Like the lightning flashes in the corner of my right eye glimpses of August wander through my mind. I was in Grinnell, Iowa this week. I began a new friendship and was introduced to the Iowa Chop. That pork chop would fill Paul Bunyan! Flying at subsonic speed in my Subaru using my cloaking device (Star Trek geek reference) I avoided the blue and red light specials busy pulling over less fortunate drivers. Mile after mile of gently rolling hills offered me glimpses of tasseled corn and green soybean plants. While I could not see them I knew some of God's people were living just off the concrete ribbon that carries me past them too fast.
Back home I walk in the cool morning (finally) after a night's storm that dumped buckets of rain on my brown, dormant lawn. Scattered blades of green already appear, a lawn awakening perhaps, one blade at a time-kind of like I opened my eyes this morning. Neighbors who faithfully watered their lawns all summer will smile tonight as they see that hint of green in my lawn.
Office curtains brush against my desk and fall back to the window sill like gentle waves lapping against a beach. Gray and black clouds hint at another rain and then cut loose without warning. Water spotted paper is pushed aside as I scramble to close the window I don't want to close. Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain! Outside a gang of children are caught in the downpour, soccer game and time on a swing is left behind. Barefoot, riding a bike, balancing a ball, yelling that leaves an echo in my ears as they race for home. "It's just water" I want to say but I probably would run too.
I had felt the shriveling of my soul like the brown stalks of corn in this summer's heat. Amazing what a little rain and cool breezes can do to 'green up' life again. I do believe I see a glimpse green pushing out of the brown, dormant soul I was living with just last week.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Might Have Been
Most of us have those 'might have been' moments. Disappointed in where we find ourselves; depressed at the future we seem to see; sensing lost opportunities-whatever it is, the moment seems to come when we are down on our life.
What might have been if I had not been so shy around that high school girl? What might have been if I had pursued acting? What might have been if I had taken the other church? Whatever it is for me or you, we mentally play out a scenario that seems to be better than what we have. We tend to focus only on a positive what might have been. The danger is we grow even more disillusioned about the 'what is' of our lives.
Think about some of those less than great moments in our lives. What might have been if I had not survived with only scratches from rolling our family car three times? What might have been if I had suffered a concussion or worse when I fell and my head bounced on the concrete porch in Warsaw? What might have been if our van full of youth had not been running late in the Carolinas and we arrived near the interstate bridge just after a fiery crash?
Might have been could go either way. When I find myself drawn to such moments I reflect on the what is because of the path and choices my life has taken. I have a woman who has shared my life and has spent most of her adult life living too far from her family yet she loves me still. I have 5 or 6 children (depending on how you count children) who have grown to be interesting adults. I am filled with pride at how they handle the best and worst moments in their lives. If I could only remember their names!
I have seven incredible grandchildren who call me grandpa, papa, and pa. They can't seem to agree on what to call me, except when I won't do what they want! Each one has given me moments of laughter and wonder and shared love. I have a lifelong circle of friends who love me even if they don't always understand me. With all of this why dip into what might have been?
My hunch is we miss appreciating what we have done and, more importantly, who we have been to others by dwelling on the might have been. My hunch is you have touched lives in ways you never imagined and may never know because of the path you have taken. I don't know what might have been but it is hard to imagine how it could beat the what is of my life shared with so many wonderful individuals who have blessed and bless my life today.
What might have been if I had not been so shy around that high school girl? What might have been if I had pursued acting? What might have been if I had taken the other church? Whatever it is for me or you, we mentally play out a scenario that seems to be better than what we have. We tend to focus only on a positive what might have been. The danger is we grow even more disillusioned about the 'what is' of our lives.
Think about some of those less than great moments in our lives. What might have been if I had not survived with only scratches from rolling our family car three times? What might have been if I had suffered a concussion or worse when I fell and my head bounced on the concrete porch in Warsaw? What might have been if our van full of youth had not been running late in the Carolinas and we arrived near the interstate bridge just after a fiery crash?
Might have been could go either way. When I find myself drawn to such moments I reflect on the what is because of the path and choices my life has taken. I have a woman who has shared my life and has spent most of her adult life living too far from her family yet she loves me still. I have 5 or 6 children (depending on how you count children) who have grown to be interesting adults. I am filled with pride at how they handle the best and worst moments in their lives. If I could only remember their names!
I have seven incredible grandchildren who call me grandpa, papa, and pa. They can't seem to agree on what to call me, except when I won't do what they want! Each one has given me moments of laughter and wonder and shared love. I have a lifelong circle of friends who love me even if they don't always understand me. With all of this why dip into what might have been?
My hunch is we miss appreciating what we have done and, more importantly, who we have been to others by dwelling on the might have been. My hunch is you have touched lives in ways you never imagined and may never know because of the path you have taken. I don't know what might have been but it is hard to imagine how it could beat the what is of my life shared with so many wonderful individuals who have blessed and bless my life today.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Field Day
Beneath a blanket of gray skies and rain drops dotting my glasses I helped turn a field of grass into a field of fun. Moms, Dads, and one Grandpa looked as one when someone said, "Here they come." I don't know if it was meant as announcement or warning! Single file like an army of ants on the move the Kindergartners walked toward us. Organizer and holder of the bullhorn Cindy was doing her best to turn a single file into a circle for "Ring Around the Rosie." The circle kept disintegrating into spontaneous pools of children moving in a thousand different directions. There was finally a moment of calm as the game began only to be replaced by chaos as some children went left and others went right.
