What is an Artist Worth? A Letter to My Young Cousin

My cousin's 16 year old son and I got into a conversation over on fb after I posted a meme of Bernie Sanders congratulating LA for raising their minimum wage. This is a continuation of that conversation.

Dear Isaiah, 

Because I am no economics genius :), I thought it makes more sense to map out my position by giving you the coordinates of my values first, and to at least touch on how your assumptions feel foreign to those values. Please understand that these are not points in a political position. They are my deeply held and deeply felt core values and way of seeing the world. Many different streams contribute to this pond of values:  almost a half-a century (one more year, grrrr.) of life experience: being born into and spending my early childhood in dismal, impoverished, abusive circumstances; growing up in the chaos of a liberal, laissez-aller, and deeply dysfunctional foster family; many, many of my own mistakes, failures and wrong choices; some successes;  experiencing the often pivotal effect in my life of other’s generosity; traveling around the world and living for longer periods in several different cultures; co-parenting a family of three kind, loving and generous children; living in and leading a community; living with pain and disability; extensive reflection and evaluation of these experiences and of the good and bad role-models and examples that have figured in my story; lots and lots of books, and stories, and movies; reading and reflecting on the abundance of Christian tradition and literature, not least of all the Bible itself; profiting from the fruits of other’s scientific observation, experimentation, information gathering, discoveries, inventions etc; the years I have spent studying conflict; and perhaps most importantly, experiencing grace and being so often transformed by this mysterious and unexplainable and unforeseeable reality I would call the Spirit of God. 

So, here are things I have come to believe and hold to be true, often fail miserably to live out, but keep coming back to as a worthy compass. 

I deeply cherish the story of creation in the Bible. 

(I don’t care, whatsoever, about the creation - evolution debate.) 

For me the opening chapters of the Bible establish a change in paradigms, the understanding of which takes on a whole new depth once you have lived in an animistic culture like PNG, as I have. What I take away from the creation story is this:

1.) The planet we live on is part of a Time-Space matrix, which is not a hostile, unknowable, unpredictable, untamable “Hunger Games” arena ruled by unappeasable gods and ancestor spirits, nor by simple randomness, but rather its foundations are knowable, and it has been given to us as a great big canvas, or playground and garden; it is inherently valuable, and we should care for it and protect it.

2.) We are all Artists: I believe that this is the core of our human identity. We were created in the image of a creator (all we know at that point of the text!), the Alpha Artist to be artists ourselves! It is the foundation of human dignity, the basis of every single person’s fundamental worth, and it is the fountain of their inexhaustible potential. It establishes a baseline for the respect due to everyone, no matter their circumstances or what they have done or failed to do, for the debt we owe to every man, woman and child, to love them and let them live in dignity.

 

3.) We are all Screw Ups: In all of my years, I have never met anyone who was perfect, who never messed up, or who had a spotless record or character. Not a single one. Ever.  

4.) We are diverse: Each person is unique (and screws up in his/her own unique way). Each one of us show up somewhere on a spectrum in any given point of what we think, believe, have, look like, what we can or can’t do, where we are from, and no two people overlap in all points exactly, ever.  Unfortunately we tend to divide up and evaluate each other, favor or neglect, esteem or hold in contempt, empower or exploit, according to these four categories: a) Bodies (gender, race, disability/ability, age) b) Geographical location (which influences ethnicity, culture, language, sports team) c) Ideology (politics, religion (tho it is often connected to location, people can and do switch) d) Economic class (what we have/don’t have in wealth, property, opportunity, mobility, education, skills, and status symbols)

Because of these last two points,

5.) Conflict is an inevitable part of life: After eating, relieving oneself, and sleeping, conflict is the next thing on the list that make up our lives the moment we live in a human plural. Our ways of dealing with conflict can either be constructive or destructive, and that will depend on whether we respond with shame/hubris or guilt/grace when differences arise.

- Shame Leads to Competition, Isolation, Exploitation, Exclusion, and Violence,

- Guilt is empathic and leads to authenticity and vulnerable truth-telling (confession), restitution (Zacchaeus, Luke 19:1-10), and can lead to reconciliation, justice and deep community

6.) I believe in, have experienced, and work towards Redemption:  People (and things in a way) who have been broken by their own or other’s shortcomings, who have been rolled over by the consumer and domination systems of this world and have been isolated, exploited, excluded or violated, or who have done these things, can be resurrected, reclaimed, re-created, and reinstated in community, through grace, forgiveness, and a renewed investment in their inherent and potential value.

7.) Capitalism vs. Kingdom of God: Though the domination systems of this world are wreaking havoc all over the globe for the love of mammon, and in the name of “progress”, or purity, or glory, and tho the destruction and cruelty and suffering often seem so utterly hopeless, I do still hold on to the belief that it is never in vain to believe in, pray for, and work toward Shalom, Ubuntu, “God’s kingdom, His will on earth as it is in Heaven,” the culture of faith, hope, love, peace and justice, interdependence, mutual flourishing for everyone and all of creation and in this life, which God intended from the beginning.  

“The free market system,” capitalism, or America are no proxies for God’s Kingdom. They are not “baby sitters” until the time of judgement. They are corrupt systems of this world, which we must find someway to live in with integrity, but must never mistake for the Kingdom of God. My first allegiance is to live these “kingdom” values and culture here on earth, as part of the world wide body of Christ, and in my experience, that is usually done outside of, despite, in subversion to, and circumventing the “free market systems.”

8.) Concretely for me, this means doing the things that God does in this world:

- creating

- nurturing

- protecting

- empowering

There is no dividing these up, that some people should do one or some of them, and others something else. If you leave any one of these things out, things get messed up, people become exploited machines, get neglected, become enslaved, or are disenfranchised of rights and responsibilities as an interdependent member of community.

