There and back : #FreedomWay for Belarus

Last Sunday, August 23, I went on a very special pilgrimage to Lithuania. Quite different from what some may expect when hearing this word, but the kind I find the most meaningful spiritually – for a special cause and on behalf of others. This time to show support for the ordinary people of Belarus who have been protesting against the authoritarian rule of Alexander Lukashenko,  the rigged election results from August 9 and the state brutality and injustice that has followed.

Belarus borders Latvia but in so many ways it seems like a far far away place. Actually I have never been to Belarus. Not that I do not want to, but we, Latvians,  tend to live with our backs turned to the East (namely Russia) and faces turned to the West (European Union). Metaphorically! Especially since joining the European Union in 2004. The eastern borders in ways remind us of the not-so-distant past and the oppression by the totalitarian system of the USSR. The antagonistic feeling has grown stronger because of the authoritarian regimes in Russia and Belarus and the ways that Soviet past is still glorified in those countries.  Alexander Lukashenko has been in power in Belarus since 1994 and has been steadily building up the “strong man” myth – that it is better to be ruled by iron and fist as long as you have food and security. When this ” iron and fist” brutally and violently came down on thousands of peaceful protesters this August, any kind of pretense was gone. A president, who walks around in army fatigues, brandishing an AK 47 assault rifle and threatening a swift punishment of all opposition,  has lost any legitimacy as a leader.

I have watched the horrifying eye-witness videos, read the victim’s stories of beatings, arrests and torture, seen the photos of massive protests, read the statements from the church leaders in Belarus calling for the end of violence and police brutality… and have felt helpless. How can we show practical solidarity and compassion to our suffering neighbors in the time of such struggle for freedom and justice? People in Latvia have been demonstrating in front of the Embassy of Belarus, have been donating and sending money to different groups and NGOs and the social media profiles are flooded with the flag of Belarus.

I knew I had to put my feet where my Facebook is. So, I signed up to join a group of grassroots volunteers and activists to drive to Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania, and to show solidarity by joining the human chain from Vilnius to the border of Belarus. It is a distance of only 32 km. “The Lithuanian human chain marked the anniversary of a mass protest on August 23, 1989, when 2 million people joined arms across the three Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. Known as the Baltic Way, it was a peaceful protest against authoritarian Soviet rule.” I have very vivid childhood memories from 1989 when we stood there, joining hands physically but also sensing the support from people all around the world who understood our longing and hopes. Now in 2020 we, Latvians, Lithuanians and Estonians, find ourselves on the “other side” of this post-Soviet reality and domain, while the society in Belarus is in the middle of an existential struggle and nobody knows if it can reach the tipping point.

So, we went by bus. It was a long day and very long drive. The organizers estimate that up to 50,000 people participated, many of them dressed in white and wearing face masks to prevent the spread of the corona-virus. One thing we did not expect was that we (and thousands of vehicles) would get stuck in a major traffic jam since so many people were trying to make their way to this Vilnius – Minsk highway. Our bus crawled and crawled until we realized – we cannot reach the highway by the designated hour at 7pm. And we did what everyone else did – jumped out of cars and simply started joining hands wherever we happened to stop. Our group had the Latvian flags and soon other Latvians joined us. Then more people came and joined. Afterwards we found out that our small chain had participants from Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus, Russia and Ukraine.

I felt very emotional and still feel emotional writing these words and remembering these faces of the young people from different countries. Actually I did not see everyone’s face since most of us wore the face masks. But I remember the eyes and the eyes were communicating more than words. We looked at each other, joined our hands, will, mind, heart and experienced something truly spiritual and unforgettable. I knew that in that moment on some small road in a suburb of Vilnius we had a very clear understanding of “who is my neighbor”. The people of Belarus are our neighbors and right now they are in an urgent need of support, compassion, justice, solidarity, prayers and help.

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Eph 6:12)

Vilnius Freedom Way

Courage to be available

Courage is something I think about often and have fantasized about it a lot. Whether simply speaking my mind, taking a risky decision, confronting a challenging situation or dealing with a peer pressure. I have noticed that I am always drawn to the real life people or fictitious characters who display the unexpected and practical courage against all odds. Could it be that I am so attracted to selfless acts of courage because deep inside I always doubt my own “hypothetical” choices?!

