Context
When I drive to Texarkana on Saturdays to attend my Quaker meeting, I usually obey the posted speed limit. Since a great deal of my trip takes place on a two-lane highway, this means when people pass me, they then pull in front of me.
A gentleman driving an older sedan with cracks in the windshield did this today. Shortly thereafter we came upon three vehicles on the opposite shoulder, one of which belonged to the Caddo Parish Sheriff's office and had its lights flashing. Louisiana law requires us to move over or slow down for vehicles with flashing lights on our own shoulder, but there are no obligations pertaining to vehicles on the opposite side. Nevertheless, the guy who had just passed me slowed down considerably, even going a few MPH under the speed limit. I was tempted to pass him, but restrained myself.
Commentary
My first reaction to the driver slowing down ahead of me was, "My driving decisions make my life easier." Consider: except for the "move over or slow down" rule mentioned above, I never have to change how I'm driving when I see a member of law enforcement. Other people have to make numerous adjustments.
Not that my method is entirely stress-free. When people pass me on the two-lane, they sometimes express annoyance, and I'm not completely immune to that. Nonetheless, I'd have to say my method of driving is the one that brings me the most peace.
Making all our decisions according to which ones will bring us the most peace is not a bad way to go, although it is complicated by the need to predict how we'll feel in the future on a regular basis. If nothing else, we can evaluate our current path to see if it's bringing us peace and make adjustments accordingly. Who knows? Doing this often enough might improve our powers of prediction.
So what do we define as peace? I'll admit that for me it has the air of "I know it when I feel it," but I'll try to be more definite. I think we can all agree that peace is not worry or stress or guilt, but I would venture to say it's not necessarily happiness or satisfaction, either. As mentioned previously, I often get a great deal of visceral satisfaction when I do the wrong thing. There's always psychic damage to clean up afterwards, though.
Absence of conflict is a reasonably good definition of peace, but it depends on how you define conflict (wheels within wheels!). I often find that making a good decision for me causes opposition from other people. What really tears me up is when I make the right choice for myself and someone else makes the right choice for her/himself and we still end up in conflict! These disputes can usually be resolved by recognizing our differing needs and perspectives, but still!
I also can't really say that making good decisions means I won't be conflicted about them. Change, even good change, is often very stressful. However, I usually find that once I've made my initial commitment and taken the first few steps, most of the strain falls away. Peace manifests in the feeling that a way is opening up for me.
If peace is the revelation of a path we can follow, then I have to say that neither complacency nor resignation fits the bill. Complacency does its level best to never move at all, and resignation implies that one is not deciding where to go. I do, however, have to leave room for the radical resignation that says, "I'm giving up everything to follow God's will."
There, I did it. Stuck God into the middle of a perfectly good (psychological? philosophical?) treatise. I can't help it, though. For me, even seeking peace is related to my religious beliefs that there is a God, that He cares about me, and that He has a plan. When I say "a way is opening up," I mean God's way. Realistically, I don't believe it's actually possible for us to thwart God's will. On the other hand, I think we can cause ourselves a lot of stress and worry by trying to.
What did you see today?
Showing posts with label Texarkana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Texarkana. Show all posts
6/04/2011
5/17/2008
I heard a Friend talk about community reaction.
Context
My Friends meeting in Texarkana tries to have a "Peace Out" every month. This involves going into the community and doing God's work. As we were brainstorming ideas for next month's Peace Out, we thought of several things that might benefit disadvantaged members of the African-American community. One Friend expressed concern that the beneficiaries might be resentful of "these white ladies" (and we all are) coming in where they're not wanted and doing stuff.
Commentary
I don't know if race influences actions more strongly in the South or if we're just more open about it at Quaker meeting, but the subject does seem to come up fairly regularly when we're talking about the Texarkana community. If I were to try to articulate the resentment my friend was concerned about, I think it might go something like this: "these white ladies have no idea what our lives are like, so it's not possible for them to lend a helping hand without judging us, trying to change us, and generally feeling superior to us. Therefore we don't want them around."
This reaction makes me think about Christianity (OK, a lot of things make me think about Christianity). Christians know that God in fact does judge us, wants us to change, and is superior to us. In the book of Job, God makes it pretty clear that He's unconcerned about our resentment (Start from chapter 38 and go from there. You'll get the idea). However, Jesus' incarnation seems to indicate God thought some empathy might be in order. Either that, or He was removing our last stupid excuse for not heeding His word: "you don't know what I'm going through, God. Your opinion doesn't count." Well, now He knows.
So where does that leave a group of white ladies working in an African-American community? Well, I don't think it's true that we have no idea what people's lives are like. We may not be in the same economic or social circumstances, but I think all of us have felt overwhelmed, oppressed, hopeless, unmotivated, and yes, resentful at some time in our lives. If we can offer the empathy that comes from knowing all of us need help sometimes, then perhaps we'll be doing more than just a good deed. We'll actually be furthering God's kingdom.
By the way, here's my favorite joke about empathy: never judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes. That way, when you judge him you'll be a mile away and you'll have his shoes!
What did you hear today?
My Friends meeting in Texarkana tries to have a "Peace Out" every month. This involves going into the community and doing God's work. As we were brainstorming ideas for next month's Peace Out, we thought of several things that might benefit disadvantaged members of the African-American community. One Friend expressed concern that the beneficiaries might be resentful of "these white ladies" (and we all are) coming in where they're not wanted and doing stuff.
