Exclusion and Embrace

Yesterday, first advent sunday, two significant things happened, one a reason to rejoice, the other, a reason to despair.

Exclusion: The Swiss people in an act motivated by fear and ignorance accepted a popular referendum that prohibits the construction of new minarets in Switzerland. This appalling vote, which did a lot of damage even aside of its sad result, demonstrates an act of exclusion. The majority of Swiss people don't want a multi-cultural, multi-religous society. They have not realized that that is not their call. Nor do they seem to be aware that such an act of exclusion today will create more tension and violence they wish to have.

A friend wondered: let's say a muslim community buys one of the empty church buildings, will they have to tear down the church tower? All of a sudden the Swiss want to be Christian and they apparently don't want to have practising Muslims in their neighborhood. For the real reason of this vote was not the Minarets, but the presence of Islam, of other religions and other cultures as such. Never mind that many people don't understand the difference between culture and religion......

Embrace: The Reformed and the Mennonites officially and on a national level celebrated their reconciliation. The Reformed severely persecuted the Anabaptists of the 16th century, fathers and mothers of today's Mennonites. The Anabaptists for their part looked at the Reformed with self-righteous arrogance. Yesterday, after a three-year dialogue and many other steps over decades, they expressed their reconciliation in a moving and meaningful service at the Friedenskirche in Bern, under the theme "Christ is our Peace".

As the institutional church declines, and the Swiss seemingly want to be exclusively Christian, this embracing each other will hopefully lead to more common action towards truth and mercy, so that we won't eternally continue to export weapons while at the same time excluding those who flee from situations where these weapons are being used.

To kill or not kill the prophets of Baal

Last night I attended Mendelssohn's Elias, performed by 150 singers from the Bienne-Jura area. Struck as always by the beauty and power of the concert. One thing that occupied my mind, as often at such occasions: what do people make of the story? I imagine three approaches:


There are those, of whom there were many because it was largely church people who performed, who might feel, see, our God is the true God, good for Elijah, we knew it. He's shown it to these false prophets of Baal. Wouldn't it be better if things happened that way today too.....


Others probably think: Here is another demonstration of what a violent religion Christianity is. We knew it and there you have it: slaughtering those who believe something else than you. It's all the same, religion is a source of violence and killing, no matter where you look....


The third category, of whom Rose thought they were the majority, don't bother too much about it. They enjoy the music, watch the people perform, especially the ones they know. The killing is quickly brushed aside, it's an Old Testament story, so why bother....


To be sure, I tremendously enjoyed the concert. At the same time, I'm not sure whether what bothers me more is the story itself or the fact that sacred works from past centuries are being performed with no reflection, critique, musings, interpretation of the meaning. I often feel the same when a Bach oratorio is being given. In light of today's struggle with religion, meaning, sense, indifference and arrogance, I feel the need to look for interpretation of how that resonates in today's society. Beyond what it does for the individual, how it reinforces of questions post-modern assumptions. How it matches or relates to today's events and observations.


Here is what I learned at last night's concert: Elijah was obviously a true prophet, you know that because he challenged the established order, looking for justice. He was a great prophet, charismatic and inspired, passionate and compassionate. When accused of spreading confusion, he said to the King: you are the one who confuses the people. No King likes that. He brought back to life that boy of the poor and marginalized widow. But Elijah fell short of being the Messiah. Not because he wanted to give up, but because he killed the prophets of Baal. Here is the sequence: From the killing he goes right into depression. There is no sense any longer, neither in his ministry nor in his life. The great prophet whose charismatic power and strong faith brought rain onto a dry land is  removed from the face of the earth before the King can kill him. Kind of a nice way out. Then Mendelssohn's work ends with the perspective of the One coming who will illuminate the people rather than prove God's power, who will not kill but bring wisdom. Nonviolence was not part of the vocabulary of Mendelssohn's time. But that's what he is pointing to. And it's what differentiates Elijah from the Messiah.

More on walls

It's time to pick up the blog pen once again. Over at the PeaceProbe blog my friend Gene Stoltzfus writes about various walls. The late Berlin wall was very much on the news and blogs these past weeks. As I attended a series of events in Washington DC, focusing on military spending, demilitarization and related burning issues such as climate change and education, it occurred to me that world military spending is also some kind of a wall. Only that its height and thickness is hardly imagined. The wall is so big and so predominant we cannot see it.


World military spending is just over 1 Trillion Dollars/Swiss Francs in 2009. How much is that? Well, it's several times 100 Million, right? Right but wrong. Here is a hint Frida Berrigan of the Arms and Security Initiative at the New America Foundation gave us:


One trillion is one million million, in other words:
1 Million seconds = 11.5 days (the week after next)
1 Billion seconds = 32 years (I'd be well over 80 by then, but it's not inconceivable)
1 Trillion seconds = 32,000 years (what is that in human history?)


That's a little help in picturing the amount of money spent on military stuff. 10% of it would be enough to feed all the hungry children (in the US, which accounts for close to 50% of world military spending, in 2009 one child in four was affected by malnutrition), to provide vaccines and education for the world's children. Alas, education and health are sectors that are being cut as I write this. Military spending has about doubled over the past 10 years.


How is military spending a wall? By keeping people, and especially children, out of bounds from food, health and education. By adding tremendously to spoiling the earth, the waters and the air and by preventing effective measures to slow global warming. By killing hundreds of thousands of people, directly and indirectly. By keeping uncounted soldiers and their families from healthy living. By dividing many whose deaths are not reported from live - they commit suicide. By piling up an unimaginable amount of expenditures - which even our grandchildren won't be able to repay - for stuff that kills people and destroys the earth.


World military spending is a double scandal: it is a scandal in its very nature and existence. And it adds to that scandal the one of its sheer size. It is as if the Berlin wall, a scandal in itself, had been built 300 meters high and 2 kilometers thick. How can we not protest all day long against such deadly nonsense?

On taking a break from blogging

It's time to pick up the virtual pen again. The break was good, both for pace, rhythm and space. Every so often though there is a topic, a text, a thought, observation or issue that wants to find itself put into letters and sentences. I've resisted at times, enjoyed the freedom to drop it at others, and been happy to have the luxury of choosing. Cyberspace has its beauty and incredible potential. It has, my sociologist son tells me, an ancient social function: that of creating a reality of its own, needed for individual and collective health and balance. When the garden was in full green and growth and the balcony was inviting sitting at the keyboard felt like a waste of time, a loss of opportunity and missed beauty. Going virtual feels stupid when nature calls and a cool but warm enough evening with a nice wine in good company on the terrasse is just here.