When I was a little girl watching many WWII movies, I dreamed about being a courageous nurse who is pulling wounded soldiers of the battle field. When I became very religious, I wanted to be always ready to become a witness for my faith to the point of martyrdom if I found myself in a place hostile to my religious convictions. When I joined a faith-based organization as a volunteer, I always admired, even envied, others who would start a pioneering work in the most extreme and dangerous circumstances like conflict zones or in countries with severe restrictions of political, religious and economic freedoms.

But with time I realized that the real test of courage is in the small things and the motivation to be courageous cannot be framed with these romantic, grandiose notions of my childhood fantasies. In the fantasies we always have certain freedom to choose our actions and can expect certain rewards like the admiration of people and future generations. But the experience and intuition tells me that the real courage can feel like no choice at all and the future rewards are certainly overrated.

July 4 is probably best known worldwide as the Independence Day in the USA. In Latvia this date is also remembered on a national level but for a very different reason. It is Commemoration Day of Genocide against the Jews. On July 4, 1941, shortly after the occupation by the USSR ended and the occupation by Nazi Germany began, Riga’s main Jewish synagogue was destroyed and burned. It effectively marked the beginning of the Holocaust in Latvia in which 65,000 – 70,000 Latvian citizens of Jewish ethnicity were killed. In fact, five of six synagogues in the capital city were completely destroyed that day (and until the present there is only one synagogue left in Riga). Also, there are accounts that there were people burned alive inside the Riga Great Choral synagogue, but the historical data has been inconclusive as to how many.

Last week I attended a lecture/presentation about some of the brave rescuers who saved Jews in Latvia during those horrifying years of the Nazi German occupation. In a sense these people seemed very ordinary on the outside and to their neighbors, but absolutely extraordinary to the people they sheltered, saved and tried to help. Sometimes unsuccessfully. These stories were truly inspiring but it also constantly reminded of the sad reality that there were not so many of them. These brave man and women had chosen the most difficult and often judged, misunderstood path. Still, they chose to be available…

During the Q&A session after the presentation, the difficult conundrum of courage was expressed with a straightforward question – what motivated people, who lived under such evil totalitarian and genocidal regime like the Nazi occupation, to show this extraordinary courage? To not conform to the “silent” and/or complying majority  and to save their fellow citizens from a certain death. (Note: As a follower of Jesus Christ, I wish there would have been a more obvious answer that the person’s religious convictions and commitments made all the difference. The truth was much more ambiguous even though there were some clear examples when the rescuers were people of faith.)

This public event was organized by Zanis Lipke Memorial Museum in Riga  which I highly recommend to visit. One of their future projects is House of Courage with this manifest: ” Dock worker Žanis Lipke under impossible circumstances saved people who were not considered people by the authorities and neighbours under German occupation. That required courage and friends. Being brave isn’t easy, being the minority isn’t easy. Hating and suspecting any otherness is easier, it takes no effort. But we want to live in a country where your fellow men and women are considered people.”

The German/American theologian and philosopher Paul Tillich is famous for his thesis of “courage to be”. I believe that being brave expands it to “courage to be available”.

Patience is another name for peace

It has been a very long pause… long pause in blogging, writing diary and social networking. I started February with a great determination to get back to regular schedule of weekly posts and then it happened. Someone very close to me was facing a difficult situation when unexpectedly becoming a primary caregiver to his newborn baby while the baby’s mother was in the hospital for an extended period.

Suddenly everyone in the family was on a steep learning curve of managing a crisis mode while learning all about baby care – milk formulas, nappies, burping, tummy issues, baths, etc. I remember how “relieved” we felt after the pediatrician had the first monthly check-up and gave a good report. It did not help that all this happened during the Covid-19 pandemic when our “lives as we know it” got severely interrupted and most of normal routines had to stop. It added so many complications that I cannot even begin to describe.

But something else happened. An unexpected twist which I will try to put into words. It seemed that during the quarantine the word on the street or, in this case, the word online was “time”. We have time. We have more time. Finally we have got the time. We have been forced to stop from our rat race and now we have time for what really matters. With all the million suggestions in articles, podcasts, interviews and talks to describe, analyze and define what is it that really matters.

