Arriba

Roberto Clemente

Roberto Clemente (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Standing in the sanctuary,
holding up the line
of those who sought to leave,
José and I spoke
of baseball present and baseball past,
and our conversation’s magic conjured you.

From the sea you rose,
to stride proudly across the beach,
pass through the mists
of memory and time and
take your place
on the green right field grass
of the stadium near
where two rivers end and one begins.

For a moment,
a fleeting moment,
an endless moment:
your good strong arm and lightning bat,
your graceful lope and glove of gold,
your passion for the game,
your commitment to humanity
back where they belong.

And a smile crosses my face.

And a tear fills my eye

And all is pain.

And all is well.

And all is well.

Arriba!

15 April 2012
Brooklyn and Manhattan

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In the elevator

His short legs did reach the floor,
but barely lifted his small body
eight or nine inches above it.
The elevator light gave his canine eyes
a sheen of green as in silence he
peered  intently up at me.
Was it friendship I saw
or merely lust for the sandwich I carried?
I will never know as
the elevator lurched to a stop
and he followed his owner
into the hall.

9 April 2012
Morningside Gardens

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A ride through friendship and the years via films

Films carry a great deal of my past with them or so it seems when I view them.

As I watch them again, I experience them anew, I see scenes that I have somehow managed to miss in the past. But I also find memories washing over me – memories of the time I first saw them – memories of how they spoke to my life at that moment – memories of where I was and what I was doing – memories of the people present when I saw them.

I have started watching every DVD I own – in no particular order, simply in the order they come off the stacks where I store them. I have done this before. This time I find them evoking memories in a powerful way.

The memories jumble, bumping into each other, pulling me through life and experiences in a random order – evoking the people who are and have been part of my viewing experiences through the years. Smiles and tears commingle in a fun ride.

Tonight – Little Miss Sunshine – which features one of my favorite endings and calls to mind some of my favorite movie-going companions.

See you along the Trail.

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Trumpeting resurrection

The saints of the United Presbyterian Church of Ozone Park invited me to preach this morning. It was a beautiful, sunny, cool day in Queens. Easter lilies graced the front of the sanctuary, trumpeting resurrection. 

As usual my photo fails to do justice – and yet, perhaps under some unperceived artistic inspiration, the photo blurry photo the sense of movement present on that first Easter morning – going to the tomb – returning to get others – going back to tell what they had seen, though not yet understood.

Alleluia!

See you along the Trail.

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Still I wonder …

The story of Rwanda – as is the story of any genocide – is absolutely wrenching.

Each of the films I am viewing this evening has a scene that particularly tears at my heart and soul: European soldiers arrive to rescue, to evacuate Europeans and North Americans but not Rwandans. They leave knowing the horror taking place around them – aware of what will likely befall those they leave behind.

I watch. Tears fill my eyes.

And I wonder … would I have got on the truck?

And I wonder … who are my brothers and sisters that I abandon today?

The tears slide into my beard.

I can only fall back on grace.

Yet still I wonder …

See you along the Trail.

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Sometimes in April

Cover of "Sometimes in April"

Cover of Sometimes in April

Every year in April the raining season starts.
And every year, every day in April…
The haunting emptiness descends over our hearts.
Every year in April, I remember how quickly life ends.
Every year, I remember how lucky I should feel to be alive.
Augustin
Sometimes in April

April 6 marks the anniversary of the beginning of 100 days of genocide during which 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus were killed. On April 6, 1994, a plane carrying Rwandan President Habyarimana and the Burundian President was shot down near Kigali Airport. The killings begin that night.

The tensions had built over a number of years. Their beginning is often traced to 1916, when the Belgians took control of Rwanda and they produced identity cards classifying people according to their ethnicity.

The BBC reports:

The Belgians considered the Tutsis to be superior to the Hutus. Not surprisingly, the Tutsis welcomed this idea, and for the next 20 years they enjoyed better jobs and educational opportunities than their neighbours.

Resentment among the Hutus gradually built up, culminating in a series of riots in 1959. More than 20,000 Tutsis were killed, and many more fled to the neighbouring countries of Burundi, Tanzania and Uganda.

When Belgium relinquished power and granted Rwanda independence in 1962, the Hutus took their place. Over subsequent decades, the Tutsis were portrayed as the scapegoats for every crisis.

Building up to genocide

This was still the case in the years before the genocide. The economic situation worsened and the incumbent president, Juvenal Habyarimana, began losing popularity At the same time, Tutsi refugees in Uganda – supported by some moderate Hutus – were forming the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), led by Mr Kagame. Their aim was to overthrow Habyarimana and secure their right to return to their homeland.

