In 1977, I was a young woman whose firstborn was still new born and whose husband was deployed to the Philippine Islands. While Jerry was overseas, my baby and I flew to Florida to spend time with our family. That was when I went to see this new space movie getting a lot of attention, a movie they called: Star Wars.

From the opening moments, I was hooked.

• Instead of a futuristic flick, it was “a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.”
• Instead of a story with a beginning and an end, this was Episode IV, clearly a tale with much more yet to tell.
• The good-guy aviators wore flight helmets that were scuffed and scarred; they obviously had seen hundreds of flight hours – much like my Navy husband.
• There was a bar scene with aviators telling sea stories with hand motions – much like every gathering we Navy wives had ever attended.
• Unlike so many other plot lines of the day, there was a strong, outspoken woman giving orders and strong, brave men following her lead.
• Like so many other plot lines, there were sidekicks – but Oh. My. Goodness! such sidekicks!
• And like every classic story every society has ever told – there was evil. And there was good.

As I watched Episode IX, I wept.

Here in Lamar County Texas , we are fortunate to have a healthy criminal justice system.

Our Chief of Police and County Sheriff are honorable men who lead their deputies to follow the law as they protect and serve us. Our judges know the law and use their authority carefully and wisely. Our District Attorney leads a department of prosecutors who function with deep integrity, people for whom the rule of law is foundation and guide. Our defense attorneys serve their clients conscientiously, ensuring that the entire system abides by the rule of law and those who are accused receive fair and just treatment.

As a CASA volunteer, I am in court regularly watching human drama play out before my eyes. I continue to be impressed with the professionalism and decorum of these public servants. We are fortunate that they are our neighbors.

Because of my experience with our county court system, I have been astounded and dismayed by what I have seen during the legal proceedings in the House of Representatives during this impeachment process.

Generally I try to resist Black/White dualities in my thinking and speaking. I’ve discovered that endless greys (or maybe a rainbow pallet) is a much better way to paint our human family.

That said, we humans do tend to think in Light/Dark, Good/Bad, Up/Down, In/Out categories; they are convenient handles that help us conceptualize the Big Picture of our world.

When President Obama spoke at the centennial celebration of Nelson Mandela in 2018, he talked about “two different visions, two different stories, two different narratives;” two broad approaches to understanding – and living in – the world.

We now stand at a crossroads – a moment in time at which two very different visions of humanity’s future compete for the hearts and the minds of citizens around the world.

Two different stories, two different narratives about who we are and who we should be.

The recent push back to the climate activism of Greta Thurnberg surprised me. And then it didn’t.

It reminds me of similar condemnations of the Parkland survivors who rallied a nation to protest our national epidemic of gun violence.

Then I wondered – what about the activism of Malala Yousafzai? Where was the outrage when she stood against the Taliban and insisted on every girls’ rights to an education?

• Where were the photoshopped photos of Malala and George Soros?
• Where were the cries of feigned concern that she was a child being exploited by adults?
• Where were the fabricated stories claiming she and her parents were paid actors?
• Where were the sniffs of indignation: how dare she scold? What does she know? She’s just a girl (and an ugly one at that).

Did I miss something?

Follow the Money

The literary and moral turning point of Mark Twain’s iconic Huckleberry Finn makes me tear up every time.

Juvenile delinquent, Huck, and runaway slave, Jim, team up on a raft on the Mississippi River, sharing adventures, sharing life. Pretty soon, Huck realizes they have become friends – an epiphany that creates an existential crisis.  

Huck’s conscience indicts him: it is wrong to steal someone else’s property. It is wrong to lie. It is wrong for a black man to go outside his proper place. And it is wrong for Huck to help him.

Clear, obvious and universal wrongs.

Right?

So the entire story turns on Huck’s decision – not only to sin against fundamental rules of his society, but also (as he had been taught) – to sin against foundational laws of God.

“All right then. I’ll go to hell.”

Growing up as a Southern Conservative Christian Woman, I know something about Huck’s world.

• The racial prejudices of our society were baptized as God’s will.
• The hierarchical, patriarchal order we created was presumed to be God’s universal and preordained plan for the world.
• Time bound, culture bound social attitudes and practices were sanctioned and sanctified by the God we created in our own image.

Much like Huck, my own existential crisis snuck up on me.

First came the questions; suspicions that my Hierarchical World was built on some very shaky foundations.

Then came movement; removing myself from the echo chambers of my youth and intentionally engaging in (often uncomfortable) conversations with multiple voices.

Then these multiple voices became friends. It was the friendships that created my own existential crisis.

“Anthropology trumps theology,” my husband says.

When new and different opinions came from the mouths of trusted companions, somehow I was able to listen differently; to hear whispers of truth about the Human and Divine that had been muted by all the clamorous “No’s” of my previous world.

