December 25, 2011
SONG FOR A SEASON . . . AND A MOVEMENT
Gregory Talipson
a.k.a. Snark
One carried a sign saying "I'll Believe A Corporation Is A Person As Soon As Texas Executes One!" Another was all worked up about the plight of polar bears in an ever-warming climate and carried a large picture-poster showing a mother polar bear and two cubs adrift on an impossibly tiny patch of ice. Others were content simply to carry signs saying "Down With Up!"
Yep, the Occupy Movement has finally arrived in our town along with tinsel, mistletoe, Santa and 40% Off sales at most of the merchants along Park Avenue and Main Street . . . all of this, just in time for Christmas.
To say that they have "arrived" isn't really accurate. Rather the movement here has "emerged" out of the ranks of our own populace. Students from the nearby community college and the university are camped out in a park down by the river a couple of blocks from City Hall. They've been joined by lots of different sorts of folks from many walks of life, all of whom have the sense that the country is headed in the wrong direction and wanting to do something about it.
Last week, they were joined by our friend and Elsewhere member Ludvic, who lost his job as a dockhand down on the canal due to lack of business there. Ludvic has a keen sense of justice he inherited from his folks who, for many years, suffered under political and economic injustice "back in the old country."
Over a cup of coffee down at Elsewhere a few days before Christmas, he reported that nearly all the occupiers are of the opinion that if members of the U.S. House of Representatives can't find it in their hearts to cooperate, stop throwing bombs at sensible proposals to help the country pull out of its tailspin, and re-establish a more just distribution of opportunity . . . in other words, if they're not going to do the jobs for which they have been elected . . . then the next occupy encampment should be on Capitol Hill where, linked arm-in-arm, their human chain would non-violently prevent the House members from re-entering the Capitol when they return in late January or February . . . or whenever they choose to come back from their winter junkets to the Caribbean: where, the representatives will say, they've been doing the people's business by investigating local efforts to prevent beach erosion caused by tropical hurricanes . . . and all of them will be sporting genuine, carcinogenic suntans . . . not the more-healthful-but-fake, cheesy orange spray tan of one of their leaders.
Ludvic thinks most of the more thoughtful members want banking and lending reforms that are rational and free from racism; action on a sane and humane immigration policy; and structural changes so that the opportunity to improve ones life is more equitably spread to everybody. Ideas about how any of this should be accomplished, he says, run the gamut.
About a week before Christmas, Margaret and I were joined by others at Elsewhere in doing some theological reflecting on this movement in our midst. Eventually, we came to see that the Occupy Movement is a Christmas sort of event! No, not because of the tinsel and the mistletoe and the gift exchange . . . though that's all fine . . . as long as the gift-giving doesn't turn into a mindless potlatch.
The Occupy Movement is a Christmas sort of event, but not in the manner of the living nativity tableau that is going to happen at Advocatus' church on Christmas Eve. That wonderful story has some theological possibilities with regard to the Occupy Movement: like the "no room at the inn" theme. Just like the gift-giving ritual, that nativity tableau is all fine . . . as long as other aspects of the Christmas story aren't forgotten in our intense focus on the sweetness of the Baby Jesus.
Regrettably, though, because the annual "bathrobe Christmas dramas" of the churches have routinely and forever focused on the baby Jesus, an unintended consequence has been to sentimentalize Christmas. This has gotten so deeply enmeshed in the popular understanding of Christianity that it has contributed to making the entire Christian enterprise a mere cultural ornament in the minds of many.
God usually finds a way to right the ship when it's in danger of capsizing. God's method of choice is frequently that of satire, as it was in1511 when Erasmus published his critique of church and society called In Praise of Folly. The overly-sentimentalized version of Christianity (and a whole lot else!) got its "Erasmus treatment" back in 2006 in Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, starring Will Ferrell as a champion NASCAR driver in the title role.
In one hilarious scene, he says grace at the dinner table, praying to "Dear lord baby Jesus." After going on for awhile in this manner, his wife Carley, played by Leslie Bibb, says: "Hey, um, you know, Sweetie, Jesus did grow up. You don't always have to call him, 'baby.' It's a bit odd and off-putting to pray to a baby." Ignoring Carley's apt comment and more finely tuned theological sensibilities, Ricky retorts: "Well, I like the Christmas Jesus best and I'm saying grace." After several other characters weigh in, the dialogue returns to an unfazed Ricky who prays: "Dear 8-pound, 6-ounce, newborn infant Jesus, don't even know a word yet, just a little infant and so cuddly, but still omnipotent, we just thank you for all the races I've won and the 21.2 million dollars-- Whoo!"