Habyarimana chose to exploit this threat as a way to bring dissident Hutus back to his side, and Tutsis inside Rwanda were accused of being RPF collaborators.

In August 1993, after several attacks and months of negotiation, a peace accord was signed between Habyarimana and the RPF, but it did little to stop the continued unrest.

The international community knew of the unrest – knew of the potential for violence. Peace talks held in August 1993 in Arusha, Tanzania resulted in the creation of UNAMIR (United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda). The UNAMIR commander Major General Roméo Dallaire of Canada learned from an informant of Hutu plans being made to exterminate Tutsis; to provoke and kill Belgian troops to guarantee Belgium’s withdrawal from Rwanda; and the location of Interahamwe arm caches.

In January, 1994, General Dallaire cabled the UN asking for protection for the informant and permission to seize the arms caches. His superiors denied his request. Other warnings were also ignored.

April 1994 followed.

I chose to mark this anniversary today – on Good Friday – by watching three movies about Rwanda.

First – Sometimes in April. This film tells the story through the lens of two Hutu brothers – Honoré who worked for the radio station that inflamed the violence and Augustin who served in the Rwandan army. Augustin had married a Tutsi woman  Jeanne, and had three children with her: Anne-Marie, Yves-André, and Marcus. As the plot line jumps back and forth in time and space, the brothers bear witness to the events that led to the genocide as well as the genocide and its aftermath in different ways.

The film begins with an overview of the roots of the genocide. It makes it clear that it did not just begin that one day in April.

The film deals with the failure of the world to respond. It includes a clip of the famous question: “How many acts of genocide does it take to make genocide.”

It deals with the failure of the church to protect the people and shows a mass killing at a school for girls. When ordered to divide themselves between Hutus and Tutsis, the girls refuse. All are shot. Their affirmation of a  common humanity contrasts with the horror of their murder.

It deals with guilt. For all else that he has done, Honoré agrees to lead Augustin’s family to safety. He tries.  But fails.

Ultimately Honoré is captured and brought before the tribunal prosecuting crimes committed during the genocide. His crime is inciting the people. Not all those who bear responsibility put their hand to a machete. There is also a bitter, heart-wrenching (at least my heart) irony in seeing those who failed to intervene to stop the slaughter now addressing it in a court room. Of course prosecution is needed. But what about prevention?

Augustin goes to the tribunal. Through the hotel wall, he talks with a woman who will later testify about the use of rape in the genocide.

The brothers meet. The story of Honoré’s failure and the murder of Jeanne and two of Augustin’s children is told. Both brothers weep. The scene between the brothers ends with rain. God’s tears? Healing, cleansing water? No words – no summary. It works well to leave the situation unresolved and to leave us wondering if forgiveness took place on any level.

The film touches briefly on Rwandan efforts to work for reconciliation. It shows a gacaca court at work. Through the history of Rwanda, neighbors have settled disputes by adjourning to the gacaca (“on the grass”) to sit, discuss and mediate personal and community problems. Is it working? Time will tell for sure, but in many ways it appears to be doing so. Another film and book explore that story: As We Forgive. That’s a film for another day.

A well acted film, Sometimes in April explores many dimensions of a horrific experience and provides no easy answers. Therein lies much of its power.

Beyond the Gates (originally titled Shooting Dogs) is next. Hotel Rwanda follows.

See you along the Trail.

 

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A new perspective on ants

Last summer the Ghost Ranch Service Corps drew the task of cleaning the labyrinth. In the process of removing a bush, I hit upon a nest of ants. They climbed the shovel. They climbed inside my pants and socks. They boldly went places I did not want them to go. They showed up a couple of hours later.There seemed to number in the thousands; there were probably only a couple dozen. I can still feel them crawling on me as I remember.

Today I read a story that puts my experience in perspective. I will not complain about it again.

Famine stalks the Sahel region of Africa. I looked up the Sahel. Encyclopedia Britannica defines it as a

semiarid region of western and north-central Africa extending from Senegal eastward to The Sudan. It forms a transitional zone between the arid Sahara (desert) to the north and the belt of humid savannas to the south. The Sahel stretches from the Atlantic Ocean eastward through northern Senegal, southern Mauritania, the great bend of the Niger River in Mali, Burkina Faso (formerly Upper Volta), southern Niger, northeastern Nigeria, south-central Chad, and into The Sudan.