Commentary
I don't know if race influences actions more strongly in the South or if we're just more open about it at Quaker meeting, but the subject does seem to come up fairly regularly when we're talking about the Texarkana community. If I were to try to articulate the resentment my friend was concerned about, I think it might go something like this: "these white ladies have no idea what our lives are like, so it's not possible for them to lend a helping hand without judging us, trying to change us, and generally feeling superior to us. Therefore we don't want them around."
This reaction makes me think about Christianity (OK, a lot of things make me think about Christianity). Christians know that God in fact does judge us, wants us to change, and is superior to us. In the book of Job, God makes it pretty clear that He's unconcerned about our resentment (Start from chapter 38 and go from there. You'll get the idea). However, Jesus' incarnation seems to indicate God thought some empathy might be in order. Either that, or He was removing our last stupid excuse for not heeding His word: "you don't know what I'm going through, God. Your opinion doesn't count." Well, now He knows.
So where does that leave a group of white ladies working in an African-American community? Well, I don't think it's true that we have no idea what people's lives are like. We may not be in the same economic or social circumstances, but I think all of us have felt overwhelmed, oppressed, hopeless, unmotivated, and yes, resentful at some time in our lives. If we can offer the empathy that comes from knowing all of us need help sometimes, then perhaps we'll be doing more than just a good deed. We'll actually be furthering God's kingdom.
By the way, here's my favorite joke about empathy: never judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes. That way, when you judge him you'll be a mile away and you'll have his shoes!
What did you hear today?
6/17/2006
I saw an article in the Texarkana Gazette
Context
I go to Quaker meeting in Texarkana, even though I live in Shreveport. Today someone brought a copy of the Texarkana Gazette to meeting, and it had an article about people protesting a home for recovering drug addicts being planned in their neighborhood. This is a quote from the article: “'I don’t know of anybody who really gets off drugs and they come with all that baggage and we don’t want that around our children,' said Sheila Oates, who lives on Stipp Lane not too far from the location."
Commentary
NIMBY-type protests strike me as the worst possible kind of hypocrisy, because the people involved almost always agree that the activity in question is necessary or even desirable, but they don’t want to have to live near it. They’re not anti-nuclear power; they’re pro-making someone else live with the consequences. I suppose I should be happy that some of the protesters in this case are at least being consistent enough to say they don't see any point in attempting to rehabilitate drug users anywhere.
I'm not happy, though. In fact, I find this case particularly irksome, because of something the members of my meeting keep hammering into my head: “everyone around here is a Christian.” The members of my meeting who are not Christian sometimes feel ostracized and persecuted because they don’t believe “correctly.” Or they just don’t bother to tell people and save themselves the grief. So we have a whole city full of Christians which includes at least one neighborhood where they don’t want to have to be around drug addicts. Interesting.
Now, don’t get me wrong. My Lutheran upbringing makes me a strong believer in “saved by grace through faith alone.” There is no action one can take (or not take) to ensure one’s salvation except believing in the Gospel. But I always hope for myself and my brothers and sisters in Christ that after we’ve been saved we will be of some benefit to the rest of the world. Rejecting people at the very moment when they’re trying to turn their lives around doesn’t seem beneficial to anyone, including the Christian children you’re trying to raise.
I think this is a hazard to being a Christian in the South. When being a Christian is the norm, then “normal” behavior, like shielding your children from people with problems, becomes equated with Christian behavior, so it doesn’t need to be examined or questioned. That’s one of the reasons I’m strongly in favor of the separation of church and state. Once we have a “Christian” government, then everything it does will be, by definition, Christian. Yeah, right.
What did you see today?
I go to Quaker meeting in Texarkana, even though I live in Shreveport. Today someone brought a copy of the Texarkana Gazette to meeting, and it had an article about people protesting a home for recovering drug addicts being planned in their neighborhood. This is a quote from the article: “'I don’t know of anybody who really gets off drugs and they come with all that baggage and we don’t want that around our children,' said Sheila Oates, who lives on Stipp Lane not too far from the location."
Commentary
NIMBY-type protests strike me as the worst possible kind of hypocrisy, because the people involved almost always agree that the activity in question is necessary or even desirable, but they don’t want to have to live near it. They’re not anti-nuclear power; they’re pro-making someone else live with the consequences. I suppose I should be happy that some of the protesters in this case are at least being consistent enough to say they don't see any point in attempting to rehabilitate drug users anywhere.
I'm not happy, though. In fact, I find this case particularly irksome, because of something the members of my meeting keep hammering into my head: “everyone around here is a Christian.” The members of my meeting who are not Christian sometimes feel ostracized and persecuted because they don’t believe “correctly.” Or they just don’t bother to tell people and save themselves the grief. So we have a whole city full of Christians which includes at least one neighborhood where they don’t want to have to be around drug addicts. Interesting.
Now, don’t get me wrong. My Lutheran upbringing makes me a strong believer in “saved by grace through faith alone.” There is no action one can take (or not take) to ensure one’s salvation except believing in the Gospel. But I always hope for myself and my brothers and sisters in Christ that after we’ve been saved we will be of some benefit to the rest of the world. Rejecting people at the very moment when they’re trying to turn their lives around doesn’t seem beneficial to anyone, including the Christian children you’re trying to raise.
I think this is a hazard to being a Christian in the South. When being a Christian is the norm, then “normal” behavior, like shielding your children from people with problems, becomes equated with Christian behavior, so it doesn’t need to be examined or questioned. That’s one of the reasons I’m strongly in favor of the separation of church and state. Once we have a “Christian” government, then everything it does will be, by definition, Christian. Yeah, right.
What did you see today?
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