Wisdom of the Ages

Tonight on The New Hampshire Debates, Fred Thompson mentioned this term. He may have repeated it more than once in the midst of a conversation about how politicians change their perspective. A similar conversation would erupt between Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton in the next hour. John Edwards chimed into this conversation to talk about change. And yet, I wonder if Fred Thompson's word choice wasn't more significant when he called upon the wisdom of the ages.

This is a religious theme. To my quick Biblical search, the exact term does not appear in the Bible -- though wisdom is certainly an important theme. The Books of Wisdom in the Hebrew Scriptures include the books of Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Solomon. These are songs and stories that delve into the reality of human experience in its joy and its pain. And yet, these are not the voices that come to mind when Fred Thompson uses this term the wisdom of the ages. My mind races to the prophets who call for change as John Edwards cites outside of a Biblical context. My mind wonders about the justice and peace that have been held in the center of the Biblical understanding of the world. Then, I start to sing the Psalms, "How long O Lord?" (Psalm 13:1, NRSV).

My Lord is not the candidates that debate upon my television screen tonight. My hope lies outside of their wisdom, experience and arguments so I will continue to sing in tune with the Psalmist. And yet, what floors me about the choice of Fred Thompson's words is that simple fact that my Biblical understanding is always changing -- as it seems our political candidates continue to evolve over a short period of time. This makes sense to me. It makes sense that time and circumstance should change how one sees the world and its needs. While pollsters refer to this as flip-flopping, I wonder if this isn't maturity, study and perhaps even prayer.

As Fred Thompson used this familiar term, I wondered about how our Biblical understanding continues to evolve -- and should evolve -- if we are careful in our study. With time and study, we have learned that Leviticus 18:22 and Romans 1:26-27 does not condemn homosexaulity but refers to a particular socio-historical context. We have also learned how to understand how the evolving Jesus Movement learned to impose laws on each other that limited the authority of women in 2 Timothy 2:11-14. We've learned how to ignore or argue with these texts as much as we argue with each other. We are learning from this canon of sacred text because it is alive -- as alive as we are now. It's not flip-floping but learning through the ages how to gather wisdom. It might take two, three or four years. It may take 2,000 years. We only know that it takes time.

My question at the end of this debate is not about how we gather wisdom. My question is not about the life experiences that inform each of these candidates or even each of the American citizens. Instead, I'm left to ponder Fred Thompson's words. I wonder about the wisdom of the ages and how that wisdom connects with our here and now. But, most of all, I wonder about who we are listening to. I wonder about who in our present reality we look for for wisdom when we are so quickly to condemn, argue and belittle our fellow sojourners. I wonder where we seek and find wisdom in our present age.

Prophetic Words of Hope

I admit that I have not chosen my desired candidate from the various primaries of way-too-many candidates. It has just seemed too much -- even though I have had my eye on a select few. I haven't chosen. I have attempted to not be swept up in the political glory of what is happening in Iowa right now. I'm trying not to pay attention because most of it is just silly name calling and pointing fingers. (Honestly, it's childish).

And then, I opened my browser and the New York Times annouced Obama Triumphs in Iowa Contest as Clinton Falters; Huckabee Rolls. So I started to read this lead article and found these words:

“They said this day would never come. They said our sights were set too high. They said this country was too divided, too disillusioned, to come together over a common purpose...You have done what the cynics said you couldn’t do. You have done what the state of New Hampshire can do in five days. You have done what america can do in this new year, 2008. We are one nation, we are one people, and the time for change has come.”

My heart swoons.

It's a little Don Quixote -- and yet, it's that impossible hope that gives me hope. We can overcome. There will be change. There is more to come. Hope is not impossible. Dream the imposible dream. Sing, if you like. (I learned this entire score in high school Spanish, so I'll sing in Spanish.) I'm not sure if I can get that swept up when the man only got 37.5 percent of the 97 percent of tallied votes. It's the majority -- but can I really allow myself to fall in love with Barack Obama?

Unanswered Prayers

I just signed a petition to Save Darfur. It's a simple request. Or at least, this is what I pray. It's a reminder to President Bush to make peacekeeping effective. Of course, it seems that peacekeeping is not something that the present administration does effectively, if at all. But, I can still pray.

The petition asks for these prayerful petitions:

1. A strong mandate to protect civilians.
2. Management of the mission by the United Nations.
3. A sufficient level of troops and police drawn from around the world.
4. Mobile resources and equipment needed for quick response across Darfur's challenging terrain.
5. A strong emphasis on civilian and humanitarian needs.
6. Sufficient funding from the international community.

And then, the reply came from the White House. Too quickly, I might add. There isn't even a glimmer of hope that this message was read. It's just an automated reply, reading:

On behalf of President Bush, thank you for your correspondence.

We appreciate hearing your views and welcome your suggestions.

Due to the large volume of e-mail received, the White House cannot respond to every message.

Thank you again for taking the time to write.

Father Knows Best

Or men do. Somehow, men seem to get to make the final decisions. There are some women -- of various ages -- that even defer to the wisdom of men. And there are men that assert their own opinions over others. Thank you, Mr. President.

Our men in power seem to be making destructive decisions -- decisions that will alter and perhaps erase history. So it is with the history of Roe v. Wade at least. I offer the words of another Nation article, this editorial penned by Katha Pollitt:

"Beyond all this, it's flatly outrageous that five men--five devout Catholic men, 56 percent of the court--can impose their will on women's bodies, talking about "anatomical landmarks" as if a woman's reproductive system were some kind of national park. None of them will ever be pregnant or want or need an abortion. That should have made them humble. I wonder if anyone reading this will live to see a Supreme Court in which a five-woman majority rules on an issue in which the reproductive lives of men, and only men, are at stake. Right now, Ruth Bader Ginsburg is all alone up there, watching her legacy go up in smoke."

Father might know best, but I've always been listening for Mother. Even when she wasn't around to offer her insight. Even when I could hear her -- because I knew that her legacy mattered as much as my own. What legacy will we leave?

Yellow Ribbons

3200 US soldiers have died in the Iraq war. The toll gets higher and higher everyday. Never mind the number of Iraqis, Iranians, Afgahnis and how many others have died. By the way, if you have not counted the numbers recently and said your own prayer of lament, here is your chance: http://www.antiwar.com/casualties/. [Prayerful silence.] Amen. So, you understand my concern. But, this death toll only struck our community a week ago. In this new home of mine, the community mourned the loss of our first loss. He was only 21. He was recently married. His name was Angel Rosa and he was Hispanic. I didn't think that last fact was important detail.

That is, until this week. This week, our community mourned the loss of another young man. He was also recently married and only 24. His name was Jason Swiger. And Jason was white.


And it was after his death that the yellow ribbons started to appear. They outline my drive from home to church like breadcrumbs to prevent any of us from getting lost. They are all over the place. I understand that this path was created from the tender grief of the friends and family of Jason Swiger. But, I have to wonder. Where were the ribbons last week? Why did they not appear until after our second loss?

I didn't think that race was important. I didn't think that it mattered that Angel Rosa was Hispanic. But, there were no ribbons when we were mourning Angel. There was confusion and sadness. There was woundedness. But, there were no ribbons. And now, there is an entire path. I hate to think that it's a race thing. But, I wonder.

An American President

It seems that the controversy over what kind of candidate America is ready for have died away. It was two weeks ago that there was an article in my copy of The Nation reported on the issue. Perhaps we are no longer concerned about a black president. Or worse -- a woman. Perhaps we are maturing.

But, then, as I read the continuing reports on the health of Elizabeth Edwards tonight, I wondered. The New York Times quotes Mrs. Edwards: “I expect to live a long time. I expect us to have lots and lots of years together. I do believe that. But if that’s not the case, I don’t want my legacy to be that I pulled somebody who ought to be president out of the race. It’s not fair to me, in a sense.” I have an unsettled feeling about this comment.

Please forgive me for whatever insensitivity I might imply here. My mother died of cancer. And I spent this week in the hospital with a dying patient (who apparently has not yet died -- according today's paper). I'm a little sensitive myself. But, if this seems insensitive, please forgive me. Now, without further apology, my heart wonders if Mrs. Edwards is kidding herself. In no way do I think she should reveal to the public how long the doctors expect her to live, anymore than I understand that science has all the answers. But, this comment seems naive. It seems so deliriously hopeful that I fear for both John and Elizabeth Edwards.

I wonder if our conversation as a country should focus more on the personas in leadership. Not black. Not white. Not male. Not female. Not Republican. Not Democrat. Instead, I wonder if we should wonder about the emotional stability of the person that we ask to lead us. As a culture that does not grieve, can we really be lead by the grieving? Whether or not Mrs. Edwards faces an imminent death, we do know that her cancer is incurable. It's fatal. Like all of us, she will die. But, it seems that she will die soon. We don't know how soon. Only that she will die soon. This is going to impact the lives of the Edwards family. It may cause rash choices. It may cause more conservative choices -- none of which may be political. But, this news will cloud everything that happens in every day to come in the lives of both John and Elizabeth Edwards. And so I wonder. Are we able to walk with them in their grief?

I don't know.