#276 – Dick Bernard: 11 bells; 3 volleys. Nov. 11, 2010 remembered.

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“[My sister] Florence was born [Nov. 3, 1918] the year World War I ended. [Nov. 11, 1918] the hired girl and I were out in the snow chasing chickens into the coop so they wouldnt freeze when there was a great long train whistle from the Grand Rapids [ND] railroad track [5 miles away]. In the house there was a long, long telephone ringing to signify the end of World War I.”
Esther Busch Bernard memories, p. 122 of Pioneers, the Busch-Berning family history (2005).
November 11 I attended both the Armistice and Veterans Day events held one block apart, roughly halfway between the State Capitol and Cathedral of St. Paul.
That context is important.
I think I have participated in most if not all Armistice Day events since 2002.
This year I intentionally broadened my context, and distanced myself from all participants in both events. I wanted to catch more of the resonance or emotional distance between those who remember Armistice Day (reminding us of the end of WW I on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918, continuing in many countries to this day); and Veteran’s Day (which permanently replaced Armistice Day in the U.S. in 1954.) I wandered between the groups, one city block apart, easily visible to each other.
On the way to the events, yesterday, I stopped at my barber, a Marine combat veteran in Vietnam whose brother, also a Marine, was killed in Vietnam. Tom and I are long-time good friends. He angled a little towards conversation about war and peace this day; I chose to angle away. We talked of other things.
On the wall was a flat screen television tuned to the sports network, ESPN. The coverage this day included live film from a U.S. military base in Germany. Part of the coverage included a field game, similar to what kids would play, only in this case it was Hand Grenade toss, to see which GI participant could come closest to nailing a humanoid figure in the eye of a bullseye with a hand grenade facsimile. Not much focus on peace, there.
Haircut over I went to the Veterans/Armistice day field of memories.
There seemed to be roughly equal numbers of outside visitors at each, though the Veterans group was much more formal and fancier, including people in uniform, lots of flags, and what appeared to be a high school band. Both groups were heavily laced with military veterans.
I noted, really for the first time in many years coming here, a large sculpture of a soldier with what I’d call pleading outstretched arms. He stood roughly half way between the groups, primarily facing the Veterans Day event at the Vietnam Memorial Wall.

He had been standing there since 1982, the plaque said.
11:00 was approaching and I returned to the Armistice Day gathering to witness the bell-ringing, 11 times, to signify 11-11-11. The speaker holding our bell said that the Cathedral of St. Paul down the street had agreed to ring their bells 11 times this year – a first. We waited. 11:00 came and went, no bells. The group rang its own bell.
I left, and went over to the Veterans gathering just in time to see their ceremony, three men brought forth a rifle, a pair of boots and a helmet to signify a fallen soldier. The MC ordered three rifle volleys from the armed color guard.
I found myself thinking back to that sculpture between the groups. The caption said “Why do you forget us?” as the sculpted soldier faced the Veterans gathering.
Behind him, I thought to myself, was an Armistice group that might change that quotation only slightly. “Why do you forget [“the war to end all wars”]?”
I left the parking lot. 11:15 and still no bells from the Cathedral, looming over us a few short blocks away. The silence was deafening.
There is a story waiting to be told….
Regarding “the resonance or emotional distance”? Remember the distinction between 11 bells and 3 volleys of rifle fire. That catches it, in my seeing and hearing. At one site, the symbol of honor was a rifle, serving as a body of a soldier, with boots and helmet. At the other, a simple bell of peace.

Veterans Day Commemoration


Armistice Day Commemoration


Related, here.

