Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Booksaustion!
I don't quite know how it'll all work out from here--I hope that I have a better sense of things by the time I get my second, third, fourth, etc. books finished. I have that many at least in various stages of completion--it's just that I didn't know before how to actually get published. And I was doing it primarily for family before, or therapy, or...whatever.
I have to talk a little about completing the Iraq book in particular. As of this Memorial Day weekend, I am now four years out of Iraq. It is hard to read how at the very end of my time there, just after the Abu Ghraib scandal broke, that Iraqis--and we--believed that healing might come, that perhaps the worst was over. No, it was not to be. Rather, Abu Ghraib and all that went into it launched us over into the abyss and we have yet to recover.
Still, here is one testimony, and many testimonies within it, for peace. Words that will now no longer be forgotten or silenced. Some words have never been public before. I was thinking of that, and what it may mean, as I went back through and filled in the spaces between the letters and human rights reports I'd written publicly earlier.
In the meantime, it's a funny feeling, having immersed myself entirely in that book for the past few days--immediately preceded by the jail article; immediately followed by the Iran article and two final papers for school. Anyway, in the midst of this, I realized how quickly I got pulled back into the feeling of being there--particularly as everything went to hell in spring of '04 (Abu Ghraib/Blackwater/Fallujah). The past little while, I've been sitting in my chair by the window, in mild Hyde Park, Chicago, and yet the hair-trigger anticipation that a bomb might blow up the car in the street, or the building nearby could go boom, or the person on the sidewalk will raise a gun towards the apartment--I'm a little on edge, I guess.
So, perhaps I will not feel so guilty for having sloughed off my writing for today. Perhaps a little TLC was needed instead. I walked around the neighborhood and documented the murals that are about to disappear; I enjoyed the weather; I ate Middle Eastern food (a kefta sandwich and shourb adas, lentil soup); I made sure to reply to all the lovely people who've invited me for coffee. And I needed to rest my neck, eyes, and wrists--all of which have been killing me this week. They are recuperating nicely as of this evening.
Tomorrow, then, back to work. There's more to get done.
peace,
Le Anne
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Yay! I'm published online at the Christian Century!
Seminary behind bars
By Le Anne Clausen
I spent spring term of seminary in prison serving a 30-day sentence for civil disobedience at the School of the Americas.
Being a good seminarian as well as an activist, I'd hoped to take along Bonhoeffer's Letters and Papers, King's Letter from a Birmingham Jail, Thoreau's treatise on Civil Disobedience.
But books, magazines and newspapers weren't allowed—only a prison-issued Bible produced by Prison Fellowship. There was a library, but we couldn't use it unless a guard could escort us personally, and most of the time they didn't want to. I realized I was in a theological desert, and begin to read and love crime novels again. They were slightly less disturbing than the endless hours of "true crime" television shows chosen for the prisoners by the guards.
The jail was in suburban Illinois, and nearly all the female inmates were white. We had an overflow population from the immigration detention center in the next cell block. Most people were there because they couldn't afford to bail out. Younger women were usually there for drug-related reasons; older women, alcohol-related.
I was surprised that the younger women saw me as old (I'm 30), and even more surprised that they sought me out for pastoral care. I established office hours from my cell. I worked with immigrants who had no access to translators for legal aid requests. I took dictation for women who wanted to write their families but couldn't do so on their own. It was as busy a pastorate as any I've known. The most common concern of the women was separation from their children—I'd hear loud wails from the phone area night after night.
I found myself filled with anger every time we had "church." A local fundamentalist group would show up. There were no hymns and the prisoners weren't allowed to speak. Instead we got a full dose of preaching about how awful we were and how we needed Jesus; and the dangers of non-Christian faiths and homosexuality. The prison-issued Bible and other "approved" religious books (http://www.celebraterecovery.com.au/) also came with similar agendas inserted in them. One leader made us read the Day of Atonement text (Leviticus 16) and commented, "This is what Jews have to do to get their forgiveness. Aren't you glad all you need is Jesus?" When I calmly suggested she consider some seminary courses, she took my remark as a compliment.
Frustrated, I talked with a friend who was Eastern Orthodox. She put it in perspective: "We may not agree with what they say, but at least they come. And it's our only chance to get out of this box for an hour or so, to sit in a real chair instead of a cold steel bench, and they care, or they wouldn't keep coming back. They write me cards. They take this seriously."
