Archive | December 2023

Slippery When Wet

Slippery When Wet
David R. Weiss – December 30, 2023

The tears caught me off guard on Monday night (December 18). Margaret and I were in the middle of our weekly phone conversation with my dad when suddenly my voice broke. Next thing I knew, my words collapsed into a soggy mess as I tried to speak through the tears—and my surprise at the unexpected rush of emotion.

Earlier that day we’d driven about 20 miles up to the Heritage Center of Brooklyn Center in the northeast Metro for our son-in-law Will’s naturalization ceremony. Will is from Nicaragua. He met our daughter, Meredith, a decade ago when she spent two-plus years in Nicaragua working for a Minnesota-based nonprofit that supported grassroots projects there. Eventually they married and had a child. When Meredith’s work there ended in 2015, they came back to Minnesota together, and Will got a green card, allowing him to work in the states.

Will is a “love-immigrant” more than an economic one. Although he works hard, he did not come here seeking a better life for himself. He came to build a life together with Meredith and their (now) two children. He’s found English a challenging language to learn, so while his basic proficiency has steadily grown, until recently he hasn’t felt ready to attempt the U.S. citizenship exam. In fact, he spent months trying to build his confidence, weeks studying, and more than a handful of sleepless nights awaiting test day.

Test day came on November 29, and that morning Margaret and I drove over to the USCIS (U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services) office in downtown Minneapolis simply to be with Will and Meredith while he waited to be called back for the exam. But when we arrived—a few minutes before his scheduled appointment—he’d already been called back early and given the exam. In fact, as soon as we cleared security and approached them in the waiting area, the smile beneath Will’s glistening cheeks announced his success on the exam even before we were close enough to exchange warm hugs. Now, Will is stoic by almost every measure. I found myself deeply moved by his emotions.

Afterwards the four of us went across the street for coffee. I’m not sure which was greater, Will’s sheer relief or his unbound joy. Both were everywhere: in his nonstop smile, his multiple headshakes, his hugs, his repeated exclamations of “Wow,” and his tears. So, I knew his Naturalization Ceremony (when he’d formally be sworn in as a U.S. citizen) would be another momentous occasion—this one, thankfully, without any anxiety. And momentous it was. (Although my tears during the evening phone call to my dad came from a different place, as I’ll explain.)

That Monday morning, at the Heritage Center, while Will sat in the front section of a large ballroom, we joined Meredith and their two children, John (10) and Benjamin (7½), in an area reserved for family and friends of new citizens. The boys understood this was a huge occasion for their dad, but for them it mostly sparked mild curiosity and polite indifference. Kids.

For the rest of us—that is, Meredith, Margaret, me and the several hundred other family and friends of those seated up front—it was a civics lesson of the highest order. Before the formal ceremony began, we listened as the about-to-be-citizens received instructions on how to complete their applications for new Social Security cards after the ceremony, as well as encouragement to fill out their voter registration form right there at the Heritage Center, and where to get information about applying for a passport. Then, as a sort of warm-up to the ceremony, we watched a video montage of immigrant faces from across the years and around the globe and featuring the famous line from Emma Lazarus’ poem for the Statue of Liberty: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free …” From my great-great grandparents, immigrants from Germany in the 1800’s, right up to Will in 2023, the fabric of our country has been woven from the threads of immigrant lives.

On this particular day 400 immigrants from 72 different countries added their threads to our weaving. After standing and singing the national anthem—itself a very moving experience in this setting—the ceremony began. A representative from USCIS came forward and, after declaring that these persons had met the requirements for citizenship, he made a formal motion to receive them as citizens. Once the motion was accepted, a judge administered the citizenship oath. Really, this 140-word oath is an act of alchemy. These persons repeated the oath phrase by phrase in unison while standing, and with their hands held up in pledge: a chorus of 400 voices who began speaking as individuals from around the globe and became—with their final words—something more: citizens of the United States of America.

After the oath the judge offered some extended words of reflection on the challenge of America. Describing our country as a work in progress, he invited these new citizens to join the rest of us in pursuing together the aspiration of America. He admitted that citizenship comes easily (instantly) to many in America, while for others (and certainly for some of the 400 seated before him), it comes as the culmination of sometimes perilous journeys, confusing processes, and years of effort. But now, he explained, after the culmination, the real work begins.

He told them, with obvious passion in his voice, that today they have taken their place within those sacred “fifteen words” that form the Preamble to the Constitution: “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union …” And now, as part of “We the People,” it falls to them to help shape a society where the ballot is more trusted than the bullet; where laws govern, rather than where dictators rule; where taxes serve the greater good and promote the common welfare; where differing views can be heard with respect; and where the inclusion of others is known as the unfolding vocation—and the undoubted strength—of the nation.