Everyone has been called and given the responsibility and authority to live that way. EVERYone.

10.) However, not everyone has the same amount of power at their disposal.

• Though some of that power/advantage might be self wrought (i.e. the parable of the Talents, the ones with more money did actually invest it to profit), no one is born into a vacuum. No one, anywhere, gets to greater advantage purely on their own steam and merit. Attitudes of entitlement are dangerous and out of place in the economics of God’s Kingdom.
• Always where there is a greater amount of power, there is a greater responsibility to use that power to be creative (innovative), to nurture, to protect and to empower those with less power. Contempt for those in positions of less power and advantage is never warranted. (“There, but for the grace of God, go I”)
• Even in a position of less or very little power, there are creative, nonviolent ways to circumvent and subvert abuse of power by the systems of domination and work toward mutual flourishing. (i.e. see all the Gospels)

  

11.) Sabbath, tithing, Gleaning and Jubilee: Because of all these things above, I believe that we don’t have to “go over our fields twice”, trying to squeeze every last drop of profit for ourselves, take every advantage, maximize the bottom line to the expense of other values and other people, or work seven days a week to get ahead, but that we can “leave some” for others, rest, quiet our ambitions, realign ourselves with our core values, give back and pay it forward. Jubilee addresses the devastating injustice of generational poverty, children paying for the sins, mistakes, misfortune, or outright victimization of their parents and grandparents, their ethnic group, their race, or their bodies, and gives people a clean slate, a chance to start over, an outside intervention to break this otherwise inescapable cycle of poverty, self-destruction, and, often, violence. 

So, that is where I am coming from. What follows is my breaking down how your comments and arguments sound to me, where they strike a nerve, and where they appear to collide with my values.

Assumption #1: Brain over Brawn: Cognitive labor over manual labor. White collar vs. Blue collar jobs. The “years you spent training” your brain to understand and perform complicated computer codes (time & attention) is inherently more valuable and deserves more reward than the personal cost of physical labor. So much more, in fact, that the latter does not even deserve a living wage for the time and effort he/she actually spends working.

• It is true that at different times our society needs different things and rewards those things with more money and acclaim. After WWII tenacity, hard work, practicality, elbow grease were needed to rebuild a bombed out Germany, but now that it has built a strong economy, we need creative, innovative thinkers more than ever to help solve problems in the ever more complicated world we live in: sustainability, conflicts in pluralistic, over populated societies, energy crises, etc. But those skills are not more valuable in an absolute sense. Nor does it mean that other skills become irrelevant or unnecessary. This should go without saying, but service, agricultural, educational, and industrial jobs (building infrastructure) are the backbone of a society. The unfortunate fact is, our society tends to reward those jobs the most that not only contribute little to no real value or product, but actually harm and degrade and destroy it. Think Wall street, porn, celebrities, cigarettes, alcohol, etc. It doesn’t take long to see who our free market pushes to the top. 

Assumption #2: That flipping burgers takes “0” skill. Not just less skill, or little skill, but “0” skill. 

• I hear contempt: “0” skill means “0” value, “0” respect, “0” slice of the shalom. 
• I will give you the benefit of the doubt, and assume that this is hyperbole, and that what you really mean is “less” or “little” skill. 
• I have not “flipped burgers,” but I have bussed tables, served desserts, hosted and waited on tables, and worked with line cooks, bakers and dishwashers, and am alive to tell you, that it was the hardest, most stressful job I have ever done. It was my first boot camp of life and I had to really scramble to learn to multitask, know and recite the entire menu and wine list by heart, remember orders (an utter nightmare for me), be speedy (as in yesterday already!), be organized, balance trays, carry heavy trays, walk at least 5 to ten miles during shifts, be cordial and diplomatic while taking crap from nasty and upset people, constantly get hit on and hear rude, sexist remarks, work in a team, do math (ugh!). And I made 2,15 an hour (plus fluctuating, unreliable tips). I would get negative pay checks at the end of the month! The work was so hard, that it literally broke my back and gave me a handicap that I have had to live with the rest of my life. 

Assumption #3: “Flipping burgers is a stand in for every low wage job on the market, and therefore, these low wage jobs are equally “unskilled” and therefore less-rewardable.

• Of course there are many more factors to figure into calculating someone’s wage than the amount of skill involved. Risk of injury, danger, health risks, labor intensity, discomfort, amount of intrinsic reward, necessity to a functioning society (trash-men are paid relatively well here in Germany). Here is a list of the 10 worst paid jobs in America: http://www.newrepublic.com/article/119269/ten-worst-paying-jobs-america-what-they-are-who-has-them  (Hard to believe that life guards are paid more than farm workers, and that parking lot attendants are paid more than personal care aids) 
• “According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, more than 22 percent of Americans hold one of the lowest paying jobs that the agency categorizes.” 
• In addition to working in restaurants,  I have worked as a receptionist,  cleaned houses, worked in daycare, taught in schools, and worked retail, among other things, and none of those jobs paid a living wage, or even what the sacrifice, time, effort and, yes, skill deserved.

Assumption #4: Any such job is/should only be regarded as a stepping stone. Anyone who stays in such a low-wage job does so because they are too lazy to move themselves forward, to get themselves on the train of progress. It is their own fault (“poor life decisions down the road,” “lack of character,” “he has a disease” ), if they stay in these jobs past their teenage years.