Colored circles on their hands were intended to divide them into what I hoped would be more manageable groups of 10 or less. Of course this was built on the assumption they paid attention to their color. I was in charge of the sack race. Fitting young bodies into bags is like stuffing pasta-it tends to go everywhere. And what child cannot not understand the directions of dividing a group of 10 by 2 for two separate races! They hopped, walked, crawled like centipedes, and often fell out of the bags-most not caring who won, just focused on the fun.
In the midst of the chaos and near lack of any control I talked and teased with the children. AND then it happened. They always find you. The ones who move like a moth to a flame, drawn towards the smile on your face, the gentle touch of your hand on their shoulder, and the recognition that you see them as somebody. I found myself with a shadow, not worried about what color was on his hand, who seemed to be one step behind me at all times. I nearly stepped on him twice. A young girl giggled and bounced off of me with a smile that brought sunshine to a cloudy day.
They always find you-people of all ages that could use some affirmation, some recognition that they are somebody, or who simply need some more human caring contact. I had a great time but I am getting too old for this! Sitting on my patio as the sunlight slipped behind my roof and the moon grew more visible in the fading light Field Day came back to me. It came with a smile for my face and a question for my heart: Am I always ready to be found?
Colored circles on their hands were intended to divide them into what I hoped would be more manageable groups of 10 or less. Of course this was built on the assumption they paid attention to their color. I was in charge of the sack race. Fitting young bodies into bags is like stuffing pasta-it tends to go everywhere. And what child cannot not understand the directions of dividing a group of 10 by 2 for two separate races! They hopped, walked, crawled like centipedes, and often fell out of the bags-most not caring who won, just focused on the fun.
In the midst of the chaos and near lack of any control I talked and teased with the children. AND then it happened. They always find you. The ones who move like a moth to a flame, drawn towards the smile on your face, the gentle touch of your hand on their shoulder, and the recognition that you see them as somebody. I found myself with a shadow, not worried about what color was on his hand, who seemed to be one step behind me at all times. I nearly stepped on him twice. A young girl giggled and bounced off of me with a smile that brought sunshine to a cloudy day.
They always find you-people of all ages that could use some affirmation, some recognition that they are somebody, or who simply need some more human caring contact. I had a great time but I am getting too old for this! Sitting on my patio as the sunlight slipped behind my roof and the moon grew more visible in the fading light Field Day came back to me. It came with a smile for my face and a question for my heart: Am I always ready to be found?
Saturday, April 14, 2012
The Sound of Silence
"There is more silence in one person than can be used in a single human life"-Max Picard. I have been wrestling for some time about the countless words I have said and written. I have felt a growing need to 'shut up'. We are bombarded with "noise, noise, noise" (apologies to Dr. Seuss). I have decided to take a sabbatical from contributing to the noise. I need to use some of that silence I have kept stored up in me all these years. I want to thank all of you who have been my caring critics and the compliments you have offered to my writing and speaking. It is time for me to listen and to walk in the stillness of life.
Friday, April 13, 2012
"Gunfight at the Not OK Corral"
One of my all time favorite western movies is "Tombstone", released in 1993. Set in Tombstone, Arizona the Earp Brothers and Doc Holliday have a shootout at the OK Corral with some members of the Clanton Gang. In the movie there is no doubt about who the good guys and the bad guys are. In a dusty, tension filled scene they face each other, hands resting on their guns. Doc winks at one of the bad guys and, in reaction, the shooting fills the air. Nothing is really settled that day but conflict fills the rest of the film. The good news is the bad guys lose.
As the primary presidential political dust seems to be settling I wonder if we are headed for a "gunfight at the Not OK Corral." The 'war chests' are well stocked with cash, the ads will run over and over and over again, and the 'shooting' at the character of the opposing party candidate will be mean. And I do not think it is going to take a wink to start the fight.
The dilemma I have is-who are the good guys and who are the bad guys? While I have a definite political perspective and will work to have one of them win I am disappointed at the way both sides will portray the other candidate as 'the bad guy.' Is either candidate really a bad person? We may disagree with their political perspective but I will not call either of them evil or criticize their person. Yet that is likely to happen in the media coverage, in the 'talking heads' television and radio shows, and too often in our own conversations.
I am concerned that, beginning in May, our political landscape will take us to the Not OK Corral where winning is everything. Ads will fly like bullets and shooting will continue until November. Half-truths, edited quotes taken out of context, and often frightening talk about will happen to America if the other guy wins will be the weapons this time. When the dust clears and the voting polls close will the good guys or the bad guys win? And how will I know?
"Tombstone" is one of the few films I will watch again and again. "Campaign 2012-Gunfight at the Not OK Corral" is a film I will be glad is over and gone from the screen of American life. The meanness of the current political environment will likely produce a film few will enjoy.
As the primary presidential political dust seems to be settling I wonder if we are headed for a "gunfight at the Not OK Corral." The 'war chests' are well stocked with cash, the ads will run over and over and over again, and the 'shooting' at the character of the opposing party candidate will be mean. And I do not think it is going to take a wink to start the fight.
The dilemma I have is-who are the good guys and who are the bad guys? While I have a definite political perspective and will work to have one of them win I am disappointed at the way both sides will portray the other candidate as 'the bad guy.' Is either candidate really a bad person? We may disagree with their political perspective but I will not call either of them evil or criticize their person. Yet that is likely to happen in the media coverage, in the 'talking heads' television and radio shows, and too often in our own conversations.
I am concerned that, beginning in May, our political landscape will take us to the Not OK Corral where winning is everything. Ads will fly like bullets and shooting will continue until November. Half-truths, edited quotes taken out of context, and often frightening talk about will happen to America if the other guy wins will be the weapons this time. When the dust clears and the voting polls close will the good guys or the bad guys win? And how will I know?
