Small World

I just got my Powerbook back, so please indulge me while I blather and fulminate and make up for lost time. First, huge kiitos to Tomte for the lovely updates to the blog, to Ilmarinen for posting (and deleting as needed), and to all of you for keeping the conversation going. It will take me some time (understatement) to wade through old comments.

Have you heard about "addiction transfer"? It has been in the news recently in reference to gastric bypass patients who become, post-surgery, addicted to alcohol. Get one monkey off your back, another one hops on, so to speak. Stop eating, start drinking. Stop drinking, start clinging to dogma. Right? It would explain why there is no zeal like that of a convert . . . the zeal is steady even when the object isn't. And it could be why Laestadianism attracts some personalities more than others. I suspect that for some folks, if you took the exclusiveness (fear and scorn) out of Laestadianism, it would be like taking the nicotine out of a cigarette.

Somewhat related: Our daughter came home singing "It's a Small World" yesterday, sending me reeling back to 1970 and elementary school.

It's a world of laughter, a world of tears
It's a world of hopes, it's a world of fears
There's so much that we share that it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all

There is just one moon and one golden sun
and a smile means friendship to everyone
Though the mountains divide and the oceans are wide
It's a small, small world.

Well, I learned that song in 4th grade, when Ms. Reese cast me as the American girl in her school play. I wore a red, white and blue costume and long braids, travelled "the world" with my redhead pal Larry, met Santa Lucia, sang "Konichiwa means Good Day in Japan" and learned to toss and catch sticks rythmically while sitting like a chief. The rehearsals were outrageously fun and I overcame my stage fright for our one performance, not missing a line.

Wherever you are, Ms. Reese, thank you. You could not persuade my parents to advance me a grade, but you did better: you inspired me to see strangers as potential friends, not "worldlies." (Now how do I get that dang song out of my head?!)

More or less apropos, I'd like to share an email from a reader:

"We had a big snowstorm last week and my husbands sister and brother in law were on vacation. Me and my husband went over to her house to shovel out their driveway before they got back. As I was shoveling, an African American lady came to help from across the street and asked if we needed some help and offered to let us use her snowblower. She seemed rather friendly, so I struck up a small conversation with her, asking her how long she had lived in Minnesota, etc. I told her that my family is Swedish and Finnish (I was actually born in northern Sweden)...and she told me that her husband is Finn. Out of curiousity, I asked if her husband had any ties to the Apostolic church. Sure enough . . . Marion Hallberg. This lady invited me and my 3 year old daughter in her house and we had lunch and talked about some of the interesting aspects of being around those people. She remarked that I look a lot like the OALC'ers, even though I was from the FALC... I know a lot about the OALC because it was similar to how I grew up and I attended services there a few times, out of curiosity. I was just shocked to meet someone that was so close to Marion (I have never met her, but was touched by what people said about her on this site). I have no connection to the FALC anymore, but still enjoy conversing with others who have left and those from other sects of the church. This is basically my invisible "social network", which still keeps me in touch with my culture and my upbringing."

I'm glad she shared that. Dunnit warm your cockles?

Peace all.

Bred Dina Vida Vingar

To OALCer who asks what churches we attend, may I suggest that it doesn't matter? If you want to find our what makes someone tick, you need to go deeper. I appreciate the desire to find categories for people; it's natural. But it doesn't get you far. Within the OALC there are people who don't agree with what you have posted here. I just talked to an OALCer who thinks it is sinful to judge another's spiritual state and that it is "un-Christlike" to shun those who leave the OALC. (Unfortunately, this person is not a preacher.)

That said, I go to an ELCA church, when I'm not visiting an Episcopal or Congregational or something-other church, or staying home with the New York Times and a Thermos of coffee. So sue me! For all the wonderful things a church can do, it cannot stand in for one's relationship to God, and it sure can get in the way of it, if allowed.

Today our pastor gave a stirring sermon about the need to resist a culture of hedonism and to fight for social justice. She described a recent meeting with a senator who received so much hate mail from "Christians" after supporting some civil rights legislation that the senator concluded they "can't be on the right side" if God is, as Christ said, love.

We were urged today not to retreat into ourselves but to be "engaged with the world" on behalf of the poor, as Jesus was. Love in action.

Mentally, I contrasted this message with the Laestadian ethos of avoiding the world, which seems, well, so much easier. Especially in our modern age when we are constantly exposed to the suffering. If you spend even a few honest minutes thinking about how many children died today in Darfur, you are motivated to either (1) distract yourself or (2) do something -- however small.

Later in the service, to my surprise and delight, came a blast from the past: "Bred Dina Vida Vingar"(the entire first line came flooding back, in Swedish no less!). In English it is called The Holy Wings. Is this hymn also familiar to you? I sang out with joy. It was one of those "full circle" moments, where I returned to a place where I once stood, but no longer in shackles. (I'm no more Lutheran than Chinese, but boy am I happy to sing that good ol' Lutheran music!)

Today in the NYT Sunday Magazine there is an intriguing, heavy-weight article (warning: do not attempt to read it in a noisy room) about faith and science. It includes a novel theory that belief and skepticism are tandem evolutionary adaptations. In other words, our age-old disagreements have ensured our survival as a species (if not, alas, as individuals in the crosshairs, or bonfires). We need each other.

For some reason this concept cheered me. What we argue when we argue about faith is usually immaterial (pun intended). And if it is true that some of us are "programmed," as it were, to be more or less faithful, how is that different than being blue-eyed or brown, smart or simple?

The dishes still need doing.