• This is such reductionistic thinking, that I hardly know where to begin. 
• I think of the people who love to cook, and want to be cooks (even will spend their own money to do it).
• I think of my brother who is highly skilled and gifted at making homes beautiful, who does what he loves with excellence and is just barely keeping his head above water (as a single guy!).
• I think of the people who love young children, and want to be child care workers.
• I think of someone I know who is barely surviving, supporting a family, being a self employed hairdresser (not to mention the poor souls who are exploited by large chains!), who is fantastic at what he does and is a blessing to me (the cliche is totally true of hairdresser-priest-psychologist in our case, and I end up crying every time I'm in his chair): Why is that less valuable than what you do? Where should he climb to from there? He works long and hard, values excellence, wants to live creatively in charitable community doing what he is gifted to do and provide for his family. Why isn’t it enough to do those things with dignity? Why should he struggle, not to live in luxury, but to just barely scrape by?
• But beyond that, there are myriads of reasons why people don’t, can’t or choose not to move out of what you consider to be “stepping stone,” menial labor jobs. Sure laziness, hopelessness, and lack of courage are probably the reasons for some. But to assume that you know the motivations, circumstances, opportunities, roadblocks, and pressures that 22% of Americans face is uncharitable and unworthy of you. 
• I believe we are interdependent, and that everyone has something different to contribute, and that the eye should not say to the nose, “You shouldn’t just be a nose, you should strive to be an eye,” because then the thing would be a cyclops and that would be gross. (I Corinthians 12:12-18)

Assumption #5: That a free market society (pure capitalism) is the cat’s meow. That it is fair and somehow is immune to man’s sinfulness, greed and lust for power, and everyone has the same chance at making it work for them if they only tried.

• See #7, 10 and 11 of my values.

Assumption #6: Not only that, but the free market is actually a good tool for disciplining and educating and bringing about good character, motivating the bottom feeders to progress to the next rung on the latter.

• I did not make a change in my life, sign up for college, after three years of waitressing because it paid too little. I would not have stayed in the job if it had paid a decent, living wage (one where I could work just 40 hours and still pay rent, eat, not be naked). I knew that I needed to move on. I was not satisfied or fulfilled being a waitress. Maybe for someone else, that is the thing, but I was neither gifted in doing it, nor did I draw any meaning from it. These last 20 years I have been doing things that do have meaning for me and for what I am better gifted, and I have made almost no money doing them (tho, that is another bone to pick).  
• I also would not have been able to move on, if it were not for the foresight and generosity of your great grandfather, my grandpa, who steered me back in the direction of college, when it seemed like that door had closed to me, AND who covered ALL of my expenses! Talk about Jubilee! Grandma and Grandpa were my Jubilee!!!!

Assumption #7: money corrupts poor people, but not the “successful”

• see value #3 “we are all screw ups”

Assumption #8: “successful” = progress, only progress leads/should lead to more money, progress is the premium value.

• Hmmm… doesn’t look too good for a certain Nazarene I know...
• How does God measure success? I can think of several passages in the Gospels, where Jesus holds up very unlikely people as examples for the disciples.
• I would say that deep connection and charitable community are the bottom line.

Assumption #9: People only change when they hit rock bottom, so it is good to have an economic system that has a “rock bottom” built into it. 

• This has been shown not to be the case with addiction. People are more inclined to change, when they think there is a hope and a possibility that they will be able to.
• Tell that to Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1-10), who after years of being punished for his sins with shunning and exclusion from the Jewish community to no effect, instantly responded to the kindness, respect and inclusion that Jesus showed him with repentance and restitution and was re-instated in the community of God’s children.

Assumption #10: That the value of hard work, which your parents instilled in you, is the full extent of the privilege you enjoy.

• Really? 
• In just about every category I mentioned in value#4 you come out a lap ahead of the rest. 
• And so does my son. 
• Location, Body, Ideology, Class … do I really need to take you through a head to head comparison with some of the people I have met in my travels? ‘Cause, I will if you want me to.
• None of that is your fault, nor is it something anyone has the right to try and take away from you or make less of. But many of the things that give you and my son an advantage in this world came to you the very day you were born and could do absolutely nothing about. To look at the distance between you and someone far, far behind you and pat yourself on the back for it makes me wince. 
• Gratitude. That is the only appropriate response. Gratitude and a commitment to create, nurture, protect, and empower those who have not been dealt a full house in the grueling economics of this world.
• This is a truth that has touched our son in a profound way during his time in PNG. In the many Skypes we have had with him, he must have told us dozens of times, that he keeps asking himself, with tears, “How did I get so lucky? Why was I born in Germany? Why was I born into such a great family? How did I get so lucky to have the best parents? (see what I did there?). I pray and hope that this realization and gratitude of his also translates to a life-long commitment to create spaces of justice, feed the hungry, give living water to those who are thirsting for meaning and relevance, clothe the naked with dignity, and give strength and confidence to the weak to live in the fullness of their rights and responsibilities as Artists on this earth.

Assumption #11: That you are smarter than Bernie Sanders.

• Um… I am not smarter than Bernie Sanders, so...
• :-)

Argument #1: That the wage raise will, must be, passed on to the consumer.

• Or not - http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/04/14/gravity-payments-raise_n_7061676.html

Argument #2: Wage raise for some will mean job loss for others.

• Nope -
• “Myth: Increasing the minimum wage will cause people to lose their jobs.
• Not true: A review of 64 studies on minimum wage increases found no discernable effect on employment. Additionally, more than 600 economists, seven of them Nobel Prize winners in economics, have signed onto a letter in support of raising the minimum wage to $10.10 by 2016.”

Argument #3: Wage raise will lead to product devaluation/inflation (??)

• Think again:
• Myth: Increasing the minimum wage is bad for the economy.
• Not true: Since 1938, the federal minimum wage has been increased 22 times. For more than 75 years, real GDP per capita has steadily increased, even when the minimum wage has been raised.

Argument #4: There are alternative ways to betterment (self, community, environment), which circumvent the current capitalistic and consumer addicted society. (retooling a computer you found in the trash).