"Tombstone" is one of the few films I will watch again and again. "Campaign 2012-Gunfight at the Not OK Corral" is a film I will be glad is over and gone from the screen of American life. The meanness of the current political environment will likely produce a film few will enjoy.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Of Mallards and Easter Eve
I could not believe my eyes. Glancing out a back window I saw them strolling through the grass-the male with his glistening green head and the female a few steps away blending into the grass with her mottled light brown feathers. Why would a pair of mallards be in my backyard? Cautiously, under the watchful eye of her mate, the female moved beneath my bird feeders and began to eat the seed on the ground.
Days later it was all my two grandsons could do to sit still on the swing as the female landed in the grass by the lilac bushes. When she felt safe, she began to feed. We watched in wonder as her beak gobbled up the seed and slight shivers in her neck sent the food down to her stomach.
This Saturday morning, the day before Easter Sunday, I spotted her as I picked up the morning paper. She was sitting on the peak of a neighbor's house-a living weather vane. I gave her little thought until the afternoon when I saw the empty feeders. Scooping out the seed from the quickly emptying 40 pound bag in the garage I filled them. It costs a lot to feed birds, let alone a mallard duck! It wasn't long before the picky birds were back, searching for seed they liked and flicking the rejected seed to the ground.
It was then that she silently swooped in, her shadow brushing over my face. Her eyes, black pinpoints in a feathery brown body, watched me. Looking at her left me wondering what she was thinking. I did not pick her, she picked me. Uninvited she doesn't sing in the morning or at dusk. But she needs to eat too.
On this Easter Eve, in the first moments of Easter Day, my thoughts are drawn to Jesus who was a 'God-bearer' who came to feed all people with the promise of love, life, and community. Jesus didn't sort out who got to eat with him or listen to him or walk with him or even die with him. He simply put love out there, even on a cross. I did not pick him, he picked me. It occurs to me the Church (myself included) is often more like me than Jesus. I want to decide who can feed in my yard. What do we do with the uninvited?
Easter is about what to do with the uninvited, the ones we do not pick to love but who still need to be fed. On this Easter Eve I hope I am helping a pair of mallards watch over eggs bearing the promise of new life. On this Easter Eve I pray I am helping the too often uninvited to be loved that new life might stir for them.
Days later it was all my two grandsons could do to sit still on the swing as the female landed in the grass by the lilac bushes. When she felt safe, she began to feed. We watched in wonder as her beak gobbled up the seed and slight shivers in her neck sent the food down to her stomach.
This Saturday morning, the day before Easter Sunday, I spotted her as I picked up the morning paper. She was sitting on the peak of a neighbor's house-a living weather vane. I gave her little thought until the afternoon when I saw the empty feeders. Scooping out the seed from the quickly emptying 40 pound bag in the garage I filled them. It costs a lot to feed birds, let alone a mallard duck! It wasn't long before the picky birds were back, searching for seed they liked and flicking the rejected seed to the ground.
It was then that she silently swooped in, her shadow brushing over my face. Her eyes, black pinpoints in a feathery brown body, watched me. Looking at her left me wondering what she was thinking. I did not pick her, she picked me. Uninvited she doesn't sing in the morning or at dusk. But she needs to eat too.
On this Easter Eve, in the first moments of Easter Day, my thoughts are drawn to Jesus who was a 'God-bearer' who came to feed all people with the promise of love, life, and community. Jesus didn't sort out who got to eat with him or listen to him or walk with him or even die with him. He simply put love out there, even on a cross. I did not pick him, he picked me. It occurs to me the Church (myself included) is often more like me than Jesus. I want to decide who can feed in my yard. What do we do with the uninvited?
Easter is about what to do with the uninvited, the ones we do not pick to love but who still need to be fed. On this Easter Eve I hope I am helping a pair of mallards watch over eggs bearing the promise of new life. On this Easter Eve I pray I am helping the too often uninvited to be loved that new life might stir for them.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
"Every Once in a While"
I should be in bed! I watched the Oscars tonight for the first time in many years; in part because I control my work schedule now. That is, except for the care of my life partner who will need me to get up at some point during the night to help with post surgery care. I will never receive an Oscar for the recurring role of Nurse Norm but I find joy in being there for her.
I know many people did not, would not, and cannot watch the Oscars. It is time for confession (the pastor said this morning confession could be good for us-I actually was listening!). As a child I spent many hours playing roles, some in my mind and some with my friends. I was Clark Kent to my neighbor Carol's Lois Lane. Much like Clark in the Superman television role, others could not see me as Superman. I managed teams and made winning plays using baseball cards laid out on my bed. A pencil and marbles became bat and balls. I even kept scorecards for each game. I often think I was born a dreamer in search of answers.
One of my dreams was to be an actor. "The Mouse That Roared" was one of my shining moments on the stage-high school, that is. I sat in Grandpa Boyles' house and was drawn into the scariness of "The Thing" on his black and white television (I really am that old). 007 was a fantasy of what I could do to make things right. And "In Cold Blood" took me into a disturbing world I did not know existed where you might never be able to make things right. Years later I realized I would never be, in the laugh-at-yourself voice of Jon Lovitz, "The Master Thespian." I was moved to tears by "Good Morning Vietnam." I still can feel the sadness and irony of a country visually exploding in violence and death while Louis Armstrong's voice could be heard singing "It's A Wonderful World."
During the Oscars they showed a clip of movie folk talking about what makes a great movie. One of them said "Every once in a while you find the truth." What movie woke you up to a truth for your life, a truth about life, a truth worth risking your life to make it happen? I wanted to be an actor for lots of reasons. One was because I believed I could help myself and others see new realities. The right words, the well chosen words, even the silly words could reveal the truths I sought.
