Resistance is Never Futile

shadowy islands beckon

shadowy islands beckon
the end of the day

promises of greatness
if not prosperity linger
dying on the surface

perhaps tomorrow
will bring clarity and color
to a world gone missing
before the first day ended

(Many thanks to my Australian blogging friend John for permission to use one of his beautiful photos.)

As each week ticks by, seconds tick down with frightening speed. Especially when we measure damage done in what amounts to the blink of an eye. For example, almost overnight our government and its officials have created conditions that ensure hundreds if not thousands more children, young people and parents will suffer from PTSD.

When nighttime falls or even when daylight breaks, the nightmares won’t end.

The photo above isn’t ugly or deeply disturbing. It’s beautiful. At the same time, it’s full of ambiguity about what’s happening, especially beneath the surface and in the distance.

It reminds me of the shadowy picture Mr. Trump projects now under the guise of Beauty. As in, ‘It’s going to be really really Beautiful!’ As though repeating this mantra will calm us down or reassure us.

Yet when push comes to shove, I don’t see evidence that Beauty is happening for everyone in this country, much less elsewhere. Nor do I see a clear and present pathway from here to there that doesn’t involve backtracking and distractions and attempts to make something really really big out of nothing.

We have deep rifts and problems that need solutions. But creating more enemies internally and externally just doesn’t add up to a good day’s work or a good night’s sleep for any of us.

I still believe Resistance is Never Futile. If it doesn’t get us killed, it can make us both softer and stronger. I consider myself part of the loyal Resistance. It would also be nice if we could all enjoy a peaceful evening by a duck pond.

Peace to each of you,
Elouise♥

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 27 July 2018
Photo by John of Australia. You can check out his blog site here.

January 13, 2018

blustery wind blows cold

blustery wind
blows cold against my face –
shadows lengthen

I’m just back from a brisk walk outdoors with D. In freezing temperatures, with the bright sun in my eyes and an unpredictable icy wind gusting at will. Imagine the sound of waves against the shore on a stormy night. That’s the sound of tall evergreen trees being tossed around by winter winds.

Almost the moment I finished writing the haiku above I thought about the current sound and fury of winds of change if not warfare.

Our airwaves are full of blustery wind these days. The kind that gives me a chill. I don’t laugh easily or often at political ineptitude. From my perspective, it feels like I’m shrugging it off, defanging it, or even giving up and not facing it for what it is. Which right now includes facing the reality that Mr. Trump’s presidency isn’t going away anytime soon. Nor will we ever return to the way things were.

This isn’t necessarily bad, except for this. The damage done by Mr. Trump’s bold ‘initiatives’ is going to trickle faster than predicted. Not up to the good of those who most need help, but down (yes, down) to the ‘good’ of the most wealthy corporations, men, women and families in the USA.

Shadows lengthen. All the laughter and bluster in the world won’t cover up growing disgust, betrayal, and in-your-face nastiness being dished out to immigrants and to citizens of this nation, many of whom voted for Mr. Trump. The fact that I didn’t vote for him doesn’t make me righteous. We’re in this together, and are already paying the price. One way or another.

Even so, nothing will take away the grandeur of a walk outdoors with D in brisk cold weather, the sun in my face and the wind whipping around me. It’s a tangible reminder that Mr. Trump does not own or control the sun, the wind or the temperature. He is not now, nor will he ever be the Creator of this universe. Much less its Savior.

Praying you have a wonderful Sabbath rest, if not a lovely walk outdoors in the freezing cold!

Elouise♥

7 Comments

February 9, 2017

Never. What’s at stake isn’t a predetermined outcome, and death is always a possibility. Yet resistance is never futile. It’s about our character. Not simply as individuals, but as communities and nations.

I have a theological hero. He wasn’t the most well-behaved man on the face of the earth. He was human just as I am. Some of his theological ideas still irritate me. That’s an understatement.

Yet he’s a theological hero. From him I learned to listen to myself, to Christian scripture, and to what’s happening around me. With a newspaper in one hand and my Bible in the other.

Actually, it’s more than listening. I call it looking in the mirror and discovering painful reflections of myself. Too often as a collaborator, not as a member of the faithful resistance.

Karl Barth came of age as a theologian during the early years of Hitler’s reign. Though he was a citizen of Switzerland, he spent most of his professional life as a professor of theology in Germany.

Barth cut his theological teeth on Hitler’s final solution for Jews. He became one of a surprisingly small number of resisting theologians, and an influential member of the so-named ‘confessing’ churches that refused to support Hitler.

His theological work is, in part, a critique of Hitler’s brutal treatment of Jews and a vision for something different. There were several parts to Barth’s vision for humanity.

First, absolute allegiance to following Jesus Christ as witnessed to in Christian scripture. Jesus of Nazareth—a practicing Jew whose total allegiance lay with Yahweh. No matter what the cost.
Second, a careful reading of Hebrew and Christian scripture in which he discerned a simple theme that brought every theological idea down to earth. Hospitality toward strangers. This theme challenges all human interactions including Hitler’s treatment of Jews and the churches’ treatment of Jews and others strangers.
Finally, who is this stranger? (Or, who is my neighbor?) According to Barth, the stranger is that person or group of persons you’d rather not see or meet today. Maybe he or she gives you a mortal headache. On the other hand, that person might beat you up and leave you lying on the side of the road to die. You never know. It’s easy to wish you could banish ‘these people’ who annoy, threaten or terrify you.

Hospitality toward strangers has a sweet sound about it. However, as developed by Barth, it’s not sweet and harmless. True hospitality toward strangers is a life-changer for the hostess or host, not just the stranger. It can lead to life; it can also lead to death. As it did for Jesus Christ.

We can already see the USA becoming polarized into stranger groups. It’s happening in churches, between religions, in public and private institutions, news media and families. Many groups vet members formally and informally by political or religious tests of various kinds.

It seems a good time to think about what it would take to show hospitality toward strangers today. Especially, but not only if we’re followers of Jesus Christ.

I’m not naïve. All strangers aren’t safe. Neither is every friend or family member. Wisdom and discernment are necessary. But not political or religious tests. We need each other now more than ever. No matter what the cost. It’s about the content of our character.

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Telling the Truth

Tag: Resistance is Never Futile

July 27, 2018

shadowy islands beckon

January 13, 2018

blustery wind blows cold

February 9, 2017