• YEAH!!!!!  We agree on something! Yippy! Only my most favoritest thing ever! My house is full of “trash,” things, furniture, appliances (Jan got my espresso machine from the street! No fixing needed!), that we found on the street, in flea markets, or thrift stores, hand-me-downs, give aways, and cheapo finds at the 2nd chance corner of Ikea. My #1 hobby is refurbishing and repurposing such furniture finds. But then, hey, Peter and Sharon are your Grandparents and my favorite Aunt and Uncle, so what else can you expect? :) (but you can literally chase me out of a room by opening up and doing surgery on a computer! I can’t even look at it or my brain will blow a fuse)

What Will I Inherit?

The rooms are empty now,

     and yet the floors and walls are steeped in memories

How do we keep them?

How can we ferry them across the generations?

I want to salvage what I can, 

     before the doors lock behind me

I want to scour the house for some good thing

I want to savor that smell

I want to retrieve some small ember 

     of the warmth that once gathered here

I want to drink from the family well

But the house has grown cold

The well is almost all dried up

The life has been eking out of the cracks, 

     dispersing across the country,

     gathering in other homes,

     digging other wells.

The rooms are empty now

Only relics remain

So what can I ask for? 

What will I receive?

Is there anything left for someone so far away?

Something that will smuggle out of the country 

     a lifetime worth of trips 

to Grandma’ and Grandpa’s house?

The bricks and mortar are staying put

The foundation strong but immobile

     too burdensome for transport to another context

Anyway, left to someone I hardly know… so

I want the crawl space in the unfinished basement,

That small clearance, where only children can stoop, 

     and with a scoop of imagination,

          create a stage for heroes 

               with socks for skin and hands as bones.

Please, just bag it up, this tiny magic place, 

     and send it overseas,

And I shall grow from it another house, 

     with soul, and spirit, 

          and living, breathing, pulsing stones

No chairs, no tables, no rugs or cupboards,

No beds, no paintings, no pillows or covers

     none of these will fit in my check-in luggage.

Every item too big, too cumbersome, too heavy a load,

     So...

May I just have the alligator moat?

That space between the beds upstairs,

     which flowed with crock infested, rushing waters

Just throw them in a little boat, 

     those make-believe reptiles snapping at our legs,

          as we jumped from one mattress to the other.

And let them rough it on the Ocean Seas,

     until they find their way back home to me

The table is taken

The plates are packed

The glasses gone

So, may I have the wet twinkle in my uncle’s eyes?

Can I have the belly laughter that rolled 

     through the dining room?

I’d like to have Grandma’s soft, lilting, reading voice,

     and Grandpa’s raspy, enquiring interjections

I want to keep the stories

     of younger years and days of old

And if someone else should claim the silver 

     and the gold

I want to have the tales of sorrow 

     gone untold

Especially those 

     tales of sorrow gone untold.

When the shelves are empty 

     and the closets bare

When the lights are off

     and the fire has burned out

When the house lay dark

     and cold as a tomb

And there’s nothing left

     but the elephants in the room

Let me take that invisible herd,

     that has been there as long as I remember

I’ll slip them past customs unseen,

     fly them to a far off place in the sun

Give them each a name 

     and shoot them one by one

Now I’m standing in the kitchen

It is time to go

     and deep down I know

I will never see her again

I kiss her lips and squeeze her hand

     and fight the water in my eyes

So much time, so much distance, 

     so many worlds between us

How quickly we run out of time and things to say 

     and no parting words redeem us

But I am not leaving empty handed

I’ve smuggled something precious in my carry-on

Something that I have received all through my years, 

     though I live so far away

     and never even asked for it

So now at home, when it gets dark,

     and hard, 

     and I’m all tied up 

          and tangled in my scars

I look to her faithful, humble prayers 

     collected like fireflies 

          in these three blue jars.

Christa's Baptism

What was meant to be a dunk in the pool and then a garden party, was moved indoors because of the weather. Nonetheless, it was a very special day not only for Christa, but also for our whole family. Thanks to everyone who came and helped to make it so special; to Alan for leading us through the ceremony, to the "Burgertreff Hochzoll" for letting us use their beautiful and practical accommodations at the last minute and for a big discount, and a huge thanks to Katherine for cooking those delicious Nigerian dishes!!! And of course thank you to everyone for all the yummy salads and cakes that were brought! It was certainly a day that Christa will cherish, and that is what we wanted. Maybe at some point, I will get around to translating the mini-sermon Jan and I gave in tandem and will post it on the blog as well, but for now, here are some pictures of the day.

Mama Bear!!! Grrrrrr!!

Ok, so this is a longer story….

Since shortly before this past christmas break, Charis (12) fell in outs with the “click” in her class. One of the girls, who she had been friends with (had even spent the night here), stopped being her friend from one day to the next, because of a new girl who purposefully wedged Charis out of this group. Then they proceeded to make her miserable every day, writing notes, whispering about her, glaring, trying to get others in the class against her. With every girl Charis tried to hang out with in the break, they would start to be sugar sweet to her and monopolize her. It took weeeeeeeeks before I could get the school to do anything. Finally there was one talk with all the girls and Charis, and the worst of it stopped. Still, this group of girls dominates the class and is totally prissy about every little thing. Charis is not your wall-flower-I’ll-do-whatever-you-say-just-so-I-can-be-near-you kind of girl, so she keeps getting in the line of fire.

She has been asking for a long while now if she can switch to Jonathan’s school, but I haven’t really entertained the idea, until I spoke with a mother recently, who did switch her daughter, and was glad she did. So, I called the Principal to see if he could give me some kind of reason to keep her at the school… some assurance that they would finally take the problem seriously… ha! “Problem? What problem? That is just Charis’ side of the story… no one else in the class seems to have a problem. It’s a normal class and none of the teachers has mentioned that there are any problems. It depends on how you define “fighting”…. bla bla bla!” Basically, he wanted me to know that it was my problem and not his.

