In Defense of Barack's Choice

It has been a couple of weeks now since the pastorgate scandal has broken relating to Barack Obama's choice to stay in his church. The controversy arises, of course, in light of the numerous videos showing the Rev. Jeremiah Wright preaching a number of what could best be described as hate sermons against the white race and against America in general. At first I was quite outraged by Barack's refusal to stay within the church for twenty years. But then . . . I remembered my own similar history.

Many of my pastor's sermons began to be uncomfortable to me in the early 1970's when I was a young wife and mother. Our pastor often preached that the majority of the world's economic problems were caused by women entering the work force. The rhetoric continued through the latter part of the decade as well, but now the pastor (and other leaders in the conservative Christian movement) were now railing against abortion. Having been educated in a public university during the late 1960's, I believed women's rights were just as important as those for men. The final straw--almost--came for me in 1991 when our daughter confided in us that she was a lesbian. By then the new emphasis from the pulpit was, essentially, to preach hate sermons against homosexuals. Then, and now, many would say the usual mantra, "We love the sinner but hate the sin," however, untrue that statement was.

Why then did it take me years and years to leave the church that had been a vital part of my past? I would have to say it was for sentimental reasons: it was the church that fed my family the Christmas I was three when my father was absent, it was the church where I was baptized at the age of nine, it was the church where I met my husband, it was the church that gave me a special white Bible ceremony when I was engaged, it was the church in which I was married, and it was the church in which both my children were baptized. All of the central events of my life were connected to the church.

While I cannot condone Barack's choice to stay in his Chicago church, I can at least understand why he doesn't want to leave it.

Who Can Find a Virtuous Man (or Woman)?

The media have flooded us within the past couple of weeks with all kinds of news regarding extramarital affairs of politicians. It was a mere few days ago that Eliot Spitzer, Governor of New York, was caught in a prostitution ring where he had a woman transported across state lines into Washington, D.C. for sexual purposes. After Spitzer's resignation under a cloud, the Governor resigned only to be replaced by David Paterson who also quickly announced both he and his wife had been involved in several affairs themselves. For weeks now, we have been following the story of the Detroit Mayor whose text messages revealed an affair between him and a former chief of staff, yet both denied it under oath. Now word arrives that Dina McGreevey, wife of the former Governor of New Jersey, is allegedly accused of participating in a three way with her husband and another man. My question is, "Are there no faithful men and women anymore?"

Perhaps I am just old and out of step with the younger generation, but I was brought up to believe that marriage vows are important and a commitment is made at the time of the wedding for life. Of course, being the product of parents who divorced early in my life (one of the key reasons also included adultery on my father's part), I am aware that circumstances sometimes demand a break in that commitment. Real life reflects that around fifty per cent of couples divorce, but I am not sure if any statistics are available to indicate how many couples cheated on one another. I feel confident, however, that the number is very high.

Is there anything we can do as a society to teach our young people going into matrimony of the importance of sexual fidelity? As I glance around, I do not see a trend necessarily involving youth or lack of education; the trend toward infidelity cuts across all class levels. I am perplexed and bewildered and long for a solution to this unsettling trend of society.

Afraid of the Light

I have been puzzled recently by essentially the same statement from two men who were legally blind. The first is from the newly inaugurated Governor of New York, David Paterson, and the second is from a television segment featuring someone who had surgery so that he could see again. Both said, "It is not the dark that scares me but the light." At first glance, the statement seems counter-intuitive to common sense, but then perhaps, upon a closer examination, it is not.

I am thinking specifically of today's political environment. All of the Presidential candidates have pledged to the public to be open and honest. Clinton has just released her schedule while serving the country as First Lady (with her tax return to follow soon); Obama has made a speech on the need for open, frank debate on the subject of race; and McCain has continued to call himself the "straight talking man," in spite of some evidence to the contrary, most notably his failure to admit that conversation in 2000 with John Kerry about being Vice President and his most recent cover up when he mixed up the Shia with the Suna. Of course, he said, he knew the difference between the two groups after eight trips to Iraq in spite of the fact Joe Lieberman had to correct him three times in his various statements.