Well, as my readers know, I ended up on a smaller stage and played a singular role. I was not well cast as "The Preacher" and I fearfully stepped out onto that stage Sunday after Sunday. Rarely confident I had any word for others I hoped that every once in a while those listening found a truth. It is the power of film, great films tucked in a sea of silly films. It is the power of the spoken word to grab you and leave you moved to a new understanding.
Maybe in truth we are all 'actors' on the stage of our lives; actors in search of a role that gives life, wonder, joy, and meaning. If we are lucky we find some answers we discover as truth. If we are willing to share the stage with other actors they reach inside our 'role' and pull us out into the discovery that it can be a wonderful world even in the raw, painful moments (I am really good at run on sentences). I should be in bed! "Good night, Mrs. Calabash wherever you are!"
I know many people did not, would not, and cannot watch the Oscars. It is time for confession (the pastor said this morning confession could be good for us-I actually was listening!). As a child I spent many hours playing roles, some in my mind and some with my friends. I was Clark Kent to my neighbor Carol's Lois Lane. Much like Clark in the Superman television role, others could not see me as Superman. I managed teams and made winning plays using baseball cards laid out on my bed. A pencil and marbles became bat and balls. I even kept scorecards for each game. I often think I was born a dreamer in search of answers.
One of my dreams was to be an actor. "The Mouse That Roared" was one of my shining moments on the stage-high school, that is. I sat in Grandpa Boyles' house and was drawn into the scariness of "The Thing" on his black and white television (I really am that old). 007 was a fantasy of what I could do to make things right. And "In Cold Blood" took me into a disturbing world I did not know existed where you might never be able to make things right. Years later I realized I would never be, in the laugh-at-yourself voice of Jon Lovitz, "The Master Thespian." I was moved to tears by "Good Morning Vietnam." I still can feel the sadness and irony of a country visually exploding in violence and death while Louis Armstrong's voice could be heard singing "It's A Wonderful World."
During the Oscars they showed a clip of movie folk talking about what makes a great movie. One of them said "Every once in a while you find the truth." What movie woke you up to a truth for your life, a truth about life, a truth worth risking your life to make it happen? I wanted to be an actor for lots of reasons. One was because I believed I could help myself and others see new realities. The right words, the well chosen words, even the silly words could reveal the truths I sought.
Well, as my readers know, I ended up on a smaller stage and played a singular role. I was not well cast as "The Preacher" and I fearfully stepped out onto that stage Sunday after Sunday. Rarely confident I had any word for others I hoped that every once in a while those listening found a truth. It is the power of film, great films tucked in a sea of silly films. It is the power of the spoken word to grab you and leave you moved to a new understanding.
Maybe in truth we are all 'actors' on the stage of our lives; actors in search of a role that gives life, wonder, joy, and meaning. If we are lucky we find some answers we discover as truth. If we are willing to share the stage with other actors they reach inside our 'role' and pull us out into the discovery that it can be a wonderful world even in the raw, painful moments (I am really good at run on sentences). I should be in bed! "Good night, Mrs. Calabash wherever you are!"
Friday, February 24, 2012
"$4 Gas-Really?"
I am almost afraid to drive past my gas station more than once a day. I don't know if I am causing it but every time I drive by it seems the price of gas goes up. Now there is talk (again) of $4 gas this summer. And gas prices appear to be poised to be the next political fear factor. Really?
It is reported there are gas stations near Disney World charging $5.89 NOW. I don't know if this is true but, in the spirit of the political season, I will not let that stop me from saying it is true. A politician promises that, if he is elected president, gas will cost no more than $2.50 a gallon. He suggests the re-election of the current president will lead to even higher gas prices-fear factor!
I have been fortunate to have visited a number of countries the past 6 months. On average drivers in those countries are paying $5.50-$6.50 in US dollars for a gallon of gas and have been for some time! Oil is a global commodity and we are part of a global world. To suggest we can control the price at the pump by ourselves is foolish. I don't like paying more for my gas but I will not allow it to become a fear factor in my voting decisions. This is not simply an American issue and, in fact, we have it better than most of the world. Pandering to my fears is not helpful to the larger political issues our country faces.
Fear Factor may be okay for a television show but not for our future as a society. Fear divides instead of uniting. The NYPD is in the news for a large scale surveillance of the Muslim community. This was done in the name of protecting the city. Assuming you have done nothing wrong how would you like someone writing down your car's license plate number and taking your picture when you go to church on Sunday? "Muslim", for some, is a fear word that justifies questionable actions.
The religion of our current president has been raised again. It has been suggested he might not be a 'Christian' or, at the least, he does not live as the Bible says we should live as followers of Jesus. Sure thought I read somewhere about 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone.' Playing to fears divides us. Demonizing those who do not share our views or agree with us is not helpful.
Address the issues that matter to us as a nation. 1.46 million Americans are NOW living on $2 a day. "Fracking" for oil has serious environmental concerns beyond the price at the pump. Young men and women continue to serve our country and die in multiple countries. The world economy has tremors we feel in
America. Economists suggest what we have enjoyed as 'the American way of life' will not ever be the same again. Who will address the larger, crucial matters without resorting to playing on my fears? $4 gas is the political subject of the day-REALLY?
It is reported there are gas stations near Disney World charging $5.89 NOW. I don't know if this is true but, in the spirit of the political season, I will not let that stop me from saying it is true. A politician promises that, if he is elected president, gas will cost no more than $2.50 a gallon. He suggests the re-election of the current president will lead to even higher gas prices-fear factor!
