those schools, you can bet they would find a way.

Looks like what drives me crazy has no effect on you.

Then of course there is the tragic shooting in the Pulse night club in Orlando by a young man, Omar Mateen, who just a few days before went into a gun store and purchased an assault rifle and a pistol. At last count 49 people had died, and countless others were injured and traumatized when this man went in and executed people on some sort of imaginary mission from ISIS. Yet when the issue of how easily his guns were purchased, the Senate has to have a filibuster to even be forced to talk about it and then of course with the NRA lying in the background, nothing gets done, guns are still as available as before, and the world outside the US looks at us and things we are violent and crazy --- and all for something called the 2^nd Amendment.

Looks like what drives me crazy has not effect on you.

I could go on: the refusal of many states to help resettle Syrian refugees, the callous and inhumane treatment of undocumented immigrants, the lack of clean drinking water in places like Flint, the refusal of conservative politicians to admit that climate change exists, the growing imprisonment of young men of color in the school-to-prison pipeline, and so much more. It drives me crazy.

I often despair of our system. I march, write letters to my representatives, I call for change, I talk to my friends and associates, I write this blog, and for what? But then I remember that substantive change does not come in a week, or a month or a decade, or even in a lifetime. Many times others reap the benefits of those who have gone before. Maybe I am in that “gone before” group on some of these concerns; I hope not, but perhaps I am. So I will keep calling these and many other injustices crazy, and maybe someday those with the power to change the laws, the culture, the system, will get crazy too, and do something.

As I Iistened to Rev. Moore at the Poverty Summit, I realized he had been at it a lot longer than me, and he was still pushing.

Looks like what drives me crazy

Don’t have no effect on you –

But I’m gonna keep on at it

Til it drives you crazy too

You can count on it!

Small Things and Simple Pleasures

This past week my work was extremely stressful. I felt, as I often do these days, that my responsibilities far outstrip by capacities to meet them. I feel beholden to my colleagues, my students, my friends and family members. I worry. I pray, I meditate, I remind myself of all my blessings, and then I worry some more. Sleep can elude me and I come to the end of the day and the week physically and emotionally spent.

While the nature of my work does not really end when the weekend begins, there is something about Friday that allows me to let down. However this week seemed extra special. When I came home last night my wife had cooked a simple meal: hot dogs, fresh corn, and beans and tomatoes from a friend’s garden. Not elegant, simple – yet so refreshing and delightful.

Then on Saturday morning as I often do, I got on my bike for a long ride along the Schuylkill River Trail and then off into the hills north and west of the river. In the beginning the air was clear and fresh, and lots of people were out walking, running, rollerblading and biking. The sun was bright but not harsh, and when I happened to ride through a shaded area, it was cool and invigorating. As often happens when I take my morning rides, I felt  sluggish at first and somewhat out-of-sorts, but after a few miles the endorphins kicked in and I felt alive and at times almost euphoric. At about mile 16 I was going up a long hill and though my legs had to work there was a rush at just being alive. At mile 28 I bent low and pumped my legs on a long straight stretch, and was aware of how fortunate I was to be strong and healthy enough to feel the rush that comes in such moments.When I finished after 32 miles, I felt tired but complete.

Part of the stress of my week is normal work stuff, some is related to changes taking place in my job leading to feelings of uncertainty, and a lot of it comes from considering the state of the world: the violence, the cold-hearted hatred of some leaders, the desperation of migrants seeking refuge and rescue, the poor state of our educational systems especially for the poor, and wars all over the globe. I wonder, as did many a psalmist where God is in all of this, is there any reason for hope, is there any point in trying to change things, and no clear answer comes. So I need these moments of simple pleasure not to escape these other things, but to balance them out.

As I rode my bike I was reminded of some advice the poet Ranier Marie Rilke gave to a young protégé in his classic work,  Letters to a Young Poet, where he describes what Buddhist writers call “mindfulness”, that attention to the wonder of ordinary things and taken-for-granted pleasures. He wrote:

Here in this vast landscape, swept by the winds and sea, I wonder if there is any person anywhere who can answer the questions that stir in the depths of your being. For even the best miss the mark when they use words for what is elusive and nearly unsayable. But nonetheless, I believe you are not left without a solution, if you turn to things like those that are refreshing my eyes. If you ally yourself with nature, with her sheer existence, with the small things that others overlook and that so suddenly can become huge and immeasurable; if you have this love for what is plain and try very simply, as one who serves, to win the confidence of what seems poor: then everything will become easier for you, more coherent, and somehow more reconciling, perhaps not in your conscious mind, but in your innermost awareness.

Small things and simple pleasures are always available, if I simply take time to note them and then take them in.

