Well Done MIT

This week saw America at its best and worst. On the one hand, MIT Boston have developed a windup laptop that can be sold for under $100. Their plan is to sell them to underdeveloped countries in Africa. Now clearly there are lots of other problems that need to be sorted first but surely this is a great project and a great example of giving no strings attached that could make a real difference on the ground. But one the other hand, at UN talks the US has fought to remain in complete control of the internet and not hand it over to the UN.

One saw the principles of democracy at their best and America using her power for the good of others, while the other saw the ugly side of America being the biggest kid on the block and hogging all the toys to herself.

Dead Poets Society

I have been struck by three poems in the last week. The first comes from an Afghani women which cost her her life.

There is no desire in me to open
my mouth to sing
Whether I sing or I do not sing,
I am condemned to be hated

What should I say about sweet
things when I have bitterness
in my mouth?
What should I say about this cruel
blow to my mouth

I am caged in this corner, full of
melancholy and sorrow,
Thinking that I was born for no
purpose and must keep my lips sealed

I know that it is spring and a time
to rejoice
But my wings are closed and I
cannot fly

I dream of the day when I open my cage,
When I put my head out and sing a Ghazal with joy

I am not weak like a willow that
shakes in a breeze
I am an Afghan woman and
must wail

Nadia Anjuman, Dark Flower

Nadia Anjuman was beaten to death in Herat Afghanistan for writing poetry. These few lines formed part of her book Dark Flower, written under the shadow of the Taliban. She joins the Society of Poets who had the courage to say it how it is and dare to imagine a different world.

The next comes from Walt Whitman from the Leaves of Grass

After the seas are all cross'd, (as they seem already
cross'd,)
After the great captains and engineers have accomplished'd
their work,
After the noble inventors, after the scientists, the chemist,
the geologist, ethnologist,
Finally shall come the poet worthy of that name,
The true son of God shall come singing his songs.

The last comes from a poet imagining in Babylon, announcing comfort to Israel.

Comfort, Comfort my people, says your GOd.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and proclaim to her
that her hard service has been completed,
that her sin has been paid for,
that she has received form the Lord's hand
double for all her sins.

I wonder if our calling is to be poets - to dare to tell the truth, to imagine differently. I like to think of Jesus like Robin Williams' teacher in Dead Poets Society, gathering a band of walf wits to him and imagining and living the world into newness. Prophet and poet don't seem that far apart - both have no power, both are murdered, but their words beguile long after their death.

Called to be .... Odd

The community began the first time, and each time, because God takes an initiative and gathers folk together for oddness. God gathers together folks like us, rich and poor, liberal and conservative, willing and reluctant, slave and free, and bids all sign on for odd songs and hard commands. In that way a community is formed like none other in the world. There is nothing here of arrogance or virtue or merit, nothing here of despising outsiders or congratulaing insiders. There is only assurance that to be odd in the world is God’s intention for this people. And now this weak, exilic community must decide what to do with its oddness. Walter Brueggemann

Let us not hide our oddness under a bushel, under professional music and multicoloured matching shirts. Let's not worry about the quality of our advertising and strategic five year plans. Let us not strive to look credible and relevant. But let us celebrate our odd ones. Those who love collecting the imprints of postcards, those who wear trousers not quite long enough. Those who love electronics and sound systems. Those who enjoy horse racing and the antique roadshow. Perhaps even those who wear flip flops more than they should...

By their oddness and love shall you know them.