I have been fortunate to have visited a number of countries the past 6 months. On average drivers in those countries are paying $5.50-$6.50 in US dollars for a gallon of gas and have been for some time! Oil is a global commodity and we are part of a global world. To suggest we can control the price at the pump by ourselves is foolish. I don't like paying more for my gas but I will not allow it to become a fear factor in my voting decisions. This is not simply an American issue and, in fact, we have it better than most of the world. Pandering to my fears is not helpful to the larger political issues our country faces.
Fear Factor may be okay for a television show but not for our future as a society. Fear divides instead of uniting. The NYPD is in the news for a large scale surveillance of the Muslim community. This was done in the name of protecting the city. Assuming you have done nothing wrong how would you like someone writing down your car's license plate number and taking your picture when you go to church on Sunday? "Muslim", for some, is a fear word that justifies questionable actions.
The religion of our current president has been raised again. It has been suggested he might not be a 'Christian' or, at the least, he does not live as the Bible says we should live as followers of Jesus. Sure thought I read somewhere about 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone.' Playing to fears divides us. Demonizing those who do not share our views or agree with us is not helpful.
Address the issues that matter to us as a nation. 1.46 million Americans are NOW living on $2 a day. "Fracking" for oil has serious environmental concerns beyond the price at the pump. Young men and women continue to serve our country and die in multiple countries. The world economy has tremors we feel in
America. Economists suggest what we have enjoyed as 'the American way of life' will not ever be the same again. Who will address the larger, crucial matters without resorting to playing on my fears? $4 gas is the political subject of the day-REALLY?
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
"What Do We Expect?"
I usually an amused or bemused by comments from television 'talking heads.' Sometimes they are so over the top I cannot ignore the comments. This is one of those times. Over the weekend Liz Trotta (well known for her often controversial views and comments) commented on a reported dramatic increase in the number of sexual assaults in our military. She made these comments: "Now what did they expect? These people are in close contact." and "women in the military are being raped too much (italics mine)."
I know, or at least I believe, she is a minority voice about this serious issue in all areas of our lives. I could dismiss this as an 'out there' view not shared by others. However, having worked with 'words' most of my adult life I have seen the power of spoken words to hurt or help others. Given that we continue to struggle with issues of respect and responsibility I offer the following observations.
One, seriously-"being raped too much?" Is there some kind of rating scale where we can tell when women are being raped too little, just enough, or too much? One rape is too much! One life scarred by such a traumatic event is too much. Where do these fall on such a scale: a young girl is raped in a high school bathroom; a college coed is stalked and raped outside her dorm; a young woman on a date is sexually assaulted in a car; and an elderly woman in her own bedroom is attacked and raped? There is no scale for such behavior. Tragically we still struggle as a society with perceptions that impact behavior between genders. Personal responsibility and societal tolerance of 'levels' of such behavior are part of our life together.
Two, seriously-'what did they expect?" I know what I expect. I expect everyone, male and female, to treat each other with respect! To value another person calls us to relate to them in ways that are not demeaning, harmful, or a dismissing of their intrinsic worth as a human being, a child of God. Men and women, boys and girls are in 'close contact' all the time. Whether it is in our homes, in schools, on sports teams, in community organizations, in churches, or the military 'close contact' is NOT PERMISSION to violate another person!
We cannot, without risk to our sense of being a human family, ignore such comments or dismiss them as simply the foolish comments of someone. I respect and support the right of free speech for everyone. I also expect responsibility when we exercise our free speech. Thinking more carefully and clearly before we speak (one of my BIG problems) helps us preserve our sense of respect for all and strengthens the human family.
I know, or at least I believe, she is a minority voice about this serious issue in all areas of our lives. I could dismiss this as an 'out there' view not shared by others. However, having worked with 'words' most of my adult life I have seen the power of spoken words to hurt or help others. Given that we continue to struggle with issues of respect and responsibility I offer the following observations.
One, seriously-"being raped too much?" Is there some kind of rating scale where we can tell when women are being raped too little, just enough, or too much? One rape is too much! One life scarred by such a traumatic event is too much. Where do these fall on such a scale: a young girl is raped in a high school bathroom; a college coed is stalked and raped outside her dorm; a young woman on a date is sexually assaulted in a car; and an elderly woman in her own bedroom is attacked and raped? There is no scale for such behavior. Tragically we still struggle as a society with perceptions that impact behavior between genders. Personal responsibility and societal tolerance of 'levels' of such behavior are part of our life together.
Two, seriously-'what did they expect?" I know what I expect. I expect everyone, male and female, to treat each other with respect! To value another person calls us to relate to them in ways that are not demeaning, harmful, or a dismissing of their intrinsic worth as a human being, a child of God. Men and women, boys and girls are in 'close contact' all the time. Whether it is in our homes, in schools, on sports teams, in community organizations, in churches, or the military 'close contact' is NOT PERMISSION to violate another person!
We cannot, without risk to our sense of being a human family, ignore such comments or dismiss them as simply the foolish comments of someone. I respect and support the right of free speech for everyone. I also expect responsibility when we exercise our free speech. Thinking more carefully and clearly before we speak (one of my BIG problems) helps us preserve our sense of respect for all and strengthens the human family.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Ordinary Days
Tonight I read Psalm 4 from the bible as translated by Eugene Peterson. The passage concludes with these words: "Why is everyone hungry for more? 'More, more', they say, 'More, more.' I have God's more-than-enough, More joy in one ordinary day Than they get in all their shopping sprees. At day's end I'm ready for sound sleep. For you, God, have put my life back together."
In the midst of worrying over tomorrows, re-thinking yesterdays, and coping with any day I do well to be reminded of the gift of ordinary days. Today was an ordinary day, just what I needed.
