Obama's Inauguration and Deuteronomy.
There was a light in the President's speech a few weeks ago. Finally he seemed to exhale and speak words he must have longed to say during the last four years. Yes there was Selma, Seneca and Stonewall and it is surely time that those three moments were linked in the longing and demand for human liberty . But what I heard was the repetition of the phrase, 'we the people'; we the collective. Was this a call to a maturity, moving from self centered narcissism to a new consciousness? One that is emerging in the midst of globalization, the Internet, and the vision of earth as living Gaia.
The 'me' or 'I' generation, has actually emerged over many generations. This development of the self as distinct from the tribe, the clan, the church, the kingdom began in the Renaissance ran through the Enlightenment, and perhaps finding its fullest expression in these post modern times in the personal narrative. Or maybe it began thousands of years ago when desert prophets proclaimed the voice of “I am that I am”. This sacred call, this sacred recognition has inspired western culture for centuries, for good and bad. And although many criticize the grandiosity of narcissism, and rightly so, this evolution of the 'me' or the 'I' has been a crucial and precious development. Democratic values cannot exist without the individual voice with its wisdom and even its crazed screeching. Healing of the individual soul needs an understanding of that soul's history, evolution and development. Psychology is a remarkable expression beginning with Freud of the vicissitudes of individual human suffering and its potential for healing and growth.
But perhaps as we face crises of global proportions this trajectory of 'me' and 'I' has reached a certain limit. These crises require a vision of the common good. Not simply my good, but one that holds the blessings of the collective. Are we moving from the 'me generation' to the 'we generation'? Not a codependent we, a brainwashed we, a herd of the we, but a racially new we. A 'we' that holds and needs the expression of the individual 'I' of many.
Well enough of the arc of history and speculations about the emergence of a new consciousness that might save us.
As I write this I am sitting in a Benedictine monastery a few miles outside of Three Rivers. And yes three rivers do meet in this small town. The river St Joseph emerges as the vessel containing the other two as it heads southward towards Indiana. Three Rivers lies close to Lake Michigan lives with lake effect weather. At this time of year it snows all the time. Sometimes gentle puffs glide and settle. Sometimes it seems like the mist itself is snowing. But right now it is snowing seriously. The woods around the monastery are like silent black and white statues, many tangled on the ground from the tornado that ripped through here a few years ago. The living trees rise up catching snow until the wind picks up and then they become bare and pristine again, like silent majesties. It is a landscape of searing silence, of blasting whiteness and the dark hibernation of winter.
The solitude here is like food. It feeds and gradually claims me into a restful peace. The depths of mystery are here, as they are everywhere. But here there are fewer distractions.
The monastic day is marked by the hours, seven of them. Starting at 4am with Matins (which I sleep through) and ending with Compline at 8pm. Seven times a day the monks renew their commitment to each other. They bless each other in the name of what is most holy to them. And they welcome me into their collectivity. There is a 'we' here and it is sanctified over and over. And yet these monks, as I get to know them, are a very distinct, quirky, bunch of men. No mushiness here. They repent their rough edges, sin I suppose, over and over, and at the end of the day they retire to their cells under the same roof. And most of them have done this for decades. It takes the surrender to their God that makes this mix of 'me' and 'I' and 'we' possible. Nothing fancy in their daily practice and yet it is miraculous.
I just finished reading Walter Breuggemann's latest book. He is one of the foremost Christian interpreters of the Old Testament. His book, 'Journey to the Common Good', has echoes of Obama's speech. Breuggemann speaks of a journey together in neighborliness, re-covenanting and reconstruction. He calls this the promise of the common good.
He quotes Deuteronomy 24:19-22 recorded centuries before Christ.
When you reap your harvest in the field and you forget a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back to get it; it shall be left for the alien, the orphan and the widow, so that The Lord your God, may bless you in all your undertakings. When you beat your olive tree, do not strip what is left; it shall be for the alien, the orphan, the widow.
When you gather the grapes of your vineyard do not glean what is left; it shall be for the alien, the orphan and the widow. Remember that you were a slave in Egypt; therefore I am commanding you to do this.
This thread of the common good arose in the desert, amidst the threat of slavery, Pharaoh, disease, wild animals, hordes of locusts. They lived every day with possible annihilation. How did such wisdom emerge from such a small group of humans.? We would be wise to remember them and their call. Our planet is calling us, our God is calling us, our science is calling us. And most of all we long to have hearts of flesh not of stone.
