The Green-Eyed Monster: Fight, Flee, or Find Freedom?

Struggling with work related or sibling or Twitter rivalry? It’s often about envy or jealousy—“the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on” (Shakespeare’s Othello). If you’ve ever been the target of envy-driven accusations or machinations, I have some survived-it thoughts to share.  

Sages through the ages have warned about Shakespeare’s monster, pondered its genesis. Milton in Paradise Lost credits “The infernal serpent; he it was, whose guile stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived the mother of mankind.” Solomon said envy “rots the bones” (Proverbs 14:30). James (New Testament) linked “bitter envy” and “selfish ambition,” noting they are “unspiritual, demonic,” leading to “disorder and every evil practice.” 

If you don’t buy the concept of sin (envy, per Roman Catholic theology, is a cardinal or capital sin along with pride, greed, lust, anger, gluttony, and laziness), philosophers, essayists, and psychologists have also described the toxic, binding nature of envy: 

Ivan Illich declared: “In a consumer society there are inevitably two kinds of slaves: the prisoners of addictions and the prisoners of envy.” 

Doris Lessing detailed envy as a “poisonous circle of hate, excluding everything but itself, ascribing merit only to itself” while reflecting in African Laughter on those who execute “the revenge of the second-rate” on first-rate writers. 

Mental health gurus cite envy as a destructive emotion that can generate depression and anxiety. They link envy to underlying hurt and insecurity. The National Institute for the Clinical Application of Behavioral Medicine (nicabm.com) in the course “How to Ease Damaging Patterns of Jealousy and Envy” offers this insight: childhood wounds can generate envy though many are unaware of the connection between the two. 

I am enviably (!) free of childhood wounds but I continue to learn from those seeking healing from such and to honor all who embrace that rigorous journey. My wounds came later (mentioned elsewhere), generating the search for a salve and understanding of the wounders. A recent re-encounter with envy-related maliciousness, however, threatened my peace. How do we deal with this universal challenge? 

This is what I’ve learned: 

We can’t fight envy with logic/persuasion. “Envy is insatiable,” wrote C.S. Lewis: “The more you concede to it the more it will demand. No attitude of humility which you can possibly adopt will propitiate [one] with an inferiority complex.” 

Sometimes fleeing is the best response to envy. Life is short; we are to thrive! Seek different friends/colleagues, different work, where feasible. If struggling with envious siblings, create “family” among those unthreatened by your strengths and gifts. 

Finding freedom from envy is a worthy goal, and it cuts both ways. Deborah Tannen in You Were Always Mom’s Favorite instructs the envious: “If you feel small next to [someone], get bigger!” As for the envied, compassion for the hurts and insecurities that generate envy can ease the pain of being attacked…and quash the temptation to counter attack. 

Attackers appear mean and petty as they attempt to diminish others. I’ve noticed this among journalists on Twitter…so many competing for readers, attention, often picking at one another. Hooray for those who demonstrate both confidence and humility, who offer civil, supportable critiques rather than cheap, snide put downs. 

How can we as parents, mentors, or teachers help envy-proof our children? My suggestions: 

1. Affirm, nurture, and celebrate their unique gifts and strengths while partnering any weaknesses or struggles. 

2. Model gratitude for and contentment with what you have/who you are and encourage them to do the same. 

3. Limit their time on social media and counter messages promoting the lie that one’s worth is dependent on having more (things, beauty, friends, influence, recognition).     

I dedicate this post to my two sons who hope to be parents one day…

Where are the Peacemakers?

Troubles abound and I can’t put my head in the sand...but to preserve inner peace I (among other things) avoid talking heads biased left or right and read BBC and NPR news—both billed as “center” by AllSides Media Bias Ratings (allsides.com).  A few nights ago, however, my peace—and sleep—were threatened by the potential rupture of a valued relationship. My friend and I had agreed NOT to talk about politics...but then we did, and out came the differences that threaten to divide us.  But must they divide; should they divide?

A middle-of-the-night search for answers led me to a study by More in Common (MiC) (moreincommon.com), an international initiative “set up in 2017 to build communities and societies that are stronger, more united and more resilient to the increasing threats of polarization and social divisions.”  MiC’s research/report Hidden Tribes (hiddentribes.us) breaks Americans into seven groups, from left to right.  The most active groups are on the extremes—Progressive Activists on the left (8% of Americans) and Devoted Conservatives on the right (6%). Members of both tend to be white, wealthy, educated and very vocal.  

