LINKS:
QUOTES: Martin Luther King
I HAVE A DREAM SPEECH AND VIDEO
WE SHALL OVERCOME: Historic places of the Civil Rights Movement
ROBERT GRAETZ’S BOOK: A White Preacher’s Message on Race and Reconcilliation

Years ago, I sat in Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, Montgomery Alabama and watched a young service woman speaking with an elderly gentleman in the front pew: One was white; the other was black. Fifty-five years ago that encounter most likely would not have taken place. I imagined the space filled with voices of Martin Luther King Jr. and crowds gathered in prayer supporting the Montgomery bus boycott.

It began with Jo Ann Robinson, head of the Women’s Political Council, who along with other women mimeographed thousands of flyers asking Montgomery Blacks to boycott buses on the day Rosa Park’s case was heard in court. The boycott’s success encouraged the black community, and the following day many gathered in Dexter Avenue Church, formed the Montgomery Improvement Association, and spurred on by its newly elected leader, Martin Luther King, Jr., called for a citywide bus boycott.

When we visited the museum at Dexter Ave. Baptist Church and watched historic newscasts, my young adult children expressed horror at scenes of protesters being attacked by dogs and thrown to the ground by water blasts from fire hoses. For many adults today, the early Civil Rights movement in this country is ancient history.

That reality prompted me to invite Rev. Robert and Jeannie Graetz to speak in my adult Even Start Class. He had accepted his first assignment as a Lutheran minister in Montgomery Alabama the same year Martin Luther King Jr. became pastor at Dexter Ave. The only white minister to publicly and actively support the bus boycott along with Jeannie, his family’s home were fire bombed and his life threatened. Their neighbor, Rosa Parks, helped clean up the mess left by the bombs and took a neighborhood collection to replace tableware smashed in the attack.
His stories of life in the South in the 60’s, MLK’s leadership, and the black community’s courage impressed the students. His call to address not only racism, alive and well in this country, but also other areas of discrimination spoke to their experience. Many lived in poverty and suffered abuse.
“Respect All Cultures Equally” is the phrase Bob and Jeannie use whenever they address a group. In addition to racism, issues that demand our attention and activity include equal rights for transsexuals and homosexuals, protection and services for ethnic minorities, and recognition of systemic discrimination against the poor in our country.
PHOTOS OF GRAETZS: MARY VAN BALEN

Everyone may be entitled to an education, but the quality of that education is determined in large part by pocketbook. People don’t flock to inner cities for outstanding schools; pricey suburbs tout top-notch education.

Did you know that in most cities in our country a person can be refused housing or be fired from a job because they are transsexuals? How many people know what “transsexual” is? Not many, yet fear of the “other” fuels discrimination and violence against them.

Martin Luther King’s work to end racism in the United States not completed. We must carry it on while extending our quest for justice to include other groups as well, both within our borders and beyond them.

Faith was the root of Dr. King’s vision and courage and that courage and that of those who walked with him, challenging bigotry and its ugly manifestations in this country. One way to honor them is to ask God’s help in seeing all as our sisters and brothers. God can replace fear with love, for as King said, “At the center of non-violence stands the principle of love.”

He challenges us with these words: “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’” What ARE we doing? We might contact Senators and Congress-people about the shame of millions of Americans without health care and insist they pass a reform bill. We might volunteer at an afterschool center that attempts to close the huge educational and experience gap between the rich and the poor.

We might change our lifestyles, consuming less and respecting resources, and seeking justice in their global distribution. The earthquake in Haiti has refocused attention on abject poverty in our world.

As he talked about the “new” issues to be addressed, Bob Graetz liked to quote King: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

Take time today to celebrate Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday not just by sleeping in or going shopping. Reflect on his words, examine your heart, and live to make a difference.

The news and images coming out of Haiti are devastating. How does a country,even with the help of nations around the world, cope with a natural disaster of this magnitude? Once aid arrives – food, water, medicine, personnel – how will it reach those who need it when Haiti’s infrastructure, poor to begin with, is buried and tangled with rubble?