But to me it felt like I had lost the time. More precisely, like I was living outside the time. Like the time stood still. Until I realized that this is probably what living in the moment feels like. I was pushing the baby carriage for long walks in the park, smelling the spring in the air, watching how people keep the distance from each other but still prefer to walk where they can see each other. Besides time to listen to some uplifting and inspiring podcasts, I kept reflecting on how this little helpless baby is teaching me something very important. The baby could not speak but every time she looked at me I heard loudly – slow down! I could not fix the difficult situation that my loved ones were in, but through this sense of slowing down I was also sensing a lot of hope in the midst of confusion and pain.

Today I found the exact words I was looking for. In a beautiful little book titled “Living Gently in a Violent World”, theologian Stanley Hauerwas writes: “Peace takes time. Put even more strongly, peace creates time by its steadfast refusal to force the other to submit in the name of order. Peace is not a static state but an activity which requires constant attention and care. [..] So, peace is the process through which we make time our own rather than be determined by “events”over which, it is alleged, we have no control.”

That is exactly how I felt it and saw it – I was learning in a new way how to make personal and social peace through an activity which required constant attention and care. I mean literal attention and literal care. And I am not talking about mindfulness, meditation or any other spiritual practice to “slow us down”. I am talking about listening intently to the “weakest” and “slowest” members of our community.

I would like to think of myself as a very patient person, but the little daily things routinely remind me that I am not. I walk back and forth, while I wait for the public transportation, to “kill the time”. I listen to a podcast, while on the public transport, to “fill the time”. But God through a little baby was revealing to me how to “still the time”.

Because at the heart of “living more gently in a violent world” is the realization that I have all the time I need.

P.S. I borrowed the phrase of Stanly Hauerwas for the title of this post.  It was simply too good 🙂

Faith and politics at the dinner table? Needed more than ever

When I visit the United States, many friends want to hear my European “outsider” point of view since they know my interest in religion, politics, history and current issues. Not in a sense that I am some kind of expert or have the best analysis. The main reason is that they like me and I like them and they trust me to respect their views. Even if we see things differently.

We all know the old maxim  – polite dinner table conversation among friends, family and, especially, strangers should avoid discussing politics, religion and other “private”, sensitive topics. We don’t want to stir up strong personal opinions and disagreements, experience unpleasant or embarrassing reactions, etc. I think of the countless movie scenes where finally the father or, usually, the mother tells everyone to shut up, change the subject and simply enjoy being together as “family”.

It is nothing original but I want to strongly challenge this maxim. In the current age of incivility, polarization and disrespect I believe that  we need to bring hard topics to our places of fellowship between friends and gatherings among family. My argument is very simple. Where else can we learn to practice robust, open and honest conversations with civility, respect and even love?

There are articles, books, research and whatnot written about all the negative “side effects” of our digital age of internet, social media and technology. One of them being the danger of “echo chambers” where we only chat with the people who think like us. Other big communication problems are the lack of civility, bullying, trolling, demonizing and so on. These days we are not just missing critical thinking, logical arguments and fact checking. We are missing a basic civility and simple kindness to another human being.  Our social communication and interaction is becoming nastier and more toxic. No wonder we need such initiatives as, for example, Kindness Institute at University of California-Los Angeles.

Let me say that I have a fear and dislike of sharp, public arguments. I don’t even like to join discussion threads on social media like Facebook commentaries. Many times I have written my piece of mind only to delete it seconds later. I am extremely careful not to add “more fuel to the fire”. Plus, I don’t feel like I can influence anyone’s opinion or have a deep, robust conversation in the digital world. You may question then why I write a blog, but somehow it seems different. I write down my reflections and trust that somewhere and somehow it will resonate.

Our modern/postmodern society has another big problem – the lack of trust. Specially not trusting any institutions and “sources” whether it is mainstream media, education, government, even the church. Often in discussions about polarizing political or faith issues I get the question of what  are my “sources”. Who is your authority? If we are from different camps, we are usually not even interested in the honest answer. We have made up our minds that to see things differently is narrow-minded, ignorant or even dangerous. Then we don’t feel bad to treat other people unkindly or disrespectfully.

This is where the dinner table in the company of family or friends comes in. Family or friends discussions about sensitive and difficult issues are important. We all need places where we can practice civil disagreements with respect and love for each other. Of course, we still need to use judgement what topics and when but not talking about the “elephant in the room” is not the solution. Always avoiding difficult topics is like saying “peace, peace” where there is no peace. I don’t mean that we need to force debates simply for arguments sake, but we do need to cultivate the civility and atmosphere of openness and inclusion.