As a bureaucrat I am spending too much time on the computer anyway. Away from books I'd like or I should read, away from people I'd like or should spend time with, away from the earth that feeds and sustains me. What for? Who cares in two weeks about the emails I have or have not written or read? Mailboxes fill way to quick and news get old in a blink. On the other hand, I love the beautiful blogs of creative friends and of perfect strangers. I also spent time on the web recently comparing prices for car insurance and for quality of vacuum cleaners, and I ordered a user's manual for the bread machine. Very convenient. - What if we had none of this, computers, cars, vacuum cleaners and bread machines? We'd still have friends, flowers, sunsets, and, with a little luck, squash and beans in the garden. All we need, really, to be alive and happy.

Mythic Abbaye de Bellelay

The monastery Bellelay was founded in the early 12th century. Legend has it that in 1136 Siginand, provost of the Moutier-Grandval was hunting wild bore in the area and got lost. He pledged to build a monastery in the case he made it back safely to Moutier. The monastery is the place of origin of the Tête de Moine and has a remarkable history. It is documented to have had an organ in the early 1600s and got a Bossard organ in 1720. The abbaye was occupied in 1797 by French military and has since suffered all kinds of uses, misuses and neglect. The furnishings were sold off. Since the 1960s the sanctuary is being used for exhibitions during summer but in 2008 a replica of the 1720 Bossard organ was inaugurated. I heard it today in a concert by Bernard Heiniger who played some of Bach's well known organ works on this fabulous instrument in this awesome place.

The power and beauty of generic sound, not amplified, by a hand-made instrument and in walls that go back almost 1000 years, is not only impressive. It is pure magic. Siginand, Bach, and Bossard, like other geniuses of all ages, used the means available at their time to make visible and audible the spiritus creator.

On seeing heaven

Yesterday Jane Stranz told her encounter with a tree, or more precisely, the beauty of a tree. And, really, not just of that tree. It's one of these instances when a life's moment takes on the quality of eternity and we are given a glimpse of heaven.

Beauty is not always visible to us. When I don't see it I easily conclude it's not there or not real. When I do see it, I know it's everywhere. It is beauty that overcomes violence, as a friend told be years ago when I asked her how she thought violence could be overcome.

It is in nurturing our capacity to see beauty that this world becomes a better place. That I'm sure about.

Virtues for a better world

The German Publik Forum Edition has published Leonardo Boff's 2006 trilogy Virtudes para um mundo possivel under the title Tugenden für eine bessere Welt. I have not come across an English version of this. Boff sees several virtues taking clearer shape and gaining profile around the world: hospitality, living together, respect, tolerance, eating together, a life in peace. It may be tempting to translate "convivência" with community, however, the French equivalent "convivialité" points to something else: being at ease with each other. Perhaps Boff points to what Jean Vanier describes as "fooling around at the dinner table". The three terms hospitality, living-together, eating together, all are closely related. Eating together (I like the German word "Tischgemeinschaft") is really what communion is all about, but Boff is not talking about the ritual as a sacred gesture. He is talking about world hunger and our relationship with food and with each other, or our relationship with each other over food. Hospitality has quite a lot to do with food, so does living together and food is essential to eating together as is relationship.

The other virtues Boff reflects on are respect and tolerance. Respect is being used today as a particular approach to violence prevention. Tolerance has come to be recognized today as perhaps not as primordial as it was seen in the 70s, but together with respect and care it makes for peaceful living.

Boff's book is a good reminder that the virtues that make for peace are not primarily to be preached but to be lived and to be discovered and celebrated in the imposing-demanding mix of performance, pleasure, profit and profiling.

The other crisis

Le Monde today, Tuesday, June 30, has a special section on the other f-crisis: the food crisis. This year, 2009, the number of hungry people on this planet grows beyond the 1 billion mark. Le Monde titles: The world in recession neglects the food crisis. Certainly the G-8 meeting coming up in a week's time, will again address that crisis, say heavy words and make big promises. As we know from experience, little happens thereafter. Le Monde reports that just about 10% of the promised aid was delivered since the last G-8 summit a little over a year ago.

Little is being done to correct the wrongs that create a financial world crisis. The financial villain gets jailed for 150 years. A strong sign that fraud is to be punished. Likewise, little is being done to correct the world's food crisis. The G-8 meet in Aguila where the recent earth quake happened. Symbols are important, so is the media effect.

What strikes me is that 50% of the world's hungry people are farmers, peasants. They are the ones close to the source, no? What can we do to reinstate the beauty and the pertinence of sustainable farming, both in the North and in the South? Sure, it was the war that destroyed subsistence farming in Southeastern Europe in the early 90s. Now it is the world's economy and obsession with fast profits that makes reconstruction of sustainable agriculture in the region impossible.

I grew up farming and I feel the vulnerability of the farmers around the world. Today, as I work in church bureaucracy and find out my project budget is slashed for the second half of the year, being reminded of the other crisis puts things in perspective. What to do?

UNESCO World Heritage: Le Locle and La Chaux-de-Fonds

Le Locle and La Chaux-de-Fonds are cities just above the 1000m altitude and in Geneva it is common to ask someone who is planning on going up there whether they have mounted the snow tires. It's not that bad, actually in winter it's beautiful because there is real white snow and it's often above the fog level. What made the two cities - Le Locle being smaller but older - make it onto the list of UNESCO's world heritage sites is their history - and legacy - of watch making. It's the cradle of watch making and thriving until the time when the Japanese took over with the transistor technology and Quarz watches. The Rabbi of La Chaux-de-Fonds told a catechism class I took to the local Synagogue some years ago that the Swiss watch was invented there but it was the Jewish community that took the watches around the world which made their reputation. Both the Jewish community and the watch making have become rather small. The city's international watch making museum is a fascinating place to visit.

La Chaux-de-Fonds has another interesting side to its history: the socialist and the pacifist movements were very strongly rooted there. Both Karl Marx and Mahatma Gandhi had connections and make references to La Chaux-de-Fonds. It seems both socialism and pacifism had, just as watch making, some golden years in the area. Churches and the media recognized the reality and significance of these movements. Elie Ducommun, born in Geneva and 1902 Nobel Peace Laurate, had his origins in La Chaux-de-Fonds.

Louis Chevrolet, the founder of Chevrolet cars was a child from La Chaux-de-Fonds, and his father was a watch maker. Le Corbusier was from La Chaux-de-Fonds, and according to legend, the inventor of the apéritif Suze, may have been from there as well, or, still according to legend, the apéritif got its name from the little river that has its spring in the valley just below La Chaux-de-Fonds. Fernand Moureaux, the founder of the company that makes Suze and which began in 1889 is said to have promised that the apéritif would flow in France just as la Suze in Switzerland. As far as I'm concerned, I like both, walks by la Suze and the drink. Suze, by the way is based on gentiane, which grows on rocky pastures in the area. And this year, 2009, Suze celebrates its 120th anniversary, along with the Eiffel tower, which features on the label of the first bottle of Suze, in honor of Gustave Eiffel - Santé! I just wish pacifism were as famous and common today as watches and Suze!

