Dear Tikkunistas,

It is with great pleasure that we bring you the Spanish translation of the Environmental and Social Responsibility Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, or ESRA. Written by Rabbi Michael Lerner and Peter Gabel, and developed in collaboration with the Network of Spiritual Progressives, this Spanish version was translated by José Luis Sanchez (and proofread by me).

We hope this enables more people to get excited about the ideas of the ESRA. Please pass this post or the entire text around to any Latino organization or individual you think might want to get behind it. Also, remember that we are looking for people who can translate the ESRA into Hebrew, Arabic, French, Italian, German, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Portuguese, and other languages. If you know anyone with these language capabilities who would like to do it, please ask them to contact Rabbi Lerner at rabbilerner@tikkun.org. We are interested in translating other Tikkun articles and NSP materials as well.

Por favor, circule este documento y procure el endoso de consejos municipales, legislaturas estatales, senadores y congresistas federales, partidos políticos y organizaciones cívicas, religiosas y profesionales.

Por favor, firme y endose la Enmienda de Responsabilidad Ambiental y Social (ESRA)a la Constitución de los Estados Unidos.

SSgt. Craig Wiesner in 1986 at the Defense Language Institute

In 1987 I left the United States Air Force after serving honorably for eight years. I couldn’t stand the idea of having to hide who I was, having to live a lonely isolated life, and despite being willing to live without love or true companionship, facing the constant threat of being outed and having my career destroyed.

This week, Congress can help to right a wrong that has destroyed lives, careers, and perpetuated prejudice and discrimination against people who simply wanted to serve their country. The military has spoken and those who serve have said that they want an end to “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.” Let’s show our military that we listen to them and urge Congress to put an end to this stain on our nation’s honor.

“Alas,” said the mouse, “the world is growing smaller every day. At the beginning it was so big that I was afraid, I kept running and running, and I was glad when at last I saw walls far away to the right and left, but these long walls have narrowed so quickly that I am in the last chamber already, and there in the corner stands the trap that I must run into,”
“You only need to change your direction,” said the cat, and ate it up.

A Fable by Franz Kafka

Kafka’s story haunts me, as his stories always have. This one at first seems a simple enough eighty-seven words But while with many writers the ambiguities clarify as you go deeper, with Kafka they always get more complex. The mouse worries about his life having led him into a now inevitable trap. We have a sense of what mouse traps are, and a sense of how our own choices narrow as we age. But is the cat the trap that the mouse sees coming, or is the cat a trap not seen? But the cat is multiple: it’s both the one who knows how the mouse might escape from the trap and it’s the death from which the mouse cannot escape.

If the mouse had changed his direction, would he have escaped the cat? There are two reasons to think so: the cat is in the last chamber, so if the mouse had gone somewhere else he might not have run into the cat. And if the mouse hadn’t been worrying about the walls, worrying about the enormity of the world, he might have had more attention to devote towards worrying about things like cats.

My world too has gotten smaller, or so it seems to me.

Thanks to our friend Dave Kane at the Maryknoll Office for Global Concerns for sending us this:

Two urgent situations require quick action from those who are concerned about world hunger. Your action can help counteract the massive presence of banking lobbyists in Washington. At a time when we give thanks for food on our plates, let’s help make sure that is a reality for people across the U.S. and around the world.

In 2008, price bubbles in food and energy prices led to $4 gasoline in the U.S. and, according to the UN, forced over 130 million people around the world to go hungry. A significant factor behind those price bubbles was excessive speculation in food and energy commodity markets. For more information about excessive commodity speculation, go to www.stopgamblingonhunger.com.

While the recently passed Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act includes good steps to rein in speculation and bring common sense rules back to the commodity markets, important details were left to be defined by regulatory agencies. Wall Street is working feverishly to undermine and weaken the law during this process. You can help show regulators that big bankers are not the only ones interested in financial reform.