Roughly two-thirds of Americans fall into what the Hidden Tribes authors call “the exhausted majority.”  Exhausted by what?  The polarization, the mud-slinging.  We, the majority, agree with the need to do more listening and compromising.  Who will lead us?

Conservative political and cultural commentator David Brooks notes: "Unfortunately, people in the exhausted majority have no narrative...no coherent philosophic worldview to organize their thinking and compel action, [but] when they get one I suspect it will look totally unlike the two dominant narratives today.  These narratives are threat narratives.  But the people who make positive change usually focus on gifts, not deficits.  They tell stories about the assets we have and how we can use them together."

During a recent trip to Pennsylvania, I met poet and peacemaker Katrina Gehman.  I was inspired by her short, engaging video Cardinal Directions   https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Z2djOVlDcDM&list=PL7d7SIWC7wewD-Y6D7bIEN27ERybBC4s8&index=2

I sent Katrina info on More in Common and she responded with info on Braver Angels (braverangels.org), a diverse group of Americans “come together to answer back to those forces that would tear us apart through partisan cynicism and political tribalism.” Today I became a dues-paying member ($12 annual).  I want to be a peacemaker and my first task was to write this post and email the link to friends and family.

On taking a (low) risk with a stranger during the time of the virus

Having waited awhile in the Wells Fargo drive thru line for an appointment to update address per my recent move back to Pueblo, Colorado, I have 90 minutes before a noon opening with a banker.  Lured by the thought of a sausage and egg croissant at Dunkin' Donuts, I hit their drive thru and park at a hotel facing a frontage road just off I-25.  Windows down to catch the sun-warmed spring breeze, I savor my meal while watching passers-by: two youth on motorized scooters, an attractive young Latinx man with a backpack, and a tall, stooped woman who makes her way slowly from the hotel to a nearby bus stop bench.  She intrigues me, from her off-kilter brown wig fringing a navy ski jacket to her dark knee-length skirt, yellow anklets, and laced flat black shoes...a certain style in her dishevelment.

A green city bus sporting a sleek sign for Canna (marijuana--legal in Colorado where local dispensaries appear to be booming) soon arrives. The woman approaches the bus door; it opens briefly. The driver must have said no entry without a mask; the woman fumbles in her purse while the man with backpack, mask in place, stands the recommended six feet away.  After a few minutes the bus leaves would-be riders at the curb just as the woman dons her mask.  So much for their plans!  The two exchange a few words; the man, who had come from the north, proceeds south.  He’s young and strong and can walk a distance.  But what of the woman?  She may have medical needs. I watch her enter the automatic hotel doors through my rearview mirror, take the last sips of my coffee.  I should help her.

She sits in a lounge chair in the lobby, magazine in hand. “I’m a registered nurse; I saw you were not able to get on the bus and wonder if I could take you where you want or need to go.”  “Come a bit closer, I’m having a little trouble hearing you.”  Intelligence in her bespectacled brown eyes and calm, measured voice.  She displays no obvious signs of illness and she's not a sputterer who, were she presymptomatic for COVID-19 or an asymptomatic carrier, could potentially share the virus while talking. I follow local health department news: the Pueblo case count low, contact tracing* of the infected happening, wise protocols in place for the past few weeks. My time of concern after being with son Owen who could have been exposed to the virus while trucking around California is over.  Taking her in my car is a minimal risk for us both.  We exchange names.  A young woman with an encouraging smile (no mask) comes from behind the lobby desk--with its plastic shield--and stands a few feet away: “Thank you; she's been with us a long time.”  

“I was going to Walmart” says Margo (I've changed her name), rising, her open jacket exposing a grease-stained red turtleneck, “but it would be more interesting for you if we go to the art museum, wouldn't it?”  “I think it may be closed,” I say.  “I was just there a couple days ago,” she smiles. “We’ll give it a try, then.”

We drive to the museum (closed, but a friendly young man with bandana over his nose and mouth emerges to let us know some exhibits are available online) and then on to Walmart, all the while talking easily. She speaks of her life in Paris, New York City.  “I was born in the 1700s,” she says.  Hmm...delusion? dementia? maybe she believes in reincarnation? "What kind of work have you done, Margo?" "I published a magazine on politics and culture for awhile." Her father Dutch, we exchange some Dutch phrases and a little Spanish and French after she tells me she speaks five languages and I mention my years in Mexico, in Africa with Dutch volunteers, work in Haiti.  