A victory for the climate and for Obama

So Obama won a crucial vote in Congress - narrowly, but he won and that makes his future possible and it's a boost for the future of the environment: reducing CO2 emissions by 17%. It's a victory for Obama's approach, vision and program, and it's a victory for the climate, for the world, and - to the contrary of what Republicans and Democrats who were opposed said, a victory for a more sustainable economy.

I have not followed this closely, nor am I an expert on the subject. What made me curious and what told me this was a crucial struggle, was the arguments the opponents brought forward: that this bill meant the end of the American economy, that it was going to create massive unemployment, and that it was entirely unpatriotic. Upon hearing such stuff I know Obama is right on and what at stake is essential.

Yet today, after this very significant development, CNN's home page is all about Michael Jackson. I had to go to BBC to find a headline about the bill on limiting emissions. That too says a lot about how much the environment and sustainability matter to the mainline media. The real good news are not easy to come by in today's media culture....

Impulse Solar

Today is the unveiling or presentation of Solar Impulse. It is an impulse indeed, and an inspiration, as it is meant to be, to a lot of people. Of course, Bertrand Piccard is for a good part the one who inspires with gentle, visionary and up-beat charisma. Yes we can applies very much to Piccard. Obviously the project, fabulous and fascinating as it may be, is not meant to show off the future of aircraft propelling, but precisely to inspire, to motivate and to raise awareness. For me, even though I know full well no aircraft I will ever travel in will be fuelled by solar power captured while on-flight, I find the project one of beauty and elegance.

Pierre Veya in Le Temps points out that birds - who everybody recognizes are way ahead of humans when it comes to flying - don't get their energy from the sun directly. Birds eat grains and use energy from sun and earth produced in sophisticated processes and stored in amazing crumbs.

Perhaps the most profound and teachable lesson of Solar Impulse is that we have still a long way to go until our aspirations, our entertainment and our business all are sustainable.

Meanwhile Switzerland's - and Europe's - plans and spending still banks on nuclear energy, which is an aberration of any sense of sustainability. Major international corporations invest mig time in projects to produce solar energy in the Sahara and sell it to Swiss mountain farmers and city dwellers.

There is one lesson nature teaches us, and it seems that investors, manufacturers, policy makers, and consumers aren't getting it: produce or capture energy where you are going to use it. That is, decentralized, local, small, sustainable. The future's blowin' in the wind - and in the sun.

The tragic confusion of war, conflict and violence

It is common in the media to find the word conflict when it actually is about war, real, physical, armed war. "Armed conflict" would be more accurate, since it may well be a conflict, but the real problem and disaster is the killing and destruction caused by weapons. The use of the term conflict is tragic and has devastating long term effect, because it reinforces an all too common misunderstanding which is that conflict is necessarily violent, negative, terrible and destructive. In fact the terms conflict and war have become pretty much interchangeable in the media. Just as in churches, sermons and general talk use the terms violence and conflict as being synonymous. The general sense is that conflict is bad and should be prevented just as violence. At the same time, the general assumption is that conflict breeds violence and more problematic still, that if there was no conflict there would be no violence. The fact that much of the violence happens not out of conflict but out of greed or thrill.

When will we learn that conflict is necessary and, more often than not, constructive. War is neither necessary nor constructive, ever. Recent findings in sociology suggest that it is more accurate to see violence as happening in the absence or real conflict. Violence happens before or after conflict is being recognized and "handled". Looked at from this perspective, violence could almost be seen as the opposite of conflict. The opposite of violence is not peace, but tenderness. War kills truth, conflict brings it to the fore. War distorts proportions, conflict helps set them straight. Violence makes dialogue impossible, conflict makes it necessary. War and violence are not the same, but the former is not possible without the latter. Conflict does not need violence, nor does violence necessarily emanate from conflict. But the suppression of the truth makes real conflict impossible and that may eventually lead to violence.

Think, imagine, resist!

Today a conversation on Swiss french radio "Espace 2" with Marie-Claire Caloz-Tschopp caught my attention. Caloz-Tschopp is the author of the book Résister en politique, résister en philosophie. Making extensive reference to Hannah Arendt, she reflects on the idea of the freedom and space for imagination, discussion and resistance.

This in particular caught my attention: Belonging is a condition for avoiding war and violence. However, belonging not simply to a mass of people, to a crowd, but to a community. I was thinking about the difference between a crowd and a community. Shopping centers attract crowds. Totalitarian regimes create masses that are all following the same ideologies and orders.

Totalitarism, whether fascist, religious or ultraliberal, erases the public space for reflection, because it is occupied by a person, logic, law, or ideology. Totalitarism kills thought and imagination. Caloz-Tschopp insists that discussion, sharing of opinions and the possibility of dissent is essential, in society as well as in the work place. That's what democracy is about, not democracy à la G.W. Bush, but power to the people.

The news these days are telling us about dissent, imagination, resistance. That's very encouraging indeed.

Hopeful Insubordination

MIR France, the French branch of the International Fellowship of Reconciliation (IFOR) published a book with a wonderful title "L'espérance insoumise" - Insubordinated hope. I love the title because I think I see in history - and these days - that where there is real hope there is insubordination. Subordination and hope don't go together well. Those who expect subordination and impose domination don't want change, whereas those who are looking for change and hope for it eventually end up refusing to be subordinated. That's a pattern throughout history.

The book talks about peace building, reconciliation, peaceful resistance. The hope is not only for change, but for lasting change away from domination. It is hope in the power of nonviolence and just peace. Whatever the suffering imposed on those who are insubordinate because they hope for a better future, their hopes will carry the day in the long run. They may loose today, but they will be proven right. That's real progress and nonviolence precisely builds on that. The crux on the road is really to have the courage to hope, because it means to have courage to not be subordinate. Isn't this what the beatitude about those who suffer for the sake of justice is referring to?

Violence prevention: driving a car is potentially violent

A World Health Organization (WHO) study reveals that nearly half of the deaths of road accidents are people not in a car: pedestrians, cyclists and motorcyclists, reports an alert issued today by the WHO's Violence and Injury Prevention department. The first global assessment of road safety reveals that about 1.27 Million people die in road accidents each year.

Interestingly, the WHO violence and injury prevention are part of the same effort and are considered public health issues. In some way, casualties in traffic accidents also are victims of a kind of violence and the recent study documents that the more vulnerable ones that are the more likely victims.

Both kinds of violence, the one caused by road traffic and the one caused by relational incidents, are preventable, the WHO motto says. I would add that prevention is not rocket science, but it requires honesty and willingness to change. Appeals and statements won't prevent effectively.