Please do these two things during the Thanksgiving holiday

Rochester, MN UU church sign (photo by Jonathunder)

It takes a certain amount of chutzpah to blog, something I have been learning about over these past few months. You have to be pretty sure of yourself. But sometimes, the ethically and spiritually right thing to do is apologize. And I owe you my readers an apology. (We’ll get to the question later. It is on a different topic.)

A few days ago, I posted on DADT for the first time ever. I did so because I felt that a particular argument needed to be made and offered to the public, and not having seen anyone else make it (maybe I just haven’t been reading broadly enough), I decided it must be mine to deliver. But I did so with trepidation, and my trepidation proved well-founded.

Although there are many great signs from John Stewart’s “Rally to Restore Sanity,” one of my favorite ones has the following text:

Image from Rrenner

I HATE TAXES
But I like:  Roads,
Firemen, some cops,
traffic lights,
National Parks,
the Coast Guard,
various TLA’s, etc.
So I pay them anyway.

(In this context I’m guessing that TLA’s refers to “Three-Letter Acronyms”)

During this Thanksgiving season, that sign caused me to reflect on the old complaint – “I wouldn’t mind paying taxes if we actually got our money’s worth from them.”    Are the benefits we get from our taxes really worth what we pay?

Time for a little reflection on my life.  I wake up each weekday morning and drive to work on well maintained roads, to a nice job that is only possible because we have a suitably regulated economy that is comparatively free of corruption.    I received a great education thanks in large part to subsidies from various state and local governments.  My family and I have access to great medical care should we need it, and we have a virtually unlimited bounty of food available at incredibly cheap prices.  Most importantly and too often overlooked, we live with a sense of physical security and safety that must be incomprehensible to large segments of the world’s population. 

Much of this wonderful life style is the result of the hard work of many private individuals, but it would not be possible at all if it wasn’t for the collective government work and services enabled by the taxes we pay.  Is the life style I enjoy worth the taxes I pay?  I’m not advocating for a large tax increase here, but when I compare my situation to what it could be in other circumstances, I can’t help but conclude that my life style and my family’s safety would be a bargain at three times the cost.   For that I am grateful.

By Neil Hanson

The flap over the TSA searches of airline passengers highlights just how far we’ve fallen into the deep chasm of slavery to fear and the illusion of security.

I have zero doubt in my mind that the deep and exhaustive searches that we submit ourselves to when we fly reduces the threat of violence on aircraft, and reduces the risk that we’ll experience another event like 9/11 employing passenger airliners as weapons.

We’re absolutely mitigating a risk, and we’re paying a price to do so. The annual budget of the TSA is about $6.3 billion, and that doesn’t count all the collateral financial costs of a nation submitting to this level of scrutiny. We also pay with the loss of one more portion of our privacy.

Is this collection of prices worth the benefit we receive in the form of a risk that is partially mitigated?

There is no doubt that if we give the state complete power to invade our privacy, and complete visibility into the private lives of all citizens, we will be able to greatly reduce the risk that we will experience violence. But is that a price we’re willing to pay?

In the nearly 9 years since 9/11 occurred, we have instituted and maintained very intrusive and rude personal searches of anyone who travels the public airline systems. In that time, we have the deaths of approximately 3500 people on 9/11 as the toll of the risk that we’re trying to mitigate. Let’s put that into the context of the other risks that we gladly accept each day of our lives.

Secretary Clinton visits the DMZ conference room in Korea

I’ve stood in that room, a conference room at the DMZ between South and North Korea. Just inches away from soldiers who might some day be firing at me and my friends, you really get it, you get why you do the job you do, whether it is inches away or miles away from that guy staring through the window. As we head into Thanksgiving weekend, I remember my years stationed in Korea and I worry about all the people, on both sides of the DMZ, and whether South Korea can hold fast, hold off, and not respond to the second serious attack this year by the North. People have died. Many more could.

Why is it so hard to be grateful?