“What brought you to Pueblo,” I ask. “Unfulfilled hope for an interesting place away from a big city." She bemoans lack of access to a computer and the New York Times since closure of Pueblo libraries. Later I google her name, learn more of her robust life (she is almost 90)...now confined by circumstances to Walmart outings and a small hotel room with TV, microwave, fridge; "It's quite crowded with all my books."

Parting at Walmart, she asks:  “Do you ever come by the hotel?”  “No, but I can.”  She smiles: “We could enjoy coffee or lunch together.”  “I'd like that, Margo."  Exiting the Walmart bathroom minutes later, I meet her driving a motorized cart.  She asks: "Can I buy you a small treat here?  It's a sausage tidbit."  "Thanks so much, but I must get to my appointment.  We'll meet again."  She smiles and nods.  

* Contact tracing (and accurate testing) essential to infection management, reducing fear, allowing economies to revive!

See https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2020/04/22/840232210/how-do-you-do-contact-tracing-poor-countries-have-plenty-of-advice

Two more excellent, important articles:

https://medium.com/the-atlantic/why-some-people-get-sicker-than-others-f64796b01486

https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20200421-will-we-ever-be-immune-to-covid-19

  

God's Samurai: Spiritual Lessons Learned in Japan

John's house at left

Late August 2019 my sons John (27) and Owen (28) and I sat at a table in John’s small home next to the Japanese Holiness Church where he’s an associate pastor, in the city of Sakado, near Tokyo.  Owen and I laid hands on John as I rose and prayed Ephesians 10:11: “Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.”

“I’m seeing a vision of myself clothed as a samurai,” said John.*  Joy!  Gratitude!  My tears flowed.  Just moments earlier John had been freed from two demons that had troubled him for years.

John’s journey to spiritual health was—like Owen’s (described in the July 2015 blogpost Treasure!)—arduous.  They shared commonplace sins of my youth (Psalm 25) and some spiritually dark generational influences still being discerned.  Both sons were, of course, troubled by the divorce of their parents; John’s living abroad (since 2013) made processing harder, plus his plate was full with language learning and work.  John was skeptical about the enemy’s role in the divorce; I discerned intellectual disdain as I had with my husband (see January 2019 blogpost Demonization and Healing).  And in spite of numerous open-hearted exchanges, something simmered and sometimes surfaced: my sense of being accused.  Relationships are complex; my intent is not to blame but to show how the enemy works.

Accusations are a hallmark of satanic influence.  Writers in both Old Testament (Zechariah) and New Testament (John, in Revelation) refer to Satan as an accuser.  Peter Horrobin, in Healing Through Deliverance, writes: “So what happens in the demonic realm if we start criticizing and judging people instead of accepting them?…we open ourselves up to doing the enemy’s work of being an accuser…our cooperation with the enemy invites a demon to overlay our personalities with its particular characteristics and job function.”  Horrobin is quick to point out that the presence of a demon is not an excuse for sin; we have free will.  “But,” he notes, “it will be a struggle to be set free without real repentance and deliverance.”

John at his church

How can I help John? I wondered.  His call and commitment to Japan had inspired many, his gifts honored by both teachers and peers.  My sense of urgency grew as his plans to marry Makiba, a lovely Japanese woman, solidified; “It will likely happen this year,” he told me in February.  “I’ll be coming!” I said.  Two months later, during a time of worship, God called me to spend extended time in Japan.  I’ve never heard the audible voice of God, as did Moses on the mountain or Paul on the road to Damascus, but I know when he speaks to me.  “My sheep hear my voice,” said Jesus, “and I know them, and they follow me.”

Following is not always easy; obstacles strewed my path: questions about my motivations (from John; indirectly from his father), life distractions, spiritual fatigue and discouragement.  But finally, with John’s warm welcome, I flew to Japan seven weeks prior to his wedding date of August 31…eager to see his work, meet Makiba’s family (she’d visited us in Mexico a year and a half earlier), learn a little Japanese, and help folks at John’s church with English—an offer he’d endorsed: “Most members who want to improve their English are your age, Mom.”

