I saw this for the first time this week, and must have watched it at 30 times since. It continues to get me.

The Song is currently at #3 on Billboard’s Hot Modern Rock Tracks.

Would love to hear your reactions.

Rand, who was studying English at Basra University, was deemed to have brought shame on her family after becoming infatuated with a British soldier, 22, known only as Paul.

…

‘Death was the least she deserved,’ said Abdel-Qader. ‘I don’t regret it. I had the support of all my friends who are fathers, like me, and know what she did was unacceptable to any Muslim that honours his religion,’ he said.

Sitting on a chair by his front door and surrounded by the gerberas and white daisies he had planted in the family garden, Abel-Qader attempted to justify his actions.

‘I don’t have a daughter now, and I prefer to say that I never had one. That girl humiliated me in front of my family and friends. Speaking with a foreign solider, she lost what is the most precious thing for any woman. ‘People from western countries might be shocked, but our girls are not like their daughters that can sleep with any man they want and sometimes even get pregnant without marrying. Our girls should respect their religion, their family and their bodies.

‘I have only two boys from now on. That girl was a mistake in my life. I know God is blessing me for what I did,’ he said, his voice swelling with pride. ‘My sons are by my side, and they were men enough to help me finish the life of someone who just brought shame to ours.’

Abdel-Qader, a Shia, says he was released from the police station ‘because everyone knows that honour killings sometimes are impossible not to commit’. Chillingly, he said: ‘The officers were by my side during all the time I was there, congratulating me on what I had done.’ It’s a statement that, if true, provides an insight into how vast the gulf remains between cultures in Iraq and between the Basra police and the British army that trains them.

• Does the story *really* indicate a vast gulf between the cultures of the Basra police and the British (or American) armies? Why or why not?
• In what sense is the execution by the authorities for committing a capital crime in the 62 nations that still actively use capital punishment different from this execution of Rand by her father?
• All cultures have blind spots. We’re aghast at this cruel murder and cultural justification thereof. Doubtless we have similar blind spots. Where is the hope with regards to this trait (of having such gaping blind spots) in humans–in us?

It reminded me of a recent post by Julie Clawson in which she asks “Should Christians apologize (for the behavior/words of other Christians?)”

By “apologize” in the title, I mean “express regret for” and also “Accept some responsibility for”

By “in-group” in mean “a social group towards which an individual feels loyalty and respect, usually due to membership in the group.”

I rather suspect such apologies can be powerful catalysts for healing and MTWABP, both on the personal and the group level.

So I’m wondering–do you have any stories you can share? Of giving or receiving such an apology personally? Or of giving or receiving such an apology in a larger group sense? I’d *love* to hear such stories.

Or … is there such an apology that you would *like* to be part of giving or receiving?

Tomorrow is very likely the last Mother’s Day I’ll get to spend with my mother. So I’d like to officially say:

I love you *and* like you, mom. You inspire me.

Filling out the top 10 were:

1. Mother
2. Passion
3. Smile
4. Love
5. Eternity
6. Fantastic
7. Destiny
8. Freedom
9. Liberty
10. Tranquillity

Some interesting words from further down the list of the 70 most beautiful words:

19. Hope

40. Pumpkin

45. Paradox (Hooray!)

60. Smithereens

70. Hen-night

This hits a bit close to home for me, as November 25, 2006 was the day of my sixth wedding anniversary.

Here’s what confuses me:  Why do 200 people get arrested protesting the unjust shooting death of an unarmed black man by New York police officers 18 months ago and the proceeding lack of accountability,  but zero people get arrested for protesting the unjust shootings and bombings of unarmed Iraqi civilians by American military personnel each and every week for the last 5 years, and the ongoing lack of accountability?

Maybe Sean Bell is somehow intrinsically more important or more valuable than the 11 civilians, including a child with their parents, killed by U.S. airstrikes in Baghdad on Monday.

(and by the way–what exactly comprises a “U.S. airstrike”?  One assumes it means that a military plane designed by a bunch of relatively normal people and built by a bunch more relatively normal people in a factory in Kansas or Seattle or California, armed with air to ground missiles designed and built by some other relatively normal people in a factory which was, perhaps, in Colorado, was flown by some fellow who grew up in a relatively normal family in, perhaps, New England, who … pushed a button which caused a relatively normal little kid and her relatively normal parents to die on Monday in Baghdad.  Am I getting that about right?  It all sounds almost innocuous, doesn’t it–almost … banal? Certainly highly ignorable by all the formerly mentioned relatively normal people.)