For me, not carrying a gun ever and refusing to engage in physical or verbal violence are principles. It gets more complicated when it comes to structural violence or to driving a car: I try to be nonviolent, but do I underestimate my indirect participation in indirect violence and exposure to potential violence? Perhaps I can begin by acknowledging that driving a car per se is not fully compatible with living gently.

Symbolic food or fake reality?

Recently I was compelled repeatedly to reflect on the estrangement of communion from its original and real function (just as foot washing is estranged, but hardly practised): It struck me that communion, which gerenally comes at the end of the service, is proclaimed by inviting people to the table of the Lord which is generously set, and afterwards people rush home to have a real meal. Jesus' last supper with his disciples may have been symbolic, but it was a real meal and so was communion in the first generation church. People came to eat to their hunger and they celebrated the communion in the power of the risen Christ. Likewise, the washing of the feet was a common gesture with not only real meaning but real function. Both actions, as gestures and symbols carry beautiful meaning and perhaps power. My contradictory take on this is that while I think that foot washing may promote community and forgiveness, I feel we should reconsider communion or Eucharist as a merely symbolic "meal". For it is no real meal, no real food, we only pretend to have a meal and to eat together. And that's aside from the fact that often the symbolic act is done in a dark, overly sober or sad atmosphere, as if we were reminiscing eternal tragedy. Yet the Lord's table, to which believers are invited, thank God, in reality is rich and full. It is joyful and challenging, conversational and truthful. There is much more than the meager, thin, tasteless and dry bite which could not be further from really nourishing us. Some of our traditions have a sip of wine or juice - again, never enough to quench our thirst after a long and perhaps dry service in a hot room. Why are we not getting real? Perhaps that would be too challenging, to painful, too much breaking our habits of avoiding each other, avoiding truth, relegating reconciliation?

Jesus didn't say to his disciples, eat and drink symbolically, then go home and eat and drink for real. Jesus said, every time you do this - eating and drinking, do it remembering me. Sure, the last supper was the passover meal and as such, symbolic as well. Still, it was for real. Perhaps it is no accident that churches celebrate it only symbolically, pretending to share bread and wine. For in reality, do they really want to share bread and wine? Do they really want to break down the walls and barriers? Do they really want to set in motion the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth? Pretending is so much easier. You don't have to change. You can still feel good. At least you are forgiven and you are not alone. That's a whole lot to get already in a heart breaking, violent world. But is it enough? It is what the church claims to proclaim and to be?

I know, a lot of churches do - occasionally - eat together for real. After having celebrated communion. Eating together is a central and essential part of being human in the world. People eat together with their loved ones, their friends. And occasionally with strangers or those they would not call their friends. In the heavenly world, when friends don't have time to come to the table to celebrate, the strangers, the poor, the undignified ones, get invited. For a real meal, not for pretending. They love it. Speaking of which, that did create some substantial conflict in the early church. The conflict was addressed in a way that has proven sustainable to this day.

Let the church be the church - real and authentic, embodied and tangible. Real people, real food, real sharing, real change. Real faith and real community, wich laughter and tears.

Living Gently in a Violent World

I'm not sure anymore how I got the book, but it was on one of my piles at the office or at home and I decided to read it, knowing expectations were appropriate when the authors names are Jean Vanier and Stanley Hauerwas. What made me curious however, was the fact that these two names were on the same book cover.

I love the book. It points in a direction which is for a good part opposite of current Christian corporate culture.

Jean Vanier's simplicity and honesty; his ease with and attention to basics in life, laughter, crazyness, people who are labelled as disabled yet are beautiful in their capacity to laugh, love, cry, be angry or celebrate.

Stanley Hauerwas' writing is somewhat more complex - he's a theologian. Marked strongly by John Howard Yoder's thinking and challenges, Hauerwas has a capacity and passion to challenge the church and that's good.

A quote by Vanier that struck me: "I'm not interested in doing a good job. I'm interested in an ecclesial vision for community..."

Living Gently in a Violent World; The Prophetic Witness of Weakness; Stanley Hauerwas & Jean Vanier; IVP Books, Downer's Grove, IL 2008

Foot washing

The Ekklesia daily email bulletin from June 8 tells the story of a former apartheid chief washing the feet of those he says he wronged. That gesture, beautiful for some, biblical for some, outdated and weird for others, is a compelling sign of forgiveness and of justice, tangible and real. 

In my tradition - Mennonite and Amish - foot washing was a regular part of community and worship. The Amish practise it to this day and some Mennonite communities do so, even some very modern, or post-modern ones, who do it as an occasional special service. I have participated in some foot washing services and have every time experienced it as really meaningful, quietly joyful, and authentic service to each other, in the name of Christ.

I recall one such service when a highly placed church administrator - yes, even the non-hierarchical Mennonites have such positions - offered to wash the feet of a young boy who was  known to be in trouble every so often and even if you didn't know you could tell from his face that he felt troubled. This boy's face was shining as he washed the feet of the smart man who had been the famous preacher that morning.

Some people might feel weird or disgusted at the thought of having to look at, let alone touch some person's feet who is not their friend. Or letting someone wash and dry your feet, when you'd rather not enter in personal discussion with that person. In contrast to mid-Eastern times of Jesus, foot washing today has absolutely no hygienic significance; we're all glad that the people serving us food or shaking our hands have washed their hands. So foot-washing is entirely symbolic, just as communion is, estranged from its original function which was real and useful. Foot washing I would maintain is a symbol of forgiveness and acceptance. Mutual, non-pretending and real. The fact is, while it is not needed for cleaning our feet really, it actually does create a gentle but strong sense of acceptance. That boy was, at least for the moment of the ceremony, totally forgiven for whatever he might have missed or messed up, and he must have felt so, probably far beyond that morning.  And who knows what mark it left on his spiritual and moral memory.

The end of Enlightenment and the future of the church

The national catholic weekly America's 100th anniversary edition has a fabulous article by Timothy Radcliffe. It speaks my heart about the perspectives of the church, current and future. I won't try to summarize it here (I'd rather translate it into German perhaps), but what struck me particularly were two things, related of course: "Some of the thought patterns (of Enlightenment) locked the church in narrow places, cramped her into ideological positions that have not always helped the church to flourish." Radcliffe says the end of Enlightenment and the emergence of a new world, which we all can testify to, although too often without knowing what to make of it, may offer new opportunities to the church, beyond the dichotomy of tradition vs progress.

The other thing that struck a cord I've been playing for awhile, is about preaching vs conversation. Radcliffe: "Teaching about Jesus Christ is necessarily dialogical, because he was a man of conversation." It will be a wonderful day when going to church means engaging in conversation and not mostly be subject of being preached at. I say that, being a preacher myself, while most of my best friends don't go to church much precisely because of that.

