songs sound different now

In recent performances it's been a running joke, when I play the title track and other songs from the "My Money Talks" CD, that "little did we know, way back in 2005-2007 when we were working on this project, that it would so quickly become dated and irrelevant... that nobody would be thinking or talking about economics anymore..."

Ha ha. Not much of a joke, I know.

Quite a number of those songs sound different to me now. I realize, when I was researching and writing and working on the album, I was approaching the task largely from the point of view of "what do affluent North American Christians need to hear? What do we need to SING? What is God trying to tell us, if only we'd have ears to hear...?"

As I read and thought and prayed and researched and conversed and wrote, I felt in many ways like another voice from the "fringes," trying to call attention to the reality that our fossil-fuel addicted, uber-endebted, hyper-consumerist way of life is not healthy, not sustainable, not in tune with God's intentions for the world... and that it will not last.

And I was trying not only to call attention to that reality, but to articulate (and to find new settings for Scriptures that articulate) the possibility of another reality, another way of living that can be more in tune with the health of the environment, the health of our communities and families and bodies... more in tune with God's intentions for the world... more full of joy and community and meaning...

"I want to live a different kind of story
I want to find another way
A way to live without this constant worry
So you can year my say... My money talks..."

(you can listen to the song here)

Now it seems that what once seemed like "fringe" analysis from various sub-cultures and counter-cultures has become surprisingly mainstream. In my train travels over the past month I was amazed how often I heard - in conversation with people, and in overheard conversations between others - the terms "climate change" and "fossil fuels" and "sustainability" and so on. Mainstream newspapers and broadcasts talking regularly about "living beyond our means" and the hazards of "consumer debt" and the new acceptability (and even trendiness) of "old-fashioned" ideas like "thrift" and "local food" and "cooking at home." I saw wind farms in Montana, read an article on the Amtrak's "Arrive" magazine between Boston and New York all about Community Supported Agriculture and alternative energy sources...

This strikes me as good news. And yet I'm also struck by a fairly broadly held and barely suppressed (and sometimes expressed) sense of guilt and anxiety and near-despair. The two video-game designers from Seattle on their way to a ski weekend, talking about their sense of guilt as artists working on war games (one designs the "worlds" and the other is a "weapons and vehicles" specialist)... The trucker from Montana talking about pollution and climate change and "we really should learn to live with less" and "why the world hates us so much"... Myself, living the contradictions by touring all across the continent (by train - hopefully a somewhat "greener and more efficient choice) while professing concern about carbon emissions and sustainability...

There now seems to be an abundance of analysis and debate - even in mainstream media and society - about what is wrong and unsustainable about our current economic systems and structures and patterns. And there is more and more grassroots movement toward change in some significant ways (the dramatic growth of the "local food" movement being one example). And yet I'm finding it hard to get a "read" on whether we are in fact on the brink of transformative change in a more hopeful and sustainable direction, or whether the newly "mainstream" analysis and macro-initiatives are merely co-opting some of the language of that "alternative" thinking in a frantic effort to prop up a system that is not going to last.

Back to the songs. I'm finding that "My Money Talks" feels very different when I sing it now... "wondering how to make the payments on her home" in a context of so many foreclosures and layoffs and unemployment. The element of "trust" in "I Can Give With Joy" and "Speak To The Rock" speak with a different king of poignancy when we sing those songs together. "To Be Content," a song I hardly sang at all when the CD first came out because I was terrified it would be misunderstood and misused (by relatively affluent people telling others - "you should learn to be content with what you have"), is one that I seem to be singing more often again, as I find more and more people - in the midst of hard economic times - taking those words from Philippians - "I have learned to be content" - as important and meaningful for them. "Take Good Care," which still feels and sounds strident to me sometimes, but also seems to be heard and received - perhaps increasingly - not just as a critique and a challenge but as an invitation.

I find myself cringing at this line in another song from that collection... "may my choices declare... You are the Lord of each investment I make..."

And the "Prayer of Agur" continues to strike a chord...

What do you think? How have the current economic realities been changing the songs YOU sing, and the way you sing them?

