The honor code of the military academies - and that includes The Citadel, the esteemed military college of South Carolina - goes something like this: "We will not lie, cheat or steal, or tolerate those who do." Think about those words. While most of us would understand the first part - even in today's permissive society, who wants to admit to lying, cheating, or stealing? - the second part is the one that catches your attention: "or tolerate those that do."
It's one thing to accept to hold yourself to a high standard. But to agree to hold others to that standard? That flies in the face of the "live and let live'' culture in which many of us have grown up. It's judgmental. It's imposing your standards on someone else. Doesn't that go against everything we have come to believe a free society is supposed to be about?
Which brings me to now former Ohio State coach Jim Tressel.
Tressel, arguably the second-most successful coach in the history of the very successful Buckeye football program (behind, of course, Woody Hayes), resigned from one of the most sought-after positions in coaching under NCAA pressure.
Tressel's crime?
He tolerated.
Depending on who you believe, either Tressel didn't know that a number of his players were allegedly trading merchandise and autographs and services for benefits the NCAA deemed illegal, or else Tressel knew about it and decided not to tell his superiors - an easy enough oversight, given that so many football coaