Tomorrow

Would that it were tomorrow, so that my friend would have arrived
Would that it were the fall, with my education solidified
Would that it were two years from now, so we’d know where we’ll live
Would that it were a decade hence, so I’d see all I’ll have to give
Would that I were a mother, so my children I would know
Would that I were a proper adult, with my own chateau
Would that I were 90, looking back on my life
Enjoying all the times I’ll live filled with joy and strife

Yet if it were tomorrow, I’d have missed tonight
And if it were the fall, I’d have seen no summer nights
If it were two years from now, India would no more be
And if it were a decade hence, there’d be less to see
If I were already mom, the anticipation would be gone
And if was all grown up, my life would be foregone
And if on death’s door I stood, waiting for the end
There’d be nothing else to look forward to, no more laughter or friends

Then I’ll dream about tomorrow, and fill it up with sun
I’ll dream about the time this fall and how the days will run
I’ll picture life two years from now, all the options in a range
I’ll fear about a decade hence and how much will have changed
I’ll wonder about motherhood and the family I will gain
I’ll postpone adulthood the best I can, and childlike will remain
And when death finally comes to knock upon my door
I’ll turn myself full on to him and soulfully implore

I wish it that it were yesterday, without responsibility or care!
I wish that I had one more fall, with crimson leaves in my hair!
I long for the time when my husband was studious and free
I beg that I can once again live out my destiny!
My children ask that you grant their mother one more chance
While my husband’s plea is that we have one final dance
Death! please let me press you for one more thing
Take me back to the beginning and let me do it again

Hope and Courage for Dialogue

Even before I joined the United Church of Christ a few years ago, I admired Rev. Dr. Bernice Powell Jackson. When I heard her speech (or, better said, sermon) at the World Council of Churches Assembly last year, I was simply overwhelmed and immediately proud to be associated with both the World Council, of which she is a President, and the UCC, in which she is ordained.

This morning, as I read my daily scriptural passage emailed to me by Sojourner’s, I caught her name on a link. She gave a sermon a few nights ago on Romans 5. Whatever your political or religious leanings, I think you will find this sermon enlightening: http://www.beliefnet.com/blogs/godspolitics/2007/03/bernice-powell-jackson-hope-does-not.html

One issue which continues to trouble me is a pervasive lack of commitment among religious persons, politicians, and global leaders to simply sit down and dialogue. Rev. Jackson’s sermon is about hope, particularly hope in the face of suffering and struggle. I don’t believe that violence can lead to peace. I don’t believe that freedom and democracy can ensue from military force. I know that many people disagree with, and that is OK. Actually, that is what freedom and democracy is about, isn’t it?

But what I do not understand is a lack of commitment to dialogue. If we are truly committed to our own beliefs… if we truly believe in them and honestly feel that those are the right, ethical, moral, and just positions to hold, then doesn’t it also stand to reason that those positions that we hold so dear would always reveal themselves as truth in an open and honest dialogue?
Toward the end of her sermon, Rev. Jackson said, “Hope, for Christians, can never just be a word – it must become an action… a public commitment to follow Jesus in the non-violent struggle for justice and peace.” For me, this action and public commitment must begin (without end) with open dialogue and discussion. This requires courage, indeed, to subject our ideas and beliefs to criticism and argument, but this courage finds its endless source rooted in hope. In the words of St. Paul:

“We also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” (Romans 5:3-5, NRSV)

Fifteen Generations

Yesterday was a holiday here in the state of Karnataka. Most of the holidays here are based on the lunar cycle, like Easter and Passover, so yesterday was a new moon, the beginning of the new year, and there also happened to be a solar eclipse yesterday morning - an auspicious day indeed!

Among the traditions which mark the beginning of the new year, there is a tradition to clean everything - sort of like "Spring Cleaning" in the US. Also, some sweet food is prepared. Shyla made us rice keer (rice pudding). Shymala, the wife of my Sanskrit guru, Suresh, prepared sweet pongal, which is a little similar to rice pudding. I went for a sanskrit lesson yesterday and I asked him about the holiday as we ate lunch. He told me that I should eat the sweet pongal first as a symbol of hope that the new year would be sweet and a reminder that we should first be sweet to others.

Then he said that they would be celebrating the new year again in two weeks. He said that Tamil Nadu (the state just east & south of us) begins their new year on the full moon. He explained that although his family has lived in Karnataka for centuries, 15 generations back, they came from Tamil Nadu, so they celebrate the holidays from both states.

It wasn't until later when I shared that story with Elizabeth that she pointed out just how long 15 generations is. In the Bible, of course, a generation is 40 years long, so 15 generations would be 600 years. For us, I think it is more like 25 years, which is 375 years.

Elizabeth can trace her family roots back to the Mayflower and before that to Germany. My father's family has only been in the US for a few generations (I think I am 5th or so) and before that to Ireland. My mother's father (Crockett), traces back to pre-revolutionary times. My mother's mother's family, though, is Cherokee and Chocktaw. That means that 15 generations ago, my ancestors were born in roughly the same exact place that I was born in - in upstate South Carolina.

I admire Suresh and his family not only for knowing their family history so well, but for continuing to hold on to old traditions as a means to hold on to his ancestral roots. If anyone is out there reading, I hope you will write a comment and maybe even tell us where your family was 15 generations ago and what, if any, traditions you hold onto.

I leave you with this, my own small tribute to my ancestry, although a bit of an anachronistic one. Here is a recording of The Lord's Prayer in Cherokee:
http://www.cherokee.org/extras/Downloads/Language/mp3/lords_prayer.mp3