Author Archives: Peter Sanford Kahrmann

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About Peter Sanford Kahrmann

Writer, disability rights advocate, civil rights advocate.

THE ANTI-SEMITISM OF POPE BENEDICT XVI

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While there may be no connection between the two, it is hard not to connect Pope Benedict XVI’s childhood membership in the Hitler Youth and the Pope’s deplorable decision to revoke the excommunication of a man who denies the holocaust. Connected or not, the decision is despicable and indefensible.

Richard Williams, 68, said, “The historical evidence is hugely against 6 million Jews having been deliberately gassed in gas chambers as a deliberate policy by Adolf Hitler.”

Whether the Pope’s childhood history and bringing Williams back into the fold are connected or not, all decent people worldwide should be outraged. Moreover, the Pope’s decision to reinstate Williams makes it clear he is about as much the Vicar of Christ on earth as a rotted tree stump is a telescope through which you can get a fine and dandy close-up look at the Martian landscape.

Vatican spokesman Federico Lombardi’s assertion that the Pope’s decision to reinstate Williams is unrelated to Williams denial of the holocaust would be laughable were it not so hideous. Saying they are unrelated is kind of like saying, Yes, I know, he murdered 50 innocents in cold blood with an Uzi but I we think he will run a wonderful daycare center for your children.


The overview of this situation makes it impossible to believe there is not a hefty does of anti-Semitism coursing through the pontiff’s veins. And if there is one thing I now for sure, anti-Semitism is a disease the belongs nowhere, including the world of Christianity.

MY FATHER AND OTHER MIRACLES

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The only wrong my father ever did me, albeit unknowingly, was to give me the impression that it was always safe to be me when someone loved me. As a child there was no way I could have known that my relationship with my father was the exception, not the norm. There was no way I could have known that my relationship with my father was, in a very real way, a miracle.

We are all offered miracles in life, if we have the courage to stay open to them and welcome them into lives. I know there have been times over the years when I think I may have encountered a miracle and it turns out I’m wrong. I am not afraid of being wrong. I am afraid of being closed to the possibility of miracles. I can’t allow that to happen. I am too committed to remaining open to the miracles of the heart life offers to me, and, I believe, to everyone.

There may even be a little miracle coming into my life now. Maybe for you too.

Stay open, stay brave – miracles are worth it. Promise.
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OUT OF THE REACH OF WORDS

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Her face is out of the reach of words. Gently sculpted, luminous eyes, Michelangelo mouth, all out of the reach of words, at least my words. They cannot get near the depth of her look, the substance there that makes me want to go deeper, learn more, breathe in all that is there.


Like a little boy I look away, then quickly look back because I want to make sure that what I have seen is real and not a mirage. Her miracle face is still there and now I wonder if maybe I’m dreaming so I try and shake myself from sleep, but nothing happens because I am not asleep. I am awake.


If I am awake and her face is still before me then maybe I have died and now I am in heaven. Then I see the phone bill on my writing table and in an instant know I have not died and I am not in heaven because, while I may not be the brightest man on the planet, I know there are no phone bills in heaven.


So this earthly face before me is real. And I see, and smile, and remember to breathe…and am warmed by gratitude and set down my pen because I know I cannot come close. But I can remember to breathe – and smile – and breathe again.

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FOR ME TO SEE

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I have been having
Dare to dream moments
And wonder should I
In some way have
My head examined

There is the soft
Embrace of morning quiet
When the mind clarity
And heart thinks
Maybe dreams of old

Still come true maybe
With sun rising still
And sweet peace mornings
Mist blooms then leaves
The earth for me to see
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LOVE AND HEALING FROM FEAR

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Love. Is it the all too elusive nectar for the human soul? The base alloy of real human intimacy? The spiritual adhesive that joins lives with indelible bonds? Or, is it all of these combined and even more that rests out of the reach of words, at least out of reach of any words penned by this writer?

I do not pretend to know the answer, at least not in its entirety. I do know love is an overused word that is all too often said as ploy to get something from another human being. As a result, those who use the word love with sincerity and devotion are often not heard and not believed.

In some romantic unions, things have evolved to a place or, in some instances, always were in a place where each nothing more than a tenant in the other person’s life. In a recent blog piece I wrote about the distinction between a strategic exchange relationship and a communal relationship. The former is a relationship in which one person is seeking to get something or give something to the other in part by convincing them that the relationship is based on true intimacy. These are the relationships that dry up and grow brittle from lack of nutrition and either come to a painful end, or condemn the two people to an unhappy life because both are two afraid to claim their independence and by doing so reclaim their lives and thus reclaim themselves.

The communal relationship is the kind of relationship so many in their hearts honestly want, It is a relationship where there is real spiritual, emotional and physical intimacy. These relationships last because they have the nutrition of real love and thus real intimacy, and there is no better nutrition than that duo, at least not in this writer’s view.

But what of those who really do love someone and know they are loved in return, but cannot find a way to allow the experience, even though it is an experience the truly want and deserve? What then? I don’t know.

I don’t know how to help anyone discover they have a right to fully love and fully be loved. I don’t know how to help someone take decision making power away from their history, for it is there that the damage was done, it was there that the pain was inflicted, and it was there that the seeds of fear were sown.

What I do know about fear is that the only way to get free of it is to allow yourself to go through it. It is okay to be afraid, don’t let it scare you. And if the experience of loving someone and being loved by someone is there for you, can there be a more powerful medicine for healing from fear?

Love. There is nothing more beautiful and, if allowed its life, nothing more majestic, more nutritious and more powerful. This I believe. And I believe it with all my heart.
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