The early days were tough!  Grateful for John’s willingness to have me in his home, I tried to honor his routines, etc.  But two strong personalities now lived in close quarters!  In spite of my efforts at cultural appropriateness, John found fault with things I did—from how I placed my shoes outside the living area to the the ways I addressed others, and even leaving a shopping cart briefly unattended in a grocery store.  Argh!  “John is more Japanese than the Japanese,” quipped John’s close friend with whom I joked about this.  I discerned bondage to cultural mores; the expectation of perfection in Japan is entrenched and it can wound.  Within a week of arrival, sensing heavy spiritual oppression, I thought I can’t stay in this house!

Recognizing Satan’s effort to remove me (!), I asked for prayer support from Owen, who said: “Trust what God shows you, Mom.”  John and I forged ahead, tackled our conflicts, and laughed at how similarly stubborn we are.  But when I suggested we pray together, he said matter-of-factly: “I haven’t been praying lately in the traditional sense of the word.”  Hmm.  He reflected briefly, recognized something was amiss spiritually.  He was taking daily doses of online classes with Jordan Peterson; I listened in sometimes.  “Peterson is wise in many ways, but should not replace your communion with the Lord,” I cautioned.  

At Yokohama Baptist Church with friend Yuki

A number of John’s parishioners and friends opened their hearts and homes to me; they praised John’s language fluency and commitment to Japan.  I felt parental pride, and longed even more for John’s freedom and strengthening of spirit!  Two dear women began praying for me and for John (these treasured friendships continue by email).  When Owen arrived ten days before the wedding, we were buoyed by one another’s faith that John’s deliverance was at hand!  I went to Yokohama for awhile to give them time together.  When I returned the spiritual battle intensified.  Owen and I prayed and pressed forward: “This needs to be dealt with prior to your marriage, John!”  Three days before the wedding John said courageously: “Let’s do this now.”

With friend Marina at Sakado bus station

Deliverance work is best done in pairs—by believers who’ve asked the Lord to search their own hearts, who are humbly dependent on God, gentle in helping seekers identify unconfessed sin and/or unhealed wounds, and confident in commanding demons in the name of Jesus to disclose their job function and to leave when they have no grounds to stay.  John notes the relevance of “identifying past sins and their root motivations,” adding: “Prior to deliverance, I couldn’t have imagined some of the ways in which my past decisions had been negatively affecting my attitude and behavior.” 

Seeking healing for ourselves and helping one another is part of maturing in Christ.  Satan keeps us from this aspect of discipleship through fear and lack of knowledge; my own prayer a couple decades ago was God, please don’t call me to such work!  But he did call me, and he may call you!  See resource links in my previous post and/or feel free to contact me at jan.engle.lewis@gmail.com.  Meanwhile let’s persevere in prayer for those in the household of faith struggling with spiritual oppression, love them, and not take offense when accused, remembering as did David in Psalm 69: “The Lord…does not despise his own that are in bonds.”

The samurai of old waited on a person of rank and were trained in military tactics and strategy, an apt image for followers of the way of Christ.  Paul wrote: “For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does.  The weapons we fight with [—the word of God, petitioning prayer in the Spirit, persevering alertness, per Ephesians 6] are not the weapons of the world.  On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.  We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (II Corinthians 10:3-5, NIV)

*John’s vision included a white tiger next to the samurai, facing the same direction; he came to see the tiger as representing his soon-to-be wife: “The point of the vision, I think, is that God has called me and Makiba to serve the Lord in a way that makes use of the good already present in Japanese culture.”

Demonization and Healing: Lessons from Life

Like many who come to understand the ways of demons, my early inclination was to avoid an issue that made me very uncomfortable.  When it became unavoidable—a university classmate in Ohio, a student in Africa, a fellow congregant in Colorado, all troubled by something that clearly was not mental illness (my area of expertise since 1976)—the clergy I consulted were as ignorant as I and unable to give effective aid.  What forced me to study and learn about demonization was my son Owen’s need for help (detailed in the July 2015 blogpost Treasure).  My efforts on his behalf, in large part, cost me my marriage.  

