palm sunday

"April 2, 1944, was Palm Sunday. It was a hazy, still day in San Salvador, which had been abandoned by many families seeking fresh breezes on the coast or at summer places outside the capital....Military planes were flying low, barely above their houses."

The struggle of the rural poor Salvadorans, and others of the non-elite class, to overthrow General Martinez, the oppressive president of the country, was advancing violently. Radio stations and telegraph offices had been seized. Rebels were already drinking to a victory they had not yet won.

But the powerful and oppressive government used their shear strength to prevail. The violent uprising was only a tiny obstacle for the regime. Martinez was capable of defeating anyone militarily.

So Salvadoran university students had to come up with a better plan of action, a force more powerful than violent rebellion. They stopped going to class and ceased reporting to work. They convinced shop owners to close down and gathered funds to support those on strike. There were no guns, and this movement is the one which removed Martinez from power.

Just as Jesus rode in on a humble donkey, prepared to suffer, the oppressed of El Salvador also refused to take up arms, repeating the legacy of the King who ruled by his affliction. By using weapons not of this world, they conquered evil. Fully equipped with palm branches and the most humble of war horses.

a reiki healing

On the way back to town from class today, I summarized the Israeli Occupation for my friend Kristen. My theory: if we all stop paying taxes, the oppression will end and the government won't have the money to put us into jail, so we will go unpunished.

On the way back to campus (I decided I wanted to go back to sit-in on Kristen's Spritual Healing Powers class), I met an individual on the shuttle run between Harrisburg and campus who works with an NGO as one who helps engaged/married people bring their spouses to the US. She was telling me that in order for me to bring my spouse to the US without a sponsor, I must have to have made over $18000 annually for three years. Kind of impossible as a student. It's a shame that a human in today's world must support an unjust government to have a clean tax record to be with the one he loves. I think romantic love must be the number one hindrance to carrying out one's convictions, yet the number one support factor at the same time.

I became very stressed over the situation, rambling to Kristen how unjust my scenario was. I could not consciously pay my taxes with blood on my hands, but I could also not bare to be apart from Suzan.

So we made it to class, and there was a Reiki healing specialist named Whitebear who was there to teach (and heal) us. He was a Christian, mind you.

So an added bonus was that Whitebear could see auras, a colored ring of light which emulates from us. He noted that I was a contemplative purple, which I had heard from others who could see auras also. Of course, with the charisma scare in our culture, you are always skeptical to begin with, and I still have my doubts. Nevertheless, I do believe Whitebear has the spiritual gift of healing (also, he's a pro masseuse).

Whitebear first took time to explain Reiki, an alternative form of medicine, to us. Then he started working with us all individually. He came to me last, for whatever reason, having already acknowledged me as purple at the beginning of the class. Upon coming to me he said, "Ah, skeptic number 2" (a previous kid had also been skeptical of him). Strangely, I was the only one that he said seemed to have no physical disturbance or pain on my body. This was true, as I was feeling good and rested today.

Finally, he asked if I had a decision to make. I was hoping he would come to this conclusion. He sat next to me and wanted to assist me in making this solution. I started secretly doing a meditation I had learned before, breathing in "Yah" and exhaling "Weh." Though he didn't know I was doing this, he immediately noted, "You're turning back and forth between blue and green now." Blue indicates an opening in spirituality, and green indicates the awakening of spirituality, at the body's most vulnerable center of compassion and love.

He touched my back, and I began to feel a warmth on my back. I noticed my something restless in my throat (the center of communication/expression and the opening to spirituality). I kept doing my meditation as he proceeded. He asked if I felt something in my legs. I did, and the twitch I felt moved down to my ankles. I was thinking about the decision: a decision to take a stand against government or the decision to sacrifice justice for the sake of being with my love (he had also mentioned love had something to do with this earlier). I told him I was not ready to make the decision (I wanted him to hold on longer so I could meditate more on it), and he said, "Let's see what happens when I take the indecision away."

Immediately, the leg/ankle twitching left me. The warmth on my back was gone. I was released from the healing process without reaching a verdict. During the whole thing, I was trying to come to a realization that the Kingdom of God is within me and that I can BOTH fight injustice and be with my love, despite the laws and systems in place. I wanted to realize I had the power. I think he didn't want to hold on to me for that long because he never wanted me to actually reach this decisive climax.