Altogether stronger words than I expected to hear, I confess. Far from a mere formality, the ceremony and the judge’s commission, really evoked the America that could be. A nation worthy of our pledged allegiance not because it offers liberty and justice for all, but so that it might. Unfinished work.

Now, for my unexpected tears. As I recounted the morning’s ceremony to my dad, I found myself weeping less for the beauty of the moment—though it was undeniably beautiful—than for my grief at the political calamity playing out in our nation today. Or perhaps it was the stark counterpoint between the beauty of the ceremony and the judge’s message … and the horror of a former president whose venomous words not only undercut the ideals of our nation but take aim at the very practice of our democracy.

And yet he continues to be far and away the leading GOP candidate for the presidency. Do you listen to what the man says?! He regularly—habitually!—dehumanizes anyone he deems “other.” Immigrants are “poisoning our blood”; leftists (like me!) are “vermin”—and both phrases are drawn directly from Nazi Germany, where they were employed (successfully!) to normalize murderous violence against those deemed undesirable by Hitler and the Nazis. Within the Republican Party almost no one dares to challenge Trump’s hate-mongering, let alone name it as fascist. And yet it is.

In truth, there have always been multiple Americas: a country contested among its leaders and by its citizens from the start. One America has soaring rhetoric of equality and liberty and justice—though beneath these lofty phrases, the attitudes and structures of power worked almost effortlessly to reserve the ideals foremost for those who are wealthy or at least white. Such was the America of our founding fathers. Another America includes those persons restless to extend the ideals of the nation to all its citizens—indeed, to hold these values as due toward all persons regardless of their citizenship. This America recognizes that if equality, liberty, and justice are true civic goods, then denying them even to those who are “other,” lessens their goodness also for us. This is the aspirational America that has never yet been. But the pursuit of this America ennobles those of us who work for it, even as its reality is yet to come.

But there is another America, too. In this America, every ideal is compromised, discarded, or twisted to serve the raw appetite for power of an authoritarian nationalism. In this America civil rights (and human rights) are dispensable. Elections are managed, from limited voting rights to gerrymandered districts to blatantly partisan election oversight—to ensure that the power of a minority can rule (which is no longer governance). In this America, political dissent will be neutralized. In this America, Earth will be exploited as ruthlessly as is technologically possible, because anything less than unfettered growth is failure. This is Trump’s America. As it is the America of those who brought him into power, and those who have chosen to ride his demonic charisma for their own political advantage.

This is, largely, the America of the present Republican party, coalescing around the destructive energy unleashed by Trump. Differing only in the transparency of its rhetoric, this vision of America is driven by the raw grasp for brute power in a country where the writing on the wall is clear. The majority in this divided nation long for some version of that aspirational America praised by the judge in the citizenship ceremony. Indeed, the clear majority in this multi-hued nation, agree that America is best when it is diverse and tolerant, with expansive rights and a core commitment to justice. That’s the writing on the wall.

Which is why the GOP, with Trump’s venomous rhetoric leading the way, has only one path to gain and hold power: fan the public’s fear, dehumanize their opponents, reduce their rights to vote, break the very processes for governing, and create conditions that will allow a minority to rule with authoritarian power over a majority of their fellow citizens, whose humanity will be rendered second class … or worse. Let’s be very clear: that’s what it would mean to “Make America Great Again.” It would mean to make America the worst it has ever been. It would be to UNMAKE the promise of America and to forfeit the great experiment of democracy.

And this MAGA America, far from being some exaggerated nightmare, is a real political possibility. Not least because the Democratic Party has failed to lead with policies that deliver expansive justice or speak in plain language that addresses the real vulnerabilities of citizens. And not least because Joe Biden is unwilling to step aside and let someone with a clearer, more vibrant sense of that aspirational America carry his party’s standard into the next election. But mostly it is because Trump and the Republican Party are actively persuading one set of citizens to so distrust, fear, and loathe their fellow citizens that they would be willing to destroy democracy itself at the Party’s bidding.

This is what drove my tears. That on the very day we celebrated Will adding the thread of his life to our nation, so many in this nation are prepared to embrace (with passion!) a xenophobic nationalist authoritarian fascist future. Alas.

