Respect for Leaders

Well, it has been a while (not that anyone has noticed :-) but now suddenly I am inspired again! So, here it is:

The saga around Congressman Joe Wilson calling President Obama a liar was in the news, but even more so the response to the whole thing is quite amazing.

I am quite a fan of "West Wing" - even though I initially (naively) believed it was a vision of how the country wanted to be, and have realised that even if things were that good (which in some senses they are with President Obama), I still wouldn't be entirely satisfied (then again, who would ever be "entirely satisfied" with the state of a country, the things I say! But I digress). One of the scenes which made quite an impression on me was when President Bartlett (played by Martin Sheen) was considering whether to give Debbie Fiderer (played by Lily Tomlin) the job as his personal assistant. The exact details are a bit hazy but the point which struck me was that despite the fact that she had written a letter of protest to a previous President, she had still shown respect for the office, but referring to "Mr. President.

This made an impression on me, and even in our own country, where we now have a President which was under investigation for corruption prior to his taking office, and who also was tried for rape (and found not guilty), but who will remain infamous for saying that he believed a shower was sufficient to protect him from HIV infection! (Following on which, he was always recognisable in cartoons by our most well-known political cartoonist Zapiro, by the showerhead attached to his head). But the man is now my President, and even Zapiro, out of respect for that position, made a great show of removing the showerhead (even if it does hover above his head in most cartoons, a bit like a halo of sorts). That might not have gone as far as some would have liked, but it was still a show of respect on the part of Zapiro.

Then we come to the "you lie" incident. I have to say that I am disappointed! Even under the presidency of George W. I thought that there was still some semblance of respect (although what do I know?), but for a Congressman, during a speech in the House to yell such a thing, shows, as he admits himself, a complete lack of self-control, and I daresay, self-respect. That is one thing, the show of support however is something else, and it is astounding to me how much emotion the Health Bill seems to have invoked in the US. What scares me even more is wondering how many "christians" are the ones who are supporting Wilson and doing the heckling themselves. Like Sarah Palin's emotional rather than factual comments about "death panels". I have to be honest and say that it is "christians" like that who make me ashamed of the label!

Guys, just remember, the Bible clearly says we should pray for our leaders, and render to caesar what is caesar's. I do not understand how you can react emotionally and disrespectfully for someone you pray for. Even politics and legislation is a bit like the Bible: though we see through a glass darkly (it's not easy to fully understand everything). But I think the point that I am making is that perhaps it is time to grow up, and remember that we're to live in the spirit, not in the flesh (or by emotions), and that is what will make us a good fragrance to God. Though I may not always be able to live up to it myself, this saga with Congressman Wilson has made me think about how that fragrance is about respecting leaders, and where we strongly believe that they are not doing God's will, to pray, and when acting, act in respect, for they too are the creation of God.

Poem for FSD

I started the year with a bit of an enthusiasm for poetry, putting together a schedule of sorts so that I read some poetry on a weekly basis. It has fallen away in the last while, but occasionally one has a moment.

I am also currently subscribed to the Times Literary Supplement, and they publish some poems in each edition.

In an edition I read this week (from May 29th) there was a poem by C.J. Driver, which made me think of a special person in my life (who I am currently trying to evict from my heart, and the success varies). I would ordinarily have sent it to him, but as I am trying to rid myself o him in my affections have decided to go this route instead!

Anyway, the reason why this poem makes me think of him is that he is a man with issues, and perhaps one of them is that his mother was pregnant before him, so in his own mind, he is not quite the firstborn. I would have like the chance to ask, to understand, but until he is out from under my skin – to you my anonymous (non-existent) readers, I give you:

Song for an Unborn Brother
CJ Driver

The one who should have been the first,
My mother lost at thirteen weeks.
My parents saved his name for me
And one there sleeps, and one here wakes.

I wonder what he might have been
Since what I am would not exit.
What little gap there seems to be
Between my body and the dust.

So when I’m dead (as dead as him)
Will I then seem as never born?
A shadow lost when lights went out?
A matchhead struck which didn’t b urn?

Abundance thrives despite our loss:
The glass reflects, the glass refracts –
My brother’s flesh and my own self
Still suppositions more than facts.

