I’m having a hard time getting out of bed these days. The deep darkness of The FeloniousPOTUS and his Muskovite band are getting to me. Before I go any further though, I’m going to allow 18 seconds to receive your best pity. Feel free to unleash with, “Oh you poor privileged old white guy! There, there. Must be soooo hard to wake up every day to count the return on your investments. Boo hoo.” Time’s up. But fair enough. It’s clearly another one of those moments of great turning when my people have a chance to experience (at least 4th hand) what those on the margins have been living since the beginning of time in the shadow of Empire, in the realm of those values Gandhi called the Seven Deadly Sins:
1. Wealth without work.
2. Pleasure without conscience.
3. Knowledge without character.
4. Commerce without morality.
5. Science without humanity.
6. Religion without sacrifice.
7. Politics without principle.
When genocide, climate emergency and global-scale bullying rule the day; when lies, modern lynchings, clandestine abductions and the obscene accumulation of wealth and poverty tear us asunder…all sanctified by the Cult of the Orange Jesus where the elect live in Paradise and the rest of us can go to hell, we dearly need each other to stay human—-even old white guys. I set out to do this blog February 14—made my traditional Oregon-shaped birthday cake to celebrate our State’s beginnings along with the Valentine thing. But time passed and now it’s been a week and, as you can see from my initial photo, the cake is mostly devoured.
I mean, I tried my best on Cupid Day. I’m not great at sharing gratitude for the torrents of love I daily receive from those closest to me, but I do try. There are always love notes like the one we got from first-grade artist-in-residence Jackson and his Mother. And this year Debbie came home with this precious note from one of the kindergarten kids she reads with at the local school every week. “HV! HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, grandMA ANd grandPA” and “you are the best” are words you can certainly bank for a shitty day.
If you’ve hung out with me on this blog for awhile, you may remember Erin and I have been doing a father-daughter Oregon birthday cake on 2/14 for a few decades now. Last year’s was a topo map with Oregon’s major rivers. On the 160th birthday it was a brownie cake of the regions occupied by the tribal peoples when Europeans arrived. Sometimes it’s just eggs and toast.
As we got into February, I hadn’t the slightest idea for this year’s Valentine frosting. We weren’t seeing much evidence of love on the news as the ICE raids began with a vengeance. But we started showing up at community meetings with our neighbors and faith communities. There were whispers about becoming a Sanctuary Church in a Sanctuary City
and people were handing out these bodacious pink cards with Sanctuary Words on them:
NO ABRA LA PUERTA—NO CONTESTA NINGUA PREGUNTA—NO FIRMA NADA
“I do not wish to speak with you, answer your questions, or sign or hand you any documents based on my 5th Amendment rights under the U.S. Constitution. I do not give you permission to enter my home. I do not give you permission to search any of my belongings based on my 4th Amendment rights.” “ENTREGUELE ESTA TARJETA EL AGENTA—I choose to exercise my constitutional rights.” We keep our pockets full of these cards for any time we find ourselves with immigrant neighbors who need to know their rights. It’s a fitting Valentine for 2025.
I don’t know where you may find yourself in this—whatever we call it—time. I’ve been studying a book by Brian McLaren Life After Doom whose mantra is “What a magnificent thing it is to be alive in a time that matters so much.” Well, right? But I will repeat that I think for me and those of my class, this is, first, another chance to get it: if you think this is bad, just remember the Titanic steaming along too fast for its own good, thinking it was invincible. The privileged always travel the upper decks closest to the life boats while those in poverty are stuck in steerage below the water line. Oligarchs make us enemies of each other and assume those who live in deep shit will always live there while the band upstairs will always be playing “Nearer My God To Thee” while the whole things goes blub blub. If we can understand that life has always been a shit show for those on the margins, maybe we can truly begin to live in solidarity—-to live knowing we’ve always been in the same boat. If I were to say I have hope in this time that matters so much, I would say it because of all the resistance we can see rising up in this first month of this newest tyrannical reign of horrors. More folks marching, more people talking, all ages conspiring… this is the prize we must keep our eye on.