Seconds before the alarm pulled me from bed I could hear the steady, slightly noisy breathing of my wife laying beside me. It is a good sound. I went to the grocery store and played bumper carts with surly and smiling people. When I checked out my grocery bill for the week was $74.01 (not necessarily an ordinary order total). Grandsons Aiden and Parker were here for the afternoon and evening. Getting out of the car heading into Chili's Aiden did his best to catch the wet snowflakes on the tip of his tongue. He brought back memories of many years ago as he contorted his face in a mostly futile effort.
After dinner I was in my office at home when Parker wandered in looking for me. He spotted my monkey nesting cups on a shelf. When he picked them up I showed him how to twist one open exposing the monkey inside. For a half-hour he took them apart and put them back together. His eyes glowed and a smile spread across his face as he moved the bananas in the last tiny monkey to other sizes.
I slipped into the bedroom hearing Cheryl's voice-"Don't tell me you are going in there to watch television and leave me with these two boys?" I replied, "Fringe is one of the few shows I watch." Sprawled on the bed with only the light of the television set I lost myself in this sci-fi show.
"More joy in one ordinary day...ready for sound sleep...for you, God, have put my life back together."
In the midst of worrying over tomorrows, re-thinking yesterdays, and coping with any day I do well to be reminded of the gift of ordinary days. Today was an ordinary day, just what I needed.
Seconds before the alarm pulled me from bed I could hear the steady, slightly noisy breathing of my wife laying beside me. It is a good sound. I went to the grocery store and played bumper carts with surly and smiling people. When I checked out my grocery bill for the week was $74.01 (not necessarily an ordinary order total). Grandsons Aiden and Parker were here for the afternoon and evening. Getting out of the car heading into Chili's Aiden did his best to catch the wet snowflakes on the tip of his tongue. He brought back memories of many years ago as he contorted his face in a mostly futile effort.
After dinner I was in my office at home when Parker wandered in looking for me. He spotted my monkey nesting cups on a shelf. When he picked them up I showed him how to twist one open exposing the monkey inside. For a half-hour he took them apart and put them back together. His eyes glowed and a smile spread across his face as he moved the bananas in the last tiny monkey to other sizes.
I slipped into the bedroom hearing Cheryl's voice-"Don't tell me you are going in there to watch television and leave me with these two boys?" I replied, "Fringe is one of the few shows I watch." Sprawled on the bed with only the light of the television set I lost myself in this sci-fi show.
"More joy in one ordinary day...ready for sound sleep...for you, God, have put my life back together."
Friday, February 3, 2012
"Groundhog Day in America"
Growing up in Pennsylvania I learned about Punxsutawney Phil at a young age. I even believed for awhile that how much winter remained for us depended on whether or not Phil saw his shadow. Again this year he saw his shadow and the top hat wearing, facial hair covered pompous men pronounced 6 more weeks of winter. What winter? It was 52 and sunny in Lafayette on Groundhog Day. I guess it is an amusing and fairly harmless exercise that gets lots of media coverage each year. But I know there is always 6 weeks to the official start of spring whatever Phil sees!
Some years ago I enjoyed the movie "Groundhog Day" starring Bill Murray as 'Phil', a weather man from Pittsburgh. What happens is he gets stuck in February 2-Groundhog Day. He ends up living the same day over and over and over again. Phil seems to be the only one who realizes what is going on. One of the lines from the movie I really like is: "Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today."
It seems to me that many of us are stuck, living the same pattern over and over and over again. And that pattern finds expression in apocalyptic pronouncements about there being no tomorrow. Following this year's State of the Union address Governor Mitch Daniels spoke to the nation about our being on the edge of a catastrophe from which America might not recover. He suggested we have time but not much to choose the right path. As states debate giving the same rights and benefits to same sex couples as married couples voices speak out warning us that the moral fiber and fabric of America will unravel if this is allowed to happen. In the arena of the Church preachers and leaders speak about apocalyptic disaster and even end times if we let priests marry or women be pastors or people question the Bible.
And this is not new-we have been doing it over and over and over for generations. Sometimes I am tempted to despair that there is no other way and we are destined to do it time after time after time. What gives me hope comes from what happens to Phil in the movie and the presence of the Book of Revelation in the Bible. In the movie Phil moves through the days growing beyond his self focus and spends more and more time befriending and helping others. Finally there comes a morning when he wakes up and it is February 3-a new day! I am promising myself-in a year in which I suspect politicians, community leaders, and church leaders will ramp up apocalyptic pronouncements-I will commit to spending more time 'befriending others.' I think it is the way to a new day. AND I will read the Book of Revelation for the message it holds: hope in times of desperation and encouragement to keep doing the right thing because God is going to bring the world through to a new day.
We don't have to be doomed to spend our days believing the fearful pronouncements of no tomorrow. We don't have to live in the winter shadow of division, doubt, and hate. Like Phil in the movie we can wake up to a new day as we help others in this day. Spring is coming!
Some years ago I enjoyed the movie "Groundhog Day" starring Bill Murray as 'Phil', a weather man from Pittsburgh. What happens is he gets stuck in February 2-Groundhog Day. He ends up living the same day over and over and over again. Phil seems to be the only one who realizes what is going on. One of the lines from the movie I really like is: "Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today."
It seems to me that many of us are stuck, living the same pattern over and over and over again. And that pattern finds expression in apocalyptic pronouncements about there being no tomorrow. Following this year's State of the Union address Governor Mitch Daniels spoke to the nation about our being on the edge of a catastrophe from which America might not recover. He suggested we have time but not much to choose the right path. As states debate giving the same rights and benefits to same sex couples as married couples voices speak out warning us that the moral fiber and fabric of America will unravel if this is allowed to happen. In the arena of the Church preachers and leaders speak about apocalyptic disaster and even end times if we let priests marry or women be pastors or people question the Bible.
