One day a young boy from the land of Zanadoo was walking to church. Suddenly God appeared to him. God was dressed in his BDU’s with a gun strapped to his chest. He looked at the young boy and said, “You will play a leading role in my next mission. You will lead the people of Zanadoo to the land of Tantaroo and show my love there. You will beat my unfailing love into them. My love will make itself felt through your fist and through the barrel of your gun. Surely, I say to you, make contact with ones fist to another’s face and my love will make itself apparent; more than ever before. This loving violence will take effect in peoples’ hearts and serve the purpose of bringing more people to my church than ever before!”
After hearing this, the young boy praised the Lord for he was truly a loving God. He ran the rest of the way to church, stopping for nothing. Bursting through the doors, like a bull through a matador’s cape, the young Zanadoonian yelled, “Good news! Good news! God appeared to me and showed me a mission for us all!” The church members eagerly replied, “Well, what is it?” The boy then repeated what God had told him finishing with, “This loving violence, we display towards the Tantaroos, will give rise to the largest conversion we have ever seen!” The church body than began to cheer taking up the young boy and carrying him on their shoulders.
The news the young boy had brought to the church gave grounds for a gigantic party. All of Zanadoo was there preparing for the raid of love that would take place the following day, singing praises to the Lord and dancing while cleaning their guns. The group was so busy celebrating what was about to happen, they didn’t notice the little girl standing on the table shouting, “This message cannot be a message from our God. Our God would not give us a mission that has the effect of extreme damage and hurt to another people. If we follow these commands of this false god we will be subject to great pain and discipline from God. Our God does not exhibit a tendency of violence unless it is absolutely necessary. Why would he have us show love through violence? Can you people not see past the barrel of your gun?” The girl kept rambling on and eventually the people of the church heard her and rendered her inoperative for the blasphemous things she was saying.
The following day the 20 mile march began for Tantaroo. Singing praises to the Lord all the way through the march and through the raid, the people of Zanadoo showed God’s love to the Tantaroos. All of the Tantaroos, that lived to see the next day, praised the Lord for all the love he showed them through the church of Zanadoo. Zanadoo and Tantaroo became great partners in Christ, violently showing God’s love for others.
My dog ate my cake
My dog drank my shake
My dog ate my pencil
That’s why my homework’s late
This is the poem I was about to read in front of the most important people in my life: my mom, Lorna, Ms. Vlam, and many of my third grade classmates. A thought entered my mind just as I was about to read the first poem out of my book, “What if this book that I have worked so hard on doesn’t make anyone feel anything?” I gulped, feeling the bubble of air going over every bump of my Adam’s Apple until it finally escaped my tight throat. I opened my mouth, took a breath and began to read. The few moments that followed defined writing to me.
As a third grader at Quail Hollow Elementary, I was required to write a book. It could be any type of book that I wanted to write, such as a storybook, a book of poetry, or even an essay (although most third graders would not choose this). This assignment was extra special though because once I finished my masterpiece, I got a completely blank, white, bound book. This was the real deal. These books looked like one of the books I would buy at Barnes and Noble, except they were completely blank and I got to write and illustrate the whole thing.
At this point in time my hero in life was Jack Prelustsky, a poet who writes comical short poems for kids. I loved the way his books of poems made me laugh and the way they sounded when I read them aloud. They were like a chorus of comedy dancing out of my mouth, bouncing to a rhythm I had never heard before. I wanted to write a book just the way he wrote books of poetry, so of course that is just what I tried. My book of poetry titled, “That’s Why My Homework’s Late”, contained 18 poems varying in topics and length, but all were equally humorous; or so I thought.
Humor; this is the aspect of my work that caused my internal struggle. Up to this point in my life, assignments dictated my writing. This was the first time I had free reign of what I put on a page. However, with this freedom I felt great responsibility. I felt the responsibility to move people, to make them feel something that they weren’t expecting, to make them feel anything at all. I tossed and turned in my school desk while writing these poems. Striving to create something that would affect people on some level. In reality, I just wanted people to laugh. I wanted people to feel the way I did while reading Prelustsky’s poems, happy.
I opened my mouth, took a breath and began to read, “My dog ate my cake… My dog drank my shake… My dog ate my pencil… That’s why my homework’s late.” After each line I felt like there was a pause that lasted a year, it was completely silent. I finished the poem looked up at the circle of people who were surrounding me, just staring. What was only a moment felt like an entire lifetime. Finally there was laughter. I was so caught up worrying about no one responding in any way to my poem, that I didn’t realize everyone was laughing. This was not a moment that I was being laughed at, but they were laughing at something that I had written, that I had created. A great deal of pride swelled inside me. A huge smile burst onto my face and I myself began to laugh along with the crowd.
This was the moment that defined writing to me. Writing is not a simple act you do because it is assigned; writing is something you do because you want to have an affect on the world. From that moment on I have written to make people think, to make people dream, to make people feel, and most importantly to make people laugh.
I was nameless for a few days until my big sis said, “Jessi, she looks like a Jessi.” I love my name a lot; I love my family a lot as well. Being in my family means going to church a lot, growing up we sometimes went up to four times a week. I have always been extremely involved with my church. I have gone to the same Southern Baptist church since I was two; I am now twenty-one. You might be asking yourself, “What is the point of this?” The point is I am very grounded and set in my ways. However, within the last three years of my life the ground I firmly stood on has begun to shake; a gentle, constant earth quake beneath my planted feet. Slowly, this gentle quake has sifted out all the dust and short lived beliefs of mine and gotten down to the solid values and beliefs I stand on. I am trying to figure out if I am a living contradiction or if my ideals and beliefs go hand in hand. Actually, two of these beliefs that might conflict are the topic of this blog.
Let me explain, two years ago I lived in North Dakota. I was taking an ethics class and my closest friend and I got into a passionate debate/almost fight about passivism. I was absolutely certain some conflict could only be solved with some sort of violence or war, my friend believed otherwise. She even went as far to say that Hitler could have been dealt with on peaceful levels. I was appalled with this notion. Looking back at this debate, I still don’t know if all conflict can be solved through peaceful means. However, this is not the issue that bothers the core of my soul; as a follower of Christ is it ok for me to support war? Is it ok for me to support violence to better the world? My question is not can things be solved through peaceful means, it is, if I claim to be a follower of Christ can I say war is a just motion? This blog will deal with that very question, but possibly on an even broader level, what do peoples religions truly dictate about the legitimacy, fairness, and ethical stance of war.