Radcliffe's hopeful and revolutionary perspective is my sermon of hope this weekend.

On waiting

Yesterday when I arrived at the doctor's office I found the waiting room jammed full so I prepared myself for a long wait. Of course there are magazines. Of course I have my iPhone and there is always something interesting happening on Facebook. I didn't touch a magazine and yes, I did open Facebook, for a little while, until I began to reflect on the meaning, challenge and beauty of waiting. I updated by status: Waiting is a significant activity in life and to benefit from the "empty" time of waiting is a gift." A put my iPhone away and began to be still, sensing the calm and not so empty air of waiting. Sure, I was not the only one waiting and at least one other person was sitting still, unoccupied and unbothered nor bored. I felt like seizing the moment, the luxury of waiting. I remembered a colleague who worked in Africa for years describing the reality of waiting for the bus, which countless people do every day, for long stretches and without complaining. I remember he said after a long time he began to overcome the nervousness about the time wasted and discovered the beauty and calmness of waiting. I also recalled people I know talking about the endless hours or days of waiting in the army. Today I think waiting there had a dimension of drill. Creating sufficient dullness so people are ready to do whatever destruction of killing is demanded of them.

The best part, in spite of my having a time constraint that afternoon (and it worked all out perfectly fine), was the sense of having no rush, no stress, no pending thing, no impatience whatsoever. An hour really and completely free of any of that stuff. It felt like a blessing of quietness, stillness with nothing to perform or to proof, not even the activity of impatience.

I think there are essentially three ways to wait: A common way is to let the nerves be stretched; is perhaps the most common way, especially in situations where waiting is not expected. Another way is to keep yourself busy with all kinds of useful, necessary or useless occupations, physical or mental. The third, less common but most beneficial way if you ask me, is to empty your mind, quiet your body and be still. In our day and context this seems to have become a rare gift for most and I'm really worried here that its frequency increases for me.

Oh yes, the other thing I did with my iPhone was to check out my new decibel application. I discovered that the average noise level at the waiting room was around 60. That's far from still but it did not bother me. I recalled my professor at the conservatory who told us about how he studied the scores of the Christmas Oratorio in the trenches of WWII, and he heard the music all over and above the noise of shells, aircraft and shouting around him.

Finally, we have managed to turn even those times of intentional waiting into performances and activities with outcomes: prayer and worship. But let's not go there right now. Let's wait a little.

The beauty of messiness

The Swiss are known to be orderly, to have an obsession with keeping things tidy. You can see that when you cross small towns and villages in some areas. Messiness tends to be seen here as a heresy, as a sign of poor personality or bad morale. Some pastor once told a young member of his church that the mess in his car pointed to a screwed relationship with Jesus. I guess some people feel that way about this guy to this day - he is an artist and an extraordinarily creative person, and, in his way, a messy one.

Of course there are those in Swiss counter culture - and elsewhere - who seem to think that for things to be alive, creative or healthy they had to be messy in an unpleasant way. It may be that for some people ugliness is synonymous with wholeness, but I feel the other way around. Except that messiness and ugliness are two entirely different things altogether.

That's what the surroundings of my house are compellingly reminding me of these days. What a beautiful mess! I'm not talking about objects left asunder by people who don't care about them or forgot to put them away. That's ugly and I can see it in my neighborhood, too. I'm talking about the stuff that seems to appear from almost bare brownish, rocky and rather uninspiring mud. The only thing after snow are some half rotten leafs and stems, as if the wind had forgotten to blow them away, or they were not good enough for the snails or the worms. Behold, before the snow was all gone, the first flowers appeared, white and strong yellow, and before you know it the entire surface is green of all imaginable sorts. The only thing I don't tolerate are nettles, not here. And yes, I will pull some greens that seem to overrule the wild strawberries which taste so exquisit. Of course, there are the parts and patches where things are planted, raspberries, potatoes, beans, zucchini and other vegetables. As much as these are enjoyable and bring satisfaction - even if the cost of seed and the time of tending are in no reasonable correlation to the harvest - the greatest beauty by far is in the messy parts around the house where nature has free reign. The regenerating power and forgiving mercy of nature is truly amazing. Nature is not obsessed with unceasing growth and non-stop accumulation. Nature is cyclic: birth and unfolding, growth, abundance, even wastefulness, decline and death to rest and to leave time for a fresh beginning, as amazing and joyful as before, never exactly the same twice and yet in continuity and honoring what was before, producing the seed of what will come thereafter. In all of this colors and consistence keep changing, as do flavors and tastes. All of it is in ongoing interaction with other plants, insects, bees, and other living things.

Peace is not tidy and orderly. Nor is it fully in our control. It is messy and confusing as nature. I love my messy, beautiful and peaceful patches. They warm my heart and cool my head. Inspire the body and energize the spirit. Organic disorder and so alive...

International Year of Reconciliation

2009 is the International Year of Reconciliation, proclaimed by the UN upon an initiative from Nicaragua. The Martin Luther King Institute at UPOLI (a technical university run by the Baptists in Managua) in 1997 initiated efforts culminating in the UN decision in 2006. It takes nearly 10 years to bring a project to the UN for decision and 12 years from the conception of a project until its actual implementation. However, the vision and timeliness of the MLK Institute is stunning: Back in 1997, reconciliation as a theme, although applied in South Africa with mixed but mostly positive results, was not ready for the international political arena and the UN system - or better, the political arena and UN system were not ready for reconciliation as a theme then. Nor had reconciliation made its entry into the vocabulary of political parties. Now they seem to be closer, as many signs indicate, from Canada to Angola and elsewhere across the globe. Stalin's motto was to divide and rule, as was generally the practice, also by Western nations. Uncounted communities in Africa, Latin America and Asia still suffer from the late symptoms of Western colonial imperialism and Jean Ziegler's book on the hatred against the West is a powerful testimony of that reality. It is truly frightening when you consider the possibilities of a pay-day for the nations if the old regime of pacification through violence, division, oppression, and merciless rule were to continue. The Taliban push in Pakistan is an unpleasant indication of such rule at its worst being still and again alive and attractive to some.

At the same time - thank God because who could claim credit? - there is a sense and discovery that what might heal the world and allow for productivity, welfare, and peace is the road of reconciliation. Churches can't say, see, we've always known, because they were too often too much part and accomplices of the divide-and-rule regimes. Their time has expired and that's good news indeed. The tide is turning and it is turning in favor of those who seek reconciliation and justice.