#272 – Dick Bernard: War, and Peace

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A few days ago we finished the biennial reenactment of the Civil War – the 2010 elections. While this is a supposedly bloodless sport, the biennial result is “a house divided” where one side “wins” and the other “loses”. The aim, especially strong today, is to kill the opposing point of view, relevant though it may be.
The instant this political Civil War ended, the next one began. It’s a wonder our country survives. One wonders what our community, national and global landscape would look like if we didn’t insist on dissipating our energy and resources to fight constantly against each other, and, rather, try to work towards agreement on things.
Oh, it’s a dream.
In the election just past, one candidate for a Minnesota Congressional seat defeated the 35-year incumbent U.S. Representative who had a great record of representing the interests of the district. The challenger had no previous experience in government outside of military service. He was described as applying “a military theme to his campaign. His battered motor home was called the “war wagon”. Campaign staffers and volunteers were given military titles – commanders, captains lieutenants.” (Minneapolis Star Tribune, page A12, November 4, 2010). The district loses a representative with great seniority who effectively represented its interests. It gets a new representative with no seniority or experience who campaigned against the very things which led to his opponents many re-elections. The elder statesman was a casualty of a ‘throw ’em out’ mentality.
Destructive as it is to us, we love war, especially as a spectator sport.
(In 1860 the U.S. population was about 31 million, one-tenth of today’s. There were over 365,000 Civil War deaths in 1861-65, and 282,000 more wounded. In today’s political combat, there are no rotting corpses on assorted political battlefields, but there is residual and permanent damage to our effectiveness as a nation. The political goal is to render impotent the opposition. Back and forth we go….)
It was very good for me and many others to be able to shift gear at the end of election week, to move away from combat for awhile.
Friday night I attended a collaborative event of the Hawkinson Foundation and the Minnesota Alliance of Peacemakers, “Building Generations Together: Creating a Culture of Peace“.
This was a tremendously inspiring event.
During the Awards section of the program, several younger people from many cultures received awards for their grassroots work on building community through working together. (Their bios and accomplishments are outlined at the aforementioned Hawkinson Foundation website).
At the end of the evening, the award winners joined in a dialogue with five elders (their profiles also at the website) in the Twin Cities Peace and Justice Community, to give their views on a number of different questions. The elders were Carol and Ken Masters, Rev Verlyn Smith, Rev. James Siefkes and Mary Lou Nelson. It was greatly refreshing to see the elders and youngers dialoguing together, while those of us in the audience, primarily elders, listened and learned.

Elder and Younger dialogue November 5, 2010


Everyone listened respectfully to the presentations and the dialogue.
I can only speak for myself: I left the evening tired but energized, with a couple of new insights, which for me made the time expended completely worthwhile.
In a few days we commemorate Armistice Day, November 11, the day “the war to end all wars”, WWI, ended in 1918.
Of course, the end of WWI didn’t end war; it just ensured a subsequent and even more awful war. That is the normal consequence of combat as a resolution to differences.
Peace may not be quite as fun as contemporary political combat, but it is certainly more productive.
Give Peace a chance.
Related post here.

#266 – Dick Bernard: Moving towards Rationality, Civility and Dialogue…or mired in Contempt?

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I walked away from a TV commentary show a few hours ago. The host is someone I like and respect; his guests were four leaders from a few of the infinite number of different organizations that claim to be of like minds, but really have very narrow, poorly thought out, and often opposing agendas.
The talk was about whether or not Social Security and Medicare were “socialist”. Three of the four guests had anti-socialism as a key tenet of their anti-government rant. Of course, none would touch Social Security or Medicare, always going back to their tried and true ‘talking points’. It ended with the usual result, which I first saw in the old “Crossfire” days of the 1990s, where NO ONE was LISTENING to ANYONE ELSE, DEFENSIVE and TRYING TO SHOUT EACH OTHER DOWN. The good idea of debate ended up very badly. Personally, I learned nothing.
Life is far too short….
Right before that, Cathy and I had been to an Interfaith Forum on the topic of denominational beliefs on Life after Death. Five panelists, friends and clergy all, took on the topic. They were Jewish, Muslim, Catholic, Lutheran and Congregational. It was a great pre-Halloween topic and it seemed there were about 200 of us in attendance. The Pastors talked, then there was opportunity for table talk, then then there was Q&A from audience to panelists. If I was to boil it down to its essence, it was respect personified. We all have our beliefs; we are sitting together seeking to understand; we were not throwing rocks at each other, as would have been the case in those vaunted “good old days” before tolerance was cool.
Two days earlier, nine of us had gathered at an office conference room in suburban Maplewood MN to watch a recent film about Haiti, and then to discuss what we’d seen.
The film, Poto Mitan, has five narrators. With a single, brief, exception, they are the only ones who speak, and they speak one at a time, telling their powerful stories. They are “Poto Mitans”, all poor women in Port-au-Prince who talk of survival against all odds. They speak in Kreyol, subtitled into English. The segments are separated by brief but beautiful and powerful prose read in English by Haitian author Edwidge Danticat, backgrounded by film of a woman braiding another woman’s hair.
Poto Mitan is a powerful film which our discussion leader, Jacqueline Regis, said brought her to tears when she first saw it. It was so mindful of her own mother and her own growing up years in Duvalier’s Haiti.
After the film we viewers dialogued with each other about what this film meant to us. There was nothing profound said, but the evening was profound. There was lots of respect among we diverse folks whose only commonality was an interest in Haiti. Our conversation reached no conclusion: it didn’t need to. When we walked out the door, the conversation was our conclusion: food for thought. Out of the gathering did come a proposal to a larger institution to use the film as centerpiece for a program on the first anniversary of the January 12, 2010, earthquake in Haiti, but that was just a proposal for someone else to implement, or not.
Oh if only we could re-learn the almost disappeared skill of dialogue.
So…What is “dialogue”?
I often go back to a great quote I found in Joseph Jaworsky’s 1996 book, “Synchronicity, the Inner Path of Leadership“. Preceding the chapter on “Dialogue: The Power of Collective Thinking“, Jaworsky includes the following from David Bohms “On Dialogue”:
“From time to time, (the) tribe (gathered) in a circle.
They just talked and talked and talked apparently to no purpose. They made no decisions. There was no leader. And everybody could participate.
There may have been wise men or wise women who were listened to a bit more – the older ones – but everybody could talk.
The meeting went on, until it finally seemed to stop for no reason at all and the group dispersed. Yet after that, everybody seemed to know what to do, because they understood each other so well. Then they could get together in smaller groups and do something or decide things.“