When the person whom I disagree with is a person I feel affection for, things are different. Communication is more personal. Desire to listen is greater. I know that I want this relationship to flourish, even if our views are polar opposites. Also, with family and friends I am usually much more open and interested to understand their views. I don’t dismiss their “sources” and I am more ready to hear another perspective. If we don’t learn how to do it “inside” the home and with our close friends, how are we going to learn to do it “outside”? If we don’t want to do it with family and friends, what makes us think that we will want to do it with strangers? Or in the anonymous digital reality?

Therefore it is more important now than ever to break the taboo and keep the divisive and excluding topics at our dinner table…

That’s it! No resolutions but one!

I went to the farmer’s market for the weekly shopping. Potatoes, carrots, apples, oranges… what else do I need for the last three days of 2019? Do I want to cook something? Not really! This is what happens when my husband is away during the holidays and I don’t care if the fridge is empty. Call it the end-of-the-busy-year laziness!

Tomorrow is Sunday, the day to see my church friends. I particularly enjoy that the church service starts in the afternoon because weekends are also perfect for late starts. Usually there is a long list of things I wish to do on the weekend but I get too ambitious. The list is simply too long and the hours too short. Friends, family, books, morning devotionals, walks, movies… the familiar choice of favorite activities.

I also tend to spend a lot of time of thinking, and there is always a certain pressure to reflect at the end of the calendar year. I don’t know why?! Maybe I do but I am sure smarter people have many answers why we need to mark each year – the milestones, the highlights, the achievements, the failures and the surprises – and why we make resolutions for the next one.

I peeked at my last post from December 2018 (please, don’t!) and saw a reminder why my New Year’s resolutions is usually such a vapor. One year ago I wrote: “I would ‘plan’ more fun.” Like dancing (occasionally in front of the mirror?), swimming (once this summer?), reading classic novels (when was the last time?), live concerts (yes, a few!), hikes in the woods (none!), museums (did I?) and traveling around (some in 2019 but starting 2020 with a trip to Thailand).

There is certainly something wonderful, uplifting, human, healthy and necessary about trying to choose and to decide what this earthly life is about and what are my most important priorities in the year to come. In some ways it is not so different from those childhood dreams of “who I want to become when I grow up”. Surely I am still growing up. I get excited when I think about what unknown challenges, opportunities and adventures may be around the bend and I still prefer the road-less-traveled.

There is one resolution, though, which I make… and absolutely need to make every year, month, week and day. It may sound like a spiritual platitude but there is one companion whom I cannot do without and choose to hold on to – God as in Father, Son and Holy Spirit! As in personal God, as in friend, as in helper and much more. There is hope when I get too arrogant, self-righteous, distracted, confused, discouraged, lost and delusional. There is hope when there is madness in me and all around. There is hope when I don’t know what I want or need or can. There is hope when I want to love my family, friends and even my “enemies” like Jesus has showed us and taught us, but I cannot. There is hope when I realize again and again that I have a “stiff” heart but God can turn it.

“If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” My resolution for 2020? To ask for more of the spirit of Jesus!

Nations becoming something more: European perspective

Sitting in Lähetyskirkko in Helsinki, an old church with a very contemporary and welcoming feel, I was  drawn to the stained-glass window with the map of the world. Enframed within the ornate design, it looked beautiful but small and somehow fragile. Just like those amazing images from the outer space which make me think about “the whole world in His hands”.

The world and the continents may seem monolithic but not so once we zoom in and the borders of the nations come into our focus. As I was looking at Europe, my mind was playing one of those interactive maps which show how the borders of the European nations have shifted through the millennia, centuries, decades and years. With so much… too much blood spilled fighting over these lands and the borders. And Latvia, this small corner on the Baltic Sea, has suffered under many powerful and shifting winds of history.

Here I was in Helsinki, participating in a State of Europe Forum (SOEF) which focused on the current European challenges and also opportunities for creative solutions. Christian leaders from many different backgrounds – arts, church, government, politics, science, academia, business, education, environmental work, etc. – came together with an agenda to explore difficult and important issues. The SOEF framed these topics within the premise of “the largely Christian origins of the European movement, and of ongoing Christian responsibility towards the shaping of Europe’s future”. The underlying question – “why do such roots matter for the future?”