He said I was allowed to tear up. I felt myself beginning to do that, though there was seemingly no reason for it.

Anyway, although I reached no conclusions, I feel as if I am in the process of not only believing, but embodying the fact that the Kingdom of God is within me. The fact that this Kingdom is more powerful than any system, anything I can see, touch, or otherwise sense in this world (if you've ever seen The Matrix). With the Kingdom alive in me, I can use the Holy Spirit to see this world though a completely different light. I have the legitimate power to overcome facts, science, and logic and even do miracles. If we weren't called to do the impossible, God would be nothing but irrelevant. I can resist taxes and be with Suzan, simultaneously if I truly believe this Kingdom to be real. The question is whether I will remain a skeptic or embrace the madness of Jesus.

peace fellowship

I'm really pumped. Some students in my History of Peace class and some that came to the Intercollegiate Peace Fellowship Conference and I got together with a professor today to begin drafting our ideas for a Peace Fellowship at Messiah College. We are still debating whether we want to go through campus organizations to get funding and be established or if we want to remain underground to retain freedom of radicalism. So far we have a diverse crew: different majors, different obsessions, different ages, different genders. A common bond of a passion for restoring Shalom in our world.

Beginnings are always exciting.

there are always gems.

So today I got free Rita's italian ice five times because it's the first day of spring.

Actually, that's not the point of this post. I just wanted to note that last night I went to a house show. There were some really creative touring bands who used unique instruments (and things that weren't standard musical instruments). There were kind people and it was a good show.

Today Bianca came back and took me to the Midtown Scholar, which is a cool used-book store which I didn't know existed. Upon entry, I was observing the food drive at the front of the store where I was welcomed by my friend Liz who apparently works there. I love browsing books, and I came across a section where I found Leo Tolstoy (my new favorite), Henry David Thoreau (my old favorite), and a book by my own academic advisor at Messiah College. It was awesome to see all of these authors in the same section. It made me realize what a cool town I live in.

There are always gems. In (almost) every place in this world. You just gotta dig to find them sometimes. Often you have to become one of the local people to realize that they exist.

Also my friend Kristen who lives here is doing her senior paper on silence and words and I think it's just as exciting for me as it is for her. I got to pass on my Bhagavad Gita to someone actually interested in it for once. Although, I have to say that I am disappointed that I could not find a copy of the Upanishads at the Midtown Scholar. Either way, I still hold that the place is a gem, though maybe not yet pure gold.

the grassroots

Okay so here's my theory on the Church and politics:

If you want something to change, do it yourself, as a religious movement.

The second week of the semester I presented a paper to a class of politics majors. In the paper, we were supposed to decide whether the US should give legal status to illegal immigrants. Assuming the US to be the Christian nation it so claims to be, I argued that if we are loving our neighbors as ourselves, the debate over the policy would be irrelevant, as hospitality is one of the highest virtues of the Church.

I was criticized by my professor that boundaries had a moral value (even though, in their essence, they separate). I was criticized by my peers for just throwing politics out of the window.

Yes, I am largely throwing politics out the window, and as I stated in my presentation, the reason for doing that is because God does not operate through the schemes of acquiring power in this world.

When Nathaniel inquired about Jesus, he said, "Nazarith?! What good thing could come from that place," perhaps a valid critique for a man born to a refugee family. He was the scum of society.

The first ones to be dubbed "Christians" were said to be from Antioch. Antioch wasn't a huge checkpoint on the early apostles' map. It was a marginal town that they might just so happen to walk through. The movement didn't begin in giant, urban empires, nor is that where it thrives today.

Ethiopia has, throughout history, maintained one of the earliest and holiest forms of Christianity as we know it. These ascetic monastics are poor; they are the bottom class. However, they have managed to maintain doctrines stated from the mouth of Christ Himself: love thy enemy. Do not worry. Blessed are the poor. Africa's more recent missionary movements haven't proved to be as pure, full of slavery, exploitation, murder, and ethnocentrism. Yet among all of the westernization, Ethiopia still has their thing going strong. Few in number perhaps, but maybe a lot of people can't fit on the Narrow Path.