My husband’s take on demons was/is typical of the majority of Christians in the West, where a rationalistic, scientific worldview—ushered in by the eighteenth-century Enlightenment—assumes no reality beyond the natural, material universe.  Influential Bible commentator William Barclay suggested that people who believe themselves troubled by demons are delusional and that they are cured simply through the power of suggestion.*  I’ve learned that those of us who think otherwise can expect skepticism, scoffing, and worse; as I took steps to address Owen’s spiritual needs, my husband said: “You’re insane; you’ll do irreparable damage to our son!”  I had read enough to know that demons mock, accuse, and try to intimidate when the ground they have been holding is threatened, but I was stunned when—a week later—the kind, reasonable man I had loved for three decades (and still do), his eyes full of hate, snarled at me: “You are evil, poison.”  That was not my husband speaking.  Two weeks earlier he'd said:  "Do you think one day we'll laugh about all this?"  I await that day with faith and hope, because the more I learn of demons, and how to stand against them in the name and power of Jesus Christ, the more I laugh at their bluster, knowing Christ has the upper hand...that He rules in the midst of His foes.

In spite of opposition, Owen and I pursued and have received the healing and deliverance he needed.  The journey has been arduous, but such joy in the outcome!  In speaking up on the issue, I count myself among thousands indebted to two couples who took on this challenging work several decades ago:  Francis and Judith MacNutt and Peter and Fiona Horrobin.  The MacNutts are based in the US (https://www.christianhealingmin.org) and the Horrobins in England (https://ellel.org), but their efforts extend around the world through books, conferences, and the testimonies of those (including many clergy) healed and freed from demonization. 

An Inbox message the day after Christmas proclaimed: “When we help even one person heal from trauma we can change the world!…because it doesn’t stop there…that healing often ripples though [the person’s] family, friends, and community as well.”  This, from The National Institute for the Clinical Application of Behavioral Medicine (https://www.nicabm.com), echoes a conviction that has grown in me over the past four years—that those in our own circle who have long struggled with unhealed wounds, and some possibly with demonization, can find healing and deliverance.

Some "inner critics" are real rather than imaginary!

What does demonization have to do with healing?  The MacNutts/Horrobins note that 75-90% of demonization is linked to trauma and wounding.  Demons can block healing by nudging traumatized persons to feel shame, rejection, to blame themselves, to hold in secret what needs to be brought to light.  They can be the accusing voices inside the head:  “Because of _______, you’re no good.”  Wounded persons who are demonized (psychotherapist Judith MacNutt found this was about a third of her clients) often have a sense of heaviness or oppression that does not get better with traditional psychiatric interventions.  Some self medicate with alcohol/drugs, or they despair and commit suicide.  Others suppress their pain and find a false, pseudo-healing in a form of Christianity that denies both the power of Satan to hold them in bondage and the power of God to free them.  Living a lie inhibits open-hearted relationships with partners, children, and others (psychiatrist M. Scott Peck illustrates this in People of the Lie).  The wounded—especially if demonized—often wound those closest to them.  The Enemy can easily divide and even destroy "Christian" marriages and families where there is unhealed pain and shame by promoting blame and/or stonewalling--a refusal to talk about hurts and misunderstandings.

The day after Christmas, Owen and I were talking of family wounds and healing while drinking coffee and munching toffee when we heard someone calling “Owen” at our gate.  It was a man who had recently shared personal struggles with Owen; “Come visit anytime, if you want to talk more,” offered Owen.  So here he was—his bicycle wheels thick with mud from a Christmas rain.

“This place feels so peaceful,” he said, taking a seat at our table.  He sipped coffee while I—knowing of his drug relapse, return to rehab, broken relationships—spoke briefly about our own journey and desire to help others in need of healing.

“Other Christians seem to be happy in their lives, to not need help,” said he, a believer and church-goer for years, his eyes full of pain.

“Many people need help, but don’t feel free to say so,” I said. “Often the pain they carry is deep and there is shame and fear of judgment—especially if they have experienced something like sexual abuse.”  Then, as Owen shared his own story of abuse, the man began to weep.  We paused, offered tissues, water, a comforting hand on the shoulder.  

“The same thing happened to me,” he said.  He had never spoken of it to anyone.  Now forty, he’s been struggling for years to forgive the one who harmed him at age nine—an older cousin.

Healing for our friend will be a process...if and when he is willing to pursue it.  There is rarely a quick fix, but we can walk alongside him confident that God desires to heal the brokenhearted and to free those bound by shame and/or unconfessed wrongs and/or an inability to forgive.  Confession and forgiveness are the first steps in healing; many have attested to a lightening of spirit afterwards, as demons who may have been present often leave when these steps are taken.  The healing of deep and/or multiple wounds may take considerable time; Fiona Horrobin offers practical, comforting guidance in her book Intercession & Healing: Breaking Through with God.

