
Borders have their uses.
They tidy-up the scene,
remind us where we are,
and where we have not been.
They assign us each a plot
of able responsibility,
and call us to fulfill our task,
to act responsibly, as we ought.
Like naturalists we name each plot
to recognize ourselves within its place.
We mark paths between each plot,
a no-man’s land of sea and space.
Borders are a mere tool to use.
They can create more civility.
Or, they can abuse all gentility.
We can move across borders easily.
They were not made to stop humanity
from going where it needs to go
to find food and shelter, water and safety.
There is the rub in such a construction.
It can also lead to self-destruction.
For we are all part of the same family
of men and women descended
from a single source evolving merrily.
Until, each one of us is forced to face
the human weakness that lies within
and threatens our dreams of what we could win
if only we were better than we are.
If we were better, we could reach the stars.
Such anger we cannot allow directed at self.
We look for somewhere to place it,
when it should be put on a shelf,
placed where it can do no harm
and give us time to calm our alarm
that we are far from perfect, but still okay.
Our personal borders help us hold our evil at bay.
Instead, we project all the fear and rage
from and toward ourselves to others,
other humans being human, idiot or sage.
We carefully choose a human target
who does not quite look like us;
and not because he is truly different at all.
But in mirrored reflection of our follies
his appearance creates a place we can hide
that we are truly the same person, inside.
It would never do to project our own failings
onto another who looked just like we look.
It would prove the foolishness of railing
against all who look the same-self ailing.
So, we choose to note a difference
to justify our disdain and discrimination.
We close our borders with determination.
We miss the prize right before our eyes.
We miss the chance to accept our need
for the strength that comes with community.
We forget, for as long as we can,
that differences reinforce each man
and help us each overcome our weakness,
our circular thinking, our useless imagination
and build a stronger human-kind nation
within every border, across every border
until we kind humans no longer fear
our very selves, nor one another.
We could act as sister and brother
and settle our squabbles with love
as part of a human family.
We could project amity
and, perhaps, save humanity.









CONFIRMATION SLAP
There was one day each year our Catholic parish could expect the Bishop to visit. Every year the children in the fourth grade, age 10 or so, made their Confirmation of Faith. We studied the tenets of our faith so we would understand more fully what it would mean to be confirmed. This was critical because the one thing that sank in was the idea that we would not only promise to live our faith, fully and with integrity; we would pledge to be willing to die for our faith, as many of the Catholic saints had done over the centuries. In fact, we chose a name for ourselves of a saint who inspired us to live our faith as fully as they. I chose Bernadette, a young girl unable to be shaken from her spiritual experiences, despite opposition even from church leaders. She was open to the unexpected, unexplainable mysteries of her faith; courageous and persistent, resilient and humble. She could face down any opposition to live her faith experience.
We had learned through study and life experience that others opposed our beliefs, and especially, our assumed authority to represent Jesus Christ’s teaching . We saw our priests, and even ourselves, as part of the line of succession from Peter the Apostle. A lot of wrongdoing and audacity occurred in between Peter’s time and mine. We were taught to acknowledge errors, correct them and move on. A daily examination of conscience and frequent confession kept us on track.
As a very short child, I led the procession into church. The Bishop asked us a few questions ascertaining that we understood what we were about to promise. I was the first to be confirmed, kneeling at the altar rail, shaking like a leaf, praying for courage. The Bishop spoke the words reminding me that my faith required a willingness to die for Christ. I responded that I would. The Bishop then struck my cheek with a blow so hard those in the back pews could hear the slap, my head snapping to the side. The Bishop looked horrified. I could feel the sting of his hand. I was reminded alright!
After the service ended, we processed from our pews to the rear of the church, the Bishop and altar servers before us. The Bishop waited for me at the door and joined my parents and family as we stood on the church steps. His handprint was still visible on my cheek. He humbly apologized to me and to my parents. Since I was the first child he had underestimated the strength of his blow, and was mortified. I had never expected to see a mortified bishop. It made my heart open to him as human being, no longer an authority figure. Those moments of my confirmation remain with me, 67 years later, as if they happened yesterday. Over the years I had need of the lessons learned that day.
I learned that faith is not a mind-game, nor a mere consideration. It is a calling to act with integrity, love and compassion. It requires the willingness to suffer for others; to learn them, see them, hear them even when I had to “suffer through” them. I suffered through those I did not like nor respect, as well as those I respected and loved. I learned that those in authority held no power over me unless I gave it to them. I could have withheld respect and forgiveness to a bishop who hit me so hard it hurt. I chose to forgive him and accept his unintended harm. However, I never shirk from showing those in authority the harm they do. It is probably one reason I became a lawyer. I experienced justice that day. Too many in our America do not. It is those we must be willing to die for. Our faith requires it.
I listened to two Catholics, Senator Bernie Moreno from my state of Ohio and Vice-President J.D. Vance defend and protect the President Trump’s unlawful war, threats of genocide, and destructive blasphemy the past few days. They were confirmed. Do they not recall their vow to defend and protect our faith and our church as they attack our Pope? Do they not understand integrity and morality? What did they promise as they affirmed their Catholicism when confirmed? I am not truly surprised because they also seem to have forgotten their vow to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States and Ohio, and the laws of both when they sworn into office as senators and then, Vance, as Vice-President.
These are not men of conviction willing to suffer for their faith. They are not humble. They lack integrity. They lie. They attack when they should defend… not just the Pope but human beings in Gaza, Iran, Minneapolis, and every city and hamlet in America. They attack instead of defend our people of color, LGBQT and transgender citizens, our women and children, our elderly and disabled, our working poor, our refugees and immigrants. They would suppress votes of students, women, the working poor, the elderly and disabled and brazenly support the provisions in the SAVE act suppressing our votes. All the while they pretend to protect us and our vote. They stay silent while our military is used to perform war crimes, and while our country’s leaders threaten to annihilate others in violation of the Geneva Convention and human rights.
The attack on a Catholic Pope is just part of the plan to replace loving faith and care for others preached by Jesus Christ on his Sermon on the Mount with power and control over others fed by greed and arrogance. It was easy to abuse the weakest among us. Now, they openly abuse a powerful church leader preaching Jesus Christ’s teachings. Of course, Trump posted an AI construction of himself as Jesus Christ. Of course Vance and Moreno, and other republicans think it is meaningless, a joke. The explanation is as great a lie. It has meaning. It is meant to promote abuse and control at the expense of others. These men were not slapped hard enough when they were confirmed as Catholics. They are not willing to suffer any political nor financial loss to help others. As a Catholic, I hold them accountable and ask them to recall their vows; to their church and to the American people.
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