The Old Testament even casts light upon the spiritual power of the scum of the earth to come. Gideon, the lowest of his family, was raised up as a mighty warrior despite a lack of confidence. He was the one God chose, not exactly a Goliath of his day.

Point being, if our allegiance is to the Kingdom, rather than a physically expanding empire, we must chose to use weapons not of this world (Paul's language, not mine), to make change.

A good friend suggested to me that systematic problems require systematic solutions. She went to a meeting in which a group of passionate individuals collaborated to write petitions, hopefully changing government policy.

My take is both the same and different. Yes, we need to use systematic solutions and address the downward spirals of our world, but we do not need an artificial mediator to do this. With personal priesthood (the ability to be in union with God without a human facilitating), we believe we have everything we need. We do not need a government because we are governed by God Himself. We do not need the authoritative approval of another fallen individual. And we certainly cannot blindly assume that government positions are occupied by those purer than ourselves, especially with the increasing gap between rich and poor and the dozens of wars we declare, physically and economically, on outside countries.

Jesus told us to pray for the Kingdom to come on earth as it is in heaven. Can we then accept the total authority of our government?

"State was made for man, not man for the state." When policemen come arresting us for prophesying in the streets or refusing to pay taxes to an evil empire, claiming we did not adequately petition our authorities, we must respond with this statement. Why were the authorities not noticing our plight? Their job is to serve us, to come to us, not vice versa.

I am encouraging you to stand up, to directly implement the action which you believe will achieve the solution. Sometimes (most times?) this is not pretty. When the government of Harrisburg reduces aid to organizations serving the homeless, those organizations cannot come crying to the government - they must prophecy to the Church. It is not the governments business to care for those it considered the scum of the earth. It is the Church's business, rather, to serve those it believes to be the salt of the earth. Instead of crying for the financial resources, let us provide such things from our own pockets, our own pantries, our own homes, our own hearts.

If the government is not using our tax dollars for the community-benefiting things we are asking for, waste no time drafting petitions and documents. Simply do not pay the money. Instead, give the same sum to a local organization working to address the issue under which you suffer. The worst that can happen is imprisonment, and if we all stop paying taxes for unjust causes, prisons will all become closed down anyway!

I'm not out to condemn petition writers or those working toward political justice. I am not siding with one team or another. I am presenting a non-dualistic notion that suggests the overly quoted Ghandi saying, "We must be the change we wish to see in the world."

There is grace, as much as I am the oppressor, I am also the oppressed. When I look into the eyes of a corrupt politician, I see no one but myself. We are one, and our interconnectedness allows us no escape from each other. Therefore, if one suffers, so should the whole. In order to eliminate the unneeded government (to bring the Kingdom to earth as it is in heaven), we must, at the very least, begin to believe in the Church. I find (and I mean this in the humblest manner possible) that what separates me from many of my peers is the fact that I actually believe the Church is helpful to this world and can offer a huge change. I'm moving past cynicism. I'm not complaining about my local officials because I have no time to do that anyway. It will just blacken my soul. I'm simply trying to empower my fellow believers that confess Jesus not only as God but as Lord to realize the Kingdom that lives within them. This Kingdom, should we dare believe, holds a higher might and strength and grace than all the artificial systems of the world. This is why I have been politically converted, as some may call it, to anarchism. We can not use the means of the world to achieve an end not of this world.

Beloved, realize the power of love in you, the power that conquers and makes change through miracles rather than playing on the turf of the world's game of guns and slandering campaigns and abuse. Realization will not come without pain and sacrifice.

The truth is that I have not yet realized. I do not believe what I am saying: only in theory do I believe it. But I know it's true, and that before my death, I hope to reach it. But that does not mean I can act outside of the Kingdom. Just because I have not yet been crowned prince does not mean that I can act like an oblivious peasant.

I am convinced that creativity is part of reaching this divinity within ourselves. To illustrate this point, take the current debate in world issues over the proposed legislation in Uganda to outlaw homosexuality (among other things like bisexuality, transsexualism, etc) and give its practitioners the death penalty. Before we go thinking about whether or not a Christian nation should pass such a law, let us think outside the box: how could we love those persecuted under such a law? We could hide homosexuals in our homes and provide hospitality; we could help them escape. In the end, we cannot let the government control our actions. Professing followers of Jesus can only allow God to control their actions. Through doing so, we can convert government officials to realize their inner Kingdom, but if that doesn't happen, we should endure sufferings alongside of our needy family of homosexuals and liars and sinners all the same.