The hunger season has come to the Sahel. UNICEF estimates that 1 million children are in danger of dying from severe acute malnutrition. They go on to note that:

Over 15 million people in Burkina Faso, Cameroon, Chad, Mali, Mauritania, Niger, Nigeria and Senegal are directly affected by the crisis. And although the people of the Sahel are resilient, their position has been weakened by successive emergencies. The region suffered droughts in 2005 and 2010, and many families were forced to sell their livestock, pull children out of school, borrow money and get by with less food.

UNICEF estimates that it needs $120 million to feed the 1 million children under age 5 who will need lifesaving treatment for severe acute malnutrition.

As you might imagine, people facing such a situation will do most anything to survive. I think I have a good imagination. But it turns out that I could not begin to imagine what people might do.

From the Inter Press Service (emphasis added):

During a recent stop in the capital, Stephen Cockburn, Oxfam International West Africa’s regional coordinator for campaigns and policy, described desperate measures he had seen in the countryside. “In Tassino, a village in the Mangalmé district in the central part of Guéra, women are breaking apart anthills, searching for grain stored there by ants,” he said.

Women are breaking apart anthills, searching for grain stored there by ants.

My heart breaks to read those words. My mind reels as I struggle to imagine that experience – the desperate courage that leads to such an act – and the ants – everywhere the ants.

I made a gift to UNICEF and took a silent vow never to complain about the ants again.

See you along the Trail.

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Maundy Thursday 2012 makes me wonder

Maundy Thursday this year fell on an interesting day on the calendar. Wednesday marked the anniversary of the assassination of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Friday marks the anniversary of the beginning of the Rwandan genocide.

On the night of his arrest, the night before his execution, Jesus shared bread and the cup and gave his followers a new commandment: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another (John 13:34).”

On the night before his assassination, Dr. King proclaimed that he had been to the mountaintop.

Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!

On the night before Juvénal Habyarimana and Cyprien Ntaryamira died in a plane crash, the night before hell engulfed Rwanda, what did the people do? What did they feel? What did they think?

I wonder.

See you along the Trail

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Ask for clemency in Oklahoma

Something rare has happened in Oklahoma.

Oklahoma Pardon and Parole Board has voted to recommend clemency (mercy) for a person facing execution. They do not do that often, but they did so by a vote of 4 to 1 in the case of Garry T. Allen. The State of Oklahoma is scheduled to execute Allen on Thursday, April 12, 2012 for his murder of Lawanna Gail Titsworth. A number of reasons are cited to support the vote.

  • Allen does not recall the crime. This could result from either  extreme intoxication and/or being shot in the head when apprehended.
  • Despite this lack of memory, Allen has accepted responsibility for shooting Lawanna Gail Titsworth in a domestic dispute.
  • His behavior during the shooting when Allen asked Titsworth her if she was all right, and later, at the hospital, he asked where she was point to Allen being mentally impaired at the time of the crime.
  • Allen’s family reported instances of delusional thinking even as a child. It is also reported that he suffered head injuries during a beating. It is further reported that the “frontal lobe of Allen’s brain, the part involved in planning and moderating behavior, is damaged, perhaps because of earlier head injuries or perhaps because of the gunshot in the head, or both.”
  • Allen accepts the fact that he killed Titsworth – though he does not remember but was told by others that he committed the crime. In an effort to spare both Titsworth’s and his own family painful legal proceedings, Allen plead guilty to the crime.

I grieve for the family, friends, and all who loved Lawanna Gail Titworth. They have suffered a loss I cannot imagine.

But I fail to see how executing Garry T. Allen serves a purpose other than revenge. And the State of Oklahoma – any state – should be better than that. The State of Oklahoma should not execute this mentally ill and remorseful man. He should serve the remainder of his life in an appropriate state facility.

I signed a petition asking Governor Mary Fallin of Oklahoma to show mercy and, as the Oklahoma Pardon and Parole Board recommends, to grant clemency to Gary T. Allen.

You too can sign the petition.

See you along the Trail.

I regret that I have not made time to address issues of capital punishment and the death penalty over the last couple months.

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Remembering

Ghosts pass through this week – they probably do so every week – this week they seem more real.

April 4 – the assassination of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Thanks be to God for his life and witness and for all who follow in his footsteps.

April 6 – genocide commenced in Rwanda. Thanks be to God for all who seek to rebuild their lives and country.

The fires of memory burn.

Painful, wrenching though it be, I remember.

See you along the Trail.

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