And this is not new-we have been doing it over and over and over for generations. Sometimes I am tempted to despair that there is no other way and we are destined to do it time after time after time. What gives me hope comes from what happens to Phil in the movie and the presence of the Book of Revelation in the Bible. In the movie Phil moves through the days growing beyond his self focus and spends more and more time befriending and helping others. Finally there comes a morning when he wakes up and it is February 3-a new day! I am promising myself-in a year in which I suspect politicians, community leaders, and church leaders will ramp up apocalyptic pronouncements-I will commit to spending more time 'befriending others.' I think it is the way to a new day. AND I will read the Book of Revelation for the message it holds: hope in times of desperation and encouragement to keep doing the right thing because God is going to bring the world through to a new day.
We don't have to be doomed to spend our days believing the fearful pronouncements of no tomorrow. We don't have to live in the winter shadow of division, doubt, and hate. Like Phil in the movie we can wake up to a new day as we help others in this day. Spring is coming!
Thursday, February 2, 2012
"God is a Giants Fan"
When the New England Patriots and the New York Giants play in the Super Bowl on Sunday will God have a favorite team? You may think this is a ridiculous question but I believe God is going to get a lot of credit on Sunday. So it is fair to ask who God likes in the game?
Tom Brady or Eli Manning is going to throw a touchdown pass. As they run down the field to congratulate the teammate who caught the ball it is likely they will point a finger heavenward. A running back or wide receiver is going to break a big play. After they are tackled they will rise up and point heavenward. A defensive back is going to intercept a pass or a kicker is going to split the uprights and, yes, a finger will point to the skies. Pointing to the heavens is for winners and that means the Giants on Sunday.
God will settle back in his over sized "Lazy Boy", nachos and salsa and maybe a beer on the table as he cheers on the Giants. How can I be so certain? Well, ask most anyone in Indiana and any Colts fan and they will tell you how much they hate the Patriots. The Patriots are coached by the hoodie wearing Darth Vader and evil schemer Bill Belichick. The Patriot quarterback, Tom Brady, has shattered too many hopes in too many games against the Colts. Why it is almost sacrilegious that the Patriots have been practicing on Colt ground. Truth be told, nothing would make most Colt fans happier than to see the Giants crush the Patriots.
God is a Giants fan! By now some of you may be wondering if i left my brain on a Caribbean beach. Maybe! God picking sides-how ridiculous is that? God tweaking his pinkie finger and a Patriots defensive back slips to the ground. God moves his right hand and the wobbly pass from Eli lands safely in the tight ends hands. God deciding the winning side. It does sound kind of presumptive to believe we know whose side God is on Sunday.
It leaves me wondering if we are also presumptive in political debates, causes, and conflicts that God has to be on our side. Something to ponder as you eat your nachos and yell at the television this Sunday. Any Colt fans willing to give me the Patriots and 7? I have a hunch whose side God is on:>)
Tom Brady or Eli Manning is going to throw a touchdown pass. As they run down the field to congratulate the teammate who caught the ball it is likely they will point a finger heavenward. A running back or wide receiver is going to break a big play. After they are tackled they will rise up and point heavenward. A defensive back is going to intercept a pass or a kicker is going to split the uprights and, yes, a finger will point to the skies. Pointing to the heavens is for winners and that means the Giants on Sunday.
God will settle back in his over sized "Lazy Boy", nachos and salsa and maybe a beer on the table as he cheers on the Giants. How can I be so certain? Well, ask most anyone in Indiana and any Colts fan and they will tell you how much they hate the Patriots. The Patriots are coached by the hoodie wearing Darth Vader and evil schemer Bill Belichick. The Patriot quarterback, Tom Brady, has shattered too many hopes in too many games against the Colts. Why it is almost sacrilegious that the Patriots have been practicing on Colt ground. Truth be told, nothing would make most Colt fans happier than to see the Giants crush the Patriots.
God is a Giants fan! By now some of you may be wondering if i left my brain on a Caribbean beach. Maybe! God picking sides-how ridiculous is that? God tweaking his pinkie finger and a Patriots defensive back slips to the ground. God moves his right hand and the wobbly pass from Eli lands safely in the tight ends hands. God deciding the winning side. It does sound kind of presumptive to believe we know whose side God is on Sunday.
It leaves me wondering if we are also presumptive in political debates, causes, and conflicts that God has to be on our side. Something to ponder as you eat your nachos and yell at the television this Sunday. Any Colt fans willing to give me the Patriots and 7? I have a hunch whose side God is on:>)
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
"Shoes of Silence"
Visiting 6 countries in 21 days leaves you with a mind full of memories. Gliding on the moonlit waters of the Blue Danube, the visual beauty of church sanctuaries in Vienna, walking the winding, narrow streets of Regensburg before enjoying the 'best wurst' I have had in a long time, the wonder of a rock forest with monasteries perched on high peaks in Meteora, the wonder of ancient faith preserved inside Hagia Sophia in Istanbul.
One memory lingers with the power to disturb my thoughts and stir my soul. It is the "Shoes of Silence" I saw on the Pest side of Budapest. On the Promenade beside the Blue Danube River is a memorial for victims of the Holocaust. As World War II was ending and defeat was near Jewish people of all ages were lined up along the banks of the Danube. Shoes were a valuable item and so they were forced to remove them before being shot to death. The bodies fell into the chill waters and the shoes were gathered up.
The memorial is composed of 60 pairs of bronze shoes, a grim reminder of humanity at our worst. Tourist cameras flash and the bus moves on. It would be easy to overlook this memorial with all of the awesome architecture in Budapest. One young man has blogged "maybe if you were older it would mean more but I don't think it is much to see."