#261 – Dick Bernard: Honor and Respect for those of the GLBT Community

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Today came an unexpected video featuring Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton. (There may be an annoying ad for a few seconds prior to the 2 1/2 minute clip. Just let it play through.)
The video speaks profoundly for itself.
It reminded me of a copy of a letter which came into my possession some years ago, and which I again came across recently while sorting assorted papers.
The letter was dated July 26, 1991, and was written anonymously to a prominent Catholic Pastor in a major city. The Pastor has long been dead, and the letter was found among his papers. I know the name of the Priest and his Parish, but in this post nothing which identifies either will be included. It is the content which is important. It is not known if the writer was male or female, or if the meeting suggested in the second to last sentence was ever held.
The letter is intended solely to encourage personal reflection and action to change hearts and minds and policies, too. It is from one person to another. It has application to us all.
July 26, 1991
Dear ___:
This letter is in response to your June 16, 1991, [church bulletin column] which has left me deeply saddened. I am referring to the News Item about the Presbyterians rejecting the ordination of Gays, etc., and the fact that you found this rejection “especially encouraging” and “The ___ Plain Talk – nice sounding words that are used to hide the real nature of sodomy…alternative life style, sexual preference, and so on….”
There are many things I would wish to say about the Church – about power and authoritarianism, about narrow sexual boundaries, about celibates speaking to conjugal love. But I fear it “would fall on deaf ears”. So I shall just speak to you from my heart.
I am Gay – as are 10% of all the parishioners’ you gaze out upon on a Sunday morning (or any other day). You shake our hands and wish us “Peace”, but you do not know us because we are invisible. Gay people who belong to [our church] are not ordinarily out marching in Gay Pride parades. We do not belong to Act Up which recently came to [the church] and embarrassed you and us by their radical rabble rousing. They represent the tiniest minuscule part of the Gay Community; they do not speak for anyone but themselves, anymore than Bishop LeFebvre spoke for all Catholics.
We are lawyers and doctors and librarians and brick layers and computer operators and musicians (and, yes, we are also Priests and Religious in the broad community). We sit quietly in the pews and listen to sermons (good ones!) about loving one another and how much God loves us. In the [parish hall] we shake your hand and say how glad we are to see you (and we are!) and receive your ebullient greeting in return. But you don’t know us.
We are proud to have our own [names recognized for accomplishments] up for all to see in little bronze plaques. We belong to [this church] and are thrilled to be a part of your visionary and splendid building program. But you do not know us and do not love us in Christ.
We sing in the Choir, serve on your Boards, are Eucharistic Ministers and Lectors, are enthusiastic members of the Youth Group and support [this church] financially. But you do not know who we are. You do not know us or love us.
We do not choose to be Gay. Why on earth would anyone choose to be Gay? Why would anyone choose to be a member of a despised minority, to be isolated, maligned, rejected, hated, outcasts in our own Church or even in our own parish? No, we have not chosen to be Gay anymore than you have chosen the color of your eyes.
The Lord God made us just as we are – Gay and straight. He did not say we are “intrinsically evil” (though the official Church does). He said “I have loved you with an everlasting love,” and “I have written you on the palm of my hand and you are mine.” He did not say anywhere that He meant only straight people.
Homophobia is a horrid word. Often it is overt and blatantly ugly. But more often it can be subtle and hidden: Love the Gay person and hate his/her lifestyle. We are all of a piece, [Father], just as you are. Our actions, our loves and loving flow out of who we are, just as yours do. To compartmentalize us and say we are human beings made in the image of God, intelligent, caring, passionate – and then to say we must not ever show anyone that love, and sometimes show it physically, seems nothing short of ludicrous. it would be laughable if it were not so tragic.
Hypocrisy is ugly, too, particularly when it thunders down from the highest places in the Church. Gentle shepherds have cried out against it in anguish (the Hunthausens and Weaklands and McNeils and Currans and Callahans), but they are quickly overpowered and forced into submission and silence.
And where is Christ in all of this?
I beg you to go into the chapel in a quiet time – to sit in the very presence of Jesus Christ. Ask Him to tell you how He feels about us. he did say, “I want to gather them under my wings as a mother hen gathers the chicks and you would not.”
I honor you, [Father] as a pastor of great vision, but I weep for you and the Church when true Christ-like qualities of compassion, mercy, understanding, acceptance, and unqualified love are crushed by allegiance to the narrow boundaries of the power structure of the Church. Perhaps when you sit before the Christ, He too will be weeping.
I go on loving this Church and staying in it because it is Jesus Christ. You must not try to drive me out when it is He who invited me in.
I do not sign this (though I deplore anonymous letters) because I fear subtle retaliation. Before you go, I will come to you and tell you who I am. In the meantime, you do indeed know me, but you do not love me.”
Related post is here.

