Imagination for Peace

Violence is all over the news right now -- and usually is.  Some incidents seem more senseless than others, and I think we react more strongly when we don't understand or can't comprehend the motives or reason behind it all.

This morning, Justin led the Quiet Garden time at the manse, choosing several poems which spoke of God in nature, of stillness, and of natural beauty.  One poem, known by many, is Mary Oliver's Wild Geese.  Towards the end of the poem, a line reads, "Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination."

That line struck me in particular, as I've been musing this week over the turmoil in the Middle East, in Ukraine, on the US/Mexico border...And I wonder if, perhaps, violence often comes about because we have forgotten to use our imaginations -- we have reduced ourselves to less than what we were created to be.

In conflicts between Jews and Muslims (with Christians scattered in there, too), when does the imagination or inspiration kick in, that they realise they believe in the same Creator God (even if "things went wrong" further down the development of a particular religion, or we call that God by different names)?  Creator God made space in creation for diversity -- we see it across the natural world.

Violence can often be perpetrated in words, and again, I experience that as a lack of imagination.  When I worked in the public school system, one of my colleagues impressed upon the students that using "bad" words was easy, and got some point across, but that it really demonstrated a lack of imagination.  Coarse language might achieve an immediate, entertaining effect, but doesn't imagine that there's any way to better the situation.  Imaginative language humanises and can change minds.

And physical violence...Why do we only put our imagination to use in creating more 'effective' bombs, fighter planes, weapons?  God's gift of imagination isn't, I think, meant to destroy God's creation; rather, it's meant to enhance our experience of God.

It's been awhile since I've read it, but The Moral Imagination came to mind as an example of how we can think bigger and better, and the incredible, life-giving things that can happen when we do.

I leave you with my scattered thoughts and the entirety of Mary Oliver's poem:

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhil the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - 

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

As of late...

Life has almost been too busy to stop and reflect in the last month or so.  First, as I wrote in the last post, there was the Youth Service which took a lot of time (and some recovery from). 

Then, last minute planning and prep kicked into high gear for our Church Weekend Away.  For the past 10 years or so, the church has gone to Othona, which is apparently a bit like Iona, in that it's a community set up around an ancient Christian worship site.  The chapel there, St. Peter-on-the-wall, was built nearly 1400 years ago -- a staggering number for those of us, particularly in the States, whose oldest buildings (of the white, Christian world) are only a couple hundred years at best.  (There are some buildings, of course, in the States like Taos Pueblo, which are dated back 1000 years...which is mind-blowing as well.)

Othona is at the end of the road, next to the Thames Estuary (a.k.a. "the sea").  It's a quiet place with unassuming beauty, and it was a treat to soak up the dark, silent nights.  Justin says that there's something about what a person experienced early in their lives as to how they best fall asleep -- for me, a country girl, getting the opportunity to sleep in deep dark and quiet is optimal, I guess :)

Photo of the chapel by David Jacobs from bradwellchapel.org

Sandwiched in between the busy events are the various sporting events that I watch by proxy.  World Cup football/soccer, the Tour de France as it whizzed by us in east London via the Olympic Park, Wimbledon, and motor sports.  Sometimes I think it's Justin's part-time job to keep up with all the sport happenings....

Watching the Tour whizzzzz by in a matter of seconds ... after waiting for hours.

And we've been incredibly blessed the last couple weeks to have a variety of friends and supporters from home visit us.  It helps us slow down when we have visitors around.  And the icing on the cake is that we have the much-anticipated treat of Justin's parents and friends here this weekend.   After having a relatively dry and warm summer, it looks like they'll arrive at just the right time to experience a true London forecast full of rain, rain, and more rain.  That shan't dampen our spirits!