#109 Sacrifice
Dear all,
Well, we're back from British Columbia and a wonderful visit with Andrew and Erin and our new grandbaby--what a a treat!
The poem is an older one, evoking snow, which we haven't had much of this winter. And hopefully it will balance the essay on human sacrifice, which is just a tad serious. But I continue to marvel at how the conversation about economics has changed in just a few months--one of the things I'm finding most hopeful these days.
Love,
Pamela
Snowed in
Walk to the farmers market at the park
in freshly-falling snow
Bring home potatoes and parsnips
in the pack.
make fruitcakes & potato filling,
Set off for the Messiah sing
in dark and ever-deepening snow
picking through drifts,
raising voices that each count
when most are caught at home.
Snow falling all night
car buried in unplowed street
shovel the walk a third time, then
potato filling balanced in a basket on the arm
set out through knee-deep snow
hoping for the trolley
walking, looking back
then climb gratefully aboard
enjoy the service, the singing, the holiday meal
with those who ventured out
and found their way.
Snow day—stay late in bed
walk to the used bookstore
choosing the route most shoveled,
gather for evening class
with those who can walk.
Visit an elderly neighbor, then
bake a great batch of cookies
fill sixteen little bags
tie with bright ribbon
walk the neighborhood
to storefronts where we’ve shopped
throughout the year,
in snow and winter sunset
giving blessings, getting as much
or more.
As life returns to normal—
cars, work, rush—
give thanks
for these four days.
Human sacrifice
Most of us would see the ability to choose to sacrifice as a good and human thing. I can sacrifice immediate pleasure for a longer-range goal. I can sacrifice what I want for myself in the immediate situation because I see the more pressing need of somebody else. I can sacrifice a cherished dream that is no longer possible without contaminating my future with bitterness. I can cheerfully sacrifice convenience and comfort when community wellbeing or justice calls for it. I can even sacrifice my life, if necessary, in service to a higher good. Though not limited to our species, this seems to be a very human quality.
Of course sacrifice can go to extremes. There is a habit of self-sacrifice, of never acknowledging our value and always putting the perceived needs of others first, in a way that is ultimately helpful to no one. But in general we would choose to hang out with people who have the capacity to make sacrifices; we can trust that they have the larger picture—of not just themselves, not just this moment—in mind.
All of these, however, are examples of people choosing to make sacrifices. It can get a little trickier when the sacrifice is being called for by someone else. If you feel part of that body, it can still work. When the US entered World War II, for example, most people saw themselves as part of that effort. They were willing to make sacrifices—as civilians with fewer amenities and more work, as soldiers with their lives on the line.
But, as our sense of connection to those calling for sacrifice gets thinner, the enthusiasm wanes. At the far end of this spectrum is human sacrifice in the literal historical meaning of the term, where people are thrown into the gaping maw an all-powerful and angry god. Probably few of us would see anything noble or human about this.
It’s not pretty. Those who call for human sacrifice in these situations rarely offer themselves. They are the high priests, claiming to have the ear of the gods, who have gained enough ascendancy over the population, either through sophisticated psychology or coercive threat, that such sacrifice becomes an acceptable part of the religion.
Luckily that’s all way in the past, not something we have to worry about in our enlightened modern era. Or is it? A friend recently suggested—and I have to agree—that we are in the midst of just such a time. The new gods are the financial markets. These “markets” demand billions of dollars from governments to keep them fed, and more and more austerity measures in more and more countries. They must be not only obeyed but placated.
The high priests are the economists and Wall Street gurus. They claim that only they can understand the language of the gods. If we are to have any kind of future, we just have to trust them and do what they say,
The human sacrifice is… us. There may be others in front of us in line—those facing mortgage foreclosures, the unemployed and the poor in our richer countries, and almost everybody in the global south. But the line seems to be speeding up, and the call for human sacrifice on a larger and larger scale is growing. We are being called to sacrifice our jobs, our health, our homes, our very capacity to care for our families, all on the altar of the financial markets. Whole countries are being required to dismantle their safety nets. With gods and high priests like this, no one is safe.