Postscript (15 June)

So I sent it to him anyway, and he liked it! I seriously need to get to know other people as well as I know him :-)

Weathering the Storms

Europeans seem to be obsessed with weather. In contrast to South Africans that is. So as my Mother is a Norwegian, who (I have always had the feeling) wishes that she's rather been born English, I have somehow managed to inherit that deep and abiding concern for the weather.

I am not quite sure one can rely so much on the weather any more though (could one ever?). There seems to be a huge dissonance between what I remember, and the realities. For example I remember when I went to Norway (Oslo) when I was six years old. We arrived in autumn (I remember this vividly as I had a window seat and remember seeing the brightly coloured autumn leaves, and since then Northern hemisphere autumns have always been my favourite time of year), but even then I remember walking to school (we were there for six weeks, and what better way to keep your child out of your hair by sending them at school while they are still too young to appreciate the distinctions between school and holiday) past piles of snow on the side of the road.

When I went back to Norway at twenty, one of the first things they said to me was that I should not even hope for a white Christmas. I was lucky for several of the Christmases I was there, but there were certainly no guarantees.

I have grown up in South Africa, in the area known as the "Highveld", which has dry, hot summers. The last two years however I have not needed to water my lawn, as our summers have become, well, quite wet!

Our quality of life as humans is quite dependent on how well we "weather the storms", and we have weather forecasting, and technology to help us manage the elements. Increasingly however, it seems to be a losing battle. Hurricane Katrina will go down in infamy as to how the richest country in the world was not able to protect their poorest from the devastation of weather. There have been floods costing millions in Europe in the last few years. There are floods costing thousands of lives in developing countries (most recently I think in Brazil).

Then there was a "great storm" which this week cost the lives of 228 people on an Air France flight (to far too many people the globe around AF 447 will actually mean something). The plane just "vanished" and too many lives were lost. Being the over-thinker I have been wondering if I had ever been on a flight with some of the crew that went down (as a regular, currently platinum Air France customer). It is a true tragedy.

For me, more than anything else, it makes me realise that whatever your God, if humankind, with our vain attempts to claim there is an answer for everything (my impression of what "intelligent" people like Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens think), humankind (and all our efforts, like science) are not great!

‘Shalimar the Clown’ – by Salman Rushdie

I love books. So much so when things get too much in my life (and it’s been too much for a while now) I seriously consider whether I shouldn’t just give it all up and study to be a librarian. I love just sitting and going through my books, deciding which books I need to read first in order to make space for the two boxes that I’ve never quite managed to unpack (due to lack of space) since I’ve moved in. This, in spite of the five or so bookshelves, admittedly of vastly differing sizes, which I have in my tiny apartment.

So in an effort to “make space” I embarked on “Shalimar the Clown” by Salman Rushdie. I got the gift a few years ago as a gift from two dear friends, but somehow hadn’t got around to reading it. (I have a terrible habit of increasing my book collection at a much faster rate than I read). However, convinced that I would, if I finished it at all, be getting rid of it, I started on it.

I have to mention that I did start reading a Salman Rushdie a few years ago (“Fury”), but did not get very far. (If I do not enjoy the book fairly quickly, I don’t persevere long – too many books, so little time). I almost gave up on this one two, but for some reason, perhaps because Salman Rushdie has the distinction of having won the “Booker of Bookers” (for Midnight’s Children), I persisted.

I would by no means characterise the book as a particularly easy read. Nevertheless I found it mesmerizing, and perhaps if I had just dug in, I would have read it quicker. It is somehow beautifully written (I cannot remember the last time I had such a view of a book written by a man!).

It is a book about vengeance and the close relationship between hatred and love. It is about the East and West. It is about two men, “freedom-fighters” to some. It is about two women, a mother and daughter.

It is a questioning of Western notions of individual freedoms, and yet each character is a complete, individual human being. It is about consequences and prisons, both internal and external. It is about the inter-connectedness of families and lovers. It is about the spiritual aspects of the emotional human condition. It is about the vulnerability and frailty of the human ego.

