Monday Morning Musing: Calling us All

The attention of the nation has been riveted on the fires that are devouring entire sections of Los Angeles County. We have watched as homes and histories have burned. Our daughter's neighborhood was evacuated briefly and we worried with her as she determined what to take with her in the Uber that carried her to the home of friends. In addition to her feline companion, she also took the recipe box I'd given her, filled with family recipes and her childhood favorites. This detail, somehow, made my eyes leak.

I can't quite imagine what any of this was like for, well...anyone. And it's not over - fires still burn and the work of rebuilding will continue for decades. There is political sniping and arguing, to no one's surprise. There are stories of heroism and of mutual aid and care. Those accounts offer some hope.

I have little more to offer here. In yesterday's sermon I noted that sometimes terrible things happen, without explanation. This is not one of those times. This is directly attributable to our neglect of creation, our failure to take seriously the impact of climate change. This is not a "woke" opinion, this is science. And somehow, facts have become something to argue against when they don't suit us.

We aren't even to January 20th yet. That date looms out there, just one week away. The last time our nation inaugurated this person, Bruce and I tried to do something to redeem the day - to imbue it with something that reminded us that even in the face of terrible injustices, the arc bends toward justice. We went to the African American Museum in Seattle, where we ended up meeting a woman who would become dear to us. This time, it feels different. This time he is a convicted felon. A felon. And he is a convicted rapist, as well. And this time, he is not an unknown. He has shown us exactly who he is and what he stands for and this time feels far more fraught.

In our family, we are awaiting the birth of our grandboy. We can hardly wait to meet him; he is already so loved. That anticipation helps offset some of the dread we carry for what is ahead by the time he turns 4. I hope he and his big sister know that we will do anything for them. We will change diapers and pace floors and soothe them when needed. We count caring for them as a great privilege and joy. In addition, though, we will fight for a better nation and world for them to grow up in. We will work and watch and make calls and write letters and march. We will commit ourselves to speaking bravely against evil. We will also commit ourselves to carrying light and love.

The poets often offer us words in seasons like this one. Alice Walker has done just that in "Calling All Grandmothers":

Calling All Grandmothers

We have to live

differently

or we

will die

in the same

old ways.

Therefore

I call on all Grand Mothers

everywhere

on the planet

to rise

and take your place

in the leadership

of the world

Come out

of the kitchen

out of the

fields

out of the

beauty parlors

our of the

television

Step forward

& assume

the role

for which

you were

created:

To lead humanity

to health, happiness

& sanity.

I all on

all the

Grand Mothers

of Earth

& every person

who possesses

the Grand Mother

spirit

of respect for

life

&

protection of

the young

to rise

& lead.

The life of

our species

depends

on it.

& I call on all men

of Earth

to gracefully

and

gratefully

stand aised

& let them

(let us)

do so.