We all do it because this is our religion, and when such big gods are angry, what other choice to you have? The pivotal scene from The Wizard of Oz seems uncannily apt. The Emperor of Oz, the Great and Terrible, is booming terrible commands and smoke is swirling and everybody is shaking in terror, when the little dog pulls back a curtain at the side of the great hall, revealing a little man at the controls of a fancy image-making machine. That clever little man, with the ominous pseudo-reality he has created, is willing to sacrifice everybody else in single-minded pursuit of his own self-interest. Are our high priests of finance any different?
This would be a really good time to pull back the curtain, shake our heads free of the illusion that seems so real, discredit those high priests, and refuse to sacrifice to those gods. Then we could get down to the business of deciding what kind of common good we’re willing to make sacrifices for.
A few things that have made me hopeful recently:
A new baby!
Seattle's ex-police chief, who is now working to end the war on drugs.
President Obama's rejection of a permit for the Keystone XL Pipeline, a decision made possible because of resistance that started in the indigenous communities of Canada and grew into a grassroots direct action effort, joined by a broad coalition of environmental and economic justice groups.
The growing interest in a financial transaction tax, that has the potential to raise billions of dollars, and perhaps discourage the casino mentality in our global financial institutions--at least a little bit.
Check out: www.ourchildrenourselves.org, a home for all the parenting
writing I've done over the past 20 years.
Also: www.startguide.org. START: a way to study and work together with
others to create a better world.
For earlier columns, go to www.pamelascolumn.blogspot.com.
(If the background is too dark to read, I hope you can get a computer whiz
to help--and let me know what you figured out! When I go there on my Mac
via Safari, it's fine.)
If you're in Philadelphia and want to move your money out of a big bank, go
to www.moveyourmoneyphilly.org.
Well, we're back from British Columbia and a wonderful visit with Andrew and Erin and our new grandbaby--what a a treat!
The poem is an older one, evoking snow, which we haven't had much of this winter. And hopefully it will balance the essay on human sacrifice, which is just a tad serious. But I continue to marvel at how the conversation about economics has changed in just a few months--one of the things I'm finding most hopeful these days.
Love,
Pamela
Snowed in
Walk to the farmers market at the park
in freshly-falling snow
Bring home potatoes and parsnips
in the pack.
make fruitcakes & potato filling,
Set off for the Messiah sing
in dark and ever-deepening snow
picking through drifts,
raising voices that each count
when most are caught at home.
Snow falling all night
car buried in unplowed street
shovel the walk a third time, then
potato filling balanced in a basket on the arm
set out through knee-deep snow
hoping for the trolley
walking, looking back
then climb gratefully aboard
enjoy the service, the singing, the holiday meal
with those who ventured out
and found their way.
Snow day—stay late in bed
walk to the used bookstore
choosing the route most shoveled,
gather for evening class
with those who can walk.
Visit an elderly neighbor, then
bake a great batch of cookies
fill sixteen little bags
tie with bright ribbon
walk the neighborhood
to storefronts where we’ve shopped
throughout the year,
in snow and winter sunset
giving blessings, getting as much
or more.
As life returns to normal—
cars, work, rush—
give thanks
for these four days.
Human sacrifice
Most of us would see the ability to choose to sacrifice as a good and human thing. I can sacrifice immediate pleasure for a longer-range goal. I can sacrifice what I want for myself in the immediate situation because I see the more pressing need of somebody else. I can sacrifice a cherished dream that is no longer possible without contaminating my future with bitterness. I can cheerfully sacrifice convenience and comfort when community wellbeing or justice calls for it. I can even sacrifice my life, if necessary, in service to a higher good. Though not limited to our species, this seems to be a very human quality.
