Monday, July 13, 2009

thinking more cultural thoughts....and others

Last week, we got to hang out with various old friends who were visiting Oklahoma for various reasons. Two of these friends were Randy and Bri, who work with the church in Dresden and were here on furlough. I think being around them is probably part of the reason I've had Germany specifics on the brain for the last few days.

Anyway, one of the specifics this morning is Joe, our Iraqi friend from the Turkish place in downtown Chemnitz. And what I'm thinking is that I'm sad we never got to have him and his wife over for dinner. I would have loved to find out more about his culture than what he was able to communicate to us over the busy lunch counter at Kervansaray. I wish we could have learned more about each other's cultures and discovered more common ground. I wish I could ask him how he feels about Americans now and whether or not he still likes us. I wonder if he has been able to go home to visit Kirkuk. I wonder if his daughter knows her grandmother yet. I wonder if his mother and sister are still alive.

How do you brighten the corner where you are--in the midst of a war? Forget all the political claptrap, forget the justifications and reasons and excuses on both sides. The definition of war is humans killing each other. The definition of war is humans snuffing out lights instead of making them shine brighter. The definition of war is humans destroying opportunities for sympathy, compassion, and mutual understanding.

If the goal of human existence is to cross the bridge which spans the breach between humanity and God--and I believe this is the goal--then those who have seen the bridge need to be able to tell others about it.
We cannot tell others about the bridge unless we first learn a way to communicate with them.
Humans cannot communicate with one another unless they find common reference points.
This means sharing thoughts, feelings, experiences, cultures, personal background, collective history, language, habits, traditions, taboos, hopes, fears, dreams.
We all have a responsibility to share these things with each other. Not because we're American or German or Iraqi or French or British or Finnish or Chinese or Venezuelan or whatever. But because we're all human.

I wish Ed and I could have exchanged all of that with Joe. He gave us a small taste of his culture--both literally and figuratively! ;o) --and we gave him a small taste of ours. It wasn't nearly enough. But in our brief conversations across the lunch counter at Kervansaray, Joe brightened his corner of my world. I hope I succeeded in doing the same for him.

As always, I don't have the answers to any of these dilemmas. I don't even have a personal answer to the question of whether war is fundamentally right or wrong. I'm just thinking out loud and letting the world overhear.

2 comments:

Aaron Pogue said...

I had wondered if that dinner ever happened -- the chronicle of it lost in the hubbub of an intercontinental move. I'm sorry to hear it didn't.

I certainly think any war can be called a tragedy, but I don't know if they're all necessarily evil. Or not the worst one, anyway. In this world, too often it's one evil or another, and I believe sometimes the atrocity of war can alleviate an even greater one. I'm not necessarily commenting on recent/ongoing engagements, but I still think the principle holds.

That said...I think war has an incredible capacity for Othering, to the extent that you met a stranger in a restaurant and, just because of two sides in a war neither of you were involved in, you were SURPRISED to find friendship there. That division there -- that invisible, unconscious barrier to communication -- does so much to prevent the bridgebuilding you mentioned. Even more than the deaths, I think, that's the real tragedy of war (at least, for a Christian).

thegermanygirl said...

Agreed. On all points. The Othering is what breaks my heart the most. Concerning Joe, my surprised stemmed not from the fact that we liked him, but that he liked us. I knew that we would try to be open to him, because that is a chosen function of our existence.....but I was surprised to find him willing to remain open to us after he found out who we were. It was a pleasant surprise...bright spot in an otherwise unpleasant situation.