When the Holy Spirit, or as New Testament language calls it, the "helper," becomes a part of us, nothing can stop us unless we conform to the patterns of the world. If we refuse to play the same ballgame as those who use a power other than Kingdom power, we will inevitably overcome. It is only a matter of endurance and patience. Again, I am not suggesting a dualism between anarchy and democracy, but I am suggesting a dualism between Church and state. Pure and faultless religion is keeping oneself from being polluted by the world. All things which are not inherently God cannot be relied upon, but His promise that the meek shall inherit the earth will last until the end of ages.

life on spring break.

Wake up in the early afternoon.
Play Kingdom Hearts for several hours.
Make food or bike to the market.
Play more Kingdom Hearts.
Try to read, but then realize an internal yearning for human interaction.
Go out for a walk to find someone to talk to, or maybe some food handouts.
Come back and mourn over broken computer.
Play Kingdom Hearts.
Realize how little has been accomplished.
Sleep.
Repeat.



A much-needed lifestyle. But it will thankfully last no longer than this week.

end the occupation.

Last night Tom came over and we drove to the Dauphin County Prison. I wanted to see for myself if snow really blew into jail cells and if the conditions were indeed the worst of all prisons in PA. Of course, we had to go through metal detectors and nobody gave us any information about anything. We were waved out pretty quickly since we did not have a meeting personally set up with an inmate.

This morning I woke up and went downstairs to borrow a bike, because I told Tom I'd meet him at Harrisburg Brethren in Christ in the morning for service. As I was grabbing a bike, I found Bianca also going for a ride, so we went to the church together. It was a decent service, nothing highly notable in my opinion. We then visited my old friend Bekah who lives at the Sycamore House in Allison Hill, a communal living house attached to and affiliated with the Episcopalian church. Bianca and I then went to City Island, which apparently has prettier biking paths than I thought. The weather has been improving, but I'm skeptical. It's Pennsylvania.

So after returning to SALT, I decided to watch Occupation 101, a documentary made in recent years about the Israeli Occupation. Here is what I learned and what I'd like to share with you:

The US media makes it seem as if the Jews are surrounded by angry and threatening Arabs, when in fact the Arabs and Palestinians are being heavily oppressed.

If the US would cease its aid to Israel, the occupation would not last.

Israel gets more foreign aid than all foreign nations combined ($108 from US up to 2006).

Fundamentalist Christians believe Zionists Jews are involved in a holy pursuit of the land. They perpetuate conservative Christian support, in complete disregard to the inhumane crimes being committed by Israelis to Palestinians.

Under Obama's new proposals, my hometown York County will contribute $42,862,485.50 to the occupation between 2009 and 2018. The money Harrisburg will contribute could provide 4,600 people per year with primary health care. Billions of dollars will be given to injustice, an economic force which in theory could obliterate world hunger.

By International Standards, the occupation is completely and utterly illegal, but the US has used their veto power in the UN over 40 times to pardon human rights crimes.



But the US has deemed our interests holy and helpful. So we must obey. We are US citizens so we are to blindly obey authorities. We are a Christian nation which means we can allow mass slaughter and allow others to endure lifetimes of oppression, not knowing what life without fear and poverty is like.

We don't understand what Just War is, but why bother learning when we have a nation that can declare war for us. We're being protected right? So we'd rather not know what is really going on in this world. We holy people can get our hands involved with that mess.

There is hope. We must stop paying taxes. We must instead give that money to nonviolent peacemaking in the Middle East. This is my incompetent plea.

Sleeping and Washing as Spiritual Disciplines

So I'm back into my American college-student routine: Go to class, go to work, go to meetings, go to my room and do work, go to sleep at 1 AM. Get up early and repeat.

From my childhood, I remember Sunday school teachers telling me that in such a busy world, we have to make time for God. "Just give him an hour," they said. "If you spend one hour watching TV, you should be able to read the Bible for one hour too."