Anyway, that very day Charis comes home in tears…. this little prissy brat (sorry, but I’ve still got my fangs and claws out!) was screaming at her in sport class, because Charis fouled her, then threw the ball at her as hard as she could. Later, when Charis went to change, her new shoes had been stolen.

So, today, I went into the class (luckily at the same time the sport teacher went in to bring up the issue, and she let me in, and let me rant!!), and I told that class exactly what I thought of them. Especially this particular brat and the two girls who had been guests in our home, and now don’t give Charis the time of day. I also scolded the entire class for letting this little mouse of a girl intimidate them all… “just because she has a big mouth, you think she’s a lion, but she is just a little mouse! You should all be ashamed of yourselves that you let some of these girls boss others, and scream at Charis, and NOBODY does anything against it… but then talk about her (the brat and the click) behind their backs… how lame is that and cowardly?” By the time I was done, a couple of girls who I had targeted were in tears.

While I was waiting for the sport teacher and the girls were switching classes, and Charis came down surrounded by girls from her class, I asked her if she found it terribly embarrising, and all the girls started in “no way, that was great! finally someone speaks up and finally DOES something!” When Charis got home, she told me that a few girls came to her and apologized for stuff that had happened back at the beginning of 5th! grade, or finally told her why they stopped being friendly with her (one was hurt, because Charis hadn’t shown up to her birthday party (our bad). Some came up to her and asked if I was mad at them, because I was looking at them so intensly (I basically stared that entire class down to the size of pin head). and tonight Charis got a message on her school network from the girl who had screamed at her… half apology, half trying to get me not to call her parents. Her turkish friend in the class, said it was too bad she could never get her mom to do something like that, because she can hardly speak german!

Moral of the story: parents should be way more involved in what goes on in school!

But, the way it looks, we got the one and only spot that opened up for a seventh grade girl at jonathan’s school, and Charis still wants to switch, so I will make the call tomorrow to confirm it.

Now She Knows

Nine years old

and now she knows

She asked me in the car

driving to her violin lessons

pretty as can be

her long blond hair

uncombed as always

Nine years old

and now she knows

Emre, a Turkish boy

in her class

told her

How does he know?

Just out of the blue,

he says something like that?

Nine years old

and now she knows

she will ride in a horse drawn carriage

and her flower girls will ride ponies

she has lots of names for her children

so this is hard to understand

she thinks being a mommy

is the best thing in the world

and I am the best mommy

Nine years old

and now she knows

“Mommy, is it true,

that some people

kill their babies

even before they are born?

Their girl babies?”

Nine years old

and now she knows

Girl babies aren’t as good

Boy babies are better, but

“I’m going to keep

all of my babies,

boys and girls,

I’ll love them both

the same”

Nine years old

and now she Knows

Maggie, We're Back

I’ve long retired the word coincidence. I’ve experienced too many amazing circumstances, incidences of time and space colliding together for good in my life, to assume that they all just tumbled out of the bag that way. The nearest I’ll come to this expression is to use the word serendipity, which I borrowed from Scott Peck many, many years ago. Call it what you will, but what are the chances that just days before my feet at long last touch Irish soil, my aunt Becky would send me the first installment of my ancestral chart, which neatly locates three and four boxes back from mine the last of our line to be born in the land of clover? Luck of the Irish? Anna Collins, born in Ireland in 1862, Henry McGivern born about 1835, and best of all, Maggie, born just as the potato famine was starting to decimate the population of Ireland in 1845.

I’m relishing the solitude as I walk along the coast from my room at the Redbank Inn in Skerries to the Stoop Your Head Tavern which was recommended to me by the two “native” women on my flight. And they were right, dinner was delicious. But more than my taste-buds have been tantalized. I think I would never tire of hearing the lovely Irish lilt, especially when it comes from the likes of the little girls sitting next to me. Katie is the oldest of the three and most curious about the single woman writing in her little pink notebook and eavesdropping on her family. Maybe Maggie was about Katie’s age when hunger drove her family to look for the land of plenty. I might never know when and why Maggie sought American soil, but I do know that she survived the five year famine, which reduced the population of Ireland by a quarter. I,600,000 people either starved to death, succumbed to disease or fled Ireland by the time a new census was taken in 1851. I also know she survived the harrowing voyage across unfriendly seas in the overcrowded “coffin ships,” which took the lives of many hundreds more.

As I pay my check with a little plastic card, I can’t help but smile. Maggie made it, Married an English man and had a daughter. An American daughter. Maggie, we’re back, and there is plenty of food in Ireland now!

Open Letter to Jonathan for His Confirmation

Dear Jonathan,

Because you didn’t want me to give a long sermon during the confirmation celebration, I had to leave out some of what has been stirring in me in regards to this momentous step you’ve taken, but I would like to share those thoughts with you none the less.

We just celebrated Easter exactly one week before you confirmed your baptism this past Sunday, so the timing for our theme verse is just perfect. After Jesus rose from the dead he appeared to the still disbelieving disciples, Mark 16:15 and told them, “Go into all the world and preach the Good News to all creation.” A lot could be said about the verses that follow this one, but actually, this one short verse captures well what my deepest longings for you are.

“Preach” is the very center of the verse- the verb, without it the whole sentence falls apart. I think for too long I was made to think that, “to Preach the Gospel (Good News) meant to tell people the 4 spiritual laws and get them to sign a religious document, and swear them into our “group.” But that is not what Jesus did when he was on earth. Some might think, that “preaching” is something that only pastors or youth pastors, or only men can do, but that is not true. I don’t think Jesus is talking about giving a well crafted monologue to a group of passive listeners. I believe if we follow Jesus’ example, then “preaching” means that our whole being becomes a message of life, liberation and creation. “Preaching” means choosing to become a Channel of God’s Shalom as we live dialectically in this beautiful but often gruesome world. And that is what I deeply long for your life to be, Jonathan: a channel of God’s, creative, nurturing, protecting and liberating power, which offers others an alternative to enmity, abandonment, greed and violence.