Here's where we find a thorn in the flesh, though: it happens easily and quickly that justice gets in the way of reconciliation or vice-versa, depending on whom you ask. There is no easy way out and any quick or cheap fix will not do. At least there have to be two more ingredients: truth and mercy. None of which come easily, neither in politics nor in the church.

Meanwhile we continue the journey - reconciliation is a long and winding road -towards a more humane and less deadly world....

The Courage of the Truth

Michel Foucault, who described himself as a historian of ideas, or an archeologist of knowing (archéologue des savoirs), entitled his last course at the Collège de France "Le courage de la vérité" - the courage of the truth. It is on governance of self and of others and I suspect it has a lot to say in today's crisis, which is really not a financial crisis. Just as there is hardly such a thing as financial crisis of an institution, is is always a crisis of essence and of pertinence, the world's so-called financial crisis is one of truth and governance. Call it systemic, if that's precise enough.

I have not read (yet) the 1984 course by Foucault, which was published recently, but I can't wait to, except I'm afraid of its demanding character, content and style. Whatever Foucault said about himself, about philosophy and whatever people say about Foucault, I sense he was kind of a prophet, speaking the truth. If I have it right, his explanation for the failure of the old Greek democracy was that truth-speaking was not possible. To me that sounds strangely familiar, as I think of institutions, including churchly ones, and society at large.

Affaire à suivre....

Crucifying dynamics

Listening to St Matthew's account of the events leading up to the death of Jesus, I am struck again at the dynamics so well known and at work up to our day: the opportunism of politicians, the arrogance and cynicism of religious leaders, the hysteric and manipulated masses, a hand full of terrified people who have tasted the truth - and a couple of women sensitive to justice and truth.

There can hardly be enough meditation of this, taking turns in identifying with the disciples, with Jesus, with Pilate, then with Peter, then with the maid, and with Jesus again. The God-forsakenness is to be found in the dynamics and the rolling event in itself.

HOLY WEEK VIGIL AT CREECH AIR FORCE BASE

Over at his Peace Probe blog Gene Stoltzfus talks about how he and others spend holy week at an air force base. Gene ends his posting with this:

Like the chaplains, all of us who claim faith are invited to reach deep into the wealth of our traditions that are built on the ethics of love and discern what our responses can be in this new age of digital warfare. We will be further enabled to do this when our religious support structures - churches, denominations and institutions - also reach deep into the humanizing and peaceful resources of holy tradition. The desert here in Indian Springs, Nevada where native people once came for water to sustain life, is waiting for the transformation inherent in our faith.

Magnum Mysterium

One of my best discoveries in music recently was a CD dedicated to the memory of Ingmar Bergman. I found it in the bookshop of the Bose Monastery, which by the way is a most beautiful place and community. The beauty of Magnum Mysterium fits perfectly with the beauty of Bose. Jan Lundgren, grand piano and keyboards, and Lars Danielsson, bass and cello, with the Gustaf Sjökvist Chamber Choir have created a treasure of sacred choral music intertwined with the rhythm and harmony of jazz.

Ingmar Bergman said of himself that he was not a believer, "yet I believe that music has been given to us to give us a glimpse of realities and worlds beyond the one we are living in."

Jesus the incapable manager

The recent issue of Neue Wege - Beiträge zu Religion und Sozialismus* - right, the socialist ideal is not dead - features an interview Ina Praetorius did with Alphonse-Marie Bitulu from Kinshasa, who wrote a book entitled "Jésus, le mauvais gestionnaire" - Jesus, the incapable manager. The title and approach intrigue me. It points to a discrepancy of an ever more managed church and christian or religious service which at the same time often seems to drown in dilettantism and mismanagement. But the myth that good (today meaning results-based) management automatically yields good results grows steadily and threatens to suffocate true vision, creativity and authentic care for each other.

By the way, Bitulu wrote the book in the late Mobutu years, that's quite a while ago. He tells Praetorius that he was pressured to put a question mark behind the title, or change it. Bitulu has written other books, none of which were published because he does not have the means...

* Neue Wege Nr 9, 2009

Snow and flowers

On Monday morning I visited a lonely elderly farmer in the Jura. As I drove up to his house he stood on a heap of snow that had come down from the roof and shoveled some of it off, so it would not block the view from the kitchen window. Upon my arrival he stepped down and showed me the other side of the old farm house - at least one meter of snow still. Then yesterday as I walked out of the Geneva train station I was surprised by a range of shining daffodils in full bloom, strong and tall. Now this morning as I walked out of the house - it is below the Jura farm but higher up than Geneva - I found crocus and perce-neige, literally: snow-drills by the house - they had appeared over night just as soon as the snow was gone.

The contrast between the Jura mountains and Geneva is striking this year. My friends up there must wait weeks before they can plant, while down below the planting season is off to a quick start. Nature is curious, strange, surprising, eccentric, persistent, strong. It can't be fooled, but it fools us regularly. It has done so many times this past winter, which up here is not quite over yet. I love snow - the more the better and it doesn't bother me that it brings high-tech civilization to a halt once in a while. There is something very reassuring and comforting in natures "caprices" in times where so much is intended, assumed or pretended to be under control. Essentially things made by humans are not so much under control as they are hectic, pretentious and incapable of producing real and profound comfort.

Poverty and Paradise

Yesterday I was at the House of Religions in Bern - a wonderful place where cultures and religions meet, where people of different faith traditions get to know each other and understand something more about each other. I find the place beautiful primarily because it makes me realize and appreciate the beauty in the other's life and history, and I assume the same happens to others. I attended a meeting of Ecumenical Accompaniers, who spent several weeks or months in Israel and Palestine. That in itself is worth a book of blogs. As I arrived at the House of Religions my eyes were drawn to a brochure "Armut und Paradies" - Poverty and Paradise. An intriguing pair of terms, and that at the House of Religions. The exhibit ponders the notions of poverty and paradise in different cultures and religions. The brochure also prepared me mentally for the meeting with the EA's - people who I regard as Saints - they gave time and themselves to a people living mostly in utter poverty in a land where the idea or perspective of paradise has been present for ages. Contrasts, complexities, terror and beauty all at once. Paradise is not exactly what comes up in the context of Gaza. But I'm fascinated and intrigued by the pairing of the terms poverty and paradise.

Tourism, cathedrals and communion

Yesterday Sunday as we arrived at the Notre Dame de Paris it was just time for mid-day mass and we sat down to take part in the service. A few days earlier I learned incidentally that the Notre Dame is the most visited place in Paris, before the Louvre or the Sacré Coeur. What does that say about the significance of sacred buildings in the city? At the Hamburg University there is a project "Church and the City", if I recall the name correctly, that does research on the roles of church buildings in cities. What is it that makes people want to visit church buildings? Notre Dame is  very crowded and the steady flow of visitors and tourists does not prevent mass from happening and the powerful organ by far out-sounds the blurry noise of the crowd. 