What do we need to be singing now?

jeremiah and christmas

Christmas, it seems to me, is the best and worst time for anyone who cares about prophetic literature and thinks it matters (which, I suppose, are two ways of saying the same thing).

Lately I have been greedily devouring Walter Brueggemann’s collection of essays “Like Fire in the Bones: Listening for the Prophetic Word in Jeremiah.”

Brueggemann’s writing has always impacted me deeply, ever since that first reading of “The Prophetic Imagination” many years ago while sitting in a green double-cab Toyota pickup truck at 6:00am, slowly inching around the block waiting in line to buy gas in Cochabamba, Bolivia. (Lots of time for reading!)

His articulation of the vocation of an “alternative community” - as depicted throughout the biblical text and engaged with characteristic clarity, nuance, and unflinching honesty in Brueggemann’s own writing - has been formative for me in so many ways.

And lately, as I have been growing into (and wrestling with the implications of) my own vocation as a songwriter of and for the church, I find myself deeply moved by Brueggemann’s obvious love and respect for - and keen insight into - the function of poetry in the life of the “alternative community” throughout scripture and in our present age.

Somehow this Christmas I find myself responding differently to so many of the texts and songs that speak of good news, and peace on earth, and the God who comes to set things right. In other years I have found these texts and songs to be inspiring, to be hope-giving, to be reaffirming of a sense of vocation for the church as an “alternative community” in the world.

Somehow this year, in the face of so many cascading crises of economy/ecology and in the expectation of escalating crises to come, I find myself in a “darker” place. I’m finding some of the songs I’m writing have a darker “edge” to them (as will be obvious to the members of my CSM who received my latest “delivery of songs”). I’m struggling to find the words. I’m realizing that I (and, I suspect, we) need to learn to lament.

Not a coincidence, perhaps, that I have of late been drawn to Jeremiah, who is best known to many of us for his words of lament embedded in “the Christmas story” in Matthew 2. Jeremiah, “known as the most troubled of prophets,” and “competent beyond reason in bringing grief to speech” (Brueggemann, pp. 184-185). Jeremiah, thrown into prison and vilified as a traitor because he saw catastrophe coming, and said so, and refused to share the cheery prognostications of official-dom that wanted to reassure the populace that their plans and management techniques would resolve the issues.

And yet...

The same Jeremiah who, after the collapse and in the midst of the chaos, did the most astonishing thing, and bought property. Chose to incarnate hope, in concrete form, “For thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel: Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land.” (Jer. 32:15)

An action that prefigures in a vivid and dramatic way what we celebrate at Christmas - Word becoming flesh, God “pitching a tent and dwelling among us,” incarnate in the midst of crisis and chaos and confusion.

... the “body of Christ” that continues to be “incarnate” in an “alternative community”...

I once heard a wise man (OK, it was my dad) musing that in the midst of crisis and catastrophe, the most urgent and strategic thing to do would be to plant churches. Local manifestations of “the body of Christ,” called, equipped and sent to live out their vocation and “incarnate” good news in the midst of whatever circumstances arise.

An “alternative community” that is capable of giving voice to (and not papering over) lament and grief. An “alternative community” that is committed to “pitching its tent and dwelling” in the midst of the very place where it seems there is no hope.

As I read in Brueggemann’s essay this morning:

“... What is at issue is how a griever can be a hoper.

“I submit that holding these two texts together (Jer. 8:18-9:3 and Jer. 32:1-15) may be our most important agenda in our societal context. The vision of the promise cannot be abandoned because we are charged with a vision and cannot renege. But the poet of grief cannot be silent, for the word burns to be spoken. Our problem is how to hope so convincedly and yet to discern so deeply at the same time.

“...It is the embrace of and engagement with the hurt and forsakeness of 8:18-9:3 that permits Jeremiah to move on past despair to buoyancy. Indeed it is in the specific, concrete expression of despair that there come the seeds and possibilities of hope.

“I conclude that tamed cynics and chastened radicals, if they are to continue their vision of an alternative world, must find concrete ways of giving voice to their despair that is likely also the despair of God. It is the utterance of the hopeless poem of 8:18-9:3 that creates the rhetorical, psychological, theological possibility of hope in 32:1-15.

