Let the mob run

"They will kill you." I remember the moment, the atmosphere in the room, the intensity of sunlight coming in through the west windows over the mountains into my colleague's church board room, the faces of other clergy around the table, and the resonant silence that met his words. "Jan, you know they will kill you if you don't leave." The only reason I can remember that scene now is that: I didn't believe it at the time. My fellow pastors, who knew my setting better than I did, (that's for sure!) urged me for months to leave. But Miss Naivete, Miss Innocent, didn't believe it. I was unnerved, (that's for sure!) but I didn't believe it, not that, not that serious a threat. I didn't sleep, didn't focus, didn't function at my usual level for all of those following months. I was already traumatized. People don't function well while truly traumatized. We may rise to heroic actions when we are threatened,or those around us are threatened, but the Chinese water torture, as we call it, or the "white torture," as we also call it, or the "extreme measures," as we often now call it, none of these lend themselves to high functioning. The extreme rhetoric, the behaviors I described yesterday, the harassment --- all of these create distractions and undermine clear thinking, are, as they say, "crazy-making." They are more than threatening. They are traumatizing. And the two are different in kind. So. I was traumatized for months before the final blows. A mob was being stirred up. Riled up, manipulated. And the smooth-talking magistrate never once called them out, never challenged either their outrageous perceptions or their escalating behaviors. And in the end, he made it explicit, You will do what you will do. (Those of you who remember the Christian story will recognize that line.) They did. Do what they would do. Not isolated incidents anymore but a pattern. A terrifying pattern. And finally, it wasn't one of their leaders who delivered the last of their blows. It was a fringe guy, one of the mob, dare I say, part of the rabble, who acted, I think, more out of confusion and unorganized anxiety than his own clear motivation. Ah, but finally, this is not about me. This is about what is going on in our country right now. And it horrifies, terrifies me. Is it only a matter of time before a fringe guy, part of the rabble, the mob, shoots off more than his or her mouth. I am afraid. Death threats, including the call to hang Senator Patty Murray, use of the "n" word, the "f" word addressed directly on Capital steps to members of Congress, and spitting on Members of Congress as they entered the building, and now this afternoon, a gas line cut to the home of a brother of a Member of Congress who has... four young children at home (the brother's address was given by mistake instead of the MOC). And the leaders of the Republican Party are namby pamby about criticizing it. They must CALL OUT this violence and the threats to violence loudly, unequivocably, and with all of the authority and determination of the elected positions they hold. To do less is to leave the mob to run its course. Which will not end well. For anyone. Not one. Democracy is messy. But for the love of God, these are NOT isolated incidents in the sense that they are so far out of the mainstream, they are becoming a pattern. And the GOP must CALL THEM OUT. Mob mentalities are easily manipulated, and when they are not discouraged ---- ask me, check my medical records --- they ACT OUT THEIR HATE. What do we do? Maybe I start by calling my GOP Congressman and asking him to speak up, to condemn this behavior. Not the opinions or the persons themselves, but the behavior, over the top, dangerous. Deadly.

"take care of one another"

No matter where I go around the world, the issue of Native Americans comes up. We white European-Americans have no moral credibility around the globe with respect to our relationship to the First Peoples to inhabit this land. It is a matter I do not think of often. I don't dare. It is too painful. It is too humiliating, too terrible to remember. We, who dress up so nicely, who turn out so elegantly, who speak with grace and eloquence, we, who can be immensely gracious and generous, kind and compassionate, we, we. We are the perpetrators of horrible crimes against the native peoples. In a torn and depleted world, amazing things happen sometimes. I was part of a moment, a relationship, an event in time, on Friday that stirred me deeply and is worthy of consideration. "Warriors take care of one another. This is our common pledge. We are here to honor you, Warriors, as you carry on the name and the hallmarks of the Arapaho people," says Tribal Elder Leonard Moss to the 2100 cheering Arapahoe High School students. Tribal Elder Moss, wearing the dignified face paint and ceremonial headdress of the Arapahoe nation, his wizened face conveying kindness and conviction to the students, reminded the Arapahoe Warriors that "the Arapahoe and the Arapaho are two communities with one heart." The Arapaho came to Arapahoe today. And oh,what a day! A reverent and joyful celebration of the uncommon relationship between a high school community and the Native community whose name and heritage they bear. Gifts, dancing, lots and lots of dancing, drumming, singing, affection and respect exchanged between us all. Dozens of Arapaho traveled in white vans and Suburbans from the Wind River Reservation in central Wyoming to Littleton, Colorado, to a suburban high school where more than two thousand students are reminded every day of their identity and heritage as Arapahoe Warriors, part of the Arapaho community. "Warriors take care of one another." Words posted all around the school, recited daily in the student announcements, and reinforced in countless ways to the point that it is a message internalized by these students, as a part of their identity and commitment. "Arapaho are known as a 'people who teach,' and it is our privilege to be here to teach you something about the culture of the people whose name you carry," the Tribal Elder told them. You might think this is a schmaltzy, schwarmy, hokey and tokenistic, feel good experience. But, au contraire! Everyone about this relationship is profoundly serious. honest, and gracious. There is no artifice. It is remarkable to see a gym filled with 2100 teenagesr who are wildly proud to be Warriors, and when I say Warriors I mean Arapaho Warriors as much as Arapahoe Warriors. It is "Warrior pride" that these students learn to feel about themselves, and now, by Warrior I mean, strong, tenacious, pride for yourself (self-esteem)and your tribe, and respect for yourself and for your Elders. Your actions, your life reflects upon your people, and by their actions, your people are expected to honor you. And, as the motto for both nation and high school reminds them, "Warriors take care of one another." I have seen these words every day for the four years my daughter attended Arapahoe. Nice, thoughtful. I had no idea the freight they carried. And even though I knew from the start about this uncommon relationship between the Arapahoe and the Arapaho, I didn't understand the extent to which each community identifies with the other, the sense of solidarity and unity. How remarkable is this! In this country, on this land, given this history, our children acknowledge the forfeit that has given them privilege. Our children, through this relationship, accept the responsibility of caring for one another. Our children, because of this unparalleled relationship with the Arapaho nation, are graciously blessed and given the opportunity for learning and living. Indeed, the words that touched me most deeply, from Tribal Elder Leonard Moss, were as gracious as I could imagine, anywhere, anytime. "We are glad you can use this land that once was ours to learn, to grow," to become more human. Can you imagine such a blessing? If every people in America was as humble, grateful and respectful, and overcome with affection for the Native community on whose land we now learn and live and make our livings as the community of Arapahoe High School, and if every Native community was, by some miracle of forgiveness and acceptance, as gracious and kind and giving as the Arapaho community of the Wind River Reservation in central Wyoming, this country would be very different. Think, if you will, about what the world would look like, if other conflicts were so resolved, if other vanquished peoples were given the grace to embrace the children of those who stole their land, their livelihoods, their world. And what if we, the children of those who violated and stole and ruined, desecrated the world of others had the grace to embrace with gratitude the legacy that has been ravaged but not finally obliterated. What if we shared a common conviction, "Warriors take care of one another." So far as I can tell, the House of Representatives in their vote tonight, affirmed this vision, that "we take care of one another." How ironic, that these words first found me in the voice of the First Peoples who have changed my daughter's life over these past four years as an Arapahoe Warrior. I never imagined how proud I would be, never imagined, not at all, how happy and proud I would be to hear my daughter tell a family friend again today, "I'm an Arapahoe Warrior." Let's be like them, and take care of one another!