How do organizations and people charged with coordinating rescue and aid efforts put one foot in front of the other when chaos surrounds them? Where do they start? Do they work like Mother Teresa did, going out and picking up one dying person among hundreds of others?

This earthquake and its human toll focuses attention again on true poverty in our world, forcing those in wealthy countries to look at the uncomfortable truth of injustice and poverty that is easy to ignore most of the time. Our personal concerns pale in comparison to those of the people of Port au Prince tonight.

In Haiti, dead pile up in morgues and along the streets. Many survivors are afraid to go into homes and buildings left standing, fearing they, too, might collapse when aftershocks hit. Dazed,people wander the streets with no place to go. How do they cope in this country, poorest in the Western Hemisphere, and least equipped to handle this catastrophe? How does hope survive?

At times like these, when victims and those who seek to help both are overwhelmed, can we remember that God walks with us? Or believe that God exists? Even in the midst of unspeakable suffering some in Port au Prince must. In an AP article (Jan 14), correspondent Jonathan Katz writes of song rising from those huddled together as night falls. Their prayer is an unexpected one, like Job’s from the dung heap: “Beni Swa Leternel.” “Blessed be the Lord.”

Many organizations are accepting monetary donations. Click here to make donation: Catholic Relief Services

PHOTO: MARY VAN BALEN -MOON,VENUS, JUPITER OVER COLLEGEVILLE INSTITUTE

After writing about the Kepler Mission, I remembered an article my Trappist friend, Fr. Maurice Flood, sent to me years ago. It was from the July 1994 issue of Sky & Telescope and told the story of Trappist sisters at Santa Rita Abbey in Arizona who shared the love of contemplating the night sky. One in particular, Sr. Sherly Chen, a graduate of Yale, shared her thoughts with author David H. Levy.

Levy was struck by the connections between science and religion as he listened to the sisters, experienced their prayer, and gazed with them at the clear night sky. I remembered that Chen had shared a poem she had written after considering the distance starlight had to travel to be seen by her that night. I found the article and poem in my old office:

Light

which left the Pleiades
2,000 years ago
arrived just when
a Mayan’s eye
peered upwards
through the stone shaft
of the Temple of the Jaguar Sun.

Other rays

began their earthward Journey
before I even existed
to meet my eye
in the expanse of desert sky
after Vigils.

Grace

sets out from God
before I need it
rushes light-years toward me
meets me at the very moment I fall.

When it arrives
I am there.

PHOTO: NASA – KEPLER FIELD OF VIEW

Last Thursday I noticed a news release about NASA’s Kepler Mission that is searching a small part of our galaxy to locate planets orbiting its star in a “habitable zone,” planets that could be capable of supporting life. We are looking for extraterrestrials.

As one who has long hoped that intelligent life exists on other planets and that connection with ET’s would happen in my lifetime, the article was intriguing. I am a Star Trek fan and enjoy watching science fiction movies and reading books that deal with “encounters of the third kind.” For reasons unknown, I imagine ET’s as peaceful, intelligent creatures who would have something to teach our warring, violent race.

Such images have been fed not only by movies, but also by a couple of my favorite authors: Madeleine L’Engle and C. S. Lewis. In L’Engle’s groundbreaking novel, “A Wrinkle in Time,” Charles Wallace and Meg Murray and their friend Calvin rescued Mr. Murray from a horrible planet, Camazotz, and traveled to different planets by “tessering” or moving along wrinkles in the time/space continuum.

Once, Meg, Calvin, and Mr. Murray found themselves on a strange planet where the inhabitants were beasts covered with soft fur and who had long tentacles instead of eyes or a mouth. Despite their differences, the earthlings and beasts were able to communicate. The beasts healed Meg who arrived frozen from her travel and revealed that they, too, were fighting the blackness that was in control of Camazotz and threatened the universe. I loved reading that chapter out loud to my fourth grade students, and we fell in love with the beats who had no eyes but who knew more than their human guests with the sense of sight.

The Narnia Chronicles, a seven volume fantasy written in the 1950’s by C. S. Lewis, features four English children, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy who wander into the world of Narnia through the back of an old wardrobe fashioned from wood of a magic tree. Aslan the lion is the central character in all seven volumes, the creator and ruler of Narnia, a divine presence.