I'll save my thoughts on guilt-driven Bible-reading for another day. The point is that we are told to "make time" for God. First of all, humans can't make time. We can make calendars and watches and clocks and sundials and be slaves to them, but who holds the sun in the sky? Who suspends the twisting globe? God made time. I think.

The notion of "making time for God" is hidden behind the underlying assumption that there is a clear line to be drawn between solidarity with God and necessary daily tasks.

Here at the SALT House, we have free laundry facilities. It's awesome, yes, but it is also damaging. A few months ago I was washing my clothes by hand. It's a lot of work, for sure, but I developed a relationship with my clothes. I knew each shirt and trouser inside and out, and I appreciated being able to use them more and more each day. As I watched each outfit go from dirty to clean, I had the opportunity to take in everything around me and truly enjoy the benefits of God's provision of soap and sunshine.

Sometimes I am not able to successfully get the recommended eight hours of sleep. I'm sure some of you are in the same boat. For those of us who take 18 credits in a semester, we know going to bed before midnight is not an option.

So in the morning I wake up and I'm exhausted. Someone then tells me I have this obligation to spend time praying with God, and that I'm probably not a quality dude if I can't manage to do that. Then I get grumpy and folks therefore say, "You gotta go relax and read your Bible or pray," when in reality that will just grind my gears more, because I know I have stuff to do which other people require of me.

And that is why if I am ever a professor I will not have my students read or write often, unless they want to. I'm not complaining about schoolwork. I'm complaining about people expecting too much out of human beings, then expecting them to be able to sacrifice sleep and washing of clothes by "spending time with God" to regain their energy.

I just recommend that we eat together, wash clothes together, sleep in, and enjoy God's presence and provision through all of these things.

Just some incoherent thoughts to keep you reading until I have something more interesting to write about.

Africa Follows Me Around....Or Do I Follow Africa?

In my first class this morning, Director of Uganda Studies Program (where I was last semester), Mark Bartels, came into my classroom. He made a short presentation on the study abroad program.

After class, I went to work. Ten minutes into work, Mark Bartels shows up, receiving a tour from Chad Frey, the director of the Agape Center.

After work I went to Boyer where Mark was conducting an info session for potential USP students.

I decided to get away from Mark for awhile, so I went to the Union to do some reading. I set down on a couch next to a group of students that did a different study abroad program in Uganda, as they were talking about their experiences. Then they invited me to an Invisible Children event going on. I refused, needing to get away from Uganda.

I moved to another couch and read about one page before Mark walked into the Union and invited me to eat with him. I accepted. Then USP alums in the central PA area met for two hours to have a reunion.

On the shuttle ride back home, Kristina and I talked about our study abroad in Uganda.

Uganda is a beautiful place with beautiful people and all, but I'm ready to start my schoolwork instead (it being 10:30 at night now).

Oh, and apparently a local church dropped the ball on scheduling volunteers for the Safe Harbor Shelter for the homeless this month, so now Messiah students have the opportunity to step it up this month and bless our local poor by spending our time at the new shelter facility.

first full weekend in harrisburg.

I went to see a film called the Last Station, which is about one of my new favorite authors and thinkers, Leo Tolstoy. Leo Tolstoy wrote about love, passive resistance, etc in Russia in the early 1900's, an historical era for his country. The film is about, among other things, how his relationship with his wife got in the way of his wanting to give away his riches and literature copyrights to the common people of Russia. The film is great, though I do not think it gives the viewer a good idea of Tolstoy's ideals.

I also went to my first Quaker meeting on Sunday morning with the two girls from the SALT House who frequently attend. I enjoyed the meeting. when I introduced myself as a visitor, I explained that I was from Messiah College and lived with Ali and Katie. My introduction was replied with a unanimous, "Welcome." Only later did I realize that my introduction may have sounded scandalous - me "living" with two girls and all. "That's okay," Katie said. "They are very open people."

The people at the meeting seemed very interested in justice and their community, which you don't find every day in Christian circles. I explained to Ali and Katie that I wouldn't mind attending again but I feel as if being a part of a 95% white congregation is against my conscience. That got us on a good discussion for the rest of the walk back home.

Also, I made mashed potatoes from scratch for the first time for our potluck. everyone seemed to enjoy them, and I enjoyed everyone else's dish too. It is a spiritual discipline to eat with others.

A new week begins.