A Confessional and Aspirational Farewell to 2016

Haven’t blogged in quite a while.  

So much going on, so little “extra” time… 

and perhaps, I haven’t really figured anything out worth sharing.   But as the year comes to a close, I figure I should say something.

Apparently, 2016 sucked.  

A lot of bad things happened.  

Yes, they did.  

But, and this is not an blanket endorsement of the Federal Government, the politics of hope and possibility still stand above the politics of fear and division in our country.  I am disappointed in our Federal Government for a number of things done and NOT done, but in a democracy I expect to be disappointed  (if I got everything that I wanted, that would likely be a dictatorship.  Run by me.  And I don’t have time to blog, let alone run a country).     So, I will be glad that the Government has admitted many mistakes (rather than deny them); I will be glad that we have an inquiry into murdered and missing indigenous women, we have and continue to welcome refugees and have begun some measures that will have a positive effect on our negative environmental impact.

2016 was terrible, but I am glad to hear the emerging voice of Black Lives Matter and the impact that they are having on public awareness and policy.

2016 was lousy, but I give thanks for the Water Protectors in North Dakota; their passion, resolve and a measure of victory (I don’t imagine that this is over, yet).   Non violent protests made a difference in South Korea – actually led to the impeachment of a president.  Non-violent!

The ozone layer is repairing. 
The tiger population is on the rise. 

There is peace in Colombia.

I got perform in a concert with my son and didn’t embarrass him. 
All three of my sons are excelling in the lives that they have chosen; I often find myself marveling at the great choices that they are making and I see real joy in their lives.    

Yeah, it was a lousy year, but I started a new ministry partnership with a minister who exhibits such grace and imagination, devotion and knowledge, imagination and insight that I feel like I’m just starting in ministry myself, rather than celebrating 25 years since my ordination.

It was hard year on all of those who lost loved ones, found their own abilities diminished and opportunities restricted.  According to the media, a lot of celebrities died in 2016, but so too, did mothers and fathers, children and best friends… partners and anchors.  And in the midst and wake of such loss, I have seen people shine.  I have seen love poured out to fill the spaces emptied by grief.  I have seen faith shaken and restored, rebuilt stronger and even made available to share and support others.  I have seen such light shine in the darkness, that I have had to avert my eyes.

As cultural icons have left us, I see the invitation for us to start writing our own songs, telling our own stories and shaping a future as inspiring as the past.  Culture is not meant to be a museum, new things have to be created, supported and celebrated.  I suspect that David Bowie has made me lazy and complacent, rather than just be satisfied playing my old vinyl, it might be time for Siggy Normdust.

Of course, through all of this I have ignored the elephant in the room. 
The great big red and blue elephant that escaped from the Republican Circus and hoodwinked a nation:   Donald Trump.  

I am not a fan.  

In the interest of full disclosure, I was not a fan of Hillary Clinton.  I found HRC to be too often dismissive of those upon whose support she relies; she is too much of a "hawk" for me to fully support. Having said that,  I would have voted for her repeatedly over Mr. Trump (if the Russians would have allowed it).    I also believe that had the DNC not been so duplicitous and manipulative with the Bernie Sanders campaign, he would have probably lost to Hillary, but his supporters would have stayed with her and swung the election.  Of course, I am also the same guy who bet friends that Donald Trump wouldn’t survive the February primaries.   So what do I know?

I know this: I learned a lot from Donald Trump. 
Watching and listening to Donald Trump, I became aware of how my humour, my tolerance and my language have contributed to a “rape culture” that appalls me. 
Seeing Trump’s bombastic example  has made me aware of my own, more subtle, contributions to an oppressive, sexist reality.   Watching him debate Hillary Clinton, I became aware of how I use my body mass to sway an argument or dominate an adversary, effectively bullying my opponent.  I honestly didn’t see it before… I recognize the language that I use that can 

But my learning is greater than that:  The election of Donald Trump has affected me at a fundamental level. I have watched a man, with very little substance, lie to the world and be rewarded for it. I have watched a bully win... even though all of the stories that shaped my youth assured me that bullies lose in the end.  Every western, every action movie, every detective story that I have read throughout my life, assured me that in the last chapter; in the final reel, Trump would lose.  Billy Jack might go to jail, but the bad guys would always lose!   It was so obvious that Trump had to lose… But he didn’t.  And this is devastating to me at an almost spiritual level.  (I am still hoping that Bruce Lee will defeat Trump in a hall of mirrors just before the inauguration). 