What struck me was the instruction on participation in the Eucharist: the french text said something like "if you share our faith in the presence of Christ as we have communion you are invited to participate", the English and German instructions said explicitly that unless you share the belief that Christ is present in the bread, you are asked to abstain from partaking. We decided spontaneously that we were French speaking, which we are indeed....

Partaking in communion with many strangers of all kinds of walks of life while a crowd oft tourists slowly walk around as in a non-declared procession was special and indeed beautiful.

I must admit, however, that I found the sanctuary of the Sacré Coeur more dignified and more inspiring, even if the service which was going on there during our visit Monday morning felt less authentic and more routine. Contradictions of churches as public spaces that also are tourist attractions....

Wrong-sided people

For my birthday last fall I was given a book entitled "Histoire des gauchers  - Des gens à l'envers" by Pierre-Michel Bertrand (Imago). Dislocating and fracturing my left shoulder joint and arm reminded me that I was in fact left-handed. I have a vague and unpleasant recollection from age 4 or 5, sitting with my sister at a children's table at home, drawing. Suddenly the maid stopped by and abruptly pulled the crayon from my hand - I actually seem to still feel how she yanked it out from above of my left hand, yelling, that's bad, you are not allowed to draw with your left hand! This happened more than once, I must have finally yielded, because I don't recall being told at school that I must not write with my left hand. Now that my left hand was disabled, I realized I did most everything other than writing with my left hand: washing my face, shaving, washing dishes, pulling something out of somewhere etc. 

I began to think about how the forced switch to the right hand might have affected me. Being left handed was regarded for centuries and until the generation of my children as weird at best, and evil at worst. Bertrand cites Quevedo: "Left-handed people can't do anything right, they are wrong-sided people of whom one wonders whether they are actually people." 

So being left-handed is one thing. Having to switch and pretend to be right-handed is another thing. Reading Betrands book makes me realize how much humanity has come to be more humane, more accepting. That's what I call real progress. That comfort is good enough to let me stop wondering about how much damage was done to my poor soul when I was five. Except that it does help me forgive myself for feeling weird sometimes, for being routinely confused about what's left and what's right, and generally just ticking a little differently from plain people. - What's wrong about not being plain? Today I solemnly affirm: left is beautiful! And actually, being "à l'envers" has its charm...

On love and winter in the Jura

On Friday night we enjoyed in the small but real theater Biel-Bienne the opera Amadis by Jean-Baptist Lully. Lully was the King's favored composer, much more appreciated and spoiled than his colleague Bach in Germany, whose music was much more complicated, less pleasant and covered a much, much wider spectrum both in rhythm, harmony and structure. Of course Amadis is about the unmatched love, about its foes, troubles and ultimate victory. A favored theme not only at the King's palace in France, but ever before and since and anywhere else.

This time in Bienne, Lully's Opera had been rearranged to incorporate some modern, jazzy parts, a little like Play-Bach, very capably performed by the soloists and the choir. Playful and funny, not without some pointed sarcasm while still being beautiful in its way to expand Lully's go-rounds whose pleasantness may get boring after a while. The performance began in a Restaurant near the theatre, where Amadi's death was being announced and the funeral initiated. Amadis is a star (sure, after having triumphed over the forces of evil, hatred and lies. 

By the way, there is an interesting occurrence of wordplays about the preference of truthfulness over faithfulness, and about the saving power of continuity (Beständigkeit) - as in a variation of faithfulness, which in Hollywoodian philosophy about love has become a somewhat shallow concept.

Back to Amadis: as is usual in the community of followers, the star is being celebrated and I joked to my brother-in-law who sings in the choir, that what he would have fled by all means in the church he now did in the theatre: singing a hymn to the hero with arms swinging up in the air as in charismatic worship. - Gathered in the tiny and beautiful, intimate theatre then the life of Amadis was being performed. Just a great enjoyable and amusing few moments.

We had spent the week on the farm, out in the countryside of the Franches-Montages, where fox and rabbit say good-night to each other - literally - and where the seasons consist of six months of winter and four months of cold. What fascinates, captures, comforts and encourages me there is the calm, the peacefulness, the self-evidence of nature and its "caprices", its uneven weather. The spirit blows where it wills, and so does the wind in the Jura. You wake up in the morning and go first to the window to see how much snow there is and whether it's blowing again - or still. First you don't want to go outside, you enjoy the coziness of the fireplace, the warmth of the house, the smell of morning milk coffee, the salty-smooth taste of tête-de-moine. Then, once you're outside, it's just and plain beautiful. The comforting beauty and continuity of unpredictability in exactly what the trees will look like, and the road, and the fields. And the steadfast calm of pine trees,  heavy with snow and withstanding the wind, bending over and back. A parable for life, mending in with the truth of love. Grace and beauty....

Hatred or progress

Last night while driving I listened to a program on Espace 2 about de-colonisation in Cameroun (Histoire vivante). It was very stormy outside, half snow half rain, and tons of snow blowing down from trees and I began to feel sick - then I realized it was the stories and voices of Western colonial masters and the excruciating disregard to human rights and dignity that made me feel sick. At the same time it was enlightening to hear about differences in legacies of colonialism. Recently I was reading Jean Ziegler's "La haine de l'occident". The demands for reparation is a real but relatively minor issue when you consider the wrongs done by Western arrogance to people all over the world. The West's favored vilains are Stalin, Hitler and Pol Pot. Yet it seems that it may be brought to realize that its own modern and post-modern ways has created as many victims in as cruel ways as those by well known dictators. Sure it's different, but one of the key elements of the distain found in non-Western cultures are the Western double-standards. The financial crisis may very well be a contribution in enlightening the world on how real progress is being hindered by greed, arrogance, and double-standards. Violence in short, not necessarily physical, but by neglect, deprivation and pressure or threats.

I do believe that real progress is possible when people both in the North, West, South and East realize they depend on each other and develop real regard and respect for each other, putting that before national or corporate interests.

Goods vs People

This weekend the Swiss people vote on whether or not to extend the European Union's freedom of movement for workers to Bulgaria and Romania. In principle this extension is a natural part of the Swiss agreements with the EU, of which Switzerland is unnaturally not a member, but has to negotiate its inter-dependence piece by piece. Some young Zealots have succeeded in demanding a referendum on this extension of free movement. They claim that crime will go up and unemployment, while the Swiss welfare system would be undermined. At the writing of this there is solid and increasing evidence that the referendum fails and that the extension of freedom of movement will prevail. Sigh...