One of the sessions focused on the current trends of rising nationalism and populism in democratic nations. What concerns me the most, though, is when religion, specifically, Christianity gets weaponized to legitimize obviously authoritarian, undemocratic and simply unjust ideas and actions. For example, the infamous Crimean speech in 2014 which the president of Russia, Vladimir Putin, gave on the occasion of annexation and “unification” of Crimea with Russia. “Everything in Crimea speaks of our shared history and pride. This is the location of ancient Khersones, where Prince Vladimir was baptised. His spiritual feat of adopting Orthodoxy predetermined the overall basis of the culture, civilisation and human values that unite the peoples of Russia, Ukraine and Belarus.”

Russia is an obvious and easy target to highlight these trends but unfortunately it is not the only example. It comes much closer. I could name various similar ideas in the West  – in Brexit debates, elections in the U.S.A., memory and identity politics, migration policies and foreign policies in other Western countries. Therefore in any public discussion that focuses on Christianity’s influence in the history of European nations, we, Christians, have to take a very hard and long look into the mirror and examine our own reflection. Why do we allow for our faith to be weaponized in such ugly ways?

Recently I heard some statements which I really liked. These were stated during Riga Conference 2019 panel discussion on ” New powers – shaping regions or shaping history?” by Simon Serfaty, a professor of political science at Old Dominion University in Norfolk, Virginia, USA. He was discussing the weaknesses in authoritarian systems and how the “new” and “renewed” influential nations, for example, China, Russia and Turkey “live their future in the past tense” with revisionist approach. S. Serfaty described the project of European Union as “a matter of necessity, not a matter of choice” and asked the audience “how, when and whether this necessity is gone?”

S. Serfaty concluded: “The liberal hegemonic order did not force its participants to become somebody or something else; it forced its participants to become somebody or something more.” This statement immediately reminded of my personal experience growing up in the Soviet Union and now living in the European Union. I thought to myself: “Exactly! Soviet Union tried to shape us into something else against our own will but European Union gives so many nations a chance to try to become something more.”

More than simply nations focused on their own nationalistic interests with attitude ” God bless us (and no place else)!”  In the current global situation it would be extremely difficult to defend the so-called fundamental EU values – respect for human dignity and human rights, freedom, democracy, rule of law, equality and peace –  outside such an unprecedented platform of “Unity in Diversity”.

Postcard from Little Rock with famous stairs from segregation to inclusion

A visit to Little Rock Central High School in Arkansas, a National Historic Site? Done! Ever since watching the documentary “Eyes On The Prize: America’s Civil Rights Movement” and learning more about the Little Rock Nine and the events in 1957, I wanted to see this site of former social and political struggle. (I call these my “pilgrimages” to meet God and fellow human beings in a deeply challenging way.) Using religious and biblical language, this place has an aura of holiness where I want to take off my shoes like Moses in front of the burning bush.

Absolutely gorgeous and majestic building! If I did not know that it is a high school, I would think it is a big, old university or government building. Like the beautiful state capitol buildings all around the USA. To me, it looks even more majestic because of its troubled history.

To quote a History Channel website, “The Little Rock Nine were a group of nine black students who enrolled at formerly all-white Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas, in September 1957. Their attendance at the school was a test of Brown v. Board of Education, a landmark 1954 Supreme Court ruling that declared segregation in public schools unconstitutional. On September 4, 1957, the first day of classes at Central High, Governor Orval Faubus called in the Arkansas National Guard to block the black students’ entry into the high school. Later that month, President Dwight D. Eisenhower sent in federal troops to escort the Little Rock Nine into the school.”

As we know, history is not just about facts. (Those you can learn by simply searching for  ‘Little Rock Nine‘). It is about the truth that it stands for and the mirror it holds out to us. We can judge the past generations, but they always push back with a rhetorical question –  what would you have done? I looked at those beautiful stairways and the large platform at the LR Central High School and though to myself, “What a stage! What a platform for the whole world to see!” Much of the Western world did watch the ugly face of blatant racism on full display.