With the rabid obsession of our twenty-four cable networks to top each other for ratings, every bit of minutiae is pored over and analyzed repeatedly. Perhaps it would be better to be kept in the dark about some small issues; the light can indeed be blinding and annoying to the brain of the average voter.

The Weeping Women

Several of the most vivid descriptions relating to the cross of Christ concern the women who followed Him. The book of Mark, according to scholars written first of the four gospels, continually stresses the theme of abandonment of Jesus when the "going got tough." Even his most beloved disciples Peter and John were hardly to be seen as the Roman empire, with the cooperation of the Jewish officials of the day, arrested and crucified Christ. The faithful ones, according to Scripture, were the women. Yes, in the gospel of John, the author indicates, though he does not name the disciple, that John himself was there. Remember though that John had an agenda to show himself as one of the faithful ones. Why is it that the women could stand at the foot of the cross weeping and not be afraid as the male disciples were for their very lives?

One of the interpretations of the death of Christ, in addition to Christ as sacrifice for those who believe in Him, is that Jesus came to earth in order to say "no" to the domination systems of the day. These systems were economic, religious, and political. Through His death, and resurrection three days later, Jesus won the victory. Women, of course, did not have any of the powers associated with those of men. They were essentially "under the radar" as far as representing a threat to Roman rule.

Of course, women have traditionally been considered to be the emotional ones of the two sexes. Somehow it was all right for Mary Madgalene, Mary, the mother of James and Joses, and perhaps two other Marys--wife of Clopas and Jesus' own mother--to lament and mourn publicly. The lesson is that the women were the faithful ones through the cruxification and into the Sunday morning of resurrection. It is also they who arrived at the empty tomb first to discover that Jesus had risen.

The strength of women should never be underestimated when a crisis arises. The weeping women were the rocks upon which the church was built then--and still are to a large extent-- some two thousand years later.

That Familiar Old Sun

Last week I was reading the book of Ecclesiastes and noticed how the author-teacher of the verses seems to be almost disenchanted with the idea of the seasons. For him the regularity of them year after year is depressing as he ponders his place within the world and whether or not he has made a difference. For me, however, I see the seasons--especially at this time of year--as uplifting and confirming. It is wonderful to know always that spring is sure to follow winter in our lives. Metaphorically, there is no greater promise in life.

I am thinking of just two examples in our lives. The first is the long winter represented by our old house that we have been trying to sell for almost three years now. After being on the market for two six month periods and being rented for a year and one-half, we have received an offer on it. The offer came not from the diligent work of a realtor but from a remembered conversation of the past. We are cautiously optimistic but realize, with the market down from 30 to 40 per cent in this area, there is still summer to enter into likely before the offer closes.

A second example, of course, is that of our lives in general. As we age and as our lives move toward the finality that lies ahead of us, we begin to think more and more of the idea of resurrection. As with Jesus, whose death and resurrection we commemorate this Easter week, we are confident as Christians that an emerging eternal spring will follow winter.

Therefore, I would have to disagree with Solomon, seen by most biblical scholars as the author of the book of Ecclesiastes: the seasons bring us hope, joy, grace, and mercy in their regularity.

When All the World Is Purple

After two small snows this past week in central Arkansas, I am finally ready to see spring arrive on March 20. Yesterday my husband and I drove down to a little town just east of North Little Rock to have lunch with a group of friends at a rural home in Scott. We noticed some early signs of the upcoming season, most notably many yards filled with the ground covering that we call purple flox. This sight, in combination with a short story by Alice Dark I read last week, made me think of our transitory lives, especially in families.

Dark's story was published in The New Yorker in 1994 and is entitled "In the Gloaming." I believe it is one of the finest stories ever written. The story centers on the relationships in a family confronting the upcoming death of their adult son. Dark defines her title by indicating that "the gloaming" is that time of day when the sun is setting, dusk arrives, but darkness is kept at bay a while longer. The mother Janet and her son begin to communicate, after many years of near silence, during this time of "purple sky" on the horizon. The father in the family, unfortunately, cannot confront the reality of his son's impending death and simply carries on his workaholic life as usual.