In the churches of my childhood, the ministers would intone, “Let us give thanks,” perhaps after the collection plate had been passed, and we would all bow our heads and go through the motions. I don’t remember feeling actual gratitude.

But that wasn’t for lack of reminding. A hymn too exhorted us, “Count your Blessings. Name them one by one, and you’ll be surprised at what the Lord has done.” I do not recall ever literally counting my blessings or being surprised, except in a bad way, at what the Lord had done. Being the pious kind of person who read the Bible from cover to cover on summer vacation, I must have gone through the exercise, in prayers on my knees, but I do not recall feeling grateful. Maybe I thought my blessings wouldn’t add up to much, or maybe I didn’t know how to be grateful. Gratitude was hard to muster; however, sardonic and sarcastic responses arose with great ease.

Isn’t gratitude just happy talk, denial, and bullshit? Isn’t it masochism?

Image Courtesy of Road Fun @ flickr.com

No matter how difficult it may be in a world filled with pain and cruelty, there are moments when it is important to stop looking at all the problems and focus on all the good. And that’s part of what Thanksgiving could be about for you this year. Life is so amazing, and our universe so awesome, filled with realities that transcend our capacity to comprehend, and inviting us to awe and wonder and radical amazement! Give yourself and your friends a day dedicated to truly feeling those kinds of feelings!

I don’t mean only a moment of sharing “something we all appreciate” during the traditional meal. I mean, in addition, actually consciously shaping the day in such a way that the focus of attention throughout the day is on giving thanks.

It might start with a group of friends or family taking a walk to visit some part of nature that they really love. And expressing thanks for it. Or, you might consider structuring some time (an hour before or after dinner, perhaps?) in which each person gets to be by her or himself for ten minutes and encouraged to focus on getting in touch with the things that s/he really appreciates in her/his life, and to find some way to offer thanks (a song, a prayer, words said in silence or aloud, a hymn or tune you want to offer the Universe or God — some way in which you let out of your mouth your thanks for all the goodness in the world and in your own world). If that’s not likely to occur where you go for your Thanksgiving meal, create this space for yourself earlier in the day.

This week’s spiritual wisdom comes to us from progressive activist and novelist James T. Dette, who urges Christians today to reflect on their Jewish roots. A native of New Jersey, Dette has long been active in local and national politics, and has contributed to such publications as The New York Times, Irish America, and Street News.

The Council of Jerusalem

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO JOHN

I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood in Passaic, New Jersey, two blocks from the synagogue, Ahavas Israel. Most of my boyhood friends were Jews. My Irish mother played mah-jongg with her Jewish neighbors. And we were well supplied with matzos during Passover. I attended bar mitzvahs and even the wedding of the daughter of our next-door neighbor. Most of the pupils in my grammar school, which was right next to the synagogue, were Jewish. We used the Jewish community center gym for our physical education classes.

I’ve always had uneasiness with John’s use of the word “Jew” in his gospel. In The Birth of Christianity, Dominic Crossan declares unequivocally that there is no anti-Semitism in the gospel, saying that the use of the word was the result of an internecine dispute. I accepted that but still could not dismiss my unease.

Last weekend I was invited to take part in the 4th annual Faith and Feminism/Womanist/Mujerista conference at herchurch in San Francisco. The theme this year was “Reclaiming the Divine Feminine — pathways to a sustainable world.” Now, I consider myself a feminist in that I support equal rights and protection for women and believe that women have unique experiences that give them a different perspective on life and different needs than men, but I’m not the type to identify myself as a feminist first and foremost. And I’ve never been to a feminist conference. You could probably call me a mainstream feminist.

I went into the conference expecting to meet some nurturing-mother types, a few strict scholars, hippies with long flowing hair, and a lesbian separatist or two — stereotypes I realize, but this is what came to mind and I like to meet stereotypes head on. I did meet women fitting into many of these roles, but overall I was surprised by how mainstream the event was. Herchurch may be housed in an ostentatious purple building, but it is, afterall, a Lutheran church. In many ways it felt not so different from the progressive Protestant community I grew up in.

