Earlier this month, I wrote about occasions when we may be unclear about whether our guidance is real.* In the middle of a week of meditation, I had been inspired to take off on a trip, and I didn't know if that was guidance or a distraction from spiritual work in front of me at home. A few days later that was resolved. Every now and again, there are moments when I struggle with knowing what is real.
There are times, however, when I am certain my guidance is real beyond a shadow of a doubt. Today was one of those days. In yesterday's post, I wrote about being conflicted about what I should do this afternoon after church. I was torn between something I felt would be growthful and had been planned previously and something that had just arisen that was clearly out of my comfort zone. In keeping with my intention to be really present and to be conscious of my decisions, I didn't even try to decide before I left for church, but did take things--food and clothes--that kept my options open.
The event about which I had been conflicted was a protest on behalf of refugees being held at airports or being turned back after years of vetting. One story of a family, where one of the parents had worked for our government in Iraq and was in danger, had been in the vetting queue for 14 years. They were finally cleared to come, and yesterday they were in flight to the US when they were taken off the plane at a stop in Cairo and sent back to Baghdad.
I wrote last week about my intense compassion for the refugee crisis and how, now that I am in this exploration period, opportunities to connect with people supporting those individuals had started falling in my lap.+ I felt like the news stories over the last 36 hours, sharing the plight of these individuals, some of whom were already permanent residents of the US and were living in our country but had been abroad, were just one more opportunity to learn about this international crisis.
Then, in her message today, our assistant rector spoke about conviction. She started her remarks by talking about courtrooms, where a conviction is supposed to reflect certainty about the defendant's guilt. Then she broadened to explore how the convictions that we express in our words should be reflected as certainty as our actions.
All that brings me to my dilemma about what I would do after church. The event which arose last night was a protest at the White House on behalf of those refugees being detained, turned back, or even those who may never get the opportunity to come to this country--a country from before its founding has been known to open its arms to those in need. I have never participated in a protest before. Not my style. So definitely out of my comfort zone.
And, it was cold. The temperature was cold but between the wind and the dampness in the air, the wind-chill factor was another eight degrees colder. I don't deal well with being cold either. Definitely out of my physical comfort zone as well.
Yet as I walked out of church, it was clear to me where I was to spend my afternoon. I was both in the present and being very conscious of my decision-making. If my convictions about the refugee crisis were real, the my actions should reflect them. Intentions are nothing if we don't act upon them. So, I layered up, ate a snack I had brought with me, and joined a small handful of others from my congregation and the crowd assembling nearby.
I tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve, and for some reason, this issue has them ever closer to the skin. I find that every time I speak with someone about the issue my voice will crack at some point, and often a tear will come to my eye--just as happened 18 months ago when I saw the photograph of the dead child on the beach. The same thing happened repeatedly during the demonstration today. I would join in a chant, such as "No hate! No fear! Refugees are welcome here." I could not get the words out of my mouth without my voice cracking and tears coming to my eyes. Over and over again.
Some of the signs moved me to tears. A number being carried by people in their 60s and 70s which said, "I am the child of a refugee." I can imagine, given their ages, that they might be children of Holocaust survivors. Some were citations of scriptures from various holy books. There were moving photographs, such as the ones of Anne Frank juxtapositioned with one of a small Syrian girl, with the words "This generation's Anne Frank is a girl from Syria." I was moved by a drawing woman in a hijab, made of the American flag. With each of these, I would choke up. There was absolutely no doubt that I was fully present. My convictions were clearly being cemented.
Whether God want me to take off on a trip across the country in January may not be clear to me, but what I am absolutely certain about is that today God was speaking to me and asking me what I was going to do with my convictions.
This afternoon and evening I have been recalling the Hannah Arendt's writing about Nazi Germany, which I quoted in Choice Point:
"...that evil empire
could only proceed if evil became banal, or common. For something obviously wrong to proceed,
multiple consciences must stop working.
Entire communities must grow numb and choose not to see any connection
between abusive behavior and oneself....”
I really don't know the answer to what I can do about my convictions, but I refuse for my conscience to stop working. I refuse to grow numb. I know that there is a connection between this behavior and me, and I will do what I can stop it, whatever that is. This evening I did sign up for a webinar and a city-wide meeting about the crisis. When God speaks to me this clearly, I am certain that the next step will be clear to me.
* "How Do I Know?" (1/8/17)
+ "Ladybugs" (1/17/17)
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