Much more than just an excuse to use the colors Mint and Chocolate-brown as a decorating theme (which was more fun than anyone can possibly imagine:-), the pillars of this verse couldn’t be more relevant or more necessary to our present day if they had first appeared in the news paper yesterday. “Into all the world.... to all creation.” This is very simple, but immensely profound: There are no boundary markers, which delineate that God’s love and goodness has gone far enough! (“if I go to the far side of the sea, even there your love will find me. Ps.). There are no borders that can deny God’s death defying power passage. No one, no country, no ethnic group, no religion and no race has any claim to a monopoly on either God’s alternative to enmity and death or to God’s benevolent nurture and protection from oppression. My deep longing for you Jonathan, is that to the extent that you experience freedom and nurture, forgiveness and grace that those things never end at your borders, never end at your comfort zone, but spill over to your family, your street, your neighborhood, your school, your city. That you not only bring God’s love across the border of your city to your country, but that you break through the boundaries of your culture and have eyes of compassion for the “other” that seems so foreign and distant. God’s love is even not limited to our species! The good news is for all of creation, for every living thing. We are intrinsically connected, not only to each other, but to all of creation. If one part suffers, we all suffer. So, my prayer for you, Jonathan, is that God’s offer to live free of condemnation, alienation and destitution never runs up against any constraints in your life, but instead finds a free passage “into all the world... and to all creation”, because no one should be excluded from the goodness of God.

Only one teeny-tiny word I still want to chew on!

“Go!”

Unfortunately, too much of the message last weekend was “stay!” “Find a comfortable niche in our church, serve here, stay with us!” Jesus does sometimes say stay... but always only for a short time, to pray, to wait for direction, marching orders. Here he is saying a very clear GO! The Good News is not a group we invite people to, but something we bring with us everywhere we Go! Jonathan, you chose this year to “confirm”, reaffirm your child baptism. Baptism is an initiation right, it marks an entrance into something. Not an entrance into faith, faith in Christ is what led to the decision to be baptised/confirmed. But it is also not an entrance into a “group”! Not the “group” LKG (our local church), not the group “Christians,” and certainly not the group with the “stars upon thars!”

You have been confirmed into a MOVEMENT not a club! A movement that is scheming and plotting creative and alternative ways of spreading God’s freeing, nurturing and protecting love to everyone and every living thing everywhere! It is not something that we do as a hobby in our spare time, on Sundays or one night a week at band practice. It is a mighty, rushing river, and once we have put our foot into it, it grabs us with its full force and takes us on a white water adventure that will never bring us back to the same river bank from where we started. There is no “in part.” God doesn’t just toss us His spare change as He is passing by. He identifies Himself in solidarity with all of humanity; He invites us into deep communion with himself; and He invites us to share in all of His wealth! Your baptism was with water from this rushing river, and symbolizes your entrance into a Movement of people who have chosen to channel and translate God’s solidarity, His offer of communion and His divine wealth through every aspect of their being toward the whole world and all of creation without exception!

So what about the subject of this sentence? Gospel: Good News? That is a question I want to leave you with. As you watch this presentation, as you later move through our world, ask yourself, “What is good news for this world?”

Most of the information in this video is taken from the book "Everything Must Change," by Brian Mclaren.

Music is from Ben Harper ; Ben Harper and Jack Johnson

pictures are mostly stolen off the net, but many are from our time in PNG

Our Conservative Children

My enthusiasm for seasonal decorating is waning. I still love the house to be decorated, I’m just tired of all the work involved. So, I find myself starting later, simplifying the process, cutting corners and generally trying to avoid baking altogether. But my kids will have none of that. Charis and Christa, especially, are my early warning alarm system, sounding off about the time that the first Lebkuchen appear in stores. Lest I forget my true purpose in life and think for even a moment I will escape recreating exactly the aura of Christmas’ past, they implore me to put up the advent stockings in time for the First of December, nag me to finally get around to doing the top of the piano and the bay windows, and with almost photographic memory, insist even on the specific placement of certain Ornaments. This year I was taken aback and began to ponder the deeper psychology of this behavior, after Christa grabbed one of the stockings and forcefully insisted, “We have to hang this one on this door, that is where it was last year. It has to go here!”

“Oooohkaaaay. Weird. What’s that all about?” Suddenly I saw us meticulously following a recipe, aligning all the pieces in just the right place, so that something would happen. A kind of time machine made out of one family’s collection of handmade ornaments, which, if set to exactly the same coordinates as previous Christmas’, would teleport the anticipatory joy, the warm glow, the comfort and good cheer of the past Noel into our experience of the present season. A kind of magic ritual to conjure up for our current pleasure that part of our past experience which pictures and videos were not able to capture. An almost desperate attempt to grab these fond holiday memories by the tail and pull them back up from the abyss of history to once more satisfy our nostalgic longings, conserving them like pickles in the mason jar of our annual holiday rituals. That is when the penny dropped: my children are CONSERVATIVES!!

Redemption is A Pink Chair with a Floral Seat Cover.

I guess she was only doing the natural thing. How many times had she been in the car, when we stopped at a pile of junk in front of some building to look for something that seemed “interesting?” The three old wardrobes (two of which we have passed on to friends or family), tables, fold up chairs, old wood, stools and even picture frames are now a part of our home ensemble thanks to a habit both Jan and I have picked up from our parents: scavenging! Don’t anybody get grossed out, we don’t go through people’s garbage cans, just the bulky furniture and old “stuff” that people don’t want or need anymore. What in the states would probably be a sure sign someone had been evicted, is called “Sperrmüll” here in Germany. We clean out our basement about once a year, call the city’s waste management department and make an appointment for our stuff to be picked up. We then organize it into very tidy piles of metal, wood, and plastic the night before. The pile usually inspires the neighbors to do a bit of spring cleaning themselves, and so the pile grows (and then inevitably shrinks a little again) by morning.