[Photos taken by the author]

Prayer and the Power of Politics

During the week I was on my seven day silent retreat, several pivotal world events occurred: the Supreme Court decisions preserving the Affordable Care Act and the legalization of same-sex marriage; the coordinated bombings in France, Tunisia and Kuwait; Pres. Obama’s eulogy for Rev. Clementa Pinckney, and the burning of seven African-American churches in South Carolina. Given that I had set aside this time to pray and reflect, I gave these events a dedicated time each day for prayer. However, the issue that consumed most of my attention then and still now was and is the budget negotiations in Harrisburg regarding the proposed increase in funding for public education (which the Democrats and governor proposed and to date the Republicans have opposed).

I was specifically focused on this issue because I knew that while I was at the Retreat Center, fifteen folks had dedicated themselves to fast and maintain a presence on the Capitol steps for the ten days from June 20 to June 30 promoting the adoption of a fully funded formula for public education in Pennsylvania. A few months earlier, I had been part of a group that had developed the idea of a 100 day “Fast for Family Values” across the state, and then worked on the idea of a “Moral Takeover” in Harrisburg focused on a 10 day fast in the final days of the budget negotiations. I had joined about 150 others on June 20 initiating the fast, as we anointed the Capitol doors and laid hands literally and figuratively on the “Harrisburg 15” who would maintain a constant presence on the Capitol steps. During the ten days various groups came each day to support the fasters, but because of my prior commitment to the retreat, I was not among them.

Having been part of the planning up to that point, I was upset and troubled that I was not able to be to support them. As an alternative, I dedicated myself to pray for the fasters and for the negotiations each day. On the retreat grounds was a labyrinth. I didn’t know much about the tradition of praying a labyrinth, nor had I ever done it before in any sort of serious way. The labyrinth is a sort of maze on the ground, which is a tool for prayer and meditation used by many religious traditions. As one author says: “Walking the labyrinth is a way of praying with the body that invites the divine presence into an active conversation with the heart and soul. By engaging in this walking meditation, we are fully engaging our minds, bodies, and spirits at the same time.” On a few evenings I walked the labyrinth thinking of the budget negotiations and praying the words from the Lord’s Prayer: “Thy Kingdom, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” What struck me was that just as the labyrinth was circuitous route from the outside of the circle to the center, so too the ways of God usually do not
follow a straight path and often surprise us when our prayers are answered.

At other times I physically pointed my body in the direction of Harrisburg, even holding out my hands, seeking to reach out to the Capitol with longing and intention. In the morning and again at evening I read the latest news on the negotiations and added that information to my prayers. On a few occasions, I broke my internet silence enough to shoot off a brief email to my legislators, one of whom is the chair of the House Appropriations Committee and therefore a key player in the ongoing budget discussions. All in all I felt at one with the fasters and others advocating and protesting at the Capitol even though I was over 50 miles away.

All of this got me thinking about the power of prayer and the power of politics. Given the choice between joining in a protest or a march versus praying, I would always choose the former, so praying at a distance was different place for me. However, the more I prayed the more emboldened and hopeful I became, and I came to believe that however circuitous the route, justice for the school children of the state and of Philadelphia in particular would prevail. How I didn’t know, but it would prevail.

In their book Faith-Rooted Organizing authors Peter Heltzel and Alexia Salvatierra write “In faith-rooted organizing, we believe we can answer the question, ‘How do we want the world to be different because of our efforts?’ by casting a common vision rooted in God’s vision” (p. 29). Drawing from the examples of Martin Luther King, Jr., Cesar Chavez, liberation theologians and others who rooted their protest in their faith, these authors challenge people of faith to use the tools of faith and their inherent trust in the God of justice to work for positive social change. Those of us involved in the fight for educational justice had done just that in calling for a fast, anointing the Capitol doors, laying hands on the faster and maintaining a prophetic presence. From afar, I was doing the same thing with my labyrinth walks and prayers toward the Capitol. In so doing I felt I was engaging the issue not just at the level of politics, but at the level of what the apostle Paul called “the principalities and powers” (Romans 8) undergirding the political system.

On one level, one might say, “Who are you kidding? Political power will win every time over praying.” Yet I don’t know. I remember Cory Aquino and the People Power Revolution in the Philippines when in 1986 masses of people marching and praying peacefully brought down the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos. I have read of Cesar Chavez’s fast for farmworker justice. I have read of the powerful transformation that took place in South Africa with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Maybe prayer and spiritual power is more than we, at least I, think it is. As I write this, there has been no dramatic change in state funding for education, yet for the first time in a long time, I have begun to feel that the sacrificial power of prayer could win the day, and persistent work backed and accompanying prayer might just prove to be too much for legislators to ignore. We can only wait and see, and of course, pray.

[Pictures by the Author; Labyrinth from Google Images looked very much like the labyrinth I walked]