And I suppose this in particular drove my tears: that I know there are those among my own friends and family who will be poised to vote democracy away in 2024. Who will be ready to do whatever they feel is needed to thwart that aspirational America from ever becoming. Who will cheerfully (with happy rage) view people like Will as “poisoning our blood,” people like me as “vermin,” and so many others I love—from LGBTQ persons to BIPOC persons—as less than human. This is pain that is most personal: that among those I love, are those who would betray others I love for the fear and contempt sown by Trump and others on the right. Alas, alas.

My joy at Will’s citizenship is made bittersweet by all this. Democracy is slippery when wet. And from the tears running down my cheeks, it’s apparent that democracy is most slippery right now. Slipping away? Only time will tell. But that it is slippery is beyond debate. It glistens on my cheeks.

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David Weiss is a theologian, writer, poet and hymnist, “writing into the whirlwind” of contemporary challenges, joys, and sorrows around climate crisis, sexuality, justice, peace, and family. Reach him at drw59mn@gmail.com. Read more at www.davidrweiss.com where he blogs under the theme, “Full Frontal Faith: Erring on the Edge of Honest.” Support him in Writing into the Whirlwind at www.patreon.com/fullfrontalfaith.

Celebrating the Release of Marvin Haynes—with Angry Joy

Dec11

Celebrating the Release of Marvin Haynes—with Angry Joy
David R. Weiss – December 8, 2023

This morning around 11am, Marvin Hayes walked out of Stillwater Prison a free man. After nearly twenty years of wrongful imprisonment.

Marvin had steadfastly maintained his innocence from the start, and at an evidentiary hearing in November, he and his attorney were able to present evidence demonstrating that his constitutional right to a fair trial in 2005 was violated, particularly in the prosecution’s reliance on notoriously unreliable eyewitness identification.

Marvin Haynes on the steps of the Stillwater prison – a free man

Indeed, it’s almost more accurate to say that the State, in its fervor to convict Marvin, set aside eyewitness identification to secure a guilty verdict. The single eyewitness to the murder described the subject as an adult black man … about 6 feet tall … thin build, weighing 180 pounds … with close-cropped hair. Haynes, meanwhile, was a 16-year teenager … five feet, seven inches tall … weighing 130 pounds … with a long afro. But police substituted a two-year-old photo of Marvin (with short hair), and after twice picking out someone other than Marvin, the eyewitness finally selected the man police wanted to put behind bars. There were other issues as well: no physical evidence—neither DNA nor fingerprints—and no video. Just one eyewitness who needed to be guided to pin a crime on an innocent black teenager.

It’s hard to believe it happened in the first place. Harder still that it took almost twenty years for the State to acknowledge and right this wrong. Except, this is the “logic,” NO, the ILLOGIC that drives the evil of white supremacy culture. It empowers police, prosecutors, and the courts to trample the truth and put a black man—in this case, just a kid!—behind bars under the false pretense of justice.

Some will see in today’s development, which is, of course, cause for joy, an affirmation of the claim, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” But I want to press back on that a bit. The simple phrase is a sound bite that can too easily gives false hope. As though Marvin Haynes’ freedom was a foregone conclusion all along; we just needed to wait patiently for the universe to sort things out. But Martin Luther King, Jr. didn’t utter those words from a spot on the sidelines of history. He invoked them from the midst of the messy fray of working tirelessly for justice himself.

I happen to believe that the universe does hunger for justice. That in ways we can never quite grasp (we use words like karma, grace, justice, and balance to reach toward an ineffable truth), the thrust of the universe opens toward complexity, freedom, agency, and purpose. But it guarantees nothing. It is we—who experience freedom, exercise agency, and pursue purpose—it is we who make the moral universe. Or fail to.

Ask Marvin Haynes—or his sister, Marvina—how interested the “justice system” was in working for justice in Marvin’s case. They (and all those who have been in solidarity with them across the years of this struggle) were, from first to last, bending the arc in the dark. Convinced of the truth. Convinced, too, that the universe was open to that truth—even hungry for it—and determined to not allow the forces of injustice to have the final word.

Marvin’s release today does NOT prove that the system works, albeit slowly. It proves that human beings, allied in deep solidarity with one another and with the call of justice—can (at times) overwhelm the resistance of the system itself. That “at times” is a dreadful but necessary qualifier. Even if the universe longs for justice, only those beings with freedom and agency (like us!) can pursue it. The universe’s longing rests on us. And there are forces arrayed against us, many of them woven into systems that prize power over justice. We won’t win every time. But today we did. And that is cause for joy.

But one last thing should be said. Today is cause for angry joy.

