Their First Apartment

This was so long ago they had
not been together much before
they married. She had not been poor,
but lived with ‘rents and sibs instead
of at the noisy dorms at school.

He was an RA in the first
year dorm for men–a small closet,
the bathroom was clear

Their first apartment seemed quite huge
to him: one wall, a kitchen–two
windows, a bed, a desk, a loo
right here behind that door… The rage

she felt was not at him, nor at
the smallness of the space, but dirt
was everywhere. They could not rest
until they cleaned this pit, her nest.

Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, insanely happy after all these years.
[Our first year was in a tiny one room efficiency]

Is there no cure for these?

Gordon C. Stewart April 11, 201

Today the Senate begins a floor debate on gun control that brings to mind an earlier “floor debate” several months ago in Chaska, Minnesota.

Ever since the community Dialogue on “Gun Violence in America,” I’ve searched for answers to what happened.

A crowd of 138 people came out on Tuesday night to chime in following the tragedy at Sandy Hook in Newtown, Connecticut.

As the night wore on, it became clear that there would be no real dialogue, no moderated discussion. No give-and-take. A series of monologues, without interruption and with a time limit, was the best we could expect.

Fear, anger, hostility and suspicion were in the room. The room was hot.

The months following have been a personal search for understanding of what happened that night, and how we in America move forward together on such a divisive issue.
———————————-
Imagine two people going into separate audiologist booths for hearing exams.

John grew up in rural America. Betty grew up in the city.

In their hearing booths Betty and John repeat the word they hear.

“Say the word ‘gun’, says the audiologist.

“Gun.”

Their hearing is good. They say the same word.

—————————–

After the hearing test, John and Mary are taken to different rooms for interviews. A social psychologist wants to know what emotions and thoughts are triggered when they hear the word ‘gun’.

“I’m going to give you a word. After you repeat the word, I want you to give me the other words that come to mind. It’s called “word association”. Don’t think about it. Just say whatever comes to mind.

“Gun”:

    John:

“Safety, protection, coyotes, wolves, cows, cattle, sheet, careful, responsibility, civil right.”

    Betty:

“Run, violence, threat, death, war, robber, gangs, school massacres, NRA, Sandy Hook.”

NRA:

    John:

“Second Amendment, right to bear arms, protector of civil liberties, defender of the Constitution.”

    Betty:

“Right-Wing, powerful, myopic, out-of-touch, vigilantes, white supremacist, radical, dangerous.”

Gun control:

    John:

“Government, anti-democratic, anti-Constitutional, intrusion, loss of freedom, fear, police state, socialism.”

    Betty:

“Safety, safe home, necessity, protection, peace, hope, end of fear.

Kingdom of God:

    John:

“Hmmm… Soul, salvation, heaven?”

    Betty:

“Hmmm… Safe streets, the common good, love?”

————————

Both are church members. They are practicing Christians. Betty and John pray the Lord’s Prayer. “Thy (Your) Kingdom come; Thy (Your) will be done on Earth as it is in heaven.”

Could the common bond of Jesus’ prayer bring the two into the same room in a shared search for understanding and action? Or are the formative cultural experiences so determinative that faith and religion are what Marx said they were – blinders that prevent them from seeing anything but what we’ve already chosen to see?

Perhaps some singing might help – a hymn or two – and reflection on the lyrics, like those of Fred Pratt Green (1969):

O Christ, the healer, we have come
To pray for health, to plead for friends.
How can we fail to be restored,
When reached by love that never ends?

From every ailment flesh endures
Our bodies clamor to be freed;
Yet in our hearts we would confess
That wholeness is our deepest need.

How strong, O Lord, are our desires,
How weak our knowledge of ourselves!
Release in us those healing truths
Unconscious pride resists or shelves.

In conflicts that destroy our health
We recognize the world’s disease;
Our common life declares our ills:
Is there no cure, O Christ, for these
?

The still, small voice of calm

We live in a pandemic sea of fear and rage. We are ridden on all side by anxiety. Our hearts are anxious, easily stirred up, annoyed, and angry.

I remember the calm that would come over me as we sang this quietly during Vespers in my boyhood church. Even then, it calmed my troubled spirit. It calms me still. John Greenleaf Whiittier’s lyrics and Frederick Charles Maker’s music combine to calm me down to listen quietly for “the still, small voice of calm” that speaks through the social earthquake, winds, and storms. “Lord, breathe through the heats of my desire Thy coolness and Thy balm.”

Verse – When Love Has Gone

AUTHOR’S NOTE: “Not all poetry is autobiographical.” 🙂

Verse – “When Love Has Gone”

They had been together

years.  The kids had all grown,

gone.  Old wounds would fester;

anger was like a crown:

one head then the other…

then despair, all their own.

Stubbornly they refuse

divorce.  They start to go

for help and learn to use

kindnesses, no words, no

sex, but avoid abuse.

Slowly, love starts to grow…

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Jan. 3, 2013