“...If Jeremiah had not spoken the despair of 8:18-9:3, it would not have been verbalized anguish but would have become immobilizing, unexpressed rage... Thus the despair of 8:18-9:3 is not the anithesis or denial of hope. It is an essential “door to hope” (see Hos. 2:15).

“... Out of this I submit a liberating juxtaposition for radicals who can move in and through and beyond despair to a new buoyancy. On the one hand, there is need for concrete, public acts of hope, public risks for newness, and public assault on conventional hopelessness.That is the meaning of the land-buying in 32:1-15...

“... On the other hand, and prerequisite to the concrete public act of hope, is the pathos-filled expression of despair.

“... So I argue it is the grief of Jeremiah that is the ground of hope. It is the pained word that precedes the anticipatory word. It is liturgy that grounds public action.

“... Speechless radicals are bound to be hopeless radicals, left only with their wishes, stridency, and coercion. Grief-filled speech permits hope-filled action.”

(Walter Brueggemann, “Like Fire in the Bones: Listening for the Prophetic Word in Jeremiah,” pp. 186-188).

insisting on vocation

What a deeply moving experience it was last week to gather with leaders of numerous Christian denominations to focus on "sustainability."

To hear from David Radcliff (of the New Community Project), Fletcher Harper (of Greenfaith), Jeff Woods, Stan McKay, Mark Vincent (of Design For Ministry).

Wow.

And as I read this column in today's Toronto Star, I am struck again by how well this writer, and so many others (as I've blogged before), is actually articulating something that resonates deeply with our calling and vocation as "alternative community," as church. The vocation/identity that was the focus of the daily worship sessions that I led with last week's ecumenical gathering (Genesis 12:1-4, 1 Corinthians 12, Ephesians 3:10)...

In the words of today's article by Carol Goar:

"... ways to achieve full employment, reduce poverty, cut greenhouse gas emissions and keep government finances in good shape without economic growth. People would have to live differently - work less, buy less, and pollute less. Values would have to change. The economy would have to fit within the biosphere.

"Victor (author of "Managing Without Growth - Slower by Design, Not Disaster") admits many readers will have trouble getting their heads around the idea of life without economic growth. It's alien to everything they've been taught. "If I can at least get the to open their eyes to alternatives, I'll think I've accomplished something."

"... Something's stirring. It's not a groundswell. But a conversation is beginning about what recovery really means."


Do we have ears to hear?

easy being green...?

In a few hours I leave for Marco Island, Florida (oh, what a hard life I lead...!), where I'll be leading worship at the Leadership Seminar of the Ecumenical Stewardship Center.

This is a group of leaders of numerous Christian denominations across North America who get together annually with a focus on "stewardship" agenda. And this year the emphasis is on stewardship and environmental sustainability. Sound like something I'd be interested in?

The title chosen for the event is "It's Easy Being Green," and quite frankly, I don't buy it. Which puts me in an interesting position for the next few days, wouldn't you say?

I'm sure, at one level, the selection of this title simply represents a need to have something snappy and memorable and positive-and-action-oriented... I don't expect to be fundamentally at odds with the organizers or presenters... I'm looking forward to a very stimulating and challenging and meaningful time, and I expect to be learning a lot.

But I must say, whenever I hear a statement like "it's easy being green" I'm immediately on the look-out for someone trying to sell me something. If you just buy this product, or invest in this initiative, or do this or that, then you'll be "green"... and if everyone did it - just follow these three simple steps - then we wouldn't have to worry about that pesky little ecological crisis anymore.

Sorry, but I'm not convinced. I think there's lots of stuff we can be doing - and a lot of it is simple - that is vitally, vitally important. But "easy being green?" I don't think this kind of statement takes seriously enough the kind of economic and cultural transformation that will need to happen - and that will happen one way or another, whether we like it or not - in a transition out of the era of cheap oil and exorbitant consumption. A global economic model that is by definition in desperate crisis when "consumer spending" goes down by a fraction... I'm sorry, but I don't believe the kind of change that is needed here is going to be "easy." Not by a long shot.