Along with all the dark truth about how this is going to very negatively affect rather a lot of people in Burma, which is #132 out of 177 on the Human Development Index, especially in light of the current developing world food crisis, as well as some truth about the extent to which such a storm is a result of climate change, I think there’s a lot of puzzle pieces which point to hope:

See for instance, this list in the International Herald Tribune, with pledges of US$12 million and lots of logistical aid from 15 different nations. Here’s the really crazy thing. The population of Burma in 1900 was 10 million. Now it’s 55 million. If the disaster had taken place in 1900:

• How long would it have been before the rest of the world even *knew* about the disaster?
• How long would it have taken to mobilize help?
• How long would the people of Burma have been pretty much on their own in trying to cope with the aftermath of such a huge disaster?
• How many nations would have taken part in helping?

I don’t have the beginnings of an answer to any of these questions (ask someone with an appropriate Ph.D.). But I have a strong suspicion that the changes between the answers for “In 1900″ and “In 2008″ are solid grounds for a little joy and hope in the midst of heart-wrenching disaster.

• Does that make any sense?
• Do you agree?
• What “should” our response to Cyclone Nargis be?
• Your thoughts?

“I think religion is a bad idea,” announced Off The Map’s Jim Henderson at last year’s Seattle conference.

“I think the worst idea of all is that we (Christians) are supposed to be a world religion,” he further explained.

The heartbeat of Off The Map is open minded communication: “We want to create dialog in a world gone different,” says Jim. This perspective is what drives OTM into corners of society that evangelicals typically steer clear of. Like dialoging with atheists, for instance. OTM had a unique opportunity to “buy an ebay atheist” a couple of years ago. This led to many opportunities for respectful conversation between atheists and evangelicals with all kinds of backgrounds. OTM blazed the way with their commitment to travelling to new places in their spiritual thought life.

So it came as no surprise to me when Jim announced that OTM had an open door to participate in an interspirituality event. A citywide five day gathering celebrating the virtue of compassion was being sponsored by an organization called, quite appropriately, Seeds of Compassion.

Each day consisted of panel discussions that featured various social, civic and religious leaders, but the big headliner was Tibetan Buddhist leader and Nobel Peace Prize winner the 14th Dalai Lama. On the last day the event focused on an interspiritual panel discussion on the topic of compassion. Besides the Dalai Lama, the panel included South Africa’s Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Rabbi David Rosen, Ingrid Mattson – who is the first woman president of the Islamic Association of North America – and Benedictine nun and author Joan Chittister as well as other leaders representing their faith tradition.

Representing the evangelical community on the first panel was author and pastor Rob Bell from Mars Hill church (not to be confused with Mars Hill Church in Seattle) in Grandville, Michigan. The second session, also attended by various spiritual leaders, included author and pastor Doug Pagitt of Solomon’s Porch in Minneapolis, Minnesota. (Those panel discussions can be viewed HERE.)

That afternoon, Off The Map led a workshop which was called, in keeping with the conference theme, Recovering the Compassionate Tradition of Jesus. It was modeled, OTM style, as a panel conversation rather than a lectern line-up of talking experts. The panel included Todd Hunter, Rob Bell, Andy Himes, Nancy Murphy, Sunil Sardar, Rabbi Anson Laytner and also Ingrid Mattson from the IANA.

About fifty people attended the workshop, including folks from the OTM community. Helen flew in from Chicago, Randy came in from Nevada, and musician and social-spiritual activist David Ruis made his way up from California. Seattle locals like Rose and Rich Swetman, who are long time friends and collaborators with OTM, also attended.

Jim set the tone when he declared, “We want to spend our time primarily listening.” The panelists graciously took turns diagnosing the condition of Christendom in America these days. “There is an arrogance of Christian subculture,” said Todd. Rob noted, “Jesus wants to save Christians!” He then spoke of how Christians have forgotten that our sacred text is the story of the oppressed. “Figure out who they are and help them out, those who are on the underside of power,” he said.

Heads around the room nodded in assent. In the context of the discussion and the Seeds of Compassion event, it made me wonder at how we, as Christ followers, can lead the way in serving the spiritually oppressed, those who belong to minority religions or misinterpreted spiritualities. Later, during the audience Q and A, a Muslim asked the panel, “How is it that some (inflammatory) preachers have such large followings?” Rob spoke up quickly, “On behalf of Christians everywhere please forgive us for Christian cable TV.” The room lightened up as a wave of snickering rumbled through. “I’m with ya, brother, “continued Rob. “Power is always seductive.”

