Doria and the Limits of Alone-ness

She has gone “viral.” The Internet, they say, adores her. She radiates poise and pride. She more than held her own in the presence of the Queen of England. She, of course, is Doria Hagland, the mother of the first ever, newly minted Duchess of Sussex, née Meghan Markle.

Her image is etched in history: the single, stoic black mom of an unlikely princess, an older divorcee who had tamed a rebel prince’s heart, reducing him to a hapless lover cooing that he had “missed” her though they had been together just the day before!

 

But back to Doria.

In a glowing article, The New Yorker, declared that she, in her aloneness in that pew, had done what black (read: single black) mothers had always done, “straighten the mess up” of people around them. In her case, an ex-husband both morally and physically too weak for the regal affair, while she personified “self-effacing altruism.”

That analysis, for the all the world to see, is true.

In the cascade of praises, one is tempted to forget that Doria was, in what must have been the most surreal moment of her life, forced to bow her head inward, towards her chin, towards the floor, instead of a gentle outward tilt, onto a waiting, familiar, comforting shoulder. There was no human echoing, even in a whisper or a wink or a caress, “yes, I know; I got you; it’s all perfectly wonderful and always will be; well done.” No one there to say to her, “you look amazing.”

Shall we all agree that, truly, truly, nothing on earth feels quite as … flattering as romantic attention?

Prince Harry and Meghan basked in that mutual adulation. I half expected them to start crooning, “somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good.”

But Doria was alone. Looking at her daughter or at the floor. I don’t believe she looked at anything else that day. Not the magnificent art or architecture that surrounded her. Not the guests who were surely analyzing her. She just sat there, a bit like Rosa Parks must have done in that Alabama bus.

The New Yorker described it as a “profound presence.” Of course. But she also reflected a profound absence. There she was, a wad of emotions, rolls of history, contradictions, fears, gratitude, memories, worries, pride, love. And no one was there, at that precise moment, to help unpack and sort and share them.

Am I the only to think that picture--and the reality behind it--tragic?

The Bible and governments

In light of Mr. Trump’s nascent presidency and the discussions it has unleashed about immigrants, I have sought to know what the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob requires of human governments.

The most complete example of God’s ideal for human governments is found, of course, in His instructions to the young nation of Israel.

Arguably, God created Israel for two reasons: so that the Israelites may worship him (he said to the Pharaoh: “Let my people go so that they may go and worship me”) and make Him known to all other nations.

Following the exodus, God gave, among others, three key orders to Jewish leaders: obey and worship Yahweh alone; do justice, and show generosity to the poor (and by extension, the vulnerable or powerless) and treat the foreigners among you very well. These commandments are repeated again and again.

God seems to apply those rules even to pagan nations.

For example, Ezekiel 16 explains why Sodom was destroyed: "Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned: they did not help the poor and needy ... Therefore I did away with them." v. 49-50. Ouch.

But most modern day governments are not theocracies. They do not exist to worship God and to make Him known. So what does God require of them?

Arguably not very much.

Romans 13 says a governmental leader  “is God's servant for your good ... he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer.”

A government, therefore, exists to punish those who would do harm, presumably to fellow human beings. And it is free to use force to achieve that objective. So I don't believe the New Testament requires human governments to be merciful. 

And the American government is just that: a human, secular institution, like those of Uganda, or Australia, or China.

There is of course a second question: what kind of governmental leaders should Christians support?  This is where the dissonance happens. One may well have expected Christians to choose leaders who demonstrate Christ-like characteristics, including a near obsession with loving the poor and powerless. Mr. Trump does little of that. Very, very little.

Most American Christians know that they, as individuals, must love their neighbor as themselves, and pay particular attention to vulnerable populations. I imagine many supporters of Mr. Trump try to do that. 

It is, however, undeniable that those supporters have absolved the President of any duty to live by that law. They seem to say, in essence: "President Trump, you can hate--or sound like it. You just do the protecting and leave the loving to us."

Exodus

After 430 years of slavery

the Israelites marched out their exodus,

rich.

No hand had been raised

except Moses.

The night before

Yahweh had kept wake, 

over them,

rapt.

So here I pray for Haiti, in year 211:

would grace not half the suffering

and set a Kiskeya vigil?

Life

There are times
when life 
takes flight
alone,
leaving us in a miasma,
a chasm,
grasping for air,
groping for what remains
when faith and friends
are sought in vain
when knowing
gives way, limp.

It will return, of course,
life that is,
the sun and a song 
on its wings.

Goodness will circle, circle, circle.
The Lord, the Lord Almighty has traced it so.