#258 – Dick Bernard: Planting Poles of Peace

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Today was another stunningly beautiful Minnesota Fall day, a perfect day for – as the invitation stated – “a peace pole planting & dedication ceremony” at St. Anne’s Episcopal Church in Sunfish Lake MN. I took the drive over to the picturesque church. It is a place I have passed by often, but until today never actually entered.
There are hundreds of thousands of peace poles around the world in almost any kind of location. As the St. Anne’s program stated, “In planting peace poles, we are linking with people all over the world who have planted Peace Poles in the same spirit of peace.”
I gathered that the peace pole project at St. Anne’s was a creation of the youth of the Parish who did the fundraising for the project. Rather than a single pole, the decision was made to plant three poles in a specially constructed Peace Garden near the Church. The project took one and one-half years to complete, but in the end the children had raised more than enough money for the poles which speak “…”May Peace Prevail on Earth” in Arabic, Chinese, English, Greek, Hebrew, Hmong, Maya, Ojibwe, Paw Prints, Somali, Spanish and Swahili.” (Among the onlookers was a gentle dog, for whom the Paw Prints fit!)

The Peace Poles prior to planting.


I have been to numerous dedications of Peace Poles, Peace Sites and the like, and they share commonalities, though they are planned individually, often over an extended period. Each are unique and inspiring.
At St. Anne’s, the opening prayer was as follows:
“We gather here today as diverse expressions
of one loving mystery –
To celebrate,
to sing,
to accept differences,
to promote justice and peace.
To recreate the human community.
We gather to plant these peace poles as a sign of
our commitment to nurture and encourage the seeds of
peace already planted in our community and in the world.
As we plant these poles, we commit to:
seeking peace within ourselves and others,
promoting understanding,
celebrating diversity,
caring for our planet,
reaching out in service,
working for justice,
and creating, in this place,
a sanctuary where all are embraced.
We are called to peace.
Peace within and peace without
Peace before and peace behind
Peace on right and peace on left.
We are called to peace.
Peace with brother and with sister
Peace with neighbor and with stranger
Peace with friend and with foe.
We are called to peace.
Peace in work and in play
Peace in thought and deed
Peace in world and in action
We are called to peace.”
The gentle ritual continued with a Song of Peace, readings from different traditions about peace, and thence the planting of the three poles with members of the group, young and old, contributing earth to the holes in which the poles were planted.

Planting the Peace Poles at St. Anne's


There are many perfect ways to do Peace Poles and Peace Sites. St. Anne’s was one of those perfect ways.
More information and ideas about Peace Sites and Peace Poles and other Peace programs are accessible at the website of World Citizen.
“Let There Be Peace On Earth” (one of today’s songs.)

#254 – Dick Bernard: A DVD Drama at the Basilica of St. Mary

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Last Sunday on the way into Minneapolis’ Basilica of St. Mary for Mass I stopped by a small group of people collecting a DVD Archbishop Marriage001 earlier sent to all Archdiocese Catholics. The DVD lobbies against the supposed threat of Gay Marriage, and promotes a Minnesota Constitutional amendment mandating that marriage be restricted to one man and one woman*.
I dropped off my DVD and asked Lucinda Naylor, who ordinarily sits near us in the Basilica, if I could take her picture (below).