Having stood in the furnace room at Dachau in 2010...watching news video of Syrians being shot by their own government...living in a world of tragedy created by IEDs and soulless Drones I can not escape the shoes. It matters every time the innocent die! It wounds the collective soul of humanity every time we turn another person or people into the 'other' and find freedom to violently end their lives.
I was reminded of the old saying about 'walking a mile in their shoes.' Before we decide there is not 'much to see' in the violent moments of life perhaps we can learn from the 'shoes of silence.' Injustice, by whoever and whenever, needs to be challenged and not forgotten. Unlike the young blogger I think those shoes are important to see!
One memory lingers with the power to disturb my thoughts and stir my soul. It is the "Shoes of Silence" I saw on the Pest side of Budapest. On the Promenade beside the Blue Danube River is a memorial for victims of the Holocaust. As World War II was ending and defeat was near Jewish people of all ages were lined up along the banks of the Danube. Shoes were a valuable item and so they were forced to remove them before being shot to death. The bodies fell into the chill waters and the shoes were gathered up.
The memorial is composed of 60 pairs of bronze shoes, a grim reminder of humanity at our worst. Tourist cameras flash and the bus moves on. It would be easy to overlook this memorial with all of the awesome architecture in Budapest. One young man has blogged "maybe if you were older it would mean more but I don't think it is much to see."
Having stood in the furnace room at Dachau in 2010...watching news video of Syrians being shot by their own government...living in a world of tragedy created by IEDs and soulless Drones I can not escape the shoes. It matters every time the innocent die! It wounds the collective soul of humanity every time we turn another person or people into the 'other' and find freedom to violently end their lives.
I was reminded of the old saying about 'walking a mile in their shoes.' Before we decide there is not 'much to see' in the violent moments of life perhaps we can learn from the 'shoes of silence.' Injustice, by whoever and whenever, needs to be challenged and not forgotten. Unlike the young blogger I think those shoes are important to see!
"In Vain"
I don't know if they were religious men, church attenders, or simply reenacting what you see at most sporting events in America. But I believe at least one of the four men broke a biblical commandment: "No using the name of GOD, your God, in curses or silly banter; GOD won't put up with the irreverent use of his name." (The Message). I believe the commandment is about so much more than not cursing using "God" or "Jesus Christ." I also think the emphasis on the notion that God is our 'buddy' has diminished our sense of awe and humility before invoking the name of God.
I was sitting at a Colts game with my grandson wanting nothing more than to enjoy our time together free from the worries of the world. Then four guys, beer drinking buddies who already had had too much to drink, sat down to our left. Beneath us sat two women. I could not hear what was being said over the rail. I did notice they were giving as much attention to the women as the game. Suddenly the two women stood up, glared up at the men, and marched up the three short steps to our level. Before they walked away one of the women really verbally let the guys have it.
An usher quickly came over and asked the guys what happened. They pleaded innocence, having no idea what set the woman off. Then came the moment that set me off. The guy closest to us lifted his head, looked skyward, raised his arm, with finger pointed up said "Thank you, Jesus."
You see it was all about the lifestyle, or at least the perceived lifestyle, of the two women that got the men's attention. Whether they were threatened by their presence or found 'it' wrong or were simply drunk (no excuse in my eyes) they were intolerant and bigoted in their behavior. God has no blessing for such behavior and the guy was religiously careless in thanking Jesus that the women left.
While the usher was willing to let it pass as the actions of a 'hot-headed' woman and took the guys word I could not let it pass. I made a point of speaking directly to the usher about what I had seen. The men were asked to leave.
I found no joy in all of this, only sadness. My heart beat a little faster when I stood to at least present another side to the event. Part of the happiness of the night was lost. My grandson talked with me after the game as we walked to the car about what he had seen and heard. Intolerance and carelessness with invoking the name of God are far too common. Individuals, causes, politicians, and nations often link the name of God with their behaviors, even when such behavior is an insult to the nature of God. It was a reminder to me to pay more attention to how I use God's name. It is simply too easy to take "God's name in vain."
I was sitting at a Colts game with my grandson wanting nothing more than to enjoy our time together free from the worries of the world. Then four guys, beer drinking buddies who already had had too much to drink, sat down to our left. Beneath us sat two women. I could not hear what was being said over the rail. I did notice they were giving as much attention to the women as the game. Suddenly the two women stood up, glared up at the men, and marched up the three short steps to our level. Before they walked away one of the women really verbally let the guys have it.
An usher quickly came over and asked the guys what happened. They pleaded innocence, having no idea what set the woman off. Then came the moment that set me off. The guy closest to us lifted his head, looked skyward, raised his arm, with finger pointed up said "Thank you, Jesus."
You see it was all about the lifestyle, or at least the perceived lifestyle, of the two women that got the men's attention. Whether they were threatened by their presence or found 'it' wrong or were simply drunk (no excuse in my eyes) they were intolerant and bigoted in their behavior. God has no blessing for such behavior and the guy was religiously careless in thanking Jesus that the women left.
While the usher was willing to let it pass as the actions of a 'hot-headed' woman and took the guys word I could not let it pass. I made a point of speaking directly to the usher about what I had seen. The men were asked to leave.
I found no joy in all of this, only sadness. My heart beat a little faster when I stood to at least present another side to the event. Part of the happiness of the night was lost. My grandson talked with me after the game as we walked to the car about what he had seen and heard. Intolerance and carelessness with invoking the name of God are far too common. Individuals, causes, politicians, and nations often link the name of God with their behaviors, even when such behavior is an insult to the nature of God. It was a reminder to me to pay more attention to how I use God's name. It is simply too easy to take "God's name in vain."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)