In “The Magician’s Nephew,” still pools in the “wood between the worlds” are portals through which characters are transported to different worlds. As I read and re-read this book, images of meeting creatures from places utterly foreign to my own played in my mind.

At the end of “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader,” when Aslan tells Lucy and Edmund they are too old to return to Narnia and must become more involved in their own world, Lucy cries at the thought of not being with Aslan again: “It isn’t Narnia, you know,” sobbed Lucy. “It’s you. We shan’t meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?”

“But you shall meet me, dear one,” said Aslan.

“Are — are you there too, Sir?” said Edmund.

“I am,” said Aslan. “But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name.”

“How many names does God have?” I wonder while contemplating the thought that somewhere in the universe, other creatures have been made to have a relationship with the Holy One, the Creator, the One we cannot limit by our imaginations. The One whose love is so great that it cannot be poured out only to human beings, but could well fashion others to share in the joy of receiving the infinite desire of God to give God’s self away.

How could such a belief or hope threaten faith? The news release, written Jan 7, 2010 by Seth Borenstein of the Associated Press, mentioned Rev. Jose Funes, the Jesuit director of the Vatican Observatory, commenting on the annual American Astronomical Society conference last week: “These are big questions that reflect upon the meaning of the human race in the universe.”

In a May 14, 2008 interview published in L’OSSERVATORE ROMANO, responding to a question about whether belief in extraterrestrials would create problem for faith, Funes said, “I believe no. As a multiplicity of creatures exist on earth, so there could be other beings, also intelligent, created by God. This does not contrast with our faith because we cannot put limits on the creative freedom of God. To say it with Saint Francis, if we consider earthly creatures as “brother” and “sister,” why cannot we also speak of an “extraterrestrial brother?” It would therefore be a part of creation.”

I am in good company and wish the Kepler Mission Godspeed and good luck!

PHOTO: NASA – April 16, 2009, STAR CLUSTER NGC 6791 FROM KEPLER FIRST LIGHT IMAGE

PHOTO: http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1276/868518932_b245596a7c.jpg?v=0

The story out of New York City this week about new clothing purposely ruined and dumped into the trash behind major retailers H&M and WalMart would be disturbing at any time, but coming so close to Christmas, the season of giving, and in the middle of a frigid winter makes it all the more upsetting. Graduate student,Cynthia Magnus, found bags of new clothes purposely slashed and made unwearable behind both H&M and WalMart earlier this week.

I am not the only blogger or journalist to express outrage, but the deeper reality is even more upsetting: These are not isolated events; they are not new; they are not limited to clothing stores.

Venting my distress to a friend elicited this story: “Oh, I used to work at a discount store in Kentucky, one of those that sold lots of things for just a dollar. I was told to destroy all kinds of things. If dishes didn’t sell, I had to break them. I shredded curtains, and cut up clothes. We were watched, and if we didn’t do it, we would have been fired. On days when we knew no one from the company would be watching, we just threw things out without destroying them. But we had to be careful. One day, a man came in. He was freezing. He had no coat or anything. I used my discount and bought him a coat and gloves and a hat. I wasn’t supposed to do that, but I couldn’t let him go out with nothing.”

She went on: “They just claimed it as a loss. I don’t know why they couldn’t have donated it somewhere so people could use it. They could have taken that off for charity.”

I shook my head. I am sure this happens everywhere, everyday. The discarded clothes end up in landfills instead of on someone’s back. The companies’ intention to claim a loss reminded me of another incident when corporate greed won out over compassion and care for others.

A young graduate student was soon to fly to Europe for study. She had purchased an airline ticket to see her mother before leaving for a year. Two days before the flight to see her mother, her beloved grandmother died. The student bought a plane ticket and attended the funeral. Then, she attempted to change the date on her previously purchased ticket to see her mother for a shortened visit before she left for the year.