Of course sacrifice can go to extremes. There is a habit of self-sacrifice, of never acknowledging our value and always putting the perceived needs of others first, in a way that is ultimately helpful to no one. But in general we would choose to hang out with people who have the capacity to make sacrifices; we can trust that they have the larger picture—of not just themselves, not just this moment—in mind.
All of these, however, are examples of people choosing to make sacrifices. It can get a little trickier when the sacrifice is being called for by someone else. If you feel part of that body, it can still work. When the US entered World War II, for example, most people saw themselves as part of that effort. They were willing to make sacrifices—as civilians with fewer amenities and more work, as soldiers with their lives on the line.
But, as our sense of connection to those calling for sacrifice gets thinner, the enthusiasm wanes. At the far end of this spectrum is human sacrifice in the literal historical meaning of the term, where people are thrown into the gaping maw an all-powerful and angry god. Probably few of us would see anything noble or human about this.
It’s not pretty. Those who call for human sacrifice in these situations rarely offer themselves. They are the high priests, claiming to have the ear of the gods, who have gained enough ascendancy over the population, either through sophisticated psychology or coercive threat, that such sacrifice becomes an acceptable part of the religion.
Luckily that’s all way in the past, not something we have to worry about in our enlightened modern era. Or is it? A friend recently suggested—and I have to agree—that we are in the midst of just such a time. The new gods are the financial markets. These “markets” demand billions of dollars from governments to keep them fed, and more and more austerity measures in more and more countries. They must be not only obeyed but placated.
The high priests are the economists and Wall Street gurus. They claim that only they can understand the language of the gods. If we are to have any kind of future, we just have to trust them and do what they say,
The human sacrifice is… us. There may be others in front of us in line—those facing mortgage foreclosures, the unemployed and the poor in our richer countries, and almost everybody in the global south. But the line seems to be speeding up, and the call for human sacrifice on a larger and larger scale is growing. We are being called to sacrifice our jobs, our health, our homes, our very capacity to care for our families, all on the altar of the financial markets. Whole countries are being required to dismantle their safety nets. With gods and high priests like this, no one is safe.
We all do it because this is our religion, and when such big gods are angry, what other choice to you have? The pivotal scene from The Wizard of Oz seems uncannily apt. The Emperor of Oz, the Great and Terrible, is booming terrible commands and smoke is swirling and everybody is shaking in terror, when the little dog pulls back a curtain at the side of the great hall, revealing a little man at the controls of a fancy image-making machine. That clever little man, with the ominous pseudo-reality he has created, is willing to sacrifice everybody else in single-minded pursuit of his own self-interest. Are our high priests of finance any different?
This would be a really good time to pull back the curtain, shake our heads free of the illusion that seems so real, discredit those high priests, and refuse to sacrifice to those gods. Then we could get down to the business of deciding what kind of common good we’re willing to make sacrifices for.
A few things that have made me hopeful recently:
A new baby!
Seattle's ex-police chief, who is now working to end the war on drugs.
President Obama's rejection of a permit for the Keystone XL Pipeline, a decision made possible because of resistance that started in the indigenous communities of Canada and grew into a grassroots direct action effort, joined by a broad coalition of environmental and economic justice groups.
The growing interest in a financial transaction tax, that has the potential to raise billions of dollars, and perhaps discourage the casino mentality in our global financial institutions--at least a little bit.
Check out: www.ourchildrenourselves.org, a home for all the parenting
writing I've done over the past 20 years.
Also: www.startguide.org. START: a way to study and work together with
others to create a better world.
For earlier columns, go to www.pamelascolumn.blogspot.com.
(If the background is too dark to read, I hope you can get a computer whiz
to help--and let me know what you figured out! When I go there on my Mac
via Safari, it's fine.)
If you're in Philadelphia and want to move your money out of a big bank, go
to www.moveyourmoneyphilly.org.
posted by Pamela Haines | 9:59 PM
|
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