In my privilege, the historical narrative has always offered me a win.  I have had the comfort of trusting in institutions:  All police officers are my friends; doctors will always do what’s best for me; the Government will protect my interests… officials will always be reasonable and once they recognize the reality of my situation (whatever it may be) they will assist me.   

The election of Donald Trump, has brought all of that crashing to the earth. 

I can’t trust the institutions that shape my life.  For me, in my privilege, this puts everything at risk: Maybe my mother doesn't really love me... maybe chocolate doesn't really taste good... it's possible that a little dab won't do me. 

For the first time in my life, I begin to understand what my brothers and sisters have been talking about so passionately.   A great many of my friends have NEVER felt that institutions were on their side; they’ve had no reason to trust the police, or the government… they’ve never felt respected or supported by the “powers that be”.   I have sympathized and understood intellectually with what women have told me about their experiences; I have appreciated and nodded with understanding when racialized friends have told me about injustice – I have responded in supportive ways, but never really got it at a gut level.  I have always been able to believe that if we fixed this bit of corruption or accepted this small compromise, it would work out – because I trust the institutions my ancestors built and that I support.   

But that’s not reality for most people…   

  and I am beginning to come to grips with that.  

Right now, it’s still a kind of numbed shock… but I can fill the gnawing inside me; the unrest.  It’s kind of like hunger or quiet rage.  It puts you on edge and makes many social or official encounters a competition where you have to push to win and always watch your back.  Holy shit… how have people lived like this for so long?  To my brothers and sisters who have lived this way for most, if not all, of their lives... I am in awe of your strength and humbled by your patience and tolerance. 

So, I suppose that I am grateful for the election of Donald Trump, because it and he have certainly made me far more aware of the breadth and depth of my own privilege; the reality of living in the 21^st century like a “normal” person.  It has awakened in me an urgency and a need to support others in my life.  When I talk about support, I'm not talking about providing solutions - I'm talking about listening and following; doing the things that are directed by and of value to those who are asking for my support.  They don't need my solutions - but they can sure use my trust, strength and hope.  

The American election, Brexit and the empowering of racist voices and sentiment in my own community, has also made me aware of my need for Grace and the persuasive love of God.  In my privilege and arrogance, I kind of thought that I could (or we could) figure this all out by ourselves:   We just need to make better choices.  Today,  I am more convinced than ever that I (we) need the persuasive love that bends the arc of the universe toward justice to be active in our lives and decisions.  I, personally, need more than holy teachings,  I need a sense of presence as I stumble forward into 2017  - ready to write new songs, tell new stories, shape my life and the life of my community.   My faith assures me that I will not be left bereft…  and  in that promise,  I have hope.  Real hope.   Because I am aware and awake… I am less complacent and arrogant… and most importantly, I am not alone.

2016 may not have been a good year for many, but it has served a purpose for me… so now, let’s get on with 2017 with a little more daring, a lot more loving, a fearless hope and the knowledge that we are not alone.   Together, we will make a difference... alone, we'll mostly post on Facebook. (not that there's anything wrong with posting on Facebook).  

Living in a world gone mad

For the moment, we’ll pretend that it hasn’t been over 7 months since I last wrote.  

Join the ranks of my parents, friends and earliest sweethearts to whom I have often provided the gift of opportunities for forgiveness.   Perhaps, in a later missive, I will explain myself.

For now… let us thank Donald Trump for motivating this current phillipic. 

 (we’ll wait while you google it…)  

Actually, I’m being somewhat misleading.  1.  This blog will not be particularly “fiery”.  

2.  There is NOTHING for which to thank Donald Trump.  

Ever. 

And Ever. (Amen).  

But he has got me thinking.  

What does one do when one discovers that he/she is living in a Reality Television show?  Because that’s how I feel as I watch the surrealist theatre and listen to the rhetoric of the Presidential Primaries in the U.S.    Can I simply swear at Gordon Ramsay and turn in my apron? Refuse to shower and get voted off Big Brother?  Is there any way that I can beg the Tribe to speak or simply dance away from the stars?

It seems not. 

This show will not turn off - like “Two Broke Girls” or “Saved by the Bell” no matter how poor the writing, acting or embarrassing the situations, it’s always on!