This is a complex topic, and as a psychiatric nurse specialist, I want to promote a balanced and discerning approach to it!  Owen and I are willing to share more detail of his/our journey, answer questions, and/or suggest other resources.  Feel free to email me at jan.engle.lewis@gmail.com and/or Owen at owen.edward.lewis@gmail.com.  

*Others—from preliterate tribal groups to sophisticated cultures like Japan—have long been aware of the work of demons.  Those of these cultures who come to faith in Christ, but still struggle with demonic forces, often return to traditional healers (witch doctors, curanderos) because Christian clergy are unable to help them (examples in Chapter 3 of F. MacNutt’s Deliverance from Evil Spirits: A Practical Manual).

Gandhi, Goa, and Gratitude

purchased in Margao, Goa

India has been drawing me for decades…

—the contrasts: opulent riches/grinding poverty, sweltering plains/frigid Himalayas, lush wilderness/polluted cities

—the colors: who else combines them so enticingly in fashion, in food?

—the dramatic, rich history of the subcontinent

Anna in Bengal (other photos prove
she did not have a beard!)

My step-great-grandma Anna spent her 20s in Bengal in the early 1900s—the middle years of the independence movement (Gandhi soon to return to India) and the latter years of the Bengali renaissance (Tagore soon to become Asia’s first Nobel laureate).  I’d read Anna's pleas on behalf of orphans during famine and her vivid descriptions of local life, but tracing her footsteps would have to wait for a time when I could get away for more than two weeks.

All fell in place for the November 2018 adventure:  son Owen said “I’ll go,” after a traveling buddy said she could not; round-trip tickets LA/Mumbai for $625 and e-visas were obtained; and friend Karen offered to arrange housing for us in budget-wise Goa, where she and her husband Dan spend winters.  My dream of taking a (opulent riches) train across the country would also have to await fulfillment.

Two favorite films—Attenborough’s Gandhi and Lean’s A Passage to India—inspired a Mumbai shore tour, beginning with Gateway to India, iconic monument of the British Raj.  Religion and the conflicts it can create were underlying themes of the tour.  We saw sites of the 2008 attacks by a Pakistan-based Islamic terrorist group.  “Hindus and Muslims in Mumbai get along okay now,” said guide Ganesh.  






At a Hindu temple we learned of millions of Hindu gods…more mind-boggling than the 10,000 plus Catholic-sanctioned saints, many of whom are also revered and petitioned for aid.  “I don’t believe in any of it,” said Ganesh.  I don’t either—way too complex.  Beautiful simplicity in Saint Paul’s inviting assertion: “There is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all.”  

We visited the house (now museum) where Gandhi stayed—humbling, inspiring…the spareness of his room, the thousands of books he read.  “We’re not so keen on him now,” said Ganesh. “He told Hindus not to retaliate when Muslims attacked, but let the Muslims off the hook.”  Gandhi was drawn to the peace-making Christ and suggested Christians should live more like him.*  He also wrote that the West, while professing Christianity, was (still is!) “worshipping Mammon.”  Sad that the East—with a variety of religious traditions— increasingly serves Mammon too.  Indian Frank Raj writes convincingly about rejecting Christianity (Christ was not the founder, he argues), along with every other religion and ideology, and following the way of Christ at  https://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2014/dec/31/gandhi-glimpsed-christ-rejecting-christianity-fals/

After two days in Mumbai we flew to Goa—tourist mecca and Portugal’s base for a lucrative spice trade for 450 years, until 1961.  The colonialists forced locals to convert to Catholicism and ran an inquisition in Goa to punish apostate New Christians—Portuguese Jews and Muslims who, under pressure, had converted to Catholicism—as well as converted Hindus suspected of having returned to Hindu practices.  Goa is now quite diverse religiously, but I sensed spiritual unrest amid the coconut palms and cashew trees.  Intriguing history—inspiration for Richard Zimler’s award-winning Guardian of the Dawn, my next must read!