I was most caught off guard by Jann Aldredge-Canton, who led a workshop on gender inclusive hymns and liturgy. In a smart tailored jacket and with a charming Louisiana accent, she fits right in in Baptist communities in Texas, despite the fact that she writes or re-writes hymns to include feminine/Goddess language of liberation and equality. So much for my preconceived notions. She offered practical advice on how to “sneak” the Goddess into churches through song, noting that people are much more accepting of similes than metaphors when comparing God to something feminine, and that “guide us” sounds a lot like “goddess” when you sing it.

US Army: Border Police in Paktiya (photo by Staff Sgt. Andrew Smith)

In times of war, sacrifice is, unfortunately, required. The US is at war now, and we live in a profoundly dangerous world. Thus, while we may wish it were not so, when it comes to DADT we must put personal agendas aside and focus on the greater good.

That’s right, DADT supporters, I’m talking to you.

After receiving visas to work in the United States, a number of immigrant workers found themselves working seventeen-hour days at the New York State Fair for $2 an hour, living in a cramped, bed bug-infested trailer, and lacking access to a sufficient supply of food and water. These workers came to the Workers’ Center of Central New York this fall in a state of malnutrition and dehydration and filed suit against their employer, Pantelis Karageorgis, who allegedly denied his workers thousands of dollars in wages.

According to a news piece published last week by In These Times, the U.S. Attorney’s office has dropped the criminal charges and is currently negotiating a “modest settlement” for these workers. While New York state is no stranger to wage theft, this particularly egregious case has emboldened Interfaith Worker Justice’s (IWJ) — and Rebecca Fuentes’ — call to action.

Fuentes, Director of the Workers’ Center of Central New York in Syracuse, emphasized the severity of the crimes committed against these workers in a press conference yesterday. “The theft of their wages is only a small part of the suffering they have endured,” she said. “They will never forget the anguish they experienced and the cruelty of being forced to work and live in inhumane conditions.”

This is just one example of wage theft, defined by IWJ Director Kim Bobo as “the illegal defrauding of workers from their wages.” Common acts of wage theft include violations of minimum wage, denying workers time and a half overtime pay, forcing laborers to work off the clock, and withholding final paychecks.

One month ago I drank some extremely noxious laxatives, and went into a small room where a man stuck a camera up my rectum and took a series of photos. It was an invasive and unpleasant procedure, one which I repeat every five years, thanks to advice from my doctor and two friends who have survived colon cancer. I’d rather have a colonoscopy than colon cancer. Whether I want to go through a similar procedure every time I take an airplane is a related question, one we may face in our immediate future. The path that leads to that hypothetical question starts with a media scan of the new TSA (Transportation Security Association) scanners and the policy that comes with them..

The “naked-scanners” are now in place at many US airports, and the plan is to have a thousand installed by the end of 2011. A bill to make them mandatory at all airports by 2013 is currently before the Senate. But at present would-be air travellers have a choice: they can be seen naked by air agents or be “patted down”. There are some good reasons not to want either of them, but you won’t get on the flight without one. We’ll start with the scanners, which have three really basic problems: safety, privacy, and functionality.

I am writing from New York, a city I love, at the end of a 5-day visit. I lived in Manhattan for 6 years in the 1980′s, and I come back as often as I figure out how. Here are some moments that stay with me from this visit.

Energy

I’ve been walking around the apartment where I’ve been staying in short sleeves. I’ve been sleeping with only a light blanket. The windows have been open. The first night I ignored my friend’s advice and closed the window to block of the noise. This resulted in the temperature in the room rising to 80 degrees by morning. Since then I’ve left the window open while the heat is blasting. Talking to another friend, I learn this is common, all around town, in the older buildings. She tells me that because there are fewer cars than anywhere else, and because of the concentration of living spaces, NY actually uses a lot less energy than other cities in the US. Still, knowing the global situation of oil depletion and rising temperatures, I find it unbearable to settle with this widespread leakage of energy. Is there really no solution?