“Impossible.” “No. If you can wait a few weeks you can apply to fare to another ticket.” In three weeks she would be in Germany. No one at the airlines, no matter how far up the line of command she went, would allow her to use the ticket and change the date, even if she paid a late fee. In desperation she said to a manager, “Wouldn’t you rather sell the seat at a lower price than fly with it empty?”

The man almost laughed. “Oh, we won’t have to pay for it. We just claim it as a loss at full price. It won’t hurt us.”

True, destroying clothing and throwing it away a block or two away from a homeless in the middle of one of New York’s coldest winters seems more callous and immoral that refusing to let a student pay a fee to reschedule a flight that was unusable because of grandmother’s funeral. Still, some thing is the same: Greed. Making the most for the company with no regard for justice or moral responsibility.

These are the realities that come to mind when I hear someone suggest that we should allow businesses to regulate themselves when it comes to pollution or fair wages. This is what I think of when someone suggests that we give health insurance companies the benefit of the doubt and give them the chance to “do the right thing,” as if they haven’t had that chance for years.

The bottom line speaks the loudest, and that dirty laundry was hung out for everyone to see this week in a shameful discovery by a student.

IMAGE: ADORATION OF THE MAGI by Giotto

One Epiphany long ago my mother smiled when I asked her, “Where’s the other Wise Guy?” and replied that he had been lost during our recent move. As I played with the camels, sheep and two mysterious “kings,” I hoped the third one had found a new home, someplace warm to spend Christmas. Imagine, following a star to find baby Jesus, a baby whose birth was acknowledged by the forces in the far flung universe.

Later, I learned that Matthew’s gospel (the only one that mentions the magi) was short on details and what I learned as a child was as much legend as anything else. No Matter. Three astrologers searching through Hebrew Scriptures looking for an explanation for an amazing cosmological event still captures my imagination. Even the Pope today used them as an metaphor for the compatibility of science and faith.

The Epiphany is celebrated in Christian churches as the first time Jesus was revealed to the wide world beyond Bethlehem and Judaism. The wise men represent all the rest of humanity at the manger, foreshadowing the reality that took the disciples and perhaps even Jesus some time to figure out: God’s love is for all people. We are all children of the Most High.

Today, as I drove to the doctor’s office for a check-up, I paid particular attention to people who were out on the cold, snowy morning: A father at a bus stop, a modern shepherd with his flock of four children, one in a stroller, carefully bundled against the wind; a man wearing a black stocking cap pulled low over his ears, his hands shoved into his pockets to stay warm; a young woman munching an apple for breakfast, a backpack slung over her shoulder, waiting for a ride to campus; people driving cars I passed or that passed by me on the freeway.

I tried to look with wise men’s eyes, seeing God’s beloved braving the elements to be about the work of their daily lives. “Each one,” I told myself, “holds some bit of God in their hearts.” Like the wise men, I should honor them, for who they are, for the Divinity that enlivens them from within.I should offer my gifts, as simple as they are, joining in the effort to bring the world a little closer to the Kingdom ushered in by a baby.

“Where’s the other Wise Guy?” She is here. He is each one of us.

A new semester is about to begin, but I will not be teaching this time around. Instead, I am joining a host of other Americans looking for full time employment. As much as I enjoy teaching theology as an adjunct instructor, I cannot give the time and attention required for large classes while searching for a job that comes with benefits. Perhaps the opportunity to return to the university classroom will come again. Meanwhile, I am searching the Internet for openings and filling out applications.

This exercise requires me to revisit my educational background and employment history time after time. I imagine the application of a once stay-at-home mom who worked at a variety of part time jobs while keeping the home-fires burning looks different from those filled out by career people who have lost their jobs to downsizing and the poor economy.
When my children were younger, I created positions that enabled me to use my gifts and education to bring in some extra money while being home when my daughters were: I worked in schools an enrichment teacher and summers in a program for elementary students run by a local college branch. Later I worked as an adult educator in grant-funded jobs that served the poor and marginalized populations.

While working at those jobs and being the primary parent at home, I managed to write and publish four books and numerous magazine articles as well as to maintain a monthly column for over twenty years. I gave retreats and did some public speaking, but now, thirty-some years later; I can no longer afford positions that count on the employee not being the primary economic support. I suppose those who can teach as adjuncts or in GED/ABLE programs all have other jobs or a spouse that brings home the benefits.