The new chaplain, however, gave me hope. She advised me to focus my Bible study on Paul's letters from prison, and reflect on how he ministered to others while himself a prisoner. She said she wished she could offer more ministry programs for inmates, but said possibilities were limited because McHenry County is a maximum security facility. She thought the next best approach was to work with the women after they were released, to offer a support circle similar to those the women formed inside—something many of them had never experienced elsewhere.
On the day of my release I met a group of local pastors outside the jail. By coincidence, they'd just visited with the sergeant to ensure access to their parishioners as well as immigration detainees. But although they'd been assured they could visit without restrictions, my fellow inmates and I had been told that if our pastor came to visit, we would forfeit a family visit for the week.
We agreed to work on this and other problems together. There is a lot of work to be done.
Le Anne Clausen is a senior M.Div. student at Chicago Theological Seminary. She blogs at Journal of a Young Activist (www.young-activist.blogspot.com).
Friday, May 23, 2008
We Won! People Power Victory over the SOA/WHINSEC!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Please call-- Important Surprise Vote on the SOA/WHINSEC! Call Congress Today!
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Monday, May 05, 2008
Resurrection for All?
for Lazarus, little girls, and Christ?
No, we are promised ourselves Resurrection
of the body, our bodies, however imperfect
and our own souls, however imperfect
transformed by faith into Love
this is the greatest forgiveness.
Might we all be
no longer desiring or capable of harming others?
Might we all be
no longer afraid?
if all creation is redeemed,
then all lives can be,
have been,
will be redeemed?
Forgiveness does not obliterate justice but revenge.
(originally written April 18, 2008)
Atonement as Seen from My Cell
Atonement, as seen from a prison cell at 5am.
If Jesus "had to die", then we just had to kill him.
Yet if we had to kill him, we credit ourselves for having saved ourselves from sin.
If we saved ourselves, we have no use for God.
No. It is not like this.
Crucifixion is not atonement; it is murder. Let it not be otherwise.
The great fault in our use of the Gospels is that we have been deluded into believing that an innocent must die so that we might be saved.
And we have continued in that delusion 2,000 years.
And in every war in our world we play out that delusion over and over:
That the innocent must die so we are "saved."
So we should not rejoice that Jesus "died for us."
No, let us admit: Jesus died because of us.
Let us not pat ourselves on the back.
The sin of the world was not so great that we had no option but to kill him, that Jesus had to be sent to die.
No. Innocent blood serves nothing. It is only loss.
Rather, the sin of the world was so great that Jesus had to be sent--to live among us, and teach us again how to love; our ideas of love, God, and reconciliation had become so tortured and wrong.
And our sin was so great that we killed love's teacher, we killed Love.
No. Crucifixion is only an affront to God. Not a peace offering.
We must never forget this.
Resurrection on the other hand, now, that's Atonement.
That is picking up the pieces of the broken Christ, healing in order to heal the world and not destroy it, to forgive;
Only God could choose this.
We did not force God's hand in this;
We did not help God save us.
We were not secretly counting on resurrection,
Only execution.
Resurrection and its healing is not what we deserved for our deed, but what God chose to do, for us.
Crucifixion is what Jesus did not deserve.
Resurrection welcomes us back as forgiven children, though we were once convicted murderers. It is not Death Row, but New Life. Our past is not to be forgotten but we still must take joy in the Great Forgiveness.
No, we must never forget the Crucifixion.
We must never pat ourselves on the back for it.
Must never declare it necessary
or any other rationalization of our deed.
We must not blame God for our fault.
We must instead recognize that God chose to love us, Despite.
Resurrection is the great surprise and cause for celebration.
And we must never forget, there are plenty of people in the world today
who do not deserve to die
but we believe we have to kill them
for some greater glory, for collateral damage.
They are right to see themselves in the
crucified Christ and to see Christ in themselves.
They are witness to the whole human depravity.
God speaks to them hope of Resurrection
But we should not find ourselves comforted.
But we go on destroying the innocent
Crediting ourselves for saving ourselves
Blaming God and the victims for their deaths
Why is love so hard to learn?