The “justice” awarded to Marvin today, egregiously late though it was, ought not be diminished. That’s the joy. At age 36 he has (hopefully!) years ahead of him to enjoy his freedom. But don’t imagine that his release somehow belatedly “rights a wrong”; how do you pretend that after having willfully stolen 19 years of a man’s life, there’s any way to right that? That’s the anger—or at least the tip of it. Today is a day for joy. Marvin Haynes is home at long last. But I suggest you save a little room for anger, as well. For several reasons.

After having been incarcerated for 19 years, Marvin’s freedom will be framed by the compounded trauma of those years. Having been denied justice for so long, having had so many years of his life stolen (the very years he should’ve had the opportunity to fashion an identity for himself), and having been subjected to conditions in prison designed to break a man’s spirit and misshape his soul. Most of us can feel the bright smile on his face today, but few of us can understand the long years of dehumanizing energy he’s been subjected to.

Marvin’s universe was bent toward injustice against his will for a couple decades. No bright smile on a Monday morning is going to undo that. So, let there be some anger alongside the joy to feed the determination to accompany Marvin through the hard work of reclaiming a life on the outside. The State will want to wring its hands a few times, maybe write out a check to Marvin, and then say, “our work here is done.” And maybe it is. Given that most of the State’s work has been to harm Marvin, maybe it’s best for the State to step aside. But the rest of us dare not.

As much as Marvin may have needed us to help bend the arc toward his freedom, he will need even more help now to sustain the freedom he’s been granted. Because owning that freedom will involve healing from all the harm that’s been done “in the name of justice.” That’s where angry joy enters—because it recognizes that today’s jubilation is only the first step in a journey toward freedom that remains arduous and fraught.

But also, angry joy because there are so many others whose stories differ from Marvin’s only in the details. Philip Vance, for instance. I’ve written about Philip’s story elsewhere; he is also a man whose innocence could not protect him from wrongful imprisonment for twenty years—and counting.

Philip will no doubt rejoice in today’s news—when word of it reaches him where he sits in solitary confinement at same prison that Marvin walked out of earlier today. See, Philip was sentenced to solitary (for 180 days!) as retribution for his role in a peaceful protest against inhumane conditions in the prison. Ironically, the use of extended solitary confinement is itself viewed as inhumane by the United Nations, and the terms of Philip’s current placement in solitary appear to openly contradict Minnesota law. But, again, this is the “logic,” NO, the ILLOGIC that drives the evil of white supremacy culture. In fact, I suspect the severity of Philip’s placement is a direct result of the energy he’s invested in recent months in asserting his innocence.

Well, one action of angry joy that you can take right now—one fine way to celebrate Marvin’s freedom while acknowledging that it is not nearly enough, is to sign this petition calling for Philip’s release from solitary. Because this, too, is bending the arc in the dark. And, honestly, it’s only in the dark (with no guarantee and through our tireless efforts) that the arc ever bends.

I am filled with angry joy at Marvin’s release. Overjoyed he is finally home. Angry at the healing he has yet to do. And angry for those not yet free. I hope you are, too. (Now, sign that petition! Thanks!)

* * *

David Weiss is a theologian, writer, poet and hymnist, doing “public theology” around climate crisis, sexuality, justice, diversity, and peace. Reach him at drw59mn@gmail.com. Read more at www.davidrweiss.com where he blogs under the theme, “Full Frontal Faith: Erring on the Edge of Honest.” Support him in Writing into the Whirlwind at www.patreon.com/fullfrontalfaith.

Dec. 12 – Conversations in the Commons

Dec6

COMING: December 12, 2023 – Conversations in the Commons with David Weiss

Through a creative collaboration with Zion Lutheran Church as part of their commitment to serve as a “community commons” in their neighborhood, I host “Conversations in the Commons” around my “Writing into the Whirlwind” every Second Tuesday—from 6:30-8pm.

These evenings are a chance for me to share some of my recent work (or some of my favorite) and then open things up for conversation. I’ll typically identify the blog post(s) we’ll be discussing at least a week in advance so you can read them ahead of time and come ready to engage! Each evening, I’ll offer a few opening reflections, and then invite conversation, which might simply be in response to my reflections and selected writings or in response to some posed questions. My work has always been enriched by conversation, and that’s more important than ever today. You’ll find topics for the next conversation, as well as key details for all these events on the backside.

