I come from the Judeo-Christian faith tradition. One of my favorite stories from the Hebrew scriptures is that of the prophet Elijah hiding out in a cave, afraid for his life, on Mount Horeb:
The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD; for the LORD is about to pass by."
Then a great and powerful wind tore the nountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentie whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.
More below the squiggle...
When I think of the "great and powerful wind" in our culture I think of the incessant stream of lies that dominate the media landscape. Lies about job-creators and the benefits of tax cuts for the wealthy. Lies that are echoed every day in so many ways, to justify the continued consolidation of wealth and power in the hands of the few.
When I think of the "earthquake" I think of the shock-doctrine policies that fracture our society, leaving people dazed, vulnerable, and angry. Here in Maine our tea-bagger governor LePage, with bi-partisan support, pushed through a $150M tax cut last year, largely benefitting the wealthy. And now comes the call to slash state Medicare funding to the tune of $200M, in the name of "fiscal responsibility". These cuts target the poor, the elderly, and children.
When I think of the "fire", I think of a foreign policy of "shock and awe". One that decimates a nation's infrastructure, its water and sewage treatment plants, its power generation facilities, its transportation systems, leaving the society in ruins. I think of Iraq, the cradle of civilization, poisoned with depleted uranium. I think of a nation without doctors and teachers, without an economy, without an identity. And I think of Syria and Iran...
I want to retreat, I want to drink, I want to forget...
And then I think of the "gentle whisper", the still, small voice, that moved Elijah from hiding. I think of Tolkien's great mythic tale, The Fellowship of the Ring, where the Elven Queen Lady Galadriel bids Frodo farewell from the enchanted Lothlorien. "I give to you the light of Erendil, our most beloved star. May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out.'
Peace be with you, and Merry Christmas.