Each time I read through my CV, the variety of jobs and accomplishments surprise me. I packed a lot into the past thirty years. I hope not too much, or too wide a variety to attract a future employer. I don’t have ten or twelve years in any one place except my home.

I am also filling out applications for graduate school. While working with abused women, I knew they needed more than academic instruction that would enable them to earn a GED and maybe find a job. Many needed counseling that could help them heal and regain self-esteem and confidence. The autumn may find me entering a university not as an instructor, but as a student in a social work program that would prepare me to offer such counseling.

During this process, I have discovered that my many and varied experiences have prepared me well to face an unknown future. Raising children helps one become flexible. Any parent can tell you that what you expect to happen often doesn’t and you need to be able to change plans at a moment’s notice. When disappointment shows its face or illness derails schedules, the parent (Still often the mother) supports and reschedules.

I have learned trust. Not only from times when challenges that seemed insurmountable faded into the past, but also when jobs I loved disappeared along with the funding that made them possible. Trust that something else would turn up finally enabled me to let go of worry and sleep when I could not imagine what the next job might be.

I have also learned openness. A teaching certificate does not necessarily mean a classroom position, but it can help snag an opportunity that results from creative thinking and awareness not so much of what is but rather of what could be.

I don’t know what I will be doing in a few months, but whatever it is, I am confident it will be interesting, demanding, service oriented, and likely, not what I expect!

Many people seem eager to say goodbye to the holidays. Christmas trees that went up the day after Thanksgiving were taken down December 26. Candy canes and decorations are piled into shopping carts with “75% OFF” signs taped to them, and Valentine’s Day goodies have taken their places on store shelves.

Having grown up in a house that saw neither tree nor candle before Christmas morning (Santa brought it all), I am not ready for business as usual. Christmas lasts twelve days, and I have three left. Christmas is a holiday to savor. Madeleine L’Engle called the incarnation the “Glorious Impossible,” and so it is.

One day is hardly enough to celebrate God’s coming to tell us that we are the desire of the Divine Heart and Love is the way in. Jesus showed us that even death would not stand in the way of Infinite Love. So, I am still singing along with Christmas carols as I drive, writing holiday greetings, and baking cookies.

I celebrated 2010’s arrival with my brother and sister-in-law and two of their friends. Tom had built an amazing snow squirrel in their backyard, a truly unique sight! We laughed, ate homemade pizza and salad, and watched a movie in the living room lit by Christmas tree glow.

Simple things: Sharing tea and conversation with friends; dinner with my daughters; enjoying wine and playing family games. Walking in snow. Wrapping up those I love with a warm embrace. Ordinary joys become more delicious when I take time to recognize the wonder of them all.

I can hear Fr. Michael Himes saying if something is always and everywhere true, it must be noticed and celebrated somewhere, sometime.

God is everywhere and always with us. These twelve days of Christmas are a time to stop and notice, to rejoice in the gift of Divine Self that was given in a complete and extraordinary way in the life of Jesus.

Finally, we have snow. Though wet and only two inches deep, it is white and beautiful. Christmas was all rain, and I admit to envying my Minnesota friends’ two feet of powder, view across the lake, and Mass in the Abbey Church. After exchanging Christmas greetings over the phone, I hung up and switched my computer wallpaper to last winter’s photo taken out the apartment’s back window. Blue tree shadows fell across the snow-covered lake and patio; January at the Institute was breathtaking.

This year I was in Ann Arbor for the holidays. I did not have the view and was careful as I stepped over water flowing beside the curb when getting in and out of the car, but I had my three daughters, a good friend, and time: Better than snow.

We ate homemade oxtail vegetable soup and snacked on imported cheeses and crackers washed down with spiced red wine. The apartment was crowded; one daughter had to excuse herself a few times to complete marking final papers and posting grades. Another daughter had switched to her “break” schedule: up until early morning, asleep until early afternoon, but we had a good time playing Apples to Apples and catching up.

