In the Name of Love!

I can't help it:) The topics are different (check the lyrics, below the vid) but ya gotta admit, Obama, in the Name of Love! Get up and dance! Wave your arms, shout with joy!



History note: Martin Luther King was assassinated on April 4 in Memphis, Tennessee.

GET UP AND DANCE! THIS IS A DAY OF HISTORY, CELEBRATE!

One man come in the name of love
One man come and go
One come he to justify
One man to overthrow

In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love

One man caught on a barbed wire fence
One man he resist
One man washed on an empty beach.
One man betrayed with a kiss

In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love

(nobody like you...)

Early morning, April 4
Shot rings out in the Memphis sky
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride

In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love...

Hold On! Keep Your Eyes on the Prize, Hold On!

Amid the messy refuse of the Democratic primaries, a white woman v. a black man, it isn't the way it was. It is the way it is (apologies to Bruce Hornsby).

Barak Obama will rise to be the candidate, that is now certain; the first black candidate for U.S. president.

As a nation, we should be very proud. But there are many barriers still to cross and many dangers ahead. This rise of a brilliant black man does not change the recent Katrina debacle in terms of the treatment of the poor, the black or otherwise marginalized communities ignored by the federal government during that crisis (not to mention the animals) and likely many crisis to come. It is important that we remember that our government is all of us, not some of us, and while the marginalized remain so, we HAVE to change that.

Against this very positive current political backdrop, please watch this amazing 1962-1964(?) video set against the absolutely incredible music of Mavis Staples. It is extremely painful to watch, and for me very painful to watch as a Christian, but we need to remember. We must always remember. And we need to remember that now, there is a different target: gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgender persons. GLBT persons are the subject of brutal and unconstitutional violations at every turn, though created perfect by God.

It is no wonder some can turn away from God given the evil references and actions attributed to those who are considered church leaders against Gods creation.

The younger generation is fulfilling my greatest hopes. While we talked about equality and legislated it, the generation now is living it. They are doing what Christ suggested needed to be our path, whether they agree with that calling or not. I am very proud of them. They are doing what we tried to do.

As humans, and as Christians, our duty is to assure equal treatment under God for all... not some. Watch this:



Lyrics to Keep Your Eyes on the Prize:

Paul and Silas, bound in jail
Had no money for to go their bail
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on
Hold on, (hold on), hold on, (hold on)
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!
Hold on, (hold on), hold on, (hold on)
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!

Paul and Silas began to shout
Doors popped open, and they walked out
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on
Hold on, (hold on), hold on, (hold on)
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!

Well, the only chains that we can stand
Are the chains of hand in hand
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on
Got my hand on the freedom plow
Wouldn't take nothing for my journey now
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!

Hold on, (hold on), hold on, (hold on)
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!
Hold on, (hold on), hold on, (hold on)
Keep your Eyes on the Prize, hold on!
Hold on, (hold on), hold on, (hold on)
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!
Hold on, (hold on), hold on, (hold on)
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!
....

Singing With My Own Voice

While listening today to an older Joan Baez album, a flood of memories returned about that period in my life. It is, indeed, a rather sad note that little has really changed, but the herd of humanity holds on tightly to its collective superiority.

Joan's beautiful and haunting rendition of Phil Och's tune There But for Fortune is my first remembrance of this remarkable woman's talents. At this time in my life, 11 years old, I would run home from school to read Life magazine's pictorial stories of the day (which I had been doing for many years), then sit down with my first guitar trying to make sense of the words of Baez's songs in light of the political and social background of the muddied world. Over and over I would play this song, learning the picking style, and discerning the significance of vocal and musical dynamic against lyrical content. Even at 11 years old, the meaning of the song was hardly lost on me, and this is incredibly beautiful:

Show me the prison, show me the jail
Show me the prisoner whose life has gone stale
And I'll show you (a) young man with so many reasons why
There but for fortune go you or I.

Show me the alley, show me the train
Show me the hobo who sleeps out in the rain
And I'll show you (a) young man with so many reasons why
There but for fortune go you or I.

Show me the whiskey stains on the floor
Show me the drunkard as he stumbles out the door
And I'll show you young man with so many reasons why
There but for fortune go you or I.

Show me the country where the bombs had to fall
Show me the ruins of the buildings once so tall
And I'll show you (a) young land with so many reasons why

There but for fortune go you and I, you and I.

Raised in a white, upper middle class community (though we were actually pretty poor) with plenty of John Birch Society members, the only meaningful notion of unrest came from watching television news and reading The Los Angeles Times, something I did daily while consuming a sugary breakfast of Tricks (as in "are for kids"). The news was violently uneasy against my background, but it was clear that where I lived was not the norm and that the perverse defense of the status quo was wrong.

I was probably the only child from a divorced family in the entire school and a latch-key kid at that. For most of my young life, I really suffered from lack of family, an only child. Now, I realize that it was this seeming social disparity that taught me to think for myself and am eternally grateful for that opportunity. I had to decide for myself what was wrong and right, and given the politics of the day (the Civil Rights Movement and JFK's assassination among them) there was plenty to think about.

Unless I was unusual, I can only believe that children have an innate sense of right and wrong, with or without religious and/or socio-political indoctrination. I had almost no religious exposure, while having been baptized as an Episcopalian, except I remember well seeing, for the first time, a man nailed to a wooden cross obviously suffering and was absolutely distraught and so emotionally distressed I remember fleeing the Lutheran Sunday school class that I attended ever so briefly. I cannot remember exactly, but I think I never returned. I didn't understand it and didn't want to. To see anything so suffering was almost physically painful for me and emotionally haunting, and still is though I am a devout Episcopalian.

When my mother was home in the early 60's, and against the background of news of Dr. Martin Luther King, I was blasted with horrible messages of hatred for him, the black community, and JFK. My mom was not a John Bircher, but she was hateful and was, and is, an uberconservative and an uneducated one, at that. That was evident even as a child and I lost all respect for her at an early age on this account. Whether it was the alcohol or just her apparent hatred of difference, I do not know. That I became what she so despised is probably best left to psychologists to analyze. It really doesn't interest me.

So, there I was, 11 years old, already just another black sheep. I had been looking for my own voice for many years.