Making Soup

Two days ago I started making split pea soup. It began with water, peas, ham hocks, onion and seasonings. After a long simmer, it went into the fridge. Yesterday I took the meat off the bones, skimmed fat off the broth, added carrots and celery and let it simmer for several hours. The aroma permeated the house. I like the smell even better than the taste!

My dad loved to make soup and put in everything "but the kitchen sink". Any little left-over this or that, he'd throw in. It was always delicious.

This reminded me of something I heard Mark Shields say on The News Hour the other evening:

Last week we saw a white Catholic male Republican judge murdered on his way to greet a Democratic Jewish woman member of Congress, who was his friend. Her life was saved initially by a 20-year-old Mexican-American gay college student, and eventually by a Korean American combat surgeon, and this all was eulogized by our African American President."

This country CAN be a delicious "soup", with all sorts of interesting combinations. Of course any cook knows that some flavors don't mix so well. The analogy doesn't really hold from here on. Because we Americans are already in this soup--all of us together--whether we like it or not. What kind of soup do we want it to be? Palatable, at least, I hope. I pray.

Meanwhile, I'm going to be eating pea soup for the foreseeable future. Just a little warning for those of you who might be near by!

I'm grateful for another day.

Winter reflection on compassion

It is snowing huge lovely flakes and I'm grateful I have a warm home! The other evening, after dropping a friend off at her place, I drove up Larch Street past the Volunteers of America shelter. It was bitter cold and windy. Suddenly I felt, viscerally, the reality that there are people, lots of them, with no place to sleep tonight. Not a new awareness, certainly, but a stark reminder that in this "proud" country we are content to allow millions of people to suffer, apparently because we believe it's each person for him/her self and if "they" would really try, they wouldn't be in this mess.

There's probably some truth to that. We are responsible for ourselves. At the same time, there is not one person on the face of this earth who got where they are simply on their own. We are intricately woven into the fabric of other lives--ancestors, family of origin, teachers, childhood friends, abusers, decision-makers, kind and caring others, mentors, bullies, and on and on. It is all too easy, and oh so self-satisfying, to think we "know" what makes another person tick. And the best part of judgementalism is that it distracts me from my own failings, weaknesses, mistakes, indecision, passivity. No matter how disappointed I may be in myself, there are always those others who, by comparison, are worse.

Still, every major religion encourages compassion, mercy, justice, community. How do we justify the trifling amount of private and public money that goes to care for those who need it most, be they elderly, disabled, children, whatever? We spend a god-awful fortune on defense, so sure that if we are "big" enough, no one will hurt us. No problem, folks. We're doing it to ourselves. I expect those who hate us are laughing to see our intentional trip to destruction. Sadly, how we treat "the least of these" is one of the most obvious signs.

Well, that's my first rant for 2011. I expect it's not the last. May we keep awake, aware, and compassionate in whatever ways, large and small, are presented to us.

O Holy Night!

All week I've been thinking I should write something deeply inspiring and profound in this space. And all week the profundity has not even entered the room, let alone my spirit. It is Christmas Eve, the 67th one in my short life. It is cloudy here with a little snow on the ground. Not picture postcard like, but not that bad either--no storm, milder temps.

Jesus is being born once more in hearts all over the world. It has it's good points, at least when we haven't skewed things and thus caused pain instead of peace. And though I don't feel a bunch of outer "happy-happy", I do feel the deep inner "knowing" that the Christ, that One most transcendent and most intimately within, WAS, IS and WILL BE. And that is enough.

May we all experience moments of that deep knowing and receive the Gift that God so longs to give our searching hearts.

How safe can we get?

Locked out or locked in? That is the question. This post came in part from the hoo-ha about airline safety, but the prime catalyst was a Facebook conversation in which 2 or 3 women discussed their problems with the locks on their houses--getting locked out, having umpteen keys made to be sure everyone in the neighborhood has one, so the lady won't be out in the cold when she forgets her keys or the door blows shut or whatever.

I understand. I have done the same thing several times; caught in the cold, not wearing enough clothing and locked out. Every time, I think why do I keep my doors locked all the time? What am I afraid of? What are the chances that someone will break in? Wouldn't it cause less damage if this imaginary bandit could just walk in? What difference would it make otherwise? I've lived in my house since 1976 and things have been OK. Does that mean I'm foolish enough to think it couldn't happen? Of course not. I just wonder if the odds are worth all the effort we put into satisfying our desire for security.

And if "they" are locked out, doesn't that mean "I'm" locked in, protecting my treasures from others, separating myself from the neighborhood, the community, the world? How open am I, if I lock myself up with my "stuff" all the time?

And then there's the airlines. I have no desire for myself or anyone else to be blown up. At the same time, listening to world news, it's clear that terrorists can strike anytime and anywhere. I wish there was some way to know our relative safety if we did nothing at all at the airport compared with the de-humanizing herding that goes on now. My guess is the "victory" for the terrorists is the amount of resources we are spending out of fear. It's all about fear and all it takes in case people start to feel a little safer, is another well-placed bomb--a nice little "reminder" of who has the power. That's why it's called "terror".

I don't know what the answer is, but I don't think it's more security measures. If we put as much money and human effort into education, clean water supplies, basic medical assistance, and listening to and respecting the poor and oppressed with open minds and hearts, as we do into "security", maybe we could become a great leader of nations once again.

Eric Hoffer, the wise philosopher, said that if people have to choose between chaos and order, they will always choose order, no matter how much freedom they lose. Is that where we are?

Honestly folks, there's no security! Only in the One who gives us each new day. May that One set us free!