It is about a world missing mercy and grace for the frailties of humans. This is not a book about peace, both external and internal. Which is probably what makes the book so hard, but at the same time, there is a strange gentleness and beauty about this book, which for me at least served as a beacon, warning of the truth about human nature.

All in all, an outstanding read, which shall retain it’s space in my poor, overcrowded library.

Confessions of a discerning sponge

I don't know if I could exactly call myself a "questioner", even if I do remember one particular instance when I was about twelve years old when I did ask a question. I think that I remember this particular incident as in retrospect I realised that I was in the process of forging my own beliefs, rather than just accepting what my parents said. Nevertheless I have not spent my life questioning things, or would even have been characterised as particularly curious. Interested yes, curious no.

Rather I have been a bit of a, well, for lack of a better word, discerning sponge. Well you may wonder what on earth I mean by that! Well, I seem to have spent my life imbibing information, some of which I have rejected, and some of which I have not rejected. This unfortunately means that some of it has been based on my limited understanding or perceptions of things, which I have internalised, and have subsequently struggled to disgorge. It also means that I have beliefs which would definitely not be considered mainstream, considering my conservative Pentecostal background.

I can honestly say that at no point in my life have I considered not believing in the basic Christian fundamentals: that there is one, personal Creator God, and that He made Himself human in the form of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, who lived and walked among us, was crucified, bearing the sins of the world on Himself, died, is risen from the dead and will return again to the Earth, this time fully displaying His true colours. My life experience (both good and bad) have brought me to the point where I am past the point of return - I cannot ever reject this. I am very, very lucky in this respect, as I do appreciate that there are many who either have given up, or have never had the opportunity to truly understand what I am talking about here.

Having said all of the above though, I have realised in the last while that I like to have an answer to life. (Apparently the old Christian adage that "Jesus is the Answer" is not good enough for me, as has been the riposte: what is the question?). This may also be why I was intrigued to discover not so long ago that a key element of Judaism is asking a good question may be more important than the answer :-)

The point however that I am getting to though is that during the last few days my plans have been thwarted, and in a manner which I consider to be unnecessarily cruel, especially if my God is a loving Father. Of course it is all just basic human nature in the end, where we're messed up and treating people with respect and consideration is just not the norm. But somehow I blame God. Now, thankfully I think He is big enough to take it, and I hope that there will be no bolts of lightning heading in my direction courtesy of Him. Well at least no literal bolts of lightning. But at this stage, the questions I seem to be asking are getting no response. What comes to mind is how can the pot ask the potter, why did you make me like this? Which means that I am wondering if somehow I have to find a way to let go of the questions, or let go of the insistence of getting an answer to the questions.

That is surprisingly hard when my life tells me that something is broken, and I don't know precisely what it is, and so how to fix it. I suspect, intellectual that I consider myself to be, that something is me.

This posting is much more honest that I had originally intended to be on this blog, but it occurred to me that at least for me, this is part of the challenge of being an intellectual (and thus trying to find answers and understand everything - as if knowledge and understanding in itself is enough) and yet a Christian. I hope to further explore this further down the line.

So many blogs, so little time

Just a quick posting:

I have recently discovered a blog which I am thoroughly enjoying:

Time Traveler - a New York Times blog which looks at the headlines in the paper exactly a hundred years ago!

Of course it is focused on the US, but nevertheless am enjoying the slightly more contextual look at what happened a year ago.

It is also a bit of an eye-opener about how the world has changed (or the sources of a few myths). The headline which caught my eye today was a report that a crew of a whaling ship was reportedly being imprisoned in Venezuela, by one President Castro. This based on the report of an escapee. It is interesting that the report does show good objectivity in that it does not buy the story without further verification, and I hope that in the coming days the blog will resolve this "storyline"...

The blog can be found at timetraveler.blogs.nytimes.com

Movie Moment: Orson Welles in "The Third Man"

Lest I be misunderstood, as the to the "type" of intellectual I am, following on from the Henry Vaughan poem...I am now shifting gear to something completely different. (Well almost).

Old movies. Classic movies.

I've gone through stages in my life where I enjoy old movies, and by now I have watched quite a few. Recently I've started watching some old videos that I bought (before my DVD), many of which I have never watched yet. (I confess, I like to buy things, and then store them, I am a hoarder of note).

