YeKengalé

Jamaica and Guyana face another moment of decision. What makes this moment sacred, whether for men or nations, is that each choice has eternal ramifications; yes, some more momentous than others, but our humanity is defined by the choices we make while living, and the best that we can do, and the very least we should expect from ourselves, is that we enter such moments soberly and as informed as we can be by the best road maps available of memory and imagination, understanding that without clear visions of the past and future, we squander our power in the present to live creatively, becoming instead like blind mice running from who knows what to who knows where.

The theological idea of a closed canon is understandable in light of the need that men have to create boundaries of tradition, but such an idea was never spirit-breathed; it was the creation of various councils of men making political decisions for the religious communities under their jurisdiction; which quite obviously explains the various canonical traditions within Christianity and also in other religions based on sacred texts. The idea however of the spirit of God divinely inspiring sundry men at divers times and places to write whether books, letters, biographies, historical narratives, imaginative novels, plays, films or whatever medium of literature or art useful to convey not just a record of mankind’s past but also a vision of mankind’s possibilities is patently spirit-breathed. Surely the earth is filled with the glory of God and all creation, including, at sundry times and in various places, mankind, especially mankind in tune with the creation and the creative spirit, is known to utter speech and declare the wisdom of that glory.

My intention in making this observation, which I believe is self-evident, is far from undermining the value of the richness of the traditions that have anchored generations of Catholics or Evangelicals, Orthodox or any other religious grouping; but rather to raise awareness of the eternal God who never ceases speaking to mankind, graciously offering us in each sacred moment of decision, a light and mirror, should we choose to look and take heed, rather than stumble in uncertain darkness.

While I can understand the incredulity of those whose lives are neatly proportioned into sacred and secular by clearly defined boundaries, I have been worshipping for some time the God  Paul called the All in all, and his son Jesus Christ whom Paul beheld ‘filling all things with himself’. You cannot expect me to be either limited or influenced by such incredulity.

I cannot deny my awareness of the Divine Presence in watching certain films like Father of the Bride (I like the Latinex version with Gloria Estefan), The Intern with Robert Deniro, a modern day epistle to the marketplace, The Watchowskie brothers’ … now sisters’ The Matrix;  or in reading Hugh Thomas’ Pursuit of Freedom, a biography of Fidel Castro (which has all the high drama of the Book of Judges);  of course they are all as entertaining or informative as Paul’s letters were erudite, but it is not the entertainment, the information or the erudition I prize, but that clear and detailed map of value represented in all, that affords the keen student a correct evaluation of self and surroundings in the light of the narrative presented which so equips memory and incites imagination, as to thoroughly furnish an enlightened conscience to discern the will of God at the moment of choice.

I am not asking those who are appalled by these claims, whose God only speaks to them in church or through scripture, to accept these experiences. In fact, my common prayer for all at the moment of choice is that, by whatever accepted source of inspiration, we be granted the common grace to ‘lift up our heads O ye gates, even be lifted up ye everlasting doors that the king of glory might come in’ rather than to conduct the sacred task of choice-making under the stupor of anxiety, fear or ignorance, unduly anchored to past habit, or deluded by false hope. After all, some of the most profane decisions of humankind have been associated with and indeed authorised by religious ritual and referenced sacred text. These are no guarantee that one will find a mirror for the soul or a lamp for one’s path.

The fact is the synchronisation of the Vox populi with the Vox Dei requires that ‘Be-still- and-know-that-I am-God’ moment of reflection. The hustle of our national debates and the bustle of boisterous political campaigns are indicative of a shallow culture still in an adolescent, imitative phase of development, not yet having evolved deeper spiritual roots to unlock real creativity and innovation. We wait for a national crisis to declare a state of emergency or a National day of Prayer and Fasting, but crowd the moment of decision with distracting revelries. It takes time to consider. It takes silence to create space for new ideas. Where are the national conventions and rituals, the educational policies and practices; the artistic experiences designed to take us there (the culturally foreign place of silent stillness)?

Of course, I have no authority to convene the modern equivalent of an historic church council, but given the complexity of Caribbean politics, the disaffection of so many of our young people with it, and the tendency of those who are involved to frame it only as mere issues of bread and butter (important though they be); we must realize that an abiding sense of rootedness and responsibility comes only within the context of a larger narrative elucidative of civilizational aspirations and goals and too much of our citizenry, young and old, still feel that they have never truly been invited to that conversation.

How could they? Books such as Errol Miller’s Elections and Governance: Jamaica on the Global Frontier, Volume 1 and Volume 2 , Kimani Nehusi’s  A People’s Political History of Guyana, other similar works like Hilary Beckles’ A History of Barbados, several still unpublished, some unwritten, but all giving brilliant, insightful vistas into the drama of our becoming, the contextual details of the formation of our institutions, an impartial record of our pains and gains, struggles and strivings, our genius, our blunders, our varied predicaments, our common audacity; much of this information has not yet trickled down into high school texts, or captured the imagination of our writers and  novelists, musicians and film-makers, influencers and content creators. Much of what is learned in school as our history is still presented as insipid fact, narrated with stoic stolidity, devoid of spiritual breath and living energy, insufficiently incubated unlike Miss Lou’s poems or Bob Marley’s songs. And so much of Caribbean history is still truncated, isolated, unamalgamated as a compendium of interwoven stories to serve as a Testament of our common struggle, our common hope.

To make my point clear, I must return to the sacred canon of scripture from which some may feel erroneously I have departed: I have written elsewhere and repeat now that the bane of Jamaican politics (which we happen to share with ancient Israel whose sacred literature we have adopted in our embrace of Christian faith) is our profane compulsion to imitate surrounding cultures rather than consult and honour the God of our fathers. Jewish sacred literature attests that Israel chose a form of government ill-suited them. Kingship was never a divine design, never a God-breathed idea, even though through convention, we now style even heavenly Government as *‘God’s throne’.

*In the beginning, which chronologically speaking was not Genesis but Job, it was not so. A Parliament, or as cited in the Psalms, ‘a Council of gods’, where even the opposition (adversary) had a say in decisions depicted God’s penchant for democracy (or more appropriately, deocracy) and the competition of ideas. Even Genesis says, “Let us make man” displaying the consultative bent of the Creator.

Some only see elections as a question of this party or that in the seat of government; but the larger question is what form should government take … in Jamaica … in the Caribbean? Who is listening to that voice? Who is looking into that constitution? Who is peering into that future? Who will describe it to us?