Friday 56: The Summer of the Great-Grandmother

From Storytime with Tonja and Friends

Rules:

* Grab the book nearest you. Right now.
* Turn to page 56.
* Find the fifth sentence.
* Post that sentence (plus one or two others if you like) along with these instructions on your blog or (if you do not have your own blog) in the comments section of this blog.
*Post a link along with your post back to this blog.
* Don't dig for your favorite book, the coolest, the most intellectual. Use the CLOSEST.

It was not just a bad headache; it was a cerebral hemorrhage, and Liz was dead before morning.  Liz died on the twenty-sixth of November.  The funeral was on the twenty-ninth:  my birthday. 

~The Summer of the Great-Grandmother by Madeleine L'Engle

Cover of The Summer of the Great-Grandmother

I had this book sitting by the computer waiting to be reviewed -- with lots of little strips of paper sticking out where I found phrases or paragraphs I especially liked.  It's a work of non-fiction about the summer L'Engle's mother died.

My world is not the world of L'Engle's family -- children eating dinner separately, trips to the Continent, summer houses, hanging out with the Empress of France or General Custer, owning a house with a marble privy designed by Thomas Jefferson -- but nonetheless I can identify with some of her thoughts and experiences. 

L'Engle came to my college when I was a student there.  I attended her lecture, but remember very little -- mostly an image of a scarf -- so I guess it was winter -- but I don't know if it was her scarf, mine, or my friend Steve's.  I've read more of her writing in my last 15 years than I did in my first 20 and wish I had the opportunity to hear that lecture all over again -- I think it would mean something different to me now.

Some more snippets I wanted to share...

I realize, with a pang, how privileged we are to be able to keep my mother with us.  This is how it should be, but what would I do if we lived in a tiny home and did not have the girls and Clara to help?   . . .  And even though we have room, and the girls to help us, there are still those who think that my mother should be put away.  Put away.  Everything in me revolts at the idea.  But my belief that we are supposed to share all of life with each other, dying and decay as well as feasting and fun, is being put to the test. (p 28)

. . . I do not think that a house can be a happy house if no one has cried in it, if no one has died in it.  If this seems contradictory, I can't help it.  I rebel against death, yet I know that it is how I respond to death's inevitability that is going to make me less or more fully alive. (p 23-9)

I'm much more use to family and friends when I'm not physically and spiritually depleted than when I spend my energies as though they were unlimited.  They are not. (p 46-7)

The mother of my childhood and adolescence and very young womanhood existed for me solely as mother, and I suppose it is inescapable that for a long time we know our parents only as parents, that their separate identity as full persons in their own right unfolds only gradually, if at all. (p 88)

If I have to conform to provable literalism I not only rebel, I propose immediate revolution.  How do I make more than a fumbling attempt to explain that faith is not legislated, that it is not a small box which works twenty-four hours a day?  If I "believe"for two minutes once every month or so, I'm doing well. (p 142)

I prayed very badly in church yesterday.  I often pray badly when I try to say my prayers at home.  But if I stop going to church, no matter how mad church makes me, if I stop praying at home, no matter how futile it sometimes seems, then "real" prayer is never going to come.  (p 144)

 

Jim Wallis encourages us to find common ground by moving to higher ground

The Great Awakening: Reviving Faith & Politics in a Post-Religious Right America by Jim Wallis

Published in 2008, this book (by the author of God's Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn't Get It) is a call to action for all people of faith (Wallis is a Christian and much of the book speaks to that background, but there is much here for people with any concern for moral living and/or an engaged spirituality).  If you aren't intrigued by this description, let me just add that not many books have blurbs on the back cover from Bono (yes, from U2) as well as the pastor of Willow Creek Community Church (a mega-church near Chicago).  :)


Wallis says:

 "the era of the Religious Right is now past, and it's up to all of us to create a new day "(p.9).  " . . . I have come to three clear conclusions.  First, when it comes to faith and politics, the monologue of the Religious Right is indeed over and a new dialogue has begun.  Second, now is the time for movements seeking social justice and peace to recover or find their faith and values and, indeed, to rediscover the social power of spiritual renewal.  Third, the evangelistic call of our time is to a personal faith that includes a passionate commitment to justice." (p. 34)

"Religious convictions must therefore be translated into moral arguments, which must win the political debate if they are to be implemented.  Religious people don't get to win just because they are religious . . . They, like any other citizen, have to convince their fellow citizens that what they propose is best for the common good -- for all of us and not just for the religious.  Clearly, part of the work to be done includes teaching religious people how to make their appeals in moral language and secular people not to fear that such appeals will lead to theocracy." (p.27)

  "The Christianity of private piety, affluent conformity, and 'God Bless [only] America' has compromised the witness of the church while putting a new generation of Christians to sleep.  Defining faith by the the things you won't do doesn't create a compelling style of life." p.39

I appreciate so much about Jim Wallis and the work that he has done -- with Sojourners in D.C. since the 70's as well as his more recent challenges to the religious, moral, and political status quo.  He pulls no punches and is non-partisan in a way that one doesn't see very often these days.   If I had to mention one of his ideas that I most struggle with, it would be his focus on the importance of a two-parent family -- largely, I think because I feel defensive of the single parents I know -- those who have chosen single parenthood and those who have not -- the idea that their families are somehow "less than" is hard for me to swallow.  And, in all fairness, is really not what Wallis is even saying.  And when I think of my occasional sadness (once a year or so I'm brought to tears) when I observe friends' close relationships with their fathers,(my parents divorced when I was in 2nd grade) I think I see, perhaps, a bit more of his point.