And then I think about all the other schools and institutions around the world, past and present, which are not under such a spotlight but ,nonetheless, struggle with the same issues. ‘Us’ and ‘them’. ‘Insiders’ and ‘outsiders’. Those who ‘belong and deserve’ and those who ‘don’t belong and don’t deserve’.  Separating people by race, gender, language, religion, ethnicity, etc. Little Rock Central High School could be anywhere and, in some ways, it is everywhere.

Europe, Australia, Southeast Asia, North America… all parts of the world. Ask the Rohingya in Burma, ask tribal people or anyone with dark skin in Thailand, ask Aboriginal Australians, ask the Gypsies in Latvia and other European countries, ask the Sudanese in Egypt… I think of all the conversations I have had with friends who have experienced different forms of racial prejudice.

Racism comes in many shades of attitudes and forms. I never knew I could think as racist and speak as racist until I found out that I could. And I am very grateful for dear friends who called it out! I have been blindsided many times. Just like many of us who don’t think about “racism” because we think we can choose not to think about it.

The neighborhood around Little Rock Central High School is another powerful visual reminder that the struggle for our common human dignity is continuing. The neighborhood is an obvious “hood”. For me as a visitor, it looks like a Hollywood movie about gang-ruled, run-down, trashy, poor neighborhood, but unfortunately this is not a movie set. I drove around thinking how I would not want to live here, how I do not even want to park my friend’s  car anywhere and how out of the place the beautiful historic high school building looks. It is very easy to imagine that, back in 1957, this was a mostly white (or maybe all white) neighborhood. Now the residents are mostly black. Obviously at some point the demographics were completely switched. Even as the high school was becoming integrated.

I saw many white high school students coming out of the buildings, but they did not walk very far. Getting into their cars, parked right in front of the school and school buses and driving away. To some, surely, nicer, newer and much safer neighborhoods. The contrast between the two realities  – the school and the neighborhood – could not be any starker.

This short pilgrimage to Little Rock Central High School grounds reminded me that of us, not just Americans, are on a continuous journey. To quote Martin Luther King, Jr., “The arc of moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” There are many more beautiful, but difficult stairways to climb.

 

The lessons of humble courage from my long-time hero

How to respond when people make statements about the Church being full of hypocrites? My favorite answer was given by Shane Claiborne, a hero of mine, who said: “No, the Church is not full of hypocrites. Not yet! There is room for more!”

It makes me laugh out loud but also touches something deeper and more profound than a good sense of irony. It speaks to our imperfect humanity and shared vanity. All of us are hypocrites in one sense or another. In or outside of religious communities. With or without any religious beliefs. We often don’t practice what we preach. Still, as a long-time practicing hypocrite I would rather be in the company of others who recognize it in ourselves and desire to follow a better way. The way of humility which for me is the way of Jesus Christ!

I finally got to meet and hear Shane Claiborne in person. He is a best-selling author, speaker and founder of The Simple Way community in Philadelphia.  Mainly known for activism inspired by his Christian faith, advocating for the homeless, nonviolence,  to end the death penalty and being involved in other social causes. His latest book “Beating guns” (2019) focuses on ways to stop gun violence. I have read Shane Claiborne’s books, ” The Irresistible Revolution”, ” Jesus For President”, agreed with many of the stances and followed his public activities for some years now. Needless to say, I got very excited to see him listed as one of the speakers at Justice, Mercy and Humility conference @  AudioFeed Festival in Champaign-Urbana, Illinois.

Audiofeed Festival is an Arts and Music community whose goal is “To create an environment where unconditional love is nurtured, encouraged, and shared without regard for appearance, religious belief, race, societal status, or any other thing that separates us from each other in the world at large. We believe that the perfect example of that Love was expressed through Jesus Christ and we do our best in fitful and imperfect ways to follow His example. Exploration, questioning, doubts, fears, hopes, joys… all are welcomed and encouraged. Ultimately we’re people who want to support each other and experience great music and art with others who feel the same way.”

I can truly say that it is a space and an event where the atmosphere of community, authenticity and inclusion is palpable. From organizers, volunteers, artists to the audience. Lots of it can be explained as inheriting of values and philosophy of Cornerstone Festival (1984-2012). (If you never had the chance to attend Cornerstone Festival in Illinois, USA, I will not even attempt to describe it. I can only recommend watching the documentary, dedicated to its 20th anniversary.)