Tuesday, December 12, 2023, 6:30-8pm

Christmas Pageant Pandemonium: Untangling & Untaming Christmas

Shepherds and Magi often traipse nearly side-by-side down church aisles in Christmas pageant cuteness. Some wee kids become angels underneath shiny halos while another child gets to be “the” glittery Christmas Star. But Matthew and Luke, whose images we blend together in our Christmas pageants, each offer their own distinctive Christmas story. And by untangling these yuletide tales, we also untame them—releasing their imaginative foreshadowing of the world-challenging power of God experienced in Jesus. If you’ve ever wondered whether there’s more to the Christmas stories than wondrous tales and a cute baby, this evening will give you plenty to ponder. This is Christmas wonder made most real. I can pretty much guarantee you’ll learn a few new things—and that you’ll never think about Christmas in quite the same way again.

Please read my blog post on “Christmas Pageant Pandemonium” in advance of Tuesday’s conversation. It’s pinned to the top of my blog (www.davidrweiss.com), and you can print out a PDF from my blog if you prefer to read it offline. It’s about a dozen pages long, but very engaging. Of course, you don’t need to read the essay in advance, but the conversation will be far richer if you do! Bring your comments and questions; I’ll bring mine. (Although not directly joined to my “writing into the whirlwind” around climate and ecological-societal collapse, this session will lift up the unexpected—and necessary—power residing in these sacred stories. Power that can help us in meeting the future well.)

If you plan to come, please RSVP by email (drw59mn@gmail.com) or on the FB event. This isn’t “required,” but it helps me make sure the room is set up appropriately.

Key details:

Location: Zion Lutheran Church, 1697 LaFond Ave., St. Paul, MN 55104. No parking lot, but plenty of street parking right near the intersection. Unfortunately, Zion’s building is not (yet) accessible; an elevator is coming in the next year!
Entrance: You can now use the courtyard entrance at the right/east end of the building on Lafond. It’s the most direct way to the Conference Room. Or you can still use the door along Aldine Street near the alley (especially if you come early for the meal). There will be plenty of signs (maybe even a smiling person) to guide you to the Conference Room.
These evenings are no cost to you. I usually set out a donation basket if you feel moved to put a couple dollars to benefit some aspect of Zion’s ministry or a cause dear to me. But all that I truly ask is your presence and participation!
The second Tuesday of each month Zion hosts a gluten-free, nut-free, vegan community meal. You’re welcome to come early for this pay-as-you-can meal served in the church basement. But you do need to RSVP separately by 8am Monday for this. Find important details about the meal below.

I hope you can join me for conversation around “Christmas Pageant Pandemonium” on December 12!

OUR NEXT CONVERSATION:
Tuesday, Jan. 9, 2024 – In the Dead of Winter: The Options – and Emotions – of ‘Green’ Burial

I’ve written about the harm we do – spiritually, ecologically, and culturally – through our “standard” burial practices, which treat our bodies as if we are not Earthlings. And I’ve said I want a greener burial for myself. What would that mean? Well, I don’t actually know. But, by January 9, I plan to find out … and I’ll tell you what I’ve learned. Then we’ll discuss the options – and the emotions – of a ‘green’ burial.

The 2nd TUESDAY COMMUNITY MEAL AT ZION LUTHERAN CHURCH

These full meals (served all day, from 11am to 7pm) are prepared by chef Colin Anderson of Eureka Compass Vegan Foods as part of his passion for food solidarity. Each Community Dinner at Zion benefits their Food Justice programs and Thursday food shelf program. You can read more about them here: https://eurekacompassveganfood.com/community-dinner.

Here are the important details:

Make Colin’s life easier by pre-ordering your Community Dinner meals no later than 8am on Monday. That’s his shopping day. Here are the preordering instructions:

Email eurekacompassveganfood@gmail.com to let Colin know HOW MANY meals you need and WHEN you’re coming. (If you’re coming for my 6:30p “Conversations in the Commons,” you’ll want to arrive 5:45-6p and dine in. We WON’T be meeting in the dining area, so you’ll want to finish your meal there and then head to the Conference Room at 6:25p.)
NO PAYMENT IS NECESSARY, but cash contributions are accepted the day of the dinner. If you’d like to contribute with a credit card, indicate how much you wish to contribute when you email your pre-order. You’ll receive an invoice by email that you can pay electronically via a prompt on the invoice.
Show up on the day of the dinner at your designated time, and we’ll have your meals ready for you! If you have any questions, just send us an email! We’re happy to connect!

Each meal is gluten free, nut free, and vegan to make it accessible to as many in the community as possible. Other allergens such as corn and soy are rarely used. These meals are always offered “Pay what you want/can.” No one is turned away for lack of funds. Each Community Dinner has a philanthropic partner and half of all contributions at Tuesday dinners benefit Zion Lutheran’s Food Justice programs and Thursday food shelf program.