anti-war, Liberation Theology

our politics are still boring

At the turn of the millennium, Crimethinc produced a great and still relevant piece,Your Politics Are Boring As F*ck.” They describe how practitioners of radical political ideologies are going about things the wrong way. One delightful example posited spending the afternoon collecting food from businesses, who were going to throw it away anyway, to share it with the hungry comparing that with writing an editorial to a leftist paper about their improper use of “anarcho-syndicalism.” The article ends with a delightful list of how not to make politics boring:

  • Make politics relevant to our everyday experience of life again. The farther away the object of our political concern, the less it will mean to us, the less real and pressing it will seem to us, and the more wearisome politics will be.
  • All political activity must be joyous and exciting in itself. You cannot escape from dreariness with more dreariness.
  • To accomplish those first two steps, entirely new political approaches and methods must be created. The old ones are outdated, outmoded. Perhaps they were NEVER any good, and that’s why our world is the way it is now.
  • Enjoy yourselves! There is never any excuse for being bored… or boring!

Yet, while I thoroughly enjoy and agree with the article I think it needs to emphasize even more so: EVERY ACT WE COMMIT IS POLITICAL, whether or not we see it as such. Who one hangs out with, the city one lives in, what you buy or not buy for groceries, what you’re watching on TV, etc. etc. IT’S ALL POLITICAL! And so it seems to think that political action happens every four years is an utter and complete farce.

For me though, political discourse can be oh so boring because US politics is extremely circular. The US must always have an enemy, who appears evil and hurts their citizens. The US must threaten and at least appear to defeat such enemy for the sake of democracy. The problem though is that the US oligarchy controls our political discourse. Even in my circles, questions do not arise as to whether or not the enemy of the US government is actually the enemy of the US people. I, for sure, do not have qualms with Afghanis, Yemenis, Iraqis, North Korean citizens, and so on. Rather, those whom I disagree with and challenge are already in my community: police and local politicians.

We must move away from imperial discourse and move towards local discourse! 

Of course, this is not going to end the Tr*mp drama, but it will grant us the energy to move towards what is important: the marginalized, poor, and sick among us. In a few weeks, I’m preaching on the “Good Samaritan.”* I gather from this ancient story that your neighbor is the person spatially closest to you. In other words, it can be good to have an interest in the Middle East or Latin America, but what are you doing for your neighbors within reach. I find Jesus’ parable compelling in the fact that the Samaritan touched and bandaged the beat up, bloodied man. I often do not have the courage to act in such a way.

Our politics are boring because we’d rather spend our time and energy with those who share similar ideologies. I too am guilty of this. And it’s difficult to share with my moderate/liberal friends an anarcho-communist vision of the world. Don’t get me started on reactions to Fully Automated Luxury Gay Space Communism! Because honestly, who cares? Who cares if I can quote Marx, EZLN, and obscure theologians in the same sentence? I do, certainly! But how am I going to show compassion to those who sleep on the church steps or foster relationships with people I encounter every day because if I am not doing that then my politics should be boring.

The Good Samaritan by Christopher Ruane

The Good Samaritan by Christopher Ruane

*Luke 10:25-37
“Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus.
“Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?”
He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,
and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind;
and your neighbor as yourself.”
And he said to him,
“You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”

But wanting to justify himself,
he asked Jesus,
“And who is my neighbor?”

Jesus replied,
“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho,
and fell into the hands of robbers,
who stripped him, beat him, and went away,
leaving him half dead.
Now by chance a priest was going down that road;
and when he saw him,
he passed by on the other side.
So likewise a Levite,
when he came to the place and saw him,
passed by on the other side.
But a Samaritan while traveling came near him;
and when he saw him,
he was moved with pity.
He went to him and bandaged his wounds,
having poured oil and wine on them.
Then he put him on his own animal,
brought him to an inn,
and took care of him.
The next day he took out two denarii,
gave them to the innkeeper, and said,
‘Take care of him; and when I come back,
I will repay you whatever more you spend.’
Which of these three,
do you think,
was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?”
He said, “The one who showed him mercy.”
Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.””

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Beliefs, Christainity

overthinking my iraqi kurdistan delegation in hopes for transformation

Intrinsic to fundraising is how one sells it. This certainly was true when I told others about my upcoming delegation to Kurdistan with Presbyterian Peace Fellowship and Christian Peacemaker Teams. Either people have never heard of Kurdistan or understand it as being an ally for the US. I usually had to explain how Kurdistan is situated between Turkey, Iraq, and Syria. That many Kurds are non-violently resisting against several opposing forces: the Turkish and Iraqi military,  Daesh/ISIL, and the US forces on the ground. Then, I’m usually asked, “Why do you care?” With urgent fervor, I respond by saying, “I’m going as a global citizen. I’m going because the voices of the poor and those acting nonviolently around the world are forcibly silenced. I’m going to come back and testify at the Presbyterian General Assembly to what I saw. To witness to their struggle for peace.” Usually at this point, I get a smirk and nod which fades deadpan. The conversation moves on.

Maybe too much.jpg
Self-reflecting on the upcoming delegation, a question keeps creeping into my mind: what if I go and I’m not transformed? That I come back to the States and I continue to live as if I had never left. Maybe it’s just those blasted Derridan ethics that continually haunt me, that says over and over, if you think you’re acting responsible, you’re edging on carelessness; if you’re not anxious, then you’re comfortable being apathetic; IF YOU’RE NOT STRUGGLING FOR PEACE, THEN THE WORLD WILL PERPETUALLY BE IN WAR. Honestly, these ethics are impossible. And that’s the point. Until heaven meets Earth, global utopia is more than farfetched, but that doesn’t mean I do nothing. All this overthinking has made me cautious about what I will bring with me. I want to be in the moment and least distracted.

For this delegation, I’m praying and hoping to be hospitable in action and in listening. I am not fully sure of what to expect. I’ve never been across the Atlantic or have even thought about going to the regions near Iraq or Turkey. I covet your prayers for our delegation that we may be faithful peace witnesses, nonviolent in speech and heart. I hoping for a safe journey, but not a comfortable one.

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