Lucinda Naylor, at right, October 2, 1010, Basilica of St. Mary, Minneapolis


Lucinda had unintentionally become famous a few days earlier when she had written a Facebook entry about the DVD. The entry came to the attention of her employer, the Basilica of St. Mary. There was a meeting between the Pastor and Lucinda, and the result was her suspension from her part-time job as artist for the Basilica. Her liturgical art work for years has been a staple part of the Mass booklets distributed each Sunday by ushers like myself. The DVD issue, I am convinced, was not created by either the Pastor or Lucinda. It was dropped on both of them from outside.
The suspended employee, Lucinda, established a website which gives people an opportunity to recycle the DVDs into a sculpture she plans to make. The collection of the DVDs began Sunday, October 2. Similar collections took place at other churches.
At this writing, the drama continues. I have a great deal of respect and admiration for Lucinda; and for the Pastor as well. I know both people. She acted courageously on her convictions; the Pastor, whether he can admit it or not, was without doubt caught between “the proverbial rock and a hard place”. Basilica is not ‘his’ Church, after all: it is, like all Catholic Churches, real estate of the Archdiocese, and the Archbishop is the Pastor’s boss.
After depositing my DVD in the curbside box, I went inside for 9:30 Mass. More on that in a moment.
The next day, Monday, a very large photo, taken from the identical vantage point and essentially identical to mine, appeared on page A11 of the Minneapolis Star Tribune. The headline said “Taking a Stand Against the Church“, and showed Lucinda Naylor waving on Twin Cities Marathon Runners as they passed by the Church. The accompanying text included the phrase: “A spokesman for the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis called [her action] a publicity stunt.”
Sunday morning, inside Basilica, the Mass booklet said that the presider at all of the six weekend Masses would be Pastor John Bauer. This is highly unusual. Normally there are two or three presiders.
I am sure the vast majority of us in Basilica on Sunday were waiting to see what the Pastors Homily would be. There was little doubt about the topic; the only unknown was exactly what he’d say.
Basilica is a welcoming and diverse place, and Fr. Bauer made specific reference to the greeting at every Mass: “Whatever brings you here and wherever you are at on your faith journey, you are welcome here.” It is a theme that the Basilica lives. It fits my Parish.
The rest of his brief message spoke gently to the issue that had Lucinda out on the sidewalk: “Parishes are much like families“, he said, alluding again to something he’s said before: that in his own family, members tend to cancel each other out in Presidential elections. He pulled a quotation from, he recalled, James Joyce: “The word ‘Catholic’ means ‘here comes everybody’ “. And then he quoted from an e-mail someone had sent him during the tense few days preceding this Mass: “I stay [in the Church] because I want the Church to be the Church I want the Church to be.”
Finished, Fr. Bauer received warm applause (unusual in our setting, regardless of the preacher or message). I was among those who applauded.
But that applause doesn’t mean this issue is over; by no means.
As I was drove home I thought in particular about Fr. Bauer’s “family” analogy.
In this case, there is a huge difference: the Archbishop, with the help of what had to be a huge anonymous donation, sent out hundreds of thousands of these DVDs which spoke from Power to Peasant, as it were.
Lucinda is one of those Peasants; I another.
The Archbishop didn’t ask our opinion. He didn’t care. His wealthy financial benefactor hid in the shadows of anonymity. So be it.
For some reason I thought about action organizing in such a case of power versus powerless and I thought back to a favorite book from childhood, Gulliver’s Travels. Gulliver, as most will remember, traveled to a place called Lilliput, which was inhabited by ant-size humans who were no match in any way for the gigantic normal sized human, Gulliver.
At least, the Lilliputians were no match for him on his terms.
But one night Gulliver fell into a sound sleep, and the next day when he woke up, he was tied to the ground, and couldn’t move.
The Lilliputians had put Power in its place.
“Publicity stunt” indeed.
Go, Lilliput!
Postnote: a YouTube link from a friend, a Dad, whose son is Gay.
*The Archbishops DVD can also be found on YouTube.
Watch this space in coming days for a commentary on a Marriage in Quebec in 1730.

#250 – Dick Bernard: a troubling sign among Signs

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Certain at this time of year in Minnesota is change in the appearance of nature. Leaves change colors and ultimately drop off; Fall flowers erupt in all their glory, including some absolutely brilliant wildflowers on my daily walk.
Every other year, Fall brings with it a new and odd biennial ‘foliage’. Locals call them campaign signs, and they erupt along the area roads. In recent days I have begun to look at them with increasing interest, largely because of a new species I have observed for the first time.
Lawn signs for political candidates are essential, even though they do not inform. Note a lawn sign driving along a road (where most of them are found) and normally it will emphasize only a single word, either the candidates first or last name. The hope is that some befuddled voter will see the name and remember “Scotty” (or whomever) when they enter the booth on November 2, and vote for him because they saw his name on a sign. Certainly, the sign has no other purpose than name recognition. One would hope that we don’t elect our local candidates based primarily on what their name is….
But this week I saw a new sign, one which I haven’t seen before, along the streets I traverse each day.