One day this past spring, Christa, my then 7 year old, still 2nd grader, comes home to tell me that she passed by one of these piles on her way home from school. “There are some chairs.” I “should go check them out.” I guess I was really busy that afternoon, because I didn’t squeeze in even a few minutes for my compulsive hobby, wasn’t swept away by the usual fantasy flow, that maybe someone, unbeknownst to them, was throwing away a valuable retro-designer piece. Next afternoon my then 7 year old, still in 2nd grade, with a heavy school bag on her back, on an unusually warm day, comes home carrying one of these chairs!

If I had fallen in love with the chair, I would have rushed out and retrieved the other three, but I didn’t. Realizing what Christa had done, however, I knew that I was going to have to get creative with this chair. My little dumpstering daughter was just too adorable. Of course I took my time getting around to the project, so it wasn’t until months later, once we got back from our summer vacation in England and still had lots of good weather for working outside, that I got to work filling out the dents, sanding, spray painting, removing the nasty layers of fabric and then covering the seat with a fresh new, but retro floral fabric from Ikea. The neighbors were intrigued. I love the chair now, and regret that I didn’t go back to get the other three when I had the chance.

What took one sentence to describe, tho, took hours and hours to actually do. Our “new,” “free” chair wasn’t free at all. The swath of new fabric wasn’t costly, but the two cans of spray paint weren’t cheap, and if I would charge a decent hourly rate (a local charges 30€ an hour), few could afford to buy the chair for the amount I would feel obliged to write on a price tag. One could say, that a chair which had lost all of what value it might have once had for its original or previous owner, has become priceless to its new owner (me) primarily because of her own attitude and actions toward the afore mentioned furniture. This activity of making a renewed, creative and significant investment in an object, a system or a person, so as to reclaim its lost or inherent value, or uncover its possible/potential value is what I call Redemption. It is one of the most beautiful words in the English language, an immensely profound reality, a “deep magic” existing since even before the foundations of the world. Redemption is the ultimate joker; it’s the ace up a sleeve. I feel mischievous, almost cunning, when I have succeeded in turning something found on a garbage pile into something beautiful and functional, like I’ve circumvented some ubiquitous consumer principle; outwitted the odious constricting tentacles of decay, deterioration, and yes, even death itself.

The Redemption Reality offers us a way to view not only broken and unwanted things, but broken and unwanted people, broken relationships, dysfunctional systems and miserable circumstances. For a Redeemer, each is a challenge to be creative, make a significant and personal investment and cheekily break the rules of death and decay in order to make something beautiful and of immeasurable value. In this vein, beauty truly is in the eye of the Redeemer. I am immensely pleased that my daughter seems to already be infected with this kind of foresight.

Jonathan's Confirmation

April 19th we celebrated Jonathan’s confirmation (Lutheran version of Bar Mitzvah, without any of the really challenging parts!) with close friends and family from out of town. I’m posting this only now, because I waited for the photo’s from the “official” photographer, who is to thank for documenting the ceremony for the families. After the church ceremony, we celebrated with a lunch and afternoon tea in a newly renovated old school house, which has been converted to a neighborhood, multi generational community center. Among many other events/programs, they encourage the performing arts by hosting Sunday matinée concerts. Jan and I have performed one of our “story concerts” there several weeks ago, getting a positive review in our local paper. In addition to the great location for our party of about 40, we had the opportunity of engaging a catering service of which I have become a huge fan. I will write more about it in my next blog, because I am so impressed with it and with the man who started it. Fitting to our “into all the world,” international theme, we had a buffet with hot and cold dishes from a myriad of countries mostly in the southern hemisphere, the recipes of which stemmed from the home countries of the women who cooked them.

We kicked off the party with a champagne reception and game. Upon arrival everyone got a paper with a country and pertinent information about that country taped to their back. Then everyone had to ask yes or no questions to try and find out what country they had, asking no one person more than two questions. When everyone was let into the main dining hall, they found their table by looking for the one labeled with the continent of their country and got a “grab bag” of table mates. We also had a large, blank map posted to one wall, in which guests where asked to write in any and all of the countries they were able to name - we, as a group, filled in almost all of them- and then they could also use the post-it arrows to mark all the countries they had already been to or lived in. As you can see from the pictures, our World theme was carried thru the entire decoration as well.

Through the afternoon, however, Jonathan was the center of attention, and not only was he (and we even more so) overwhelmed with an abundance of very generous gifts, but he was also the subject of a fun quiz show, was serenaded by little Alex singing, “He’s got the whole world in His hands,” and was featured in a back drop of a running slide presentation with accompanying background music. Also his very creative God-parents, who are long time friends and have been very engaged in both Jonathan’s and Charis’ lives since their baptism, staged a couple of gigs. Stephen performed a song on guitar, and Hella peddled a sundry of costume hats and accessories for guests to choose from for their big photo debut behind a large antique frame, thus giving Jonathan a comical documentation of every guest.

Below are pictures of the day, and HERE is an open letter from me to Jonathan and a presentation (here the extended english version) which was shown as the climax of our theme that afternoon.

We are very thankful for the presence and participation of all of our friends and family at this celebration, and are even more touched and grateful for the involvement of so many in the lives of our children! We are truly blessed.