Owen did repairs/put new strings on Hannah's guitar

Many Goans rent rooms to tourists; Karen and Dan set us up with long-time, nearby friends.  We felt immediate kinship to our hostess and her daughter Hannah.  Owen and Hannah quickly discovered common faith, common interests, and sweet companionship.  The mothers watched, intrigued; Hannah's mom said: “I recently told Hannah: ‘The right suitor must come with his mother’.”  I’d told Owen weeks before the trip: “The right woman for you will appear at the right time.”  What might evolve from the encounter?  Time will tell.  Meanwhile we feel profound gratitude for the riches to be gained when we move beyond boundaries of borders and race and culture and discover friendship...even halfway around the world.

Buying fish and squid on Benaulim Beach

*one part of Gandhi’s response to a question from missionary E. Stanley Jones, as documented in The Christ of the Indian Road—a profound little book

Abortion is Complex; Let's Not Make It a Fight!

Fear and fury.  Honest emotions after listening to an NPR piece on the mid-term USA elections and hearing a woman refer to abortion as “a human rights atrocity happening inside our country.”  A human rights atrocity?!  Wait, what?  Human rights atrocities in the US are children gunned down in schools, homeless kids trafficked for sex and labor, women battered by intimate partners, people of color unfairly targeted/labeled as criminals--incarcerated in disproportionate numbers, historically lynched...enslaved.

Calling abortion a human rights atrocity equates women who choose to end pregnancy with those perpetrating heinous crimes against humanity.  It’s a call to arms, to possible violence--this my fear--in a world where violence has become the order of the day.  The day I listened to the NPR piece, four members of a far-right group were finally charged for violently attacking counter protesters (the evidence was there a year ago)…and pipe bombs were delivered to Trump critics.

And my fury?  What gives this woman the right to make such a pronouncement?  Is she privy to the mystery of the beginning of life--of personhood--a mystery long pondered by theologians, leading people of sincere faith to hold different viewpoints on abortion?  Has she no sense of balance or priority in light of the rollback of human rights around the world?  Are potential lives more important than the lives of those suffering and dying in wars, in ethnic cleansing campaigns, in famines?

Who is she?  Too troubled by her words to catch her name, I played the NPR piece again.  Kristan Hawkins, president of Students for Life of America.  Their website declares: “We are the Pro-Life Generation and we will abolish abortion.” References to an army.  And this vision: “Once they feel that they can defend their anti-abortion beliefs, young people will take their passion for ending abortion and put it into action, sacrificing everything they can to save lives, change hearts, and transform our nation.”

That vision alarms me.  It is simplistic and narrow, ignoring wider woes troubling America.

I read about the organization's history, supporters, goals.  Looked at photos of fresh-faced, mostly white students.  Was touched by their efforts to support pregnant women on college campuses in practical ways...but wondered why they would not put at least equal effort into helping students prevent pregnancy (irony in the fact that their avowed enemy Planned Parenthood has long been a resource for pregnancy prevention).  And what about addressing sexual coercion and assault--historically under-reported on campuses--that sometimes result in pregnancy?  

Students for Life promotes non-violent confrontations, but I sense a kind of violence--or at least a will to dominate--in the black and white approach to women who find themselves pregnant.  Phrases I saw on the website--those who oppose equality for the preborn, and a person is a person no matter how small--trouble me.  They indicate presumption about personhood rather than humility in the face of mystery. And they ignore the individual and broader social complexities of unwanted/unplanned pregnancy.

I had an abortion in 1984, aged 32, following acquaintance rape by a married man. The rape happened just days before leaving Africa after six years of teaching nursing and working with Zambia Nurses Christian Fellowship. My decision-making process?  I reread a Christian Medical Society book outlining various views on the fetus and abortion, based on various interpretations of Scripture. I reflected, prayed, and was exposed to an OB/GYN physician in Colorado Springs (then home to many conservative para-church organizations) who told me it would be murder.  I did not sense that God considered it murder; I sensed His compassion for me in my struggle to make the best decision in a complex situation.  Supported by my parents, I found one of three physicians providing abortions in the city.  I experienced no ill consequences—physical, emotional, or spiritual.  In recent years, working with high risk families, I've helped women plan for pregnancy, and empathized with those facing unplanned pregnancy—some of whom chose abortion, some not.

Framing abortion in the US as a fight is bound to cost us dearly…it already has.  So, dear reader, whatever your views, I hope that you--if interested--will join me in a respectful dialog.  We need to consider together the complexities of abortion, to think critically about all aspects of it, engaging young people involved in the Students for Life groups around the country…and those within our own circles who are willing to discuss this challenging issue.  I've shared my thoughts with NPR and with Students for Life.