An open letter to Boston

In ‘Atom Smashing Power of Mind,” Charles Fillmore writes, “The great and most important issue before the people today is the development of man's spiritual mind and through it unity with God.”

Although tragedy has befallen your city and our nation, I affirm that our connection with Spirit continues in earnest because it is our mission to transcend the physical world of pain and seek our true existence as children of God.

I stand with you in prayer and contemplation and reaffirm our continued unity with our creator.

Pray for Boston

Viola Liuzzo and our comfort zones

As we observe Black History Month, we remember the heroes of the movement that expanded rights and freedoms for us all, regardless of race or ethnicity. Hidden among the legendary figures of that turbulent time is the name of someone who is nearly as obscure as the life that she lived and lost.

The 1960s were the decade of Donna Stone and June Cleaver, so we don't normally give much currency or credit to the 'average' housewife of that era. The women of that time were supposedly mopping floors while wearing a fabulous mink stole, cleaning toilets with a string of pearls around their neck or fussing over a fixing dinner for a surprise visit from her husband's boss.

These indeed were comfortable times for many suburban Americans who watched helplessly while young people from all walks of life risked their lives in the killing fields of the Deep South. So, why did Viola Liuzzo, a white woman from the Wolverine State, take it upon herself to leave her domestic life to get entangled in the bloody civil rights movement?

She saw the injustices being committed against her fellow human being. The flickering images of Selma inspired her to stop viewing life from the sidelines and she took a stand; she was already attending her local Unitarian church in Michigan and joined the NAACP. This however, was not enough.

Mrs. Liuzzo believed that she was fighting everyone's fight when she decided to go south to do what she believed was the right thing. She marched from Selma to Montgomery to show the voices of hatred and intolerance that the voices of love and peace are louder than any bigot.

Mrs. Liuzzo, tragically, was killed by four klansmen for committing the unforgivable sin of ferrying protesters in her family car. She left her comfort zone, as many Americans dared not do, so future generations could enjoy the freedoms and liberties that we take for granted today.

Mrs. Liuzzo's death did not end injustice or prejudice, but opened the eyes of a nation to what can be done for others. If only we would leave our own comfort zones to take the brave step toward building a better nation that works for all. We are Mrs. Liuzzo's legacy if only we speak out wherever and whenever we can.

Thank you, Viola Liuzzo (1925-1965)

We are Newtown

The proverbial rock under which we have been hiding has been kicked away by the latest spate of violence to visit our nation.

The wake up call does not have to be a political donnybrook over who needs firearms or over whose individual rights are being compromised for the sake of our collective safety. This wake up call, however, does not necessitate the creation of yet another feel-good commission that claims to listen to people but has about as much bite as a toddler gumming away at a chew toy.

The central issue of this tragedy, and those leading to it, is in our minds. I am not saying that this is an imaginary problem, but I am saying that our mental health is at stake in a crisis of confidence that our nation is experiencing at this time. We have no problem with going to a doctor when our nose runs, our stomach cramps or our muscles ache. We, however, continue to ignore the illnesses and maladies that plague our minds. We stigmatize those who indeed recognize and seek treatment for the unseen disease that kills more than just those it directly affects.

We may joke about being crazy, loony or psycho, but the joke simply isn't funny any more when the basket-weaving stereotypes are challenged by a more deadly side effect of our naive attitudes about mental health.

For those who say that our resources cannot sustain increased investment in real mental heath, I would reply that our criminal justice system is already paying the hefty price of delegating mental health services to a line item with no perspective of the toll that mental illness is taking on those who suffer from it and those who become its collateral damage.

I was listening to Dr. Jeff Gardere explaining it more eloquently when he said that mentally ill people are treated more like criminals than patients. He bemoaned the fact that he had to advise families to call the police to best serve their loved ones in times of crisis and serious need.

Could you imagine calling the police to help someone who is having a heart attack? Could you imagine jailing someone who is suffering from appendicitis? Could you imagine that? We are already doing this for many sick people who need medical help. If there is any change to be made to help us learn from Newtown, the change needs to be in our thinking about mental health.

9/11 - From grief to grace

I was teaching English at Robert E. Lee High School in Jacksonville, Florida when the towers fell. My heart sank when I received word from our security officer that the World Trade Center was struck again. I recalled the time in 1993 when the World Trade Center was first attacked and it never occurred to me that these mighty towers would crumble like my heart would that horrible day. The outcry was swift and brutal against those whom we believed to be behind this act of terrorism that killed over 3,000 people. The anger was understandable, but it often manifested itself in violent words and actions that victimized innocent people who happened to share a faith that was perverted by an evil few. Having returned home from the United States Air Force, where I served as a medic at Dover Air Force Base, the memories were also fresh of being part of the ceremony in which the bodies of those who perished in the attack on the U.S.S. Cole were repatriated to America. I also knew that, as a new Uniteens sponsor that I could do something to make a difference in how we reacted to this crisis. Through fate or Divine Order, our Uniteens group had a lock-in scheduled for that weekend. While our original purpose was to have fun, we faced a more solemn task when we gathered for our weekend sleepover. That weekend, we prayed and meditated over the tragedy that befell our world and we prayed and meditated over the world that we were responsible for co-creating with God. Moving forward, I challenged myself and our Uniteens to reach out in Spirit to find the common good in all. After that lock-in ended, I decided that I would incorporate ecumenical lessons into our curriculum. I found a book that was based on the HBO documentary, "How Do You Spell God?" I also purchased a copy of the video to share with the Uniteens. I felt that it was especially urgent to learn more about world religions and faiths because, when I was in junior high school, I held onto the belief that we were either Christians or we were nothing. It was simply how I was raised as a young Baptist before I joined Unity. This was no simple task, but I chose to make it engaging and joyful for our children. We created mandalas, we performed service projects and we connected with other Uniteens' groups in the spirit of the world that we wanted to see become a reality. I also decided to leave my own complacent comfort zone and attended Saturday meditation at our local Buddhist temple. I also attended synagogue in the San Jose area of Jacksonville - and attended my first Bar Mitzvah. These were the lessons and gifts that I wanted to use to ensure that over 3,000 people did not die in vain. Healing is not easy, but it was something that I felt that it was a task that we were all up to taking up as a cause for life. We can still observe 9/11 through enlightening ourselves to vanquish the darkness of ignorance and hatred. This is our call and this is our cause to ensure that future generations will never have a day like was had on that fateful Tuesday. Epilogue: This morning I attended Sunday morning worship service as usual, but was treated to something unusual. One of the Uniteens who attended our lock-in during that week in 2001 started volunteering in our Sunday school today. I am very proud of her for not only enriching her life through Unity, but serving a new generation of Unity students in a spirit of love and light!