As the panel loosened up they began to direct questions to one another. Jim wisely stayed out of the way as Nancy asked Ingrid and the Rabbi, who were the only two non-Christians on the panel, “How will you know when we are really followers of Christ?” The rabbi answered first, “You need to be honestly open to other people who believe differently. “ He later added that Christians need to view the other person as a person of integrity with their spiritual beliefs.

This was something I could relate to. I have good friends whose spirituality is so different than mine, yet they are some of the most kind-hearted women I know. How can I not respectfully dialog with them about their beliefs? What I’ve found, and continue to discover, is that when I listen, really listen to the other person, then more often than not, they are very willing to also listen to me. That is what dialog is all about.

The most compelling thing I heard at the workshop came from Ingrid. Poised and eloquent, this former Anglican, now-converted-to-Islam woman leader, told a room full of mostly churched people, “Hey, I love Jesus, too! And I don’t think it’s fair for only Christians to have him.” My evangelical conscience tried to protest at this. “What Jesus is she talking about?” But as I listened to Ingrid, as I paid attention to her, this woman who is so different than me, I realized that she is a God chaser just like me.

Is there room for Allah and Jesus in her life? Apparently, and though it is tempting to judge this and to fear the spiritual fallout of being misunderstood as a sympathetic disciple of syncretism, I have decided to see it another way. Randy innocently played a part in this when he whispered to me a Jim quote, ”When people like each other, the rules change.” Later, he and I would talk about those who believe differently, like Ingrid, no longer being an ideology or a category, but rather a person with a face, a name and a heart of gold.

Recovering the compassionate tradition of Jesus. This is why OTM hangs out with leaders and thinkers of other spiritual beliefs. We do well to remember that Jesus spent time listening and dialoging with others who believed differently than he did. The Samaritan woman is a famous example, as well as the Canaanite woman and also Romans, who very likely practiced the paganism of the day.

In these post-modern times of religious pluralism, I think Todd nailed it when he said that we need to shift from beliefism to followership. ”We need to practice being alert to the activity of God. We need to pay attention,” he said. And that is why OTM hung out with Tibetan Buddhists and Islamic practitioners on a rainy Tuesday in Seattle.

Grief is a single-faceted response to loss. Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, it also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social and philosophical dimensions. Common to human experience is the death of a loved one, whether it be a friend, family, or other close companion. While the terms are often used interchangeably, bereavement often refers to the state of loss, and grief to the reaction to loss

My lovely mom is at the final stage of terminal ovarian cancer. No food goes through her GIT, because it’s blocked by cancer, and so she gets hardly any nutrition. She’s lost another 20 pounds in the last 3 weeks or so. I’ve never seen her so skinny–I can see the shape of her facial bones more distinctly than ever in my life.

She called me up Wednesday morning to say “This morning when I woke up I felt like God had grabbed hold of my big toe and was pulling on it saying ‘Time to come home, Sue.’ So I just wanted to say good bye, and I love you, and I’ll see you in heaven, and I hope you find a good church so that your lovely amazing little girls will grow up to love the Lord. In case I don’t get to talk to you again.”

In response to that I cried.

So we went out to hang out with her on Wednesday afternoon. And my lovely Nana Kay was there. Nana Kay is my mom’s mom. She must be 80 something years old. She looks a lot healthier than my mom. It must be really hard to have to watch your child die.

I think I’m experiencing grief. I never really had this experience before, so I’m having to feel it out as I go. I’m not functioning nearly as well as I normally do (not that my “normal” is all that brilliant, actually). I’m in my last quarter at school, and I can feel myself seriously screwing up in terms of my grades this quarter, and I can’t really seem to care that much (which is no doubt partially a function of the fact that it’s my last quarter).

About 5 days ago I texted a good friend of mine “My mom is dying, therefore I hate God. QED.”

Today I asked Megan

B: “Do you have to believe in life after death to be a Christian?” She said

M: “No”.

B: “But isn’t it in the Apostles Creed?”

M: “Oh–yeah, that ‘resurrection of the body’ bit. But you don’t have to believe the whole Apostles Creed to be a Christian. You just have to believe that if you want to work for World Vision or IJM.”

B: “Oh. Do you think one could get a job with them if one only believed it very occasionally?”

M: “Well, that would be very honest, to tell them that, wouldn’t it?”

My poor dad is very sad, I think. My best objective guess is that this whole thing is not only harder on him than it is on anyone else, but that it’s *much* harder on him than on anyone else. How shall I encourage him? I don’t know. I’m such a mess myself I’m not really in any postion to encourage him. Alas. They’ve been married since … ‘72, I think. Or maybe ‘71. Right in there somewhere.

- Thomas Edison, in conversation with Henry Ford and Harvey Firestone, March 1931