Living in a world where public figures re-write history on a whim (Donald Trump’s business acumen; Hillary Clinton’s lionizing of Nancy Reagan and her support for people with Aids; when Bewitched brought in a new Darren) I find myself wondering what to do when the nuts are in charge.  How does one live in the midst of evil, stupidity or just plain wrong-headedness?   I respect democracy and I have bought into the idea that the majority have the right to determine their shared future – but how does one live quietly in the midst of those who have been fooled or hoodwinked; lack the capacity or information to make an informed and just decision?  

Do I just grin and go along with it?

As teenagers, sitting in school cafeterias or basement recrooms we would often profess that, had we the ability to time travel, the first that thing that we would do is go back and assassinate Hitler before his rise to power.  We knew most assuredly that the best way to deal with evil was to kill it before it could spread.  However, with commitments to life, justice, the rule of law and the priority of democracy, I have to confess that I would be unlikely to assassinate anyone.  

(I had always believed that there we only two assassination attempts on Hitler, but having recently been informed that there were as many as 47, I’m beginning to wonder if some or my teen age friends haven’t figured out how to time travel and are simply bad a assassination) 

Of course, I could just bitch, moan and post constantly on Facebook how funny, stupid, useless or disappointing everything is.  But, much like my plans to assassinate Hitler, I would like leave my teenage attitudes and practices behind me.  

(Seriously… how ‘bout we give the new Prime Minister a little more than 6 months to fix everything that needs fixing and stop blaming him for looking good in a suit?)

So, what am I supposed to do?

I’ve ruled out assassination.

I’m trying to let go of whining.

I don’t want to live angry.

I’m not moving to Iceland.

French’s Ketchup aside, I’m not convinced that yelling and screaming at the Parliament Buildings, a Trump Rally or Loblaws is really going to affect much change in me or in the world.  But I can’t do nothing, can I?

This Sunday, the Sunday before Easter, most churches will be commemorating the Palm Sunday parade of Jesus.  And thinking about it, has inspired me and will help to inform how I will live in a Trump World… and you may live in a Trudeau world…. How we can live together in a world where we may not be entirely “at home” living with idiots. 

Historically, it is likely that Jesus' little parade happened on the day of or very close to the time of larger parades.  Parades that celebrated the Roman Empire; a least one parade that would have been notable for horses, chariots, loud noises, big crowds and raucous cheers in the name of Rome.  A reason for celebration, but also a reminder to the local folks as to who was in charge, and how they would deal with unrest and disobedience.  It’s all cheers and balloons, unless you step out of line and then these same horses, chariots and soldiers could be turned on you.  

Having been born and raised in Southern Ontario, I’ve never been to parade that frightened me or carried any undertones of violence in my mind – but go to the Airshow with some Refugees some time and you may see a very different reaction to the spectacle of military jets flying overhead in formation.

In the face of this militaristic, double speak world of violence and Empire, Jesus cannot remain silent.  However, he does not go to the parade and throw tomatoes… he does not scream “Fascist” and speculate as to the size of Pilate’s penis (thank you Republican Presidential hopefuls for raising the bar so high…)  He simply lives and presents an alternative.   He puts on another parade at the other end of the city… one with a donkey (or two) and people throwing clothes and waving palms.  There are no clowns, no banners,  no horses, no chariots or soldiers; there is no military or commercial might on display whatsoever.., instead, a parade of people cheering and crying out “Hosanna”.  An alternative to Empire; an appeal to God and peace, hope and love… a simple act that doesn’t dazzle or manipulate, but provides another way.  Kind of like the first the best of Pride Parades. 

images may appear whiter than likely... or even, possible.

I think that this will be my best way forward should I find myself a minority awash in a sea of idiots… or a morally responsible person in the midst of a world gone mad.  I will live and demonstrate an alternative to corrupt privilege of those who rule. I work diligently at loving the stranger, opening my hands and heart to those in need, I will seek peace rather than victory, I will pray rather than deride, I will keep doing what it right and trust God… and I will have a parade - many parades! I will make visible my choices, so that others may be inspired to come out of the shadows and live authentically, even if it is not endorsed by the majority;  I will live and parade in loving opposition to the “common sense” choices of the masses.   And maybe, just maybe… someone will recognize that “Hosanna” actually means “save us”… and our daring to hold true to what is just and loving will eventually be enough to change "common sense" and save us all.

Or we all move to Iceland. http://www.iceland.is/