The themes of the story, though multilevel, center on communication and honesty within families, the idea of bravery when death comes, a central Christ figure who brings about reconciliation between husband and wife, and a child's lack of acceptance by parents based upon the child's choices. The reader is reminded of an essential mandate of our lives, and that is to listen to one another and to love one another unconditionally. The time is short for all of us in this life to do so. At best we have just a glimple of the purple horizon.

"Who's Your Other Mama?"

We always knew the questions would inevitably come from our two-and-three-quarter old grandson about his family. We have waited so long for him to begin to speak in sentences, and now we are delighted that he is not only speaking using nouns, verbs, and the usual parts of speech but also showing evidence of his thinking abilities. One recent night, as our daughter and he were having their usual bedtime conversation, he asked his mother "Who's your other mama?"

Now the question may seem unusual to some of us, but to him, it is a perfectly natural one. You see Cole is in the position of having two mamas, two daddies, two grandmothers, and one grandfather. In this modern age, it seems that many children have multiple parents and grandparents either because of divorce and remarriage or because of gay and lesbian parents sharing the responsibility of child rearing.

In my day and age, as we old ones tend to introduce our memories, I was quite the exception to be a child in a divorced family. I will always remember my mother's startled reaction after a sixth grade Mother's Day presentation when my teacher said she was surprised that I was so "normal" since my parents did not live together. Again, we have come a long way since then as the cliche goes.

Our grandson is blessed to live in a city that is accepting of non-traditional families. There are many more older mothers since they have chosen to postpone having children until their careers are well-established. There are many children from rainbow families such as Cole's. There are many children also being cared for by their often very young nannies. Here in the deep South, however, people still stare at non-traditional families since we are known here to have babies while we are often in our late teens or early twenties.

Just as our nation is changing in its attitudes relating to race and gender, it is good to mark progress toward accepting other families' choices as well. Now we are waiting on Cole to ask his dads the same question, "Who's your other dada?"

"I just hate to ask them."

As I typically do on a Sunday evening, I turned on Sixty Minutes. One of the stories concerned a group of volunteers called RAM (Remote Area Medical). I was fascinated with the idea of a traveling medical facility providing all kinds of care for individuals unable to afford their own doctors' fees. This care included eye, dental, and regular medical services. Once more, as Americans, we are reminded of the high cost of medical care for those least able to pay it.

Many of these people who were interviewed were not what are typically called "the freeloaders" of our society, but they were hardworking people who had regular jobs. One was a truck driver, his wife, and his daughter who had driven two hundred miles, arriving at the mobile medical facility in the middle of the night. He and his family had brought snacks and blankets and slept in the car in order to get an early number for admission into the facility. He said he had been suffering for months with an infected tooth but simply had no other choice other than to endure it. His wife and daughter had other medical needs.

Another woman was on Social Security Disability but needed new glasses to be able to see. Eye care was not provided by her insurance. When she finally got into the building to see a doctor, she was told that area had just closed. She said, "The Lord will provide; the Lord will provide." When the interviewer told her He would not provide today, she replied, "Not today, but He will provide." She then went on to say, as she cried, that she had a good church to which she belonged but, "I just hate to ask them."

We come back to the question that has dogged us for years, and that is, "How much should the government provide for those in poverty, and how much should charitable organizations provide?" Many would say the choice might come down to the Presidential vote in November. Democrats have traditionally supported government entitlements while Republicans have supported the idea of charitable help more. Another consideration, obviously, is the recession we have no doubt entered into. Will we need some type of large program such as Franklin D. Roosevelt's in the 1930's?

Regardless of the choices made by the new President and his or her cabinet, all of us reasonably expect medical care to be available to all. How can we expect to live and pursue happiness, as our Declaration promises us, without it?