Dec-98 - Friends Journal

is inseparable from that of algae or of
the soil's microbes. (They help regulate
the nitrogen cycle.) Living with these
understandings, the Western tradition of
radical individualism must give way to
the life-honoring ideals of community and
justice.
Finally, any attempt at enacting such a
socioeconomic revolution would almost
inevitably incur the determined opposition
of a whole host of vested interests,
who would not hesitate to use force to
maintain the status quo. Thus the need
for a sustained nonviolence campaign on
the patt of its supporters should be seen as
a near certainty.
The extreme difficulty of such an agenda
is self-evident. It is the ultimate disarmament
that will affect every aspect of our
lives. It will require unprecedented wisdom
on the patt ofleaders as well as the spiritual
rebirth of millions. For Friends, it means
finding that of God in all of Creation.
Scientists tell us we have a decade or
two at most to reach a decision and change
our ways. Mindful of my many addictions
to our culture of convenience and
efficiency, I ask myself, am I seriously prepared
to commit to an agenda on that
scale--to a virtual redefinition of society,
of progress, even of what it means to be
human? Are Friends as a body ready to
commit to that? And can we even begin
to act without first asking forgiveness in
prayer for the devastation we have helped
cause? And of whom, or what, do we ask
forgiveness?
I am certain of only one thing. The only
power on earth capable of effecting a transformation
of that magnitude is the power
of Love--enlarged to embrace new domains.
But in the face of that daunting
prospect, I hear the voice of Penn on
the difficulty of bringing peace to a world
accustomed to war: "Somebody has got
to begin it." Fortunately; a number of
faithful Friends are already doing just
that. 0
FRIENDS JouRNAL December 1998
The Spotted Owl
It Is a spectacle never before seen or heard:
thousands-perhaps tens of thousand&­
jolned to rage over this small animal,
to curse It, to fervently pray for Its end,
or, better yet, that It should never have been.
They simply do not understand why this mere bird
should be allowed to live In old forests, In trees
judged by some to be too old, even decadent;
as If senility were become a vegetable fact,
and death by chalnsaw a desirable end to age.
This age declares that nothing of Creation
Is beyond Its hand and ken: all that lives
Is fit only to serve, or be served, to humans
whose needs and wants are without limit,
and who answer to no one as Lord.
Some few sought to save remnants of Eden,
to stop this thousand-yeared madness,
an end that In time could bring hope
for life as It was In the beginning,
when humankind knew Its place.
But the fact Is that Creation Is begrudged,
perceived as fit only to fuel and feed
an age without vision, with few dreams,
but endless greed and grasp. It stinks
of private cancers fueled by public lust.
Meanwhile humanity breeds ceaselessly,
spreads Itself everywhere, destroys
plants, birds, animals, all forever,
on a world once shared, then wonders:
"Eden? That's a myth. Isn't It?"
-joseph E. Fasciani
joseph E Fasciani lives
in Victoria, B. C
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