Chapter 6 deals with caring for our planet.  Wallis references this blog post by Brian McLaren (who rocks, to put it formally, in many of the same ways that Wallis does).  Check it out -- I am thrilled by the idea of using the stories of Joseph and Noah to cite a mandate to care for our planet and to think ahead about creative ways to solve environmental issues.

In his chapter on equality and diversity (as he does throughout the book), Wallis encourages his readers to speak up about injustice and inequality: 

"It was Paul, a Jew, who most confronted his Christian community and fellow Jews on their reluctance to embrace and include the Gentiles in the new community of the church.  It's time for white people to talk about race, and for men to talk about gender justice" (p.167).

 And a startling idea for many from the section on religious pluralism:

"As a Christian, and an evangelical Christian at that, I want to say emphatically that America is not, and should not be, a "Christian nation" (p.180).

An idea that would have been novel to me 20 years ago but that resonates strongly within me after 5 years at a Mennonite college and (what I sudden realize is) many years attending Mennonite churches:

"The principle of life and dignity must therefore be applied to every place that human life is threatened, including abortion (but not just abortion), euthanasia, human trafficking, torture, genocide, capital punishment, and pandemic diseases, just to name a few.  Indeed, most of the issues raised in this book are 'life issues,' including the great environmental threats, racism, poverty, and war" (p.193). 

 And an example of why I feel he is non-partisan (though I think some would not appreciate the first use of the word child):

"If I were an unborn child and wanted the support of the far right, it would be better for me to stay unborn as long as possible because once I was born, I would be off its radar screen -- no child care, no health care, nothing.  Nor should I expect support from the far left, which speak so much about human rights, because I won't have any until after my birth" (p 214).

Wallis quoting Gordon Brown quoting Gandhi:

"Whenever you are in doubt apply the following test.  Recall the face of the poorest and weakest person whom you may have seen, and ask yourself if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use tot them . . . then . . you will find your doubts melt away" (p. 252).

 I'm making myself stop now before I've quoted the entire book to ya'all, but suffice it to say there is a lot of food for thought herein.

Nine hours, 24 minutes, 51 seconds and counting...

I started the challenge yesterday at 1:30 p.m.  It's been going fairly well. I spent the afternoon reading Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs (more about that in a minute). In the evening did some reading of other participants' blogs, decided not to read Daughters of Gaia, and got a tiny start on I Am the Messenger.  I then stayed up past midnight listening to the audio book of The Woman in White.  I woke up about 5:30 to go to the bathroom.  I seriously considered getting up then, but decided a bit more sleep would probably be a good idea.  I woke up for the second time at 6:30 and started this post.

I wasn't sure what I would think about Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs: Family, Friendships, and Faith in Small-Town Alaska (by Heather Lende).  I believe I checked it out after it was recommended in a newsletter from our local bookstore.  I definitely enjoyed it and I'm glad I chose it to start the challenge.  It was good enough stuff that I want to share a few excerpts and ideas verbatim.

It is often said that there are no atheists in foxholes.  It seems to me that shelled bunkers would be full of skeptics.  In the middle of a war it must be harder, not easier, to believe in a good God. If it were up to me, I'd change that line to there are no atheists in delivery rooms or adoption agencies, but maybe that's because I have given birth to four children and have adopted one.   (p.5)

 Lende was run over by a truck while biking in April 2005.  I didn't know this about her when I picked up this book.  A year ago, I was hit by a car while crossing the street and, while my injuries were nothing compared to Lende's, there was much with which I could identify.  As I am approaching the one-year mark (June 23) it was a good time for me to be reading this book.

I . . . realized that most of us have been hit by a proverbial truck at least once and that, as broadsides go, mine may have been one of the easier to recover from because it was so literal and so public, compared to breast cancer or a messy divorce. (p.8)

 Speaking of grocery lists her mother left before her death:

Maybe it is wishful thinking, or maybe I didn't have enough for lunch and am light-headed, but what I hear her notes, and thus her, is this:  eat dessert, be sure there's coffee for the morning, write things down so you don't forget them, and don't waste paper . . . a person could do worse than to live by those words . . . (p 101-102)

 The back cover describes Lende's writing as "part Annie Dillard, part Anne Lamott".  The comparison resonates with me, at least the Anne Lamott part -- Reading what Lende has to say about faith makes me want to do an about-face and embrace Christianity once more.  She makes me proud of my (fellow?) Christians.

Maybe what humans lack in understanding we make up for with faith.  I do know deep down that there is something good about this world -- and that something is love.  You don't have to be a Christian to know that's why we keep picking each other up every time we fall down.  You just have to be human.  I hope that someday I'll really love my neighbors, especially the difficult ones . . . In the meantime, I'll keep going to my church, because I know what our vicar, Jan would say about this.  It's the same message she preached on "Love Your Neighbor Sunday," and the same one she reiterates in one form or another every Sunday.  We are called by Jesus to be good to all people, even those we don't think we like, much less love . . . This, and only this, will ever shake up the world enough to change it." (p. 160-161)

 As I've been recovering from my accident, I've been very conscious of not referring to my injured arm, shoulder, and neck as my "bad arm" etc., but rather as my injured arm, my healing neck, my tender shoulder, etc.  It was validating to hear Lende's physical therapist reiterate this idea.  "She . . . wouldn't let me call it my 'bad leg.'  She said if I started doing that, it would never heal."

All in all, just some good stuff about community, about faith, about healing, about small town life, about life in Alaska.