Case-in-point. How many of us going to the Leadership Seminar will be flying? I will. I tried to arrange to go by train - the better ecological choice - but it wasn't "easy." In fact, I couldn't figure out how to do it at all (one of the requirements of my P2 musician work visa is that I MUST leave the country the DAY AFTER my last engagement... NO EXCEPTIONS... kinda tough to get by train from South Florida to Toronto by train in that kind of time...). So I'm flying.

No problem. Wouldn't it be "easy" to arrange for some other gigs on the way back home and work my way north by train? I was going to try that too, but ran out of time and didn't want to jeopardize the visa process (the application had to be in 120 days in advance)... so I didn't get it done. Or wouldn't it be "easy" to just say "well, I have this music ministry vocation, but I won't travel to come to your event"...?

Well, no. That wouldn't be easy at all, and I also don't think it would be right.

hmmm...

Don't get me wrong. I'm by no means "down" on this event, or the theme, or the fact that I suspect virtually everyone will be flying to get there (ok, I suppose I am a bit "down" on that last one...). I think this is good and vital agenda, and a good and vital event, and I can't wait to meet and hear from and learn from all these good and vital people (and all the others too, who I'm sure will be just as "good and vital").

Just don't tell me that following through on this agenda is going to be "easy." I don't believe it.

Makes me think of the guy with the catchy slogan "Take up your cross and follow me." Not exactly easy. Life-giving, fulfilling, community-and-joy-and-pain-filled... yes. Spirit-led, yup. Worthwhile, you bet. GOOD NEWS - absolutely.

Easy? I don't think so.

a bit of good news...

... on the environmental front (Tuesday's election results notwithstanding):

Yesterday Matthew and I watched 4 otters swimming in the pond beside our house. Yes - OTTERS - which, I've been told, have not been seen in the Rouge River watershed for over 50 years.

So the "Willowgrove Creek" song I wrote nearly 5 years ago, based on the story I'd heard then, has come true... again... and we got to see it with our own eyes.

saving 45,000 trees, apparently

a transcription of our latest environmental adventures, somewhere in Orangeville on our way to a weekend with family...

cast of characters, in order of appearance:

BMS - Bryan Moyer Suderman
PPE1 - Pizza Pizza Employee 1
PPE2 - Pizza Pizza Employee 2
MMS - Matthew, our 10 year old son
JMS - Julie Moyer Suderman

BMS (approaching counter with napkin in hand): I see here that it says "We are saving 45,000 trees per year by using red kraft pizza boxes." I'm curious - how does using red boxes save 45,000 trees per year?

PPE1 (bemused): ummm... I don't know.

PPE2 (earnestly): I don't know... maybe, like, because it's red?

BMS: You mean using RED pizza boxes saves trees? As opposed to, say, blue or green...?

PPE2 (giggling): I really have no idea.

BMS: Are the pizza boxes made of recycled paper, maybe? But I still wonder what the colour red has to do with it...

PPE1 (shrugging): I don't know...

BMS (walking back to table): Ok... thanks... I'm glad we're saving 45,000 trees per year, I was just curious how it works...

MMS (at table, finishing pizza slice and looking at the paper sleeve it's served on): It says "please recycle me"... where should I put it?

(BMS, JMS, MMS all look around room, notice garbage can and bin for recycling bottles... but no bin for paper...)

BMS (approaching counter with pizza slice sleeve in hand): Hi there. It's me again. We'd like to help save 45,000 trees by recycling these... can you tell me where we should put them?

(BMS and PPE1 and PPE2 scan the room)

PPE1 (bemused): ummm... I don't know.

PPE2 (giggling): You could, like, give them to us, I guess.

BMS (peering behind the counter, not seeing any recycling bins): Oh... ok, we'll do that. Here you go...

PPE1 (smiling bemusedly): Thank you!

PPE2 (smiling earnestly): Thank you!

BMS (waving on the way out the door with JMS and MMS): Thank you! It's been nice saving trees with you!