Bowel Movement

Forgive me for moving back in time here.  When Jan came back from spending a few days with the kids at his parents this fall, and brought with him the delicious fruits of what has become a traditional father - son autumn photographic outing, I was quite touched and knew that I wanted to share more than just the pictures themselves.  But, as I confessed in my last blog entry, I let my Christmas addiction squeeze out any time for such reflections, and am just now finally allowing them to surface. 

Loading this latest batch of pictures up into iphoto, I became aware of how familiar these German countryside vignettes are:  rolling hills, each topped with their own fortress, like a cherry on a sundae; apple orchards; steep hillside vineyards and the beloved town of Beilstein, with its long history reaching deep into the Middle ages, the traces of which are slowly disappearing.  These are some of the themes of which there are countless versions in albums on our shelves dating back to long before I ever even met Jan and his family.  This is a world which father and son have captured again and again, from every corner of our four seasons, framed by an ever maturing and changing perspective, through the lens of an ever advancing instrument, first on slides, then paper and now digitally.   This is a world which a father loves and a love, which this father has passed on to his son.  Precious.

But the love that Jan’s father has for his romantic surroundings goes deeper than the hobby he shares with his son of reducing it to two dimensional images stored on our hard drive.  It is a love that is demonstrated in the various other projects that my father-in-law has engaged in over at least the last 20 years.  Some of these projects connect him to the organization Friends of the Earth (BUND für Umwelt und Naturschutz Deutschland) and have their beginnings in the mid- 80’s, when the Fischer’s Protestant church held seminars and sermons promoting Intentional living with an emphasis on Peace, Justice and Creation Protection.  With a strong urge to get practical and inspiration coming from another area in Germany (Marktdorf), Jan’s father, Klaus, and two of his acquaintances set out to preserve natural habitats for local fowl, small field animals and useful insects by giving local farmers an incentive to maintain their organic fruit orchards. 

What began as a group of about fifteen people gathering 5 tons of apples from organic orchards themselves and financing the cost of cider production for consumption within their small community, has turned into the Steinkautz label, which produces up to 350,000 liters of organic apple cider/juice per year and is sold in a variety of stores in the wider area.  There are more than a hundred organic fruit orchards scattered over an area of approximately 20 kilometer, together comprising 2-300 hektare (about 800 acres) natural habitat for some 50-60 species of birds plus hedgehogs, wasps, bees, polecat and hazel dormouse, to name just some of the creatures enjoying this natural environment.  To motivate farmers to maintain these less productive organic orchards as opposed to the low growing, chemically protected and fertilized plantations, the Steinkautz Natural Habitat project, a non-profit organization, ensures farmers a much higher price for their fruit, when they sign to follow strict organic growing policies.  They have just recently celebrated their 20th anniversary.  

Related to this project, are the regular inspections of the orchards and the nesting facilities that have been placed in the apple trees.  It is a real treat for our children, when they can accompany their grandfather on winter afternoon “house cleaning” duty!  They eagerly take turns clamoring up the ladder to inspect and sweep out the nesting houses, being careful to first check for dead eggs, which, when found, are collected like trophies.  

In the nearby hills of Prevorst, Klaus supports an amphibian protection initiative, which has erected a system of fences and tunnels to keep the frogs, toads, and salamanders (newts?) from being killed by traffic when they make their way to the ponds to lay eggs.  Jan’s father is part of a team which checks the fences, makes sure the tunnels are free of leafage, and counts the survivors from year to year to determine the success of their methods and alter their strategy as needed.

My father in law is also a history buff, as the many boxes and armoires full of historical family documents and photos substantiate.  Having saved at least three, 300 year old houses in his home town from destruction, it is a given that he is also a member of a German-wide organization for conserving historical landmarks.   But I won’t say anything more about that, because the story of Klaus’ houses is my favorite story, and it will one day get a blog entry all of its own!

But Klaus’s charity is not limited to bugs and birds and buildings.  For almost 4 years, Jan’s father has been the local coordinator for an initiative to offer affordable, practical assistance to the elderly or infirm called Citizen for Citizen.  It is a program of volunteers who are listed with specific skills or services, and whom can be called upon when needed, for example, to drive someone to the doctor, fix a sink, or just come by with some chicken soup.  The recipients pay a small fee, but nothing close to the cost on the open market.  In the Fischer’s town of Beilstein and the neighboring town, Abstadt, my father in law coordinates 60 volunteers, who meet about 800-900 service-requests per year (although this number has declined more recently).

It is always a slippery business to second guess someone else’s motives, and I don’t want to be presumptuous here.  However, through the many years I have been a part of this family, I have come to witness my husband’s father as a deeply compassionate person.  He is someone who seems to feel pain himself, when others, even the smallest creatures, suffer due to loss, illness, erosion, decay, physical discomfort or pain.  It sometimes appears that his very insides churn and tangle with turmoil at the thought of someone else’s misery.  In fact, this is exactly the meaning of one of the Greek words in the New Testament used to describe Jesus’ response to human suffering.  

Splanchna means inward parts, entrails, bowels, and is metaphorical for the seat of emotion.  When someone “splanchnizomai,” literally their entrails are churning, their bowels are moving in response to someone else’s suffering.  And usually always this churning produces some course of action meant to relieve the observed suffering.  When I reflect on my father-in-law’s acts of compassion, I can’t help but think of Paul’s declaration that all of creation is groaning and awaiting salvation...from atrophy, entropy, disunity, erosion, decay, death, alienation, abuse, neglect, exploitation and violence.  (19 The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. 20 For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope 21 that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. 22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Romans 8).  If this is the case, then it certainly couldn’t hurt if we all had more bowel-movement.

I am so thankful that my children have a grandfather who shows them by example how precious all life is, that we are connected with our environment as well as with each other, and that we each can do a small part to counter the forces of alienation, exploitation, decay and disconnection in the landscapes and communities around us.