houston kahu

Last evening I attended Jerry Fowler’s presentation at the Holocaust Museum Houston.  Jerry is the president of the Save Darfur Coalition (www.savedarfur.org).  Among the crowd packed into the small theater at the museum, I counted a dozen church members.  There were also many others I recognize from the Houston peace and justice community.  Jerry’s presentation, including a video with Darfurians telling their own stories, left me at a loss for words.  I encourage everyone to visit the website and read a few of the horror stories.  Like many involved in this movement, I believe that when we really hear the stories, we are stirred to act.  With that in mind, I have an invitation:

This weekend, we are making plans to hold our Save Darfur banner in Hermann Park before the Friday and Saturday evening performances of “The Refuge,” an oratorio produced by the Houston Grand Opera that chronicles the stories of seven different immigrants who made their ways to Houston to begin a new life.  Performances begin at 8:30 p.m. and we’re trying to display the banner from 7:00 p.m. until performance time each evening.  We need help physically holding the banner.

I’ll be the contact person Friday night, and David Ramsey has volunteered to be the point person on Saturday.  We need help holding the sign each evening.  If you can help, e-mail me at the address below, tell me which evening you are available, and we’ll make a plan.  Come raise a voice of conscience and stay for an extraordinary show.  

J 

jeremy@covenanthouston.org

Yesterday’s Washington Post had an helpful Op-Ed piece by Andrew Carroll that encouraged folks to give their stimulus checks to veterans’ groups.  I read it this morning and was pleasantly surprised.  Carroll recommends checking with The American Institute of Philanthropy, but he also names several good groups, including the Fisher House Foundation.  To read his article, paste the following link into your browser:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/05/01/AR2008050102902.html

J 

I haven’t posted much of late as I’ve been a bit under the weather, but there is one thing on my mind this week.  I’m thinking about the checks the government is sending us all in hopes of stimulating the economy.  My partner, Sara, suggested recently that we take the money that is being sent and spend it in the ways that we think the government should have spent it.  To that end, a portion of our money has already been sent to Mercy Corps, a group in Oregon that does humanitarian relief around the world, but is most focused these days on the Darfur region of Sudan and its neighbor, Chad.  So a portion of our government check will go to provide aid to the hundreds of thousands living in refugee camps.

We are currently looking for a group to whom we might give the rest of our money.  We are specifically interested in groups providing direct services to returning veterans of the Iraq War.  Our family has opposed the war since before it began (Sara and I marched in Washington in the fall of 2002), but we feel that it is everyone’s responsibility to take care of the people who have been sent to fight in that war.  I have met young veterans, conscientious objectors mostly, at Camp Casey in Crawford, Texas, at anti-war events in Houston, and even at the church when we invited two of them to speak about their experiences one Friday evening.  They have told me of their nightmares, their post-traumatic stress, their suicidal ideations, and the trouble they have had getting counseling and services from the Army (indeed, many of the objectors are dishonorably discharged, resulting in a loss of benefits).  As anti-war people, we will seek a place to give our money that cares for the psychological wounds of returning veterans.  I believe our government is neglecting them…and our family will spend its money the way we believe the government should have spent it in the first place.

I write this to invite you to do the same.  

If you are aware of a group working with and for wounded veterans, please post it.  Otherwise, I’ll add an update soon.

Peace,

J

 

Today is Earth Day and I won’t celebrate it by spending too much time at the computer.  We’ll hit the farmer’s market after work and offer our gratitude to the earth as we sort through the fruits and vegetables that the Gulf Coast has to offer this time of year.

I thought I might just post a thought on religious naturalism.  It seems a propos since this is a day to think in naturalistic terms and my own doctoral work is concerned with the philosophy and praxis of RN.  There is a clever Wikipedia entry on the subject, which I think is a very helpful introduction.  It can be found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Religious_naturalism  For those looking for a short definition, however, I’ll offer the following, from http://www.religiousnaturalism.org:

We find our sources of meaning within the natural world, where humans are understood to be emergent from and hence a part of nature. Our religious quest is informed and guided by the deepening and evolving understandings fostered by scientific inquiry. It is also informed and guided by the mindful understandings inherent in our human traditions, including art, literature, philosophy, and the religions of the world.The natural world and its emergent manifestations in human creativity and community are the focus of our immersion, wonder, and reverence. We may describe our religious sensibilities using various words that have various connotations — like the sacred, or the source, or god — but it is our common naturalistic orientation that generates our shared sense of place, gratitude, and joy.

We acknowledge as well a shared set of values and concerns pertaining to peace, justice, dignity, cultural and ecological diversity, and planetary sustainability. We may differ on how these concerns are best addressed, but we are committed to participating in their resolution.

What excites me most is the possibility that RN may offer common ground between naturalistic theists and nontheists, people of different faiths or no particular faith tradition, scientists, skeptics, poets, and children.  As an admitted religious naturalist myself, it is my hope that rooting ourselves in the natural world is the first step toward a sustainable future for us all.

J

I’m just back in the office after a weekend retreat in the pinewoods, about an hour and a half from the city.  A group of us from the church spent the days learning about John Muir, considering how to save our children from “nature deficit disorder” (see Richard Louv’s Last Child in the Woods), and breaking into small workshops that allowed our spiritual and artistic selves to express our sense of connection with the natural world.  I already have vivid memories of children pointing out a woodpecker at the base of a tree, an indigo snake coiled among the leaves, and the mist rising from the lake water in the Sunday morning chill.  It was a truly delightful weekend, and, as I prepare for Earth Sunday this week, I feel that I’ve already been communing somehow with the wild world all around me.  

The workshop I offered at our retreat was focused on Buddhism and Ecology.  In preparation for it, I wrote Robert Aitken’s “Verses for Environmental Practice” onto pieces of colored construction paper.  The members of our group read the verses and then wrote their own.  It was a way of praying that felt organic, a vow of connectedness made with the scent of pine on the breeze and the damselflies buzzing through the tall grass.  Aitken’s words have been in my head now for ten days or so.  This morning I looked at them again.  I think I will repeat them each day this week, choosing not to wait for Sunday to begin my celebration of the earth.  I close this first post with Aitken’s verses:

Waking up in the morning

   I vow with all beings

to be ready for sparks of the Dharma

from flowers or children or birds.

 

Sitting alone in zazen

   I vow with all beings

to remember I’m sitting together

with mountains, children, and bears.

 

Looking up at the sky

   I vow with all beings

to remember this infinite ceiling

in every room of my life.

 

When I stroll around in the city

   I vow with all beings

to notice how lichen and grasses

never give up in despair.

 

Watching a spider at work

   I vow with all beings

to cherish the web of the universe:

touch one point and everything moves.

 

Preparing the garden for seeds

   I vow with all beings

to nurture the soil to be fertile

each spring for the next thousand years.

 

When people praise me for something

   I vow with all beings

to return to my vegetable garden

and give credit where credit is due.

 

With tropical forests in danger

   I vow with all beings

to raise hell with the people responsible

and slash my consumption of trees.

 

With resources scarcer and scarcer

   I vow with all beings

to consider the law of proportion:

my have is another’s have-not.

 

Watching gardeners label their plants

   I vow with all beings

to practice the old horticulture

and let plants identify me.

 

Hearing the crickets at night

   I vow with all beings

to keep my practice as simple—

just over and over again.

 

Falling asleep at last

   I vow with all beings

to enjoy the dark and the silence

and rest in the vast unknown.

 

Check back soon, dear ones.  Check back soon.