In 1983, when I was a student at GC, I wrote my senior paper on the topic of gender. That was three years after Dolly Parton, Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin overthrew their male boss in the movie "9 to 5." Things have changed! But gender is every bit as important today, and for some new reasons.
In the midst of the heartbreak, tensions and tedium of the pandemic, I am alert to the changes happening within myself and in our society that may form the lasting legacies of this time. Some of these are causes for hope.
The past year has, among other things, made me question how well I know my country and its foundations.
The word I’ve kept circling back to is “Grounded.” 2020 knocked me around. I want to stand this year with two feet on the ground, knees slightly bent. I want to feel the earth supporting me; to know the firm and gentle force of gravity. I want to be steady.
I am in need of a Sabbath Christmas. Maybe you are too. Here is my wish for all of us in this December of 2020.
I am tired of the armor of masks and physical distancing. I want the armor of light! Our dark ordeal fuels an Advent longing further intensified by our many constraints. We simply cannot do the many things that we want to do to lighten our spirits. As plant and animal life goes underground in these short cold days, so are we forced inward again, into our houses, our small social bubbles and into ourselves.
This afternoon I do not want to write about cultural divisions, social injustice, the pandemic or even Goshen College. I want to tell you about a man and an octopus.
I refuse to succumb to the temptation to hitch my wagon to this political season and its outcome. I refuse, but honestly I struggle. As emotions swirl and fear about the outcome — or unclear outcome — rises, how do we stay grounded in another larger reality?
How do we work with our anger in ways that are non-addictive, non-violent and even fruitful?
I thought to myself: If we must live through this ordeal (and indeed, we must), this is the community I want to be a part of.