Creative authenticity and humble courage are qualities the world needs. ” Entitlement is the opposite of humility”, one of the statements from Shane Claiborne that has really stuck with me. Often we talk about pride as the opposite of humility but entitlement is something that points to the deeper root of pride in our hearts. The way of Jesus turns the notion of entitlement on its head! “Though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” (Philippians 2:6-7)

I apologize if this too much Christian and Bible talk for some, but these simple truths get twisted and misrepresented so easily. This is the reason why I enjoy being in company of people who acknowledge that we are all imperfect hypocrites, together on the journey of faith.

P.S. AudioFeed Festival is not Cornerstone, but it is close as it gets. Highly recommend it!!!

 

 

Hong Kong stands courageous and defiant

After visiting Hong Kong, you never forget this unique, vibrant and beautiful island. I find this city, which has the most skyscrapers in the world, simply breathtaking. This is especially true when viewing the city from the Sky Terrace on the top of the mountain overlooking Victoria Bay or capturing the skyline at night.

Still, Hong Kong is much more than one of the financial business centers of the world. Last week it made the headlines as the center of political activism with large protests against a controversial law that would allow Hong Kong citizens to be extradited to mainland China. I want to join the Hong Kong people in the hope that the world will take notice. Not just take notice as in 3 min news clips but speak up for the democracy and freedom that is threatened in this part of Asia.

Hong Kong’s political future is clearly at stake. “One country, two systems” is a constitutional principle which means that there is one China but certain regions, for example, Hong Kong, have its own governmental system, legal, economic and financial affairs. When Britain transferred Hong Kong to China in 1997, the Sino-British Joint Declaration signed in 1984 guaranteed these rights to Hong Kong for the next 50 years. How Hong Kong will be governed after 2047 is an open question – reintegrate with mainland China or stay under separate administration… Nobody knows what that future looks like.

It is very clear that China under the leadership/rule of Xi Jinping is becoming more and more authoritarian. Surveillance of its people like no place else; a “social credit system“ to be fully implemented by 2020 which will monitor the behavior of all citizens  and rank them based on the “social credit“; a continued oppression and re-education of Uighur Muslim minority in Xinjiang province which human rights groups describe as the largest mass incarceration in the 21st century; increased religious persecution, closing of Christian churches and jailing pastors who do not submit to the government control.

These are only few of the obvious abuses of universal human rights in the name of order and control of this vast country with large population and turbulent past. I would dare to say that in China the line between authoritarian and totalitarian rule is very fine.  The age-old idea of one strong hand (party), one ideology, one strong man (supreme leader, king, emperor) is steadily enforced and Hong Kong feels increasingly targeted and pulled by force into this authoritarian orbit.

I don’t understand all geopolitics and I have no idea what goes on behind closed doors. Nevertheless I can’t shake the feeling that the democratic nations are either completely consumed with their own domestic problems or care much less about using the “soft power” of diplomacy to support democratic initiatives around the world. Recently I was discussing these issues with a Hong Kong friend. I made a remark how Western governments, including in my home country of Latvia, are suspiciously quiet on these obvious human rights abuses and erosion of any signs of democracy in China while focusing on trade wars and economics. My friend replied: ” The only place to stand up to China is Hong Kong!”

After seeing the photos of 2 million people marching on the streets of Hong Kong last Sunday, I have to agree with her. Hong Kong may be afraid about its Chinese future but people are not willing to accept it without strong resistance and letting their common voice be heard around the world. At the forefront of this political activism are young people who are no longer passive about their future prospects.

Another friend of mine who grew up in China but few years ago moved to Latvia, told me that he does not think the Westerner societies care about Chinese people (he meant the effects of authoritarianism). Those were sad words to hear and, I am afraid, mostly true. Still, I hope that this time Hong Kong people will not feel completely on their own.

 

 

 

 

Communicative memory through three or four generations of family

I love browsing through my grandmother’s photo albums, especially, searching for visual glimpses of her life before or during World War II, before and during the Soviet, then Nazi and then again Soviet regime. There are not many photos to find.. First of all, they were a simple farming family who did not have many photographers around their village. Secondly, the war, deportation of her parents to Siberia, confiscation of their family farm, scattering of family to all corners of Latvia and Lithuania, hiding in the post-war years… I am amazed that there are any photos left at all.