Lawn sign Woodbury MN September 29, 2010


I noticed two things about that sign: the candidate is running for Judge, and he is proudly advertising his endorsement by a political party.
Rarely on lawn signs do I see any reference to political party, particularly for local office.
In this instance, the candidate is one of 24 candidates for a single judgeship in Minnesota’s 10th Judicial District. I am not sure what caused this tsunami of candidates in this district, but the fact of the matter is that each of us who vote on November 2 will have to select one of these 24, either somewhat informed or at random, or not cast a vote at all. This particular candidate seems to be looking to get a leg up on his competitors by getting a partisan endorsement, and that concerns me, especially in an election for a Judge. The opposing party is in a quandary: it must similarly engage.
Questions abound on an endorsement of this sort. The endorsing party is, first of all, currently a party of fragments, from fanciers of Tea to moderates and even progressive in attitude. When the label is placed on the lawn sign, which party members actually did the endorsing? It makes a big difference. But all we know is the name on the sign.
What risk am I to take if I happen to be of some other party, and end up in a contest before this particular person, if he is finally elected Judge in November? He has telegraphed his bias. There is no law that says Judges cannot be partisan; but they should not be seated at the bench in, say, Red or Blue robes. Achieving justice in our system is hard enough to have to deal with an avowedly partisan judge, who likely sought the endorsement he now proudly advertises, and implicitly is beholden to.
In a race with as many candidates as there are in this one, odds are that this guy will be wearing Judge’s robes come January.
This is not an outcome even the endorsing party should welcome.
The judiciary should not be an arm of one party or another. It should do what it is supposed to do: interpret the law.
This sign is one of many that certain groups are attempting to undercut and subvert the neutrality of the legal Bench.
This is not good news for our democracy.

#247 – Dick Bernard: Musing about Taxes

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I’d consider Gerald Harris, editor/publisher of the LaMoure Chronicle and a couple of other North Dakota weekly newspapers, a friend, even though I have only met him in person one time, and then briefly, and even though we may well walk different paths ideologically.
But when I get to his town to visit my relatives, one of my must-buys is his newspaper, and I buy it so that I can read his opinion.
He tells it as he sees it. Dammit! And he seems willing to share other points of view.
So, I bought his newspaper on Saturday, and read his column, which was about re-doing the U.S. tax system – an ever popular coffee shop topic, whether in bib-overalls and seed caps, or business suits.
Gerald’s scheme was three tiered: 1) get rid of all deductions for anything, making a tax department unnecessary; 2) apply a Value Added Tax to all goods produced; 3) make some kinds of Sales Tax universal on everything. To deal with the vexing problem of people with nothing, he proposed an allotment of $600 per month per person, payable in two lump sums each year. The lucky poor would get $3600 checks twice a year, to steward carefully or squander…their choice.
The other culprits in his scheme: those evil politicians – always the easy ones to kick around, even though they are doing our collective bidding…so they can be elected or reelected.
I sent this reponse to Mr. Harris, which he may or may not reprint this week:
“Saturday afternoon after Mass I was standing outside Holy Rosary Church chatting with a couple of LaMoure friends. A young woman, dressed in summer clothes with a couple of small inexpensive backpacks, approached us and asked how to get to ______, a North Dakota town we knew was five or six driving hours away. She had been put out of where she’d been staying in LaMoure, and told to walk home. She didn’t even know the direction to walk. My friends helped as they could, staying with the young woman until they were comfortable she had the help she needed.
I learned the next day that the young lady – she said she was 21 – probably was taken to Jamestown for the late bus, and delivered to relatives in Bismarck. Perhaps this will show up in the police report in this weeks Chronicle. It was a quiet drama – one which most of the churchgoers probably weren’t aware was even happening, though they were milling around nearby.
After this unanticipated encounter, back in my room, I read your musings on reforming the tax system in this country, including the quotation provided by “a banker”** and your suggestion that each person get $600 a month, paid in lump sums twice a year.
Opinion intersected with harsh reality.
Taxes is easy to kick around, especially by those who are expected to pay it. The scheme always seems to be how to avoid as much taxes as possible, and switch the remaining tax burden to somebody else. The rich have platoons of lawyers and lobbyists to skew the law in their favor. Unlike Corporations, who are now, legally, “persons”, people like that young woman have no clout, no knowledge, no voice….
Greed is always a silent player in these conversations about individual rights versus community responsibility. The richer one is, it seems, the more that person feels entitled to their riches, as if he or she really “earned” them.
North Dakota is, I have heard, one of the wealthier states in the U.S. Why is it that there seems an inverse relationship between wealth and true generosity?
I wonder what has happened to that young woman I saw last Saturday; I wonder if anybody much cares.”
I sent the editor a link to this recent column on the issue of the rich and taxes.
A e-friend reminded me that Richard Nixon, long ago, had once thought of a yearly stipend of $25,000 per family to stimulate the American Economy….
** From a banker: “I predict future happiness for Americans if they can prevent the government from wasting the labors of the people under the pretense of taking care of the people.” Thomas Jefferson in a letter to Thomas Cooper, 1802.