Children

The following are not specific to NY. I have seen and heard similar exchanges elsewhere. In NY much happens in the streets, in public. There are so many people on the streets all the time, everything happens at once, intense, incessant. So all of these I saw within 5 days.

• Two people walk toward me, clearly in a fight. I don’t know what it’s about. The man says something to the woman before I can hear them. As they walk by I hear her say, in a raised voice: “Don’t talk to me like that. I am not your child.” She is saying, and maybe she doesn’t know she is saying it, that it would be OK if she were his child. This statement suggests that talking “like that” to children, whatever it actually was, is acceptable, normal, routine. Why are we collectively assuming it’s OK to treat children in ways that adults would find offensive if directed toward them?
  
  

The New York Times has an interactive feature where you can go through and make the tough decisions on ways to eliminate the United States budget deficit. I just solved the problem. You can see the choices I made by clicking here.

Beyond armchair budgeting from folks like us, the Times also provides 16 experts with their opinions on ways to eliminate the deficit. Click here to read that article.

When you’re done, how about coming back here and sharing your thoughts about ways to eliminate the deficit (or if you’re someone who doesn’t think it needs to be eliminated, educate the rest of us on why you feel that way).

Image courtesy of FlickrCC/bgblogging

It’s now been two weeks since the midterm elections, and I’m noticing that many folks I know are depressed — not consciously about the elections, which have receded somewhat from view, but about various things in their lives. One is exhausted from all the pressures in her life, raising children, caring for parents, working too hard or too aimlessly; another is undecided about what to do next in life, not sure how to chart a meaningful path. Everyone has his or her personal story.

But behind all the personal stories and giving unity to the feeling of despair are the elections — not because of the specific legislative consequences of the Republican victory but because of what it means for the state of whether “we can” or “we can’t,” or of whether “we” exist at all.

Elections evoke a great deal of passion even though their direct practical consequences for our lives are often minimal, even nonexistent. A huge struggle takes place culminating on election day, but what is the struggle really about? My own practical life — the details of my everyday physical existence — is almost completely unaffected by the outcome. I have the same work, the same family, the same friends, no matter what the outcome. So why all the brouhaha? Something huge appears to be at stake? But what?

The answer is that elections are crystallizations of the emotional field. Like the “declare” in high-low poker, the election is a moment when we tell each other whether we will or will not extend ourselves to each other, whether we believe in our connection and dare hope to realize it in community enough to declare it, or whether we do not and dare not.

I had the opportunity the other night to present Seminary of the Street and our West Oakland Reconciliation and Social Healing Project to a local West Oakland Neighborhood Crime Prevention Council (NCPC). It didn’t go particularly well, and it’s taken me a long time to figure out exactly why and what I could have done differently.

I realize now that the whole framework of crime prevention as it is currently conceived is a framework of preserving and protecting me and mine—my life, my family, my house, my stuff, and in the best instances, my community, understood as the people I know and care about in the neighborhood. The good guys. There’s nothing surprising or unusual about this goal. It’s the predominant goal toward which we are taught in this culture to orient our lives.

But it’s very different from the goal of “loving God with all your heart and all your soul and all your strength and loving your neighbor as yourself.”

LGBT ally Kristen Chenoweth (photo by chris.ptacek)

When I was a kid, “Getting to Know You” was one of my favorite songs from the musical, “The King and I.” Now it’s a strategy for tolerance and healing.

Both academic research and personal experience have suggested for years that heterosexual people who know LGBT people are more likely to be comfortable with us, and even if they have religious inclinations toward homophobia, those inclinations may be at least somewhat tempered. Now there’s a new book out by sociologist Robert Putnam, American Grace, which finds the same thing to be true with people of different religions (to a moderate extent).