This is possibly the last photo of my great-grandparents Jānis and Margaret (sitting in the middle) and their eldest son Miķelis (on the far left) enjoying life, family and friends at their farm in Butinge, Lithuania. This territory belonged to Latvia until 1921 therefore most of the local population in surrounding area were Latvians. The photo could be taken circa 1942-1943. In the autumn of 1944 their village was again taken over by the Soviet troupes. In 1944 two of my grandmother’s brothers, including Miķelis, crossed the Baltic Sea as refugees and in 1948 my great-grandparents and great-great-grandmother (who was well into her 90-ties) were arrested and deported to Irkutsk region in Russia.

They were allowed to return to Latvia only in 1957, few years after Joseph Stalin’s death. They had nowhere to go since the farm was confiscated, except move from place to place to stay with their children who themselves were struggling to find places to live. Plus, anyone, who had been deported, carried the sentence of “enemy of the state” for the rest of their lives, making it very difficult to re-settle. You were discriminated and marked (as if with leprosy in Jesus times) and some avoided you for fear of the regime.

For anyone who follows the science of memory politics, social, collective and cultural memory, etc, you may be familiar with Aleida Assmann and her well-known  thesis about communicative memory which is limited to the recent past. “It evokes personal and autobiographical memories, and is characterized by a short term (80 to 110 years), from three to four generations. Due to its informal character, it does not require expertise on the part of those who transmit it.”

Here is my family. Almost 80 years since this photo was taken. Three to four generations that are connected with a particular memory, a particular story and this story tells of a very deep trauma. There is the first generation – my grandmother, her siblings, her parents – who experienced it first-hand. Often if the experience has been very traumatic, this generation becomes the “silent” generation, focusing on survival. In our family, this would be my grandmother’s generation. But there was an added layer of trauma – in the Soviet Union they were not allowed to talk about it. These memories were simply “erased” from public memory and official history because they did not match the ideology of the regime. When the memory is repressed, there is no chance for healing.

Then there is second generation which grows up with these “silent” parents. Even though my grandmother has never been the silent type, she was afraid to tell many details of her past to her children and grandchildren. Not until Latvia started shaking off the totalitarian Soviet regime and became an independent country again. Suddenly there was a flood of stories. Being the fourth generation in this chain of communicative memory, I now regret that I did not ask more questions before my grandmother’s memory got badly damaged by old age and before my mom passed away from cancer.

Recently I got a stark reminder how deeply this trauma still affects the older generation of Latvian society. My grandmother is the most cheerful, positive person I know but she started to complain about bad nightmares which she could never remember the next day. Only word she kept repeating was “mud” and “wading through mud”. One morning while I was staying with her few weeks ago, she woke up from another one of those nightmares. Only this time she could remember it and described it to me in vivid detail.

She dreamed of being arrested and taken from her home, loaded into an open truck together with a large group of other women (she told me there were no children and nobody had luggage) and driven through Siberian taiga. When I asked her what time of the year it was in her dream, she replied: “Oh, it was late autumn. There was no snow on the ground but there was mud everywhere. Very deep mud. The truck kept getting stuck in the mud and we had to wade through this mud. It was horrible.” And she kept repeating: “They were taking us to the death camp. They were going to kills us there and we knew that this was our last journey.”

The thing is… my grandmother herself was never deported (someone had warned her and she went into hiding). Her parents were and so were many of her neighbors and friends. This was a collective trauma which affected so many families in Latvia, Estonia and Lithuania. In Latvia alone, on March 25, 1949, approximately 43 000 people were arrested and deported to Siberia. It took 31 train cars to transport them on the long journey across Russia.

I asked grandmother why she thinks she has these nightmares about camps in Siberia if she was never there. Her reply: “No, I was not there with my parents, but I have suffered as much. I have lived in hiding, I have slept in the forests… Those were terrible times.”

When I think I know something, I learn how much I don’t know. Only to realize that healing takes a long, long time and even at the age of 95, this repressed trauma can haunt. And to realize that these communicative memories remind me why we have to be on constant guard against any kind of totalitarian ideology and system. Left wing, right wing, atheist, religious, etc. … I don’t care. Anything that decides who is “in” and who is “out”, who lives if they obey and who dies if they disobey. (I plan to write a separate post on how I see the danger and deception of totalitarian  “seeds”)

Meanwhile my grandmother holds onto these words: “He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds.” (Psalm 147:2)