#243 – Dick Bernard: September 16 and 20, 2001, and a Day for Peace, September 21, 2010

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Today is September 11. 9-11. Why the title “September 16 and 20, 2001”?
September 11, 2001, was a Tuesday, and by the next Sunday, September 16, the initial shock had largely worn off, though confusion reigned.
(A good illustration of what was happening comes from a chart I’d seen many years earlier, where a normal Crisis Sequence for we human beings had been explained, and I had kept the handout which is below. This chart comes from the early 1970s, and I’ve preferred to keep it as I received it, then.)

The words on the chart are probably difficult to impossible to read here, but the chart itself is straight forward and logical: normally, shock lasts a very short time; the normal person has moved on – gotten perspective – in a matter of months. The continuing hysteria surrounding 9-11-01 is abnormal behavior which has to be fueled and encouraged externally.
So it is.
The essence of the ‘peaks and valleys of the illustration:
Phase: Duration of Phase
IMPACT: Hours
RECOIL-TURMOIL: Days
ADJUSTMENT: Weeks
RECONSTRUCTION: Months)
This posting is about the “Recoil-Turmoil” time: September 16, 2001, a Sunday, and September 20, a Thursday, in Minneapolis MN.

We went to 9:30 a.m. Mass as usual at the Basilica of St. Mary in Minneapolis. The Church was filled more than usual that day.
We had a visiting Priest, Father Dandurand, for that Mass, and I wrote about his homily (sermon) to family members. The relevant portion of my September 24, 2001, e-mail follows:
“The Sunday after September 11 [Sep. 16] our Priest was faced with the universal dilemma of his colleagues of every denomination, everywhere: what should I talk about? In the end, he briefly and very powerfully focused on the Gospel reading for the day (Luke 15: 11-32) on the Prodigal Son, his father, and his responsible – and very angry – brother. [The Priest] chose to focus on the angry brother, and on the absolute need to replace anger with forgiveness.”
The [next] Thursday, September 20, 2001, I had been to a regularly scheduled meeting of the Catholic Archdiocese Social Justice committee. Understandably, the agenda of that meeting changed to accomodate the need to talk about September 11. I had described that meeting in my letter, and continued “…At the aforementioned Social Justice meeting, one lady commented on the aftermaths of a conciliation message preached by her pastor. Three families quit the parish. And so it goes…goes…and goes….”
Today we remember nine years, and the hysteria is once again ginned up. The 1970s Crisis Sequence presentation laid out what we all know is true: regardless of the event, a normal person/society moves on, and it is a matter of months. The devastation of the Haiti earthquake happened only eight months ago, and Haiti has been off the radar screen of almost everyone for months already.
Fear and Loathing are useful political tools, used to manipulate and control. They can only be effectively used with someone willing to be used.
After September 11, 2001, our society had a choice of two forks in the road: to Reconcile, or to War. We all know the fateful choice and its consequences for us and everyone else.