Over the Easter weekend I watched "There's no Business like Show Business" (1954) with Ethel Merman, Donald O'Connor (better known as Gene Kelly's sidekick in Singin' in the Rain), Marilyn Monroe and Mitzi Gaynor (She's gonna wash that may right out of her hair...). Will be handing this movie over to my parents, was not particularly impressed (seemed to have outgrown the cheesy musicals, though I must confess that I've been a huge fan before).

Also watched 'Dial M for Murder' - a Hitchcock classic. Pretty good, though will be watching more of those in the future, so perhaps a future blog on one of those, or his movies in general.

Finally, I watched 'The Third Man'. I've read a few Graham Greene's over the years (not so many, but a few), but not this one. It was pretty kul...except for one particular moment in the movie which was outstanding. Just as the light from the window illumninates Harry Lyme (Orson Welles)'s face, revealing him to his old friend Holly Martins (who up to then believed he was dead) - an outstanding movie moment.

I've seen a few Orson Welles movies before (it turns out) - The Lady from Shanghai, and Othello, but that scene alone made me realise why Orson Welles is so legendary. The expression on his face as the light hit, and he realised that his secret was out was one of pure wryness. Truly a moment whereby the expression said it all, and nothing further needed to be said!

The movie itself is also an interesting play between the moral squalour after the war, and loyalty and friendship. In the end, morality and friendship both win. I may just have to buy the book!

p.s. Picture source: www.biggeststars.com (I tried to contact them to find out whether I had to pay any royalties, but their "contact us" address didn't work!)

Celebrating Easter Sunday

Today is probably the most important day for Christians, the day in which we celebrate Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. It doesn’t actually matter whether this is the exact day or not (let’s face it, it probably isn’t), it is an opportunity for one day in the year to focus on this, the ultimate cornerstone of the Christian belief system.

I personally find it a bit sad that on the one hand, some churches take this Christian holiday so seriously that there is no life to be found, just ceremony and ritual – the whole point is that due to the Resurrection we have LIFE! On the other hand, some Christians are so “un”-religious, that this is just about the same as any other Sunday in the year (other than perhaps they sing, in the style of a funeral march: He is Lord, He is Lord, He has risen from the dead...). Firstly: He IS risen from the dead (yip, still is). Secondly, you would think that it was worth celebrating, not mourning!

Of course, I also expect that this is also the point at which most self-respecting intellectuals “fall off the wagon” as it were, when it comes to the Christian faith. I will not here try to prove why I (who consider myself an intellectual) find it so easy to believe this – I leave that to the living God Himself, to do that. I have experienced His presence, and His touch on my life so many times, that even in the worst moments, I’ve gone beyond the point of no-return – will believe it to the day I die, and stubbornly so. (On this I concede to be as closed-minded to the fact that God does not exist and Richard Dawkins is to the fact that He doesn’t! It’s a stalemate of note). I also know that Wisdom is found by those who want to find Him.

But I digress, this is a fitting moment to have my first “real” posting on this blog, and so to suitably capture the day, herewith a poem by Henry Vaughan (English poet, 1621/22- 1695)

Easter-Day

Thou, whose sad heart, and weeping head lies low,
Whose cloudy breast cold damps invade,
Who never feel’st the sun, nor smooth’st thy brow,
But sitt’st oppressèd in the shade,
Awake! awake!
And in His resurrection partake,
Who on this day – that thou might’st rise as He –
Rose up, and cancell’d two deaths due to thee.

Awake! awake! and, like the sun, disperse
All mists that would usurp this day;
Where are thy palms, thy branches, and thy verse?
Hosanna! hark! why dost thou stay?
Arise! arise!
And with His healing blood anoint thine eyes,
Thy inward eyes; His blood will cure thy mind,
Whose spittle only could restore the blind.

Watch this space

This amounts at my second try at creating a blog which per chance will capture the interest of someone out there...

Last time around I was going through a tough time, so things got a bit me-focused. This time, I am intending to focus on books that I am reading, movies I've seen and just general events taking place, all knowing that I serve a God who created me as I am, and that he loves we intellectuals too!!

So, see you soon!!