JMS (as we walk out the door): Bryan, you weren't being very nice. They just work here...

MMS: I bet I know where they're going to put that stuff...

jayber crow

It's been a long time since I wept at the end of a book, but today I did.

Read "Jayber Crow" by Wendell Berry.

so what are you doing...

... tomorrow during Earth Hour? We're thinking a board game (will it be Settlers or Carcassonne?), strummin' and singin' some tunes, maybe even seeing about getting those new thrift store knitting needles in gear... we're going to need way more than an hour - maybe we'll just go nuts and take all evening... all to the light of candles with nary a volt, watt, or amp flowing (or whatever it is they do)...

And here's an article in Faith Today magazine about some crazy guy who's adapted the "Community Supported Agriculture" model to music, and is apparently attempting to make a living at it...

What will they think of next...

offset this

For my trip to Winnipeg last week I bought “carbon offsets” for the first time. Through zerofootprint I invested in planting trees that will absorb an amount of carbon from the air that is apparently proportional to the carbon emissions caused by my flight (or, to be more precise, proportional to my share of the emissions - 0.4 tonnes of CO2 - caused by my flight). And after my carbon purchase (very easy to do - just a click on the link on my e-ticket from Air Canada) I got a very perky e-mail message in a huge yellow font saying “Congratulations, Bryan Suderman. Your flight is carbon neutral!”

So how much do you suppose it costs to buy “carbon offsets” for a return flight between Toronto and Winnipeg?

$50? That was Pieter’s guess.

$20-$25 or so? That’s what I was thinking.

How much was actually charged to my credit card?

$6.72

Actually, it was $6.40, plus GST (Goods and Services Tax).

I find this surprising and rather disconcerting. I feel a bit like a repentant sinner, ready for some good old-fashioned penance, being “let off” too easy. Like a Wild West outlaw whose reward poster offers an embarrassingly low amount. Surely my transgression is more serious - is WORTH more - than that?

In fact, I’ll admit it, one of my immediate gut-level reactions was to think “Hey, that’s not so bad, maybe I can fly more than I thought...!”

hmmm... I don't think that's the way it's supposed to work... Romans 6:1-2 comes to mind...

Don't get me wrong. In spite of some misgivings and skepticism, I still think buying carbon offsets is a good thing to do. Maybe pricing it this low (zerofootprint pegs it at $16 per ton of carbon emissions) will help more people to take the plunge (and, as I discovered, it's really not much of a plunge. More of a dip - or maybe a sprinkle - in this case).

Considering that my $159 airfare (each way) included these charges added on...

- $9.34 for the post-9/11 "Canada Security Charge"
- $35 for a "Canada Airport Improvement Fee"
- $36 for "Navcan and Surcharges" (whatever that is)
- $23.90 GST
(Grand Total - $422.24)

... I don't see why a "carbon tax" - in this case, $6.72 - shouldn't just be LEGISLATED as one of the standard costs of travel anyway...

Now I'm not much for math, but if my calculations are correct - $16 to offset 1 ton of carbon emissions, 100 km of driving my car producing roughly 0.03 tons in emissions (according to zerofootprint's carbon calculator) - that comes to roughly $0.50 per 100 km of driving for carbon offsets. I think.

So, a question: since I track my performance-related mileage anyway, should I simply calculate the carbon emissions and offsets and pay it myself (as I will for other work-related and personal travel)? Or should I add a $0.50/100 km "carbon offset" charge as a standard cost that I include on my invoices and pass on to whoever is having me travel for a performance? Would that get a few more people thinking, I wonder...?

In any case, I'm not convinced that my flight was really as "carbon neutral" (and therefore, in perception at least, as benign) as the perky yellow font would have me believe. And it certainly doesn't absolve me from taking more significant steps to change my lifestyle and reduce my ecological footprint.

But I appreciate the encouragement. We have to start somewhere.

100 mile analysis

A very interesting analysis and discussion going on in our church community about the 100 Mile Diet. Have a look, and click on "comments" at the bottom for more of the discussion/debate, including some thoughts from yours truly... that'll count as my blog post today...