Most gifts were simple this year, many were practical with a few surprises thrown in. One of mine was unexpected and extraordinary: A hand-thrown mug from The Soft Earth’s potter, Joan Lederman. The form is beautiful and organic, but what makes it unique is the glaze. Joan uses core samples of the ocean floor taken by scientists at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. When they have finished with the sediment, it is given to Joan who uses it for her glazes.

On my Christmas mug, the words “Deep Down, Far Out, Earth Crust, Space Dust” encircle the bottom, written on bare clay. The predominant glaze color is deep brown, resulting from sediment from The Kane Fracture Zone, rich in manganese, peridotite, serpentine, basalt, and olivine gabbro. A small band of lighter brown divides the glaze about one third of the way down the mug. This strip of glaze is what merits the words “Far Out…Space Dust.”

In a core sample taken at the K-Trace Boundary, scientists found a small deposit of 65 million year old remains of an asteroid, truly star dust. Was this left from asteroids that collided with the earth raising enough dust to block sunlight and lead to mass extinctions of plants and animals, including the dinosaurs?

In response to the sudden death of a pioneering geologist, Joan offered to make a piece to celebrate his life. She was given sediment from his work discovering the first core that demonstrated the iridium anomaly from the K-T Band. Later she came to appreciate it alongside samples from drillings into Earth’s crust – these became the “earth crust & space dust” pieces. When I first found them on the Internet, I emailed my archeologist daughter to share the amazing find. As a young child, she had been interested in dinosaurs, once taking a survey at a local mall to determine what most people thought caused the extinction of dinosaurs. An Asteroid strike was among the choices.

Knowing my spiritual response to all things “cosmic,” she and her younger sister decided to purchase one of Joan Lederman’s last two “Space Dust” mugs for me. Now, when I drink my tea in the morning, I will be cradling earth crust and stardust in my hands, contemplating the glory of the universe and my small place in it.

Visit The Soft Earth website: http://www.thesoftearth.com/

CLAY NATIVITY SCENE: GENEVA HARDING VAN BALEN; PHOTOS: MARY VAN BALEN

Leaning back in my chair, I smiled, ready to concentrate on Christmas. I sent out some fee-lance magazine articles yesterday; now my students’ final grades were posted. I had spent the past couple of days reading papers on “Sacrament” and realized that the assignment was appropriate to the season that celebrates the Incarnation.

Besides looking at the seven ritual sacraments of the Catholic Church, our class explored the broader understanding of sacrament as a visible or physical sign that points to something beyond itself, which in our case, was to God. Karl Rhaner said that all grace is mediated through the material things of the world, and many of the students’ papers illustrated that fact.

A number of students wrote about people, particularly family members, who had been a “sacrament” to them. A parent’s unwavering support during life’s upheavals helped more than one student become aware of God’s constant presence. Others experienced God’s mercy through forgiveness received from a spouse or friend. For some, a friend who faced serious illness or unemployment with peace, borne of deep faith, inspired them to reconnect with God in their own lives. Nature, sport, music, and art all made appearances in the papers.

Learning that Jesus is the primordial sacrament, the Sacrament from which all others flow, was exciting for some students and is what we celebrate at Christmas. In order to communicate infinite love and desire for unity with creation and human beings, God needed to “speak our language.” We are part of a material world and God became part of it. If Jesus had not become one of us, we would never have “heard” the fullness of God’s voice or known the fullness of Divine Presence.

Fr. Michael Himes of Boston University expounded on these ideas and explained grace as “Love outside the Trinity.” God is already a relationship of persons but desired to draw us into that “family circle.” Jesus is our invitation, our means of arriving there, our Sacrament.

I am finally ready to concentrate on the season. As much fun as shopping can be, the activity easily becomes overwhelming, and we think less about appreciating family and friends and more about beating someone to the checkout line or the hours we have left to go. The best way is most likely not hurrying from store to store, but taking some time to reflect on how God’s grace is mediated to us through people and places, through talents shared and time enjoyed. We can read Scripture and reflect on the amazing story of a young woman who was open to the most intimate experience of God’s mediated Grace: Jesus, God/man, growing in her womb.