I began to hear truth about the Human Condition and Divine Grace that had never been able to reach my heart before: all of us are fully included in God’s unconditional love.

Once I experienced full inclusion for myself, then I realized I dare not withhold full inclusion for any of God’s other children. This epiphany prompted a new formula for living:

I would rather face God’s judgment for including everyone than to be judged for excluding any one of God’s children.

If I am to be judged, then judge me for my grace.

• Grace for my queer as well as my homophobic family
• Grace for the Jims as well as the Huckleberry Finns.
• Grace for the lovers and grace for the haters.

Grace like Huck’s that will do whatever it takes to subvert the systemic powers that diminish, limit and exclude.

I hope Huck finally realized he was not going to hell because he loved Jim.

And I pray this discovery for my countless conservative sisters and brothers whose skewed theology keeps them trapped in their small, sad world of “No’s.”

I hope some day these otherwise good-hearted people will finally understand that hell is not some place we go; hell is what we create when we limit love and grace.

Asperger’s Syndrome has my attention; I’ve been reading and researching and trying to understand some of its strange gifts as this way of being shapes the lives of some of the people I love.

I’m especially curious about how to help calm and reorient an Aspie child when they spiral out of control. Turns out, there is such a thing as a weighted belt that can allow someone to feel grounded and secure, even when the environment all around bombards them with confusing, disorienting stimuli.

Then it hit me: aren’t we all bombarded with confusing, disorienting stimuli these days?

Every single news cycle seems to spiral to some new level of crazy. How can any of us find a sense of calm? How can any of us feel secure when our world seems to be spiraling out of control?

Turns out, there is a belt for us too.

Tucked within the little book of Ephesians in the New Testament, there is a little picture painted: people of faith suited up in our protective gear against “the cosmic powers of darkness.” Righteousness, faithfulness, peace and wholeness are pictured as thwarting the dizzying spirals of this world’s injustice, violence and malice. And right there, at the center of our “armor,” is the belt of Truth.

Truth has taken a beating lately.

No matter where we are on the religious or political spectrum, we all are experiencing a crisis of truth. Which facts are most accurate? Whose analysis is right? Which preachers or politicians should we trust? We all know facts can be manipulated and messages too often become a product of spin. We all are tempted to open our hearts uncritically to people we trust and automatically disregard those we have pre-judged to be untrustworthy. It’s a chaotic spiral of confusing, disorienting stimuli.

Thank goodness there is a “belt” that can surround and ground us. Thank goodness there is Truth that is so much bigger than our little opinions and perspectives. Right now, during this crisis of truth throughout our society, all of us carry an extra responsibility to discern truth and to speak what is deeply, authentically and cosmically true.

And how do we do that?

Whether we are operating out of religious faith or responsible citizenship, let’s all seek to surround ourselves and ground ourselves in truth.

• Let’s test everything we read and hear.
• Let’s ask probing questions and research information.
• Let’s Google the articles that show up in our Facebook feed and trash the ones that are suspect.
• Let’s all be more curious and try to understand someone else’s point of view, and then be willing to change our minds and grow.

The Rotarians ask: “Is it the truth? Is it fair to all concerned? Will it build goodwill and better friendships? Will it be beneficial to all concerned?” An excellent test!

People of faith must ask, not just what is true? but also Who is Truth?

If we call ourselves God-followers, then we too (like Christ) must seek to embody truth in every thought, word and deed.

Only then can we find any real security within this chaotic world. Only then can we hope to influence our society to live according to cosmic truths of justice, mercy and love.

Also published in The Paris News, September 6, 2019 under the title: The Only Security is in Real Truth.

My husband put up our flag for the Fourth of July and came back into the house singing the Star Spangled Banner. We both love our country. We’re both grateful for this nation we call home. But, on that particular day, I was surprised to realize how ambivalent I felt about the national anthem and about this flag waving to me from my front yard.

Maybe my problem is with our checkered past.

On July 3, I usually stand on the portico of our County Courthouse and take my turn reading aloud the Declaration of Independence. Every year I cringe when we read the paragraph complaining about the ways King George “excited domestic insurrections amoungst us, and endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontier the merciless Indian Savages…”

The Founders abhorred those evil “merciless Indian Savages.”

Never mind the fact that it was Europeans who mercilessly slaughtered and displaced the Native Peoples as they took over the New World. Never mind the merciless savagery inherent in every war – even in the war for our own independence.

Mark Charles is a wise, bold Native American blogger who reminds us of this complicated American history. In his essay, Reflections from the Hogan: The Dilemma of the Fourth of July, Charles calls us to remember all our national history with all its troubling complexity.

Even as we proclaim that “all men are created equal,” we must also acknowledge how many years it has taken this nation to grow toward the civilized understanding that “all” means ALL. And we must acknowledge that we still have more growing to do.

Maybe my problem is with our checkered present.