Something else was happening in New York City on September 11, 2001.
As the first plane was about to hit the World Trade Center, a group of children and adults had gathered at the nearby United Nations building to celebrate the International Day of Peace, which then coincided with the opening of the General Assembly of the United Nations. As some children played music, the first plane hit the tower, and the program was cancelled.
As such things happen, this September 11 event also celebrated a singular accomplishment by a young Englishman who had successfully lobbied the United Nations over several years to standardize the International Day of Peace at September 21 of each year. You can read about him and what he accomplished here.
September 21, 2011, is a specific, symbolic Day of Peace. Whether by yourself or with others, participate in it today, and strive to make all 365 days of every year days of Peace.
COMMENT ON THIS POST FROM MARCIA BREHMER:
Here are the lyrics to a song sung by Peter, Paul & Mary called “Fair Ireland”….It kind of reminds me of what’s happening with 9/11…with just a few change of the word, eh?
Blessings,
Marcia
They build bombs and aim their pistols in the shadow of the cross
And they swear an oath of vengeance to the martyrs they have lost
But they pray for peace on sundays with a rosary in each hand
Its long memories and short tempers that have cursed poor ireland
Its long memories and short tempers that have cursed poor ireland
We have cousins on the old sod and we dont forget our kin
From boston we send more guns and we tell them they can win
Then we turn back to our green beer and to macnamaras band
Its true friends with false perceptions that have cursed poor ireland
True friends with false perceptions that have cursed poor ireland
They weave tales of wit and magic and their songs are strong and free
But they fail to hear each other, prisoners of history
Orange flags wave for the british to greet the armys clicking heel
And irish curse their irish brother for the altar where they kneel
And now provoked to greater anger by the distant royal hand
Its old hatreds and young victims that have cursed poor ireland
Old hatreds and young victims that have cursed poor ireland
So were left with retribution its the cycle of the damned
And the hope becomes more distant as the flames of hate are fanned
Who will listen to the children for theyre taught to take their stand
They say love and true forgiveness can still heal fair ireland
They say love and true forgiveness can still heal fair ireland
Only love and real forgiveness can still heal fair ireland

#239 – Dick Bernard: Reflections on Labor Day

/in , , , /by

Most Sundays the patrons of “my” local coffee shop will hear a somewhat odd trio in conversation along the east (street side) wall. Commanding one table is a retired middle manager of a major international corporation, someone who was fairly high up in the food chain in an important division of his company. At the middle table is a union guy who comes in most every weekend and is, by every indication, a very gifted “key” employee of his corporation, and (perhaps) sometimes a curmudgeon in his own union. Then there’s me, a retired Union organizer – one of “those” people – someone who spent 27 years trying to make sense out of nonsense – “the man in the middle” of assorted disputes and conflicts between working people and their managers.
After the usual bantering back and forth, when the conversation wanders back to the more reflective and serious, we three tend to agree much more than we disagree. The specifics of what we talk about are not as important as the fact that we are not as odd a bunch as we might seem to be. We might see problems and their solutions a little bit differently, but not as differently as one might imagine. We talk about things most people might talk about these days: work, workers, money in (or not in) the economy, how the national organism needs everyone to thrive to survive….
Sunday, as usual, I left coffee, went home, got set for the trip to my Church, the Basilica of St. Mary in Minneapolis.
Driving out of our town home development, we saw some cut firewood on a lawn, with a little sign – “Firewood, $5”. It was a small deal; somebody had been cleaning up a neighboring tree lot. My spouse, who’s President of our Homeowners Association, noted that somebody would complain about this little neighborhood enterprise – our Association has rules against that sort of thing. Then she said that the guy had lost his job recently, making the neighborhood enterprise make more sense – even if it was against the rules.
At Church, I picked up the Sunday bulletin. The front page commentary was by Janice Andersen, whose full-time job with us might well translate as “Social Justice”. The headline of her column: “Imagine being able to move out of homelessness with absolutely no furniture“. She then succinctly summarized the story of three anonymous people who had benefited from our Church’s St. Vincent de Paul Thrift store “gently used furniture” program: #1 – “Bill” finally has an entry level job after being out of work for some time…He makes enough money to pay for his rent and food….”; #2 – “Mary”…who lived in her car for two years…participating in a program that teaches interview skills and is looking for work”; #3 – “Ann” is a disabled senior who recently received custody of her grandson. She had no furniture other than a mattress on the floor….”
The visiting Priest, Fr. Greg Miller from St. John’s Abbey, pulled it all together for this Labor Day weekend, basing his comments on Luke 14:25-33, a key section of which says “anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”
Using a symbol familiar to all Catholics – a Rosary – Fr. Greg demonstrated the difference between Grasping (Greed) and Receiving (Generosity). In the first instance, a clenched down-turned fist, holding and hiding that Rosary; in the second, an open up-turned hand, receiving, then giving. Pretty dramatic.
“What we love is what we become“, he said. And he asked us to be especially cognizant, this Labor Day, of those who are “Unemployed, underemployed, and those who have given up looking for work.”
Good messages.
As a nation, we become together, exactly what we are individually. Period. Our “community” is much, much broader than what most of us might define it.