You can hear the entire, wonderfully outrageous dialogue here.
The Occupy Movement is a Christmas sort of event only when we consider another part of the larger Christmas story. It begins with an angel visiting the teenage Mary, and telling her that she will conceive a very special child. It continues by relating how Mary immediately goes to visit her very pregnant cousin Elizabeth, and shares with her the angel's startling news. (Luke 1:26-56).
Some of Mary's words in that visit are remembered in an ancient piece of poetry in Luke's gospel and which, in some faith traditions, is used liturgically and known as "The Magnificat." (That is the Latin for one of the words she began with: "My soul magnifies the Lord within me . . . .") To the extent that her words are remembered at all, their revolutionary import is often forgotten . . . lost in the overly-sentimentalized focus on this wondrous event in her life.
The Occupy Movement is a Christmas sort of event because the words Mary sang were about how a promise, made by God to her people many years before, was about to come true through her son's efforts. In Mary's song, the child would grow up and speak God's truth to power . . . with the result that the world would turn from its business-as-usual, I've-got-mine forms of cruelty and injustice. The world would become one in which there is good news for the poor, prisoners are set free, the blind recover their sight, and the oppressed are set free.
A modern setting for the Magnificat . . . this Song of Mary . . . is Canticle of the Turning. It was written by Rory Cooney and is set to a traditional Irish tune with a danceable beat called "The Star of the County Down." In its lyrics below, note how each verse, as well as the refrain, develops the themes of God's promise. To hear this newer rendition of her song, just click here.
My soul cries out with a joyful shout that the God of my heart is great And my spirit sings of the wondrous things that you bring to the ones who wait. You fixed your sight on your servant's plight,and my weakness you did not spurn, So from east to west shall my name be blest.Could the world be about to turn?
Refrain:
My heart shall sing of the day you bring. Let the fires of your justice burn. Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near, and the world is about to turn!
Though I am small, my God, my all, you work great things in me, And your mercy will last from the depths of the past to the end of the age to be. Your very name puts the proud to shame, and to those who would for you yearn, You will show your might, put the strong to flight, for the world is about to turn.
Refrain
From the halls of power to the fortress tower, not a stone will be left on stone. Let the king beware for your justice tears ev'ry tyrant from his throne. The hungry poor shall weep no more,for the food they can never earn; There are tables spread, ev'ry mouth be fed,for the world is about to turn.
Refrain
Though the nations rage from age to age,we remember who holds us fast: God's mercy must deliver us from the conqueror's crushing grasp. This saving word that our forebears heard is the promise which holds us bound, 'Til the spear and rod can be crushed by God,who is turning the world around.
Refrain
Once we had all discerned this connection between the Christmas story and the Occupy Movement, we knew immediately what we had to do. So, on the 23rd of December, we got a couple of bathrobes, went to the park where the Occupy Movement is encamped, and put on our own "bathrobe Christmas drama!"
Jen played the part of Mary; and Margaret got the part of Mary's much older cousin Elizabeth . . . even though Margaret had to do some real acting to pretend to be almost ninety! Ludvic got his 12-string guitar and Roger his banjo. One of the youth brought a flute and two others had wooden recorders. Three others with tambourines completed our ensemble.
As we began to sing, some of the Occupiers got up smiling . . . and started keeping time with their feet and by clapping their hands. Eventually there were maybe sixty people singing it and dancing all about. Afterwards, we shared with them whatever food and hot chocolate we could scrounge up. It was early on Christmas Eve morning when we got back to Elsewhere.
We offered to do a "repeat performance" in the parking lot of Advocatus' church after their midnight Christmas Eve service let out. Advocatus just sighed . . . and said he hoped that maybe that could happen next year when, after the Occupiers had left (he assumed), it wouldn't be seen as so . . . so "disturbing."
We wish you all a very merry . . . and boat-rocking . . . Christmas!
Margaret and Snark