In 1992 the Swiss had voted not to become a part of the European Economic Space and it cost them a very high prize. I for one am convinced that Swissair would never have been grounded, had the Swiss decided otherwise in 1992. Be that as it may, the stubborn pretention that we're better of when left alone and sealed of from the others - which of course is never real because those who pretend so always use "foreign" factory workers, laws, lands, and potential to increase their market share - but that stubborn pretention is like an old myth of an self-sufficient and self-contained island. We have goods, we don't need people, especially not those who are different from us. 

Today's sermon at my church was on Ecclesiastes (Kohelet) 2: the writer describes his unlimited wealth, his conquest of "all the women a man can want", fabulous gardens and unmatched knowledge. He says he had it all and was happy, except that when nothing further was there to be had, he fell into a deep depression. A further look at the book reveals a striking absence of any mention of people as in relationships. This guy had all the slaves and women (sic!) one could possibly have. People were part of his amassed and hoarded goods. Unlike JHWE who, at the completion of creation observed that "it was very good", this poor rich man at the completion of his kingdom realized that it was all in vain, no good and for naught. - Why? Because it never occurred to him that it is not goods but relationships that make sense in life. The Western crisis is not so much in the crashing of its financial system as it is in its preference of goods and services over people and relationships.

In that perspective the outcome of this weekend's Swiss referendum is a hopeful indication. It seems that after all we're not completely stupid.

Simone Weil born in 1909

Simone Weil, anarchist, philosopher, factory worker at Renault and writer was born 100 years ago. Her story touches me profoundly and increases my wondering and pondering of the relationship between identity, truth, self-realization, and sacrifice. The trajectory of Simone Weil is most fascinating. In order to be able to speak and write with integrity about the plight of factory workers in production lines, she took a job at Renault. As a philosopher she was in search of living truthfully rather than simply looking for self-fulfillment. Her search and journey led her onto a path of spirituality and an encounter with Christ. 

Looking at Simone Weil's story leaves me intrigued about at least two things:

1. Why it is that she seems to have gone practically unnoticed und unknown in Christianity and the Church. - Well, of course Anarchists never had any real place in the church.

2. What is her message in a time where Christianity disappears, to use the words of Emmanuel Todd, and where at the same time churches hold on tight to traditional theology and institutional faith; in a time when dogmatic theology and informal spirituality confront each other.

Personally I am challenged by Simone Weil's insistence to live in truth. The truth makes you free....

You may want to check out this Simone Weil website

It's time for pacifism!

War is, at first, the hope that one will be better off; next, the expectation that the other fellow will be worse off; then, the satisfaction that he isn't any better off; and, finally, the surprise at everyone's being worse off. 

Karl Kraus (1874-1936) Austrian writer. He was the most critical, satirical and scathing intellectual in Vienna at the beginning of the 20th century. He condemned the failings of the middle classes and of hallowed artistic and literary media. 

With Barack Obama's election we have a great deal of reason to expect that war will further loose credibility in our world.  That it will be further discredited as a means to achieve whatever legitimate or illegitimate interests a nation, government, group or movement might pursue. I recently visited with a group the library of the small town La Chaux-de-Fonds in the Jura Neuchâtelois, a city above 1000m altitude, supposedly the highest in Europe. It is known as the watch making capital - Geneva only became famous for watches since there is air traffic and since the luxurious segment has gained significance. La Chaux-de-Fonds is not only the cradle of clock-making (it has an interesting museum of watch making) - aside from having one of the best coffee breweries if you ask me - is is the home of Le Corbusier, of Louis Chevrolet, and of the guy who invented the tasty apéritif Suze, and it was also a hub of the anti-war movement of the 19th and the early 20th century. Mahatma Gandhi visited and was in correspondence with the movement. That movement had significant political clout. Albert Gobat from Tramelan (also a watch making town) and Elie Ducommun from Geneva, were co-winners of the Nobel Peace  Prize in 1902. Gobat was a successful lawyer and was a member of the Swiss parliament and eventually the leader of the International Peace Bureau. The pacifist movement was well connected and represented in politics. For bios see the Nobelprize site

It seems that with and after the two world wars, pacifism lost profile and pacifists came to be seen as illusionists whom you could not trust. You could trust generals and bankers. Has the time come for a re-emergence of pacifism as a real, politically correct and credible way forward in the 21st century? We have reasons to hope so - and we better do what we can to make it happen!

9 Things of Life Upside-Down

Nine Virtues: Justice, Tenderness, Truthfulness, Openness, Humor, Consideration, Forbearance, Kindness, Attentiveness

Eight Beauties: Mountains, Elderly People, the Human Body, Singing, Stars in Clear Sky, Trees, Sunset, Birds

Seven Blessings: Children, Water, Warmth, Light, Sleep, Rest, Companions

Six Challenges: Conflicts, Crisis, Relationships, Work, Frugality, Decisions

Five Gifts: Friendship, Colors, Peace, Dreams, Grace

Four Pleasures: Music, Dining, Sex, Encounters

Three Oneness: the Source, the Embodiment, the Power

Two Realities: Yes and No

One Truth: Love is Matchless

Five reasons why Jesus could NOT have been a Mennonite

1. He never held any membership in a congregation
2. He was not keen about committees
3. He didn't try to please everyone in his community
4. His relationship with women is a matter of discussion
5. He incited people to drink wine when they had actually had enough

Five reasons why Jesus could have been an Anabaptist

1. He was baptized as a grown-up
2. He didn't impose his views on anyone and was still killed for them
3. He refused to use violence, even against those who threatened him
4. He was critical of authorities and government
5. He hung out with people who were to be avoided

It's complicated and beautiful

Quite some time ago I decided I wanted to have a blog. The complications began right away and they are telling of my story: should I do it in English, which is the language of my professional world and that of many good friends of mine? Should I do it in French, my daily language at home and with my children? Or do I want to do it in German, the language of my parents, siblings, community and many more friends? I live with several worlds, perhaps in between, sometimes at the margins, often in overlap, and it's always a little complicated. 

I've come to see this complication as beautiful although it's at times a pain. It's not about grammar and words, or rarely; it's about cultures and perspectives, experiences, stories and ways of life - and mostly ways of communicating. 

I grew up German speaking in a predominantly French environment. When I visited my cousins in the German speaking part of the country, I was amazed to hear perfect strangers talk in German to their children. I grew up with a sense of belonging to a minority and it took me about 30 years to realize that sense had become a part of who I am, wherever I went and whatever I did. I was never completely and perfectly "one of them". And that betrays me, doesn't it: "them". So in a way my aspiration always oscillates around wanting to be one of them and at the same time wanting to be different from them. 

Learning to see and feel complexity - diversity - as beautiful and dignified is a long journey.  Not being afraid of it, outside and within, that's part of coming to be at peace. Identity can be pluralistic, manyfold, diverse. Perhaps that's why I was drawn early on into peacemaking....