(Re)inventing the Sacred

I read this blog entry today. Very interesting. A new entry will come later this week (or even this day, if you’re lucky).

The devil dwells in the urge to control rather than liberate the human soul… ~Eugene Kennedy
Luke 18:9-14; John 8:2-11; Matthew 25:34-45

In the film, Hotel Rwanda, we are reminded of what it means to be “the other.” As many of you may well know, the film focuses upon the conflict between the Hutus and the Tutsis. I, myself, had never read or heard that much about this conflict. And after watching Hotel Rwanda I am no longer surprised by my ignorance. Without giving much of the plot away, I must say that the film brings to light what it means to be “the other.” In the midst of a serious and devastating cultural conflict - involving the torture, murder, and rape of thousands of Tutsis by the Hutus, the West failed to respond until it was too late. Much like the current situation in Sudan, the West (Europe and North America) spent too much time arguing semantics and worrying about the economic feasibility of helping people who just so happened to have brown skin. It is no coincidence that I have seen this film during the same few days that I have been reading Manning’s book, The Ragamuffin Gospel. The very same day that I saw this story unfold on the television, I read these words: “We are not pr0-life simply because we are warding off death. We are pro-life to the extent that we are men and women for others, all others; to the extent that no human flesh is a stranger to us; to the extent that we can touch the hand of another in love; to the extent that for us there are no ‘others’…We weep at the unjustified destruction of the unborn. Did we also weep when the evening news reported from Arkansas that a black family had been shotgunned out of a white neighborhood?” I am reminded at this point of a line in Hotel Rwanda. The main character, Paul Rusesabagina, thanks an American news cameraman for capturing the footage of a massacre that has just occurred just a few miles away. He says thank you because he just knows in his heart that if people in the west see this footage, they will come to the aid of the Tutsis. Their conscience will compel them to action. They will not be able to sit and do nothing. However, we know - and the cameraman knows - that this will not be. The cameraman turns to Paul and tells him that people in the west will hear the news and say, “Oh my, that’s awful” and go back to eating their dinner. He’s right. Here in the west, we’ll argue all day long about whether or not we should allow “immigrants” to come into “our” country - as if our borders mean something to God. Christians will picket abortion clinics for hours and days - hell some of us even throw bombs at them - but will we show the same fervor and agony when a prisoner is executed? We say we respect the sanctity of life, but what we really mean is that we respect the sanctity of white, middle class, complacent, “Christian” life. At this juncture, I am reminded of a prayer written by Jeremy Hunt. He prays, Father, You are the God of sinners, tax collectors, and harlots - basically people just like me. Allow me to see myself as one in need of grace. Then allow me to offer that grace to others who need it as desperately as I do. If people of faith, specifically Christian faith, insist on being “pro-life” then we must be consistent and value the very same lives that are valuable to the God whom we worship: homosexuals, murderers, pregnant teens, drug addicts, and many “others” just like us.

I never thought that I would be one of those people who sat in Starbucks drinking coffee and writing on my laptop. I always thought those people were the ones I was supposed to stay away from. My mother used to tell me that there were some people who were simply unsafe to talk to. I had always assumed that the strange iBook people in Starbucks were among those dangerous persons I was supposed to stay away from. Little did I know that one day, only a few years removed from my mother’s advice, I would be sitting here in Barnes & Noble writing to you. As I write, I notice the people all around me. Some talking frantically on cell phones, others ordering food, some playing games, others reading magazines. A young man walks by me, indignant at his incessantly babbling female companion. She insists that the book is “Really good! You’ve just got to read it.” — “OK!!,” he says. I’m fairly certain he’ll never even pick up a book. I’m also fairly certain that I shouldn’t think that way. But really, in American culture today, it is quite easy to typecast people into their culturally assigned, media-driven roles. For example, the people here at Starbucks are supposed to be trendy. They’re supposed to laugh at the same jokes and drive the same types of cars that their yuppie parents drove when they were younger. However, to be fair, one can never assume that each person will fit his or her “typecast.” Certainly there are exceptions. Exceptions like myself. I don’t write these words to say that I am somehow better than any of the market-driven, consumption-controlled, yuppie offspring that sit around me here. I am simply saying that I am different from all of them. Somehow, I envy them. Because of my upbringing, because of my experience, I will always be conscious that I am a pawn - a piece in a game that rich men in big cities play with our lives. Lives that they own, control, and can take away with one pull of the plug. I envy them because they are oblivious. They miss the fact that there is a wonderful world out there devoid latte, devoid of gas prices, and full of life, tragedy, violence, love, peace, and a reality that most people are afraid to even imagine - much less engage. I know that I sound terribly arrogant and maybe I am. But at least I’m awake. Some people will spend their entire lives working to own that perfect car, that perfect house, and drink that perfect latte - at starbucks, with their spoiled brat yuppie offspring kids. I know that I’m cynical but at least I’m able to admit it. Most people are too busy buying lattes and trendy clothing to realize that there is a world out there that wants desperately to be engaged and lived in - a world that gets left behind every day - all because of one simple, evil, terrible, wonderful word: capitalism: the opium of the people.