We rarely know what will become of our small actions. Our little team will provide Sanctuary. And show up to advocate for immigrant rights and safety. We will continue to help fund stuff like Our Children’s Trust, supporting the kids who are suing the federal government and state and provincial governments all over N. America for the Constitutional right to a healthy climate. We will go to the state legislature and do another round of advocacy to invite the state treasury to divest from fossil fuels. This week our local team sent a letter to the Bend City Council encouraging them to stay strong as the realtors and natural gas companies seek to water down the City’s progressive Climate Action Plan—not to waiver from a commitment to move away from more methane infrustructure and fund toward renewables, protecting and offering subsidies to the households who have least to do with our climate emergency but whose health and safety are most impacted by policies that keep natural gas appliances in their homes where their children are at risk. Several churches in our Central Oregon interfaith coalition signed on to this letter AS CONGREGATIONS. People are rising up. If I’m persuaded, I will place my hope in our communities, their sense of outrage, compassion, political smarts and young people who know how organizing for good is an act of love…and joy!
After a lot of thought, I settled on this cake for February 14, 2025. “Estas segura aqui. You are safe here.” I can invest my hope in this.
Finally—I am always lifted by song. Not just any song. Songs that step up and don’t back down from the truth of what’s really happening to and among us every day. Songs of anguish and the truth that we are never alone. I invite you to the words and music from our courageous friends Jim and Jean Strathdee and this music video from Strathdee Music (www.strathdeemusic.com/SingalongVideos.html). Welcome Home!
Bienvenidos amigos y amigas…
May we shine the light of safety and peace,
Beside this open door!
No esta solos ni solas! You are not alone!
It is our honor to stand with you.
Weary travelers, welcome home!
We come from Honduras, Guatemala and El Salvador.
We left our homes to save our families from starvation, gang violence and war.
We walked and we climbed on La Bestia (The Beast) for 2,000 miles and more
We rode on the boxcars (many fell off the train) but now we stand at your door.
Bienvenidos amigos y amigas…
May we shine the light of safety and peace,
Beside this open door!
No esta solos ni solas! You are not alone!
It is our honor to stand with you.
Weary pilgrims, welcome home!
Give me your tired, your poor, you huddled masses yearning to breathe free!
Send the oppressed, beat down and abused, desperate families to me.
We promised you safe harbor, the dream of starting a new life.
But your children were caged, families torn apart and savaged by anguish and strife.
But we humbly offer our friendship, our heartfelt open door
And a place and a time for your family to heal and your battered lives to restore.
And we will work together to help you build a plan.
We’ll walk with you the roads that lead to a safe home in this land!
Bienvenidos amigos y amigas…
May we shine the light of justice and peace,
Beside this open door!
No esta solos ni solas! You are not alone!
It is our honor to stand with you.
Weary travelers, welcome home. Weary pilgrims, welcome home.
Weary seekers, welcome home. Mi familia, welcome home!
I’m soooo glad your posting hit my email again. It’s been too long. I left the house in tears yesterday morning. I walked to the barn to start my daily rituals with the critters. I greeted them all. Then met friends to walk along the river and the old growth forest nearby. I returned to the house with a renewed capacity to engage and practice the way into these crisis that await us
Wow Anne! What a precious gift to hear from you out in Skagit Land. I am assembling personal incidents of Anne Schwartz in my memory as I type: I picture you sitting eating lunch in this huge room where they set me up to do lunchtime entertaining which is a songleaders moment of hell and you were singing and you came up to me afterward. I picture sitting with you on a bench in Seattle telling me the Blue Heron story so I could do a song for the fundraiser at the theatre in Mt Vernon and I remember you and your mom at the fundraiser and the thrill of singing with folks a new song and more. Staying connected is such a sweet investment in the future. Love to you.
John, we’ve not met, but dear friend Anne’s recommendation is the reason I follow your writings on the web. I got a great good chuckle from, “..18 seconds to receive your best pity. Feel free to unleash with, “Oh you poor privileged old white guy! There, there….” Even us poor old white guys may get the opportunity to relate at least a bit to the rest of the world.
Thanks for your contributions to the greater good!
John, I, too, really enjoyed this post and especially the acknowledgment that some of us who have privilege are experiencing the struggle that so many without have experienced all along. Viva la lucha! The struggle is exhausting, but there is solidarity when more of us come together understanding that we are stronger when we push back–together, and understand that democracy, freedom, mother earth all come at a cost. No longer taking it for granted, we must all do whatever it is that we can to share, spread love, work for justice, and make a difference in our circles. Si se puede!