the Politics of Turning: a brief interlude

Between parts one and two of the commentary on the second passage of the Long Obligatory, I thought I'd throw in this interlude. It's inspired by this recitation a friend sent me.

to touch the Most High
to touch the life of another
to touch one's own heart
may we do these things always in good faith
may we always be mindful
and turn not from the suffering of others

For one, this passage is amazing in that it doesn't need commentary. It speaks for itself. But nonetheless, I want to give some commentary on the last line because I think it highlights the socio-political project I have in mind behind the commentary on the Long Obligatory Prayer.

This is that spirituality and socio-politics coincide inasmuch as spirituality has an impact on how we relate to other people. This is a persistant theme throuhout the writings of Baha'u'llah. For him, social concerns and spiritual concerns are one and the same. Because of this, its impossible to do justice to one of his prayers outside of the social activist context of all his writings, especially the later ones from which this prayer is drawn. No doubt a central point of intersection is how to respond spiritually to the suffering of others. To respond in a spiritual way isn't just one way among other non-spiritual ways. This is because how to draw a distinction between one's own pain and the pain of others necessarily brings into question the definition of oneself and what that means. How to respond to suffering is necessarily spiritual, even though the specific response might not be informed by what we would call a spiritual or religious tradition."

If you couldn't tell, I'm unemployed and have little more to do than write blog posts, so bear with me on the sheer length of my entries.

May we do these things always in good faith
May we always be mindful
and turn not from the suffering of others

Turning? Didn't we already go over that?

As of late, I've been regaining an appreciation for the disruptive potential of compassion, especially in regards to the sacred trinity of progressive politics: race, class, and gender. It's not possible to simply choose to opt out of an oppressive system. Because our lives are deeply embedded in these systems the process of opting out takes long-term commitment. But one can choose to be affected by the suffering of others. Everytime I see suffering, the question is raised anew. Do I allow myself to recognize my privilege or do I sweep it underneath the rug because it is inconvenient. Allowing oneself to be affected by the suffering of others makes complacency impossible. It poisons the false-sense of innocence that comes with being raised in privilege. It destabilizes one's commitment to arrangements that by justice must be destabilized. When home is no longer the cozy home it once was, then there's no turning back. Long-term struggle becomes the only option.

Sometimes though, there's nothing that can be done. Politically that might be the must awful thing of all, that justice always has the deck stacked against it. In that case the disruptive power of compassion is an even more dangerous thing, especially if the only battlefield left is one's own self. Deprived of public opportunities to make progress, the struggle must turn inward. For some this could be a period of self-destruction. For others, it is a chance to prepare for more opportune times. Stress, disillusionment, and anger must not be all-consuming. They must play their part in the struggle or else be dismissed to the sidelines. Only then, when turning, turning, can we turn 'round right.