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On Hospitality

This column is online at Questformeaning.org, a ministry of the Church of the Larger Fellowship.

Dear PeaceBang,

I know that there are certain biases I have which keep me from being welcoming to everyone.   For instance, I don’t like people who prostelytize me.  But is that really a problem?  Isn’t being unwelcoming to them actually a mark of spiritual health?

Dear Biased,

Yea, it’s a problem. It’s a problem whenever we harden our hearts against any category of people because of their irritating behavior, or when we deride spiritual practices because they might make us feel personally awkward or uncomfortable.  I hear you asking me not only for permission to not welcome those people in your heart, but to applaud your rejection as a sign of spiritual well-being. Sorry, no cigar. Being open-minded and generous-hearted is at the core of our faith, and it’s not easy or comfortable. It requires us to genuinely appreciate diversity not only as a hypothetical, but as a lived and challenging reality.

When you’re out and about doing your thing and you meet someone who starts trying to save your soul, you’re completely within your rights to walk away. You’re not obliged to engage. You could say something like, “Thanks for your concern, but I have certain faith that my immortal soul is in the hands of a loving God (or benevolent Universe)” and move on.  Unless someone is proselytizing in a way that is abusive of you or the community and needs to be challenged, accept that they’re simply trying to share their good news with you, and respond politely. Remember that your response is just as much an expression of your faith as is their proselytizing.

I once saw a UU man at a General Assembly accept a pamphlet from a totally respectful Christian street evangelist, wave it over his head and say, “I got JEEEEZUS!” and then throw the pamphlet on the ground with a derisive snort. I consider his behavior a form of spiritual violence.

Since our theme in this column is hospitality, let’s define what we mean when we use that term. Hospitality isn’t about merely opening the door and saying, “You may come in, I permit you.” Our religious tradition calls us to something more mature and deeper than that. The moral virtue of hospitality asks that we provide food, drink and shelter to the stranger, even at a sacrifice to us and our kin.  In my family we had the expression “FHB,” which meant, “Family hold back” when someone stopped by unexpectedly for dinner. The idea was that you put less on your plate with an eye for making sure the guest got well fed. It is an ethic of deep generosity, and one that is practiced by many cultures the world over.

We are such individualists these days, and so accustomed to consider our comfort to be of paramount importance that we forget that community only works when we are willing to extend ourselves beyond the comfort zone, and to be present to people as they are. In the case of the proselyte, we must understand that winning converts is a religious imperative in many religious traditions and they’re just engaging in their spiritual practice when they witness to us. There is no need to take it as a personal insult, and there is no need to get angry and defensive while standing in our own truth. At best, we can guide the conversation to a place where we can find common ground.

If this little script is helpful to you, I hope you’ll use it:

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The Fetuses Are All Grown Up

If the Occupy protesters are “just kids with nothing else to do,” I would like to thank them for doing what millions of people would LIKE to be able to do, but whose work schedule doesn’t allow for. Like the 20-something Wal-Mart employee I chatted with last night who had a 14 hour day yesterday and who has a 12 hour day today. When I said, “Oh my God, girl, how are you supposed to get anything done for your life?” She said, “WHAT life?” We laughed maniacally and I said, “You’re going to lose it.” She responded, “No, I’m trying to FIND it, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

We laughed raucously again, and I told her to engage in some small form of rebellion, like riding the electric carts around the store at closing (she said that employees weren’t allowed to ride them). I left the store with my cheap crap from China, and a few prescriptions.

A few minutes later I drove through the McDonald’s window (don’t judge, it was just a very all-American night) and another 20-something was there to serve my consumer needs. He had run out of pennies and said, “Do you mind if I steal a penny from you?”

I said, “OH SURE, this is how McDonald’s makes a few extra billion dollars a year!” And he said, “I know, right?” He showed me the nametag on his uniform. “See this? Check it out, it’s so [expletive] flimsy. You think they could spend the extra thirty cents to get a decent nametag.”

This was a new one on me, as I have never considered the relative flimsiness of nametags I have worn in various jobs, but I said, “Yea, well, they need to save money so that their CEO’s can make, like, 4,000 times what you make to work for them.”  “Yea, RIGHT?” he said.

This transcript does not reflect this kid’s sharpness. He was very edgy and funny. This came through even in this brief encounter through a drive-in window.  So I said, “Occupy! Do you know about this Occupy Wall Street thing that’s going on in Boston?”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “Yes, I do.” Little bit of a righteous edge in his voice.

“Well, you should GO!” I said. “Go in!”

“I really should,” he said.

“Wear your McDonald’s uniform and GO!” I said! And we both laughed raucously and I pulled out to pick up my Diet Coke from a nice young lady at the next window.

These kids were born at the height of the rise of the religious right in this country. It occurs to me that if every anti-choice zealot who was picketing abortion clinics back then really cared about babies, children and choosing LIFE, and had starting working toward a society and legislation that actually supported LIFE, then these 20-somethings would have a whole hell of a lot better quality of LIFE right now.

The government cared more about them when they were fetuses. It’s the damned truth.

 

UPI/Matthew Healey | License Photo

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The Demanding Tree

Today, the Rev. Thomas Schade of Worcester gave a shout-out to two of his parishioners for creating a re-telling of Shel Silverstein’s classic tale of a masochistic co-dependent relationship, The Giving Tree. I once loved The Giving Tree myself, until I came into a feminist awareness that revealed to me that this was the ultimate sentimental re-imagining of how patriarchy really works to dominate and amputate female power and presence (including Mother Nature’s power).

In 2000, I re-wrote The Giving Tree and my version has subsequently been used by Unitarian Universalist congregations all over the country: at least 34 by my count, as that was the last time I counted the requests by colleagues to use it in their worship services. And so my friends, I give you, “The Demanding Tree,” by Victoria Weinstein.Please share with attribution.*

*Amazing illustrations for “The Demanding Tree” were created by Jessica Alexander at the time, and I hope to be able to find and scan them soon.

 

The Demanding Tree , by the Rev. Dr. Victoria Weinstein, April 2000

(revised January 2003)

With apologies to Shel Silverstein…

Once there was a tree.  And she loved a little boy.

And every day the boy would come, and he would gather her leaves

and make them into crowns and play king of the forest.

And the tree loved the little boy, but the tree was a bit irritated.  “King of the forest, my trunk,” she thought. “Wherever did those human beings get such an attitude problem?”

Time went by, and the boy grew older, and the tree was often alone, which was nice and quiet, but she missed the boy.

Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree called out to him, “Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat my apples and play in my shade and be happy.”

“I am too big to climb and play,” said the boy.  I want to buy things and have fun.  I want some money.  Can you give me some money?”

“No chance,” said the tree.  “I have only leaves and apples.  Why don’t you go get a job if money’s so important to you? I hear that the Nature Conservancy is looking for clerical staff.  Why don’t you apply?”

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