2.14 billion: SOLD!

I'm not an avid reader of financial news, and I don't follow the stocks unless it was part of an effor to glean material for found poetry, so I did not get the news flash that Tenaris has purchased Hydril for 2.1 billion. This news normally doesn't phase me because, shamefully, I normally just write it off as another "unchangeable" in the larger world where I cannot make a difference. However, just today, I learned that the former president, trustee, and chairman of the Hydril company (a gas/oil company) is a current donor for the seminary... Knowing this forces me to once again re-evaluate my principles, to examine once more what it means for me to be working in a theological institution that is supported financially (among other means) by companies such as this. I am astounded by the amount of money that we're discussing here. 2.14 billion is not an insignificant sum, and yet we are begging, pleading, tearing our hair and nails out b/c we hope to acquire a $100,000 or so to begin covering the huge financial deficit our seminary is facing -- and not just our seminary but seminaries all over.

I listen to our trustees' investment sub-committee and wonder whether it means anything to say that we want to be responsible stewards of our resources, to say that we want to research the companies we invest in, etc. It isn't strange or demanding; it is a part of being responsible investors and that means knowing exactly where our money is going and what it is doing.

The 2.14 billion is such a huge number for me, I don't think I even know how much that is. Imagine all of that in pennies, and I'm running barefoot in it...

But think of what the 0.1 will do to help theological education. Not to mention eradicating poverty, hunger, disease. Imagine what the 0.04 can do for education in the developing nations.

Exactly how much of 2.14 is 0.1, I don't know. What does it mean for any of us -- for those of us who have it and those who don't... what does the 0.1 equal?

Greening our church

I just returned from a meeting of the Pan Asian Ministry, where we finished drafting a proposal to the church's board of administration and trustees. Given that today is Earth Day, it seemed appropriate that we submit a proposal for the implementation of policies for greening of our church. I have high hopes that this proposal will pass with minimal objections, especially since I sit on that board. We've had many conversations about the need to become better stewards of our resources, especially since the church features as one of the more prominent fixtures in Oakland's Chinatown. Though I've only recently joined this particular faith community, the church has been around for 120 years (the 120 year celebration is this May), and there is a strong sense of community and commitment. Let's cross our fingers that the board will approve the proposal so that everyone can take a more active part in greening church and preserving our faith community!

Gently, Gently

We, too, began with joy.
Then, sickness came;
then, poverty.
We were poor, so poor,
our children were our only friends.

Gently, gently,
through anger and pain,
love justified itself,
like the nails in the house
during a storm.

Somehow, we created hope,
reliable drum
in the shadow's wrist;
a tuning fork
on the sidewalk of dreams.

- Bert Myers, The Wild Olive Tree

Bert Meyers: Old

Last Thursday, the Bert Meyers reading at Black Oak Books was packed with a very impressive lineup of readers, including the likes of Robert Hass and Morton Marcus.

Daniel Meyers, son of Bert, currently lives in Paris and he flew to the US specifically for the launching of his father's posthumously published book. He kicked off the reading and selected several poems to share with us. One of the poems which really moved me was "Old" from The Wild Olive Tree (1979):

Their children were gone;
almost everyone
they loved and half
of what they understood,
has disappeared.

But the door's still open,
the porch light's on;
a little wind at night
and they hear footsteps
when a few leaves fall.

This poem reminds me of my parents who are now living alone in TX, two lonely lovebirds rattling around their old new house. Now that my brother is here in CA, they feel even farther away, more distant and separated than ever, from their grown children. Whatever it is that keeps them happy must be what keeps Meyers's old couple happy.

Malaysian Batik

Last January, our immersion course visited a batik factory/shop in Malaysia. There are two ways of making batik. I'm not too familiar with it, but this is what I remember from what the artist told us: The artist draws each special design by hand (with paraffin pens) and by inspiration. Because it depends on what the artist is thinking of, each design is unique, making each batik a "customized" piece of fashion art. The fabric is then dipped in inks, and the wax is removed in layers from the designs one at a time so that the fabric will take each color it is dipped into. The process takes hours but the result is well worth the wait. The second method is blocking. Once the fabric is ready, the inks and design blocks are chosen, and the fabric is laid out just like as if the artist were to draw on it with wax, but instead the blocks are dipped in ink and then rolled or stamped onto the fabric. This method is often used for larger bolts of fabric that are then cut into smaller pieces for sarongs or shirts or skirts, etc. The art of making batik is so intricate and every single piece of batik produced is unique. Some of the fabrics available for purchase were in the hundreds of dollars. I too succumbed and purchased a few items. It was not hard to spend several hundred dollars in that place.