Disempowering Disappointment

"That's life, sugar." How many times have I heard this phrase? The three words are my father's most common response to the challenges that appear to be intent on disrupting our plans, efforts, and goals. As I have matured, it has become clear that the matter-of-fact tone of my father's delivery was never a lesson in futility. Rather it was his call for me to disempower my disappointments thereby not allowing them to define my existence.

From an economic perspective, history will inevitably chronicle this time as a period of great disappointment. Hopefully, it will also resonate with the legacy of a people who chose to disempower their disappointment  by feeding the hungry; clothing the naked; nursing the infirmed; embracing the gay; welcoming the immigrant; visiting the imprisoned; and proffering goodwill. In turn, may we expand our horizon enough to see that dignity is not a financial commodity; and relationships with the Divine, self and others are the only true investments.

The Fragrance of This Dawn

What do you smell?
What fragrance kisses your nose this dawn?

Grief offers nights with no end, no sleep.
The memory of this early walk is no more.
Has exhaustion given way to sleep?
Are you now sleeping?
Surely, this is a dream.

The weight of your spices is forgotten.
Their aroma made impotent.
Prepared for the stench,
Reason cannot grasp this.
What do you smell?
What fragrance kisses your nose this dawn?

You stand alone at the entrance.
His body is no longer here.
You question your sight.
No cold corpse to touch.
Surely, this is a vision.

With your pulse racing,
you question yourself.
Your eagerness to serve leaves you
not knowing what to do?
What do you smell?
What fragrance kisses your nose this dawn?

You are indeed awake.
Early you came to prepare his body,
his lifeless body,
the body that is not here.
Where is the stench of death?

The other women arrive
before you gather yourself.
Stunned, they too share in this reality.
You hear each gasp.
What do you smell?
What fragrance kisses your nose this dawn?

Tell us Maryam,
What is the fragrance of  resurrection?

Seeing You

Seeing your body
struggling to breathe,
yielding to pain,
as your senses are assaulted.
You are robed in agony.

Seeing you hunted for so long.
Who can count the lies, traps and distortions?
Had they nothing to do of worth?
They sought to tear you
from those who love you,
from those you love.

Seeing you there it seems so far away.
Only my grief can bridge the distance
from there where you hang
to here where we sob.
I know of blood spilled
by stones, by sword, by cross.
No, it never makes sense.

Seeing your tears, sweat and blood
trickle down your flesh
mingling with dirt and dust,
yet not being able to comfort you is a curse.

Seeing you there in your broken humanity.
Your nakedness I do not see
though surely it is before me.
What is nakedness
at a time such is this?
I have been blinded by your agony.
My senses are useless.

I am not to look upon one who is unclothed,
but not to see you in this moment
allows me to try to deny this reality.
What solace is there in denying what is?

Gazing upon you is the only way
to share in your agony,
in the humility and sorrow
of your final hours...your final moments.
You are not alone, my child.

Soraya Manutchehri, Today I Wept for You

I began writing this on the morning of August 12, 2009. Unfortunately, the pain of writing of this young woman's tragic death was too much to bear. If you have not viewed or read The Stoning of Soraya M., I strongly encourage you to do so. - Leslye

Sitting in morning prayer, I again thought of you and the circumstances that sought to dehumanize you. Hatred, selfishness, lies, threats, conspiracy, distortion, deceit, contempt, ignorance, fear - these are but a few of the stones used to murder you.

You were not an ignorant victim, but a loving mother. You recognized that your marriage was no longer. You simply wanted a little more time to save money for your daughters and yourself. Until the end, you sought to protect them from the injustice of society that would have left them impoverished as the daughters of a divorced woman.

Having come to know you, Soraya Manutchehri, I cannot hear the story of the woman who was brought before Yeshua after she had been allegedly caught in adultery without thinking of you. If only  humanity had taken to heart the words, "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone." 

***

A week ago, a friend and I went to see The Stoning of Soraya M. Based upon Freidoune Sahebjam's book of the same title, the movie introduced us to Soraya Manutchehri, a young Iranian woman trapped in an abusive marriage.

The Question and Prayer of Holy Week

Gasping for each painful breath, dying upon the splintered cross, you said, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” And we question how this could be. How could they not know what they were doing?

They were characters in the greatest story of all time. The inconceivable foretold by prophets was far from fiction. It was reality in an unprecedented form as the Divine lived the human experience. 

Pondering their actions leads us to ponder our own. Often, we too do not know what we are doing. Again, how can this be? What is it to know? How can I not know what I do when I follow the greatest teacher of all time? How closely do I follow you, Yeshua?

Whether from personal experience or group indoctrination, it seems easy to question the intentions and actions of others. They are with us or they are not. Our perceptions and assumptions quickly lead us to build another divisive wall that merely hinders the common good and perpetuates our not knowing.

Yes, Yeshua, I know that challenging the status quo by accepting and embracing the unclean and the marginalized as they were, where they were, was your way of life. Being in solidarity with them and moving beyond barriers was how you lived your faith. In doing so, you called us to question our contributions to unjust systems.

Whether blind, infirmed, lepers, tax collectors, Gentiles, Samaritans or women, they all came to you. Each encounter including journeying across a divisive wall. Yet, not one did you condemn or disrespect according to the standards of the system. Not one. With compassion and mercy, God always meets us where we are. This I know.

So, what is it that I do not know? Am I to accept and embrace those who are ill? Am I to accept and embrace those with different political perspectives? Am I to accept and embrace those who are of other faiths? Am I to accept and embrace people regardless of their sexual orientation? Am I to accept and embrace those who live on the streets? Am I to accept and embrace immigrants, refugees, and others who do not share my nationality?

You taught us to love God with all of our being, and to love others as ourself. Yes, I am to accept and embrace others. Again, what do I not know? Am I blind to it? Am I so focused on my reality that the reality of others is irrelevant? Is there a disconnect between what I know intellectually and the daily living of it? Is what I know simply what I profess on Sunday and leave on the pew until the next weekend?

How can what I know become my way of life, how I live my faith? As I ponder this, thank you for forgiving me when I do not know what I am doing. Desiring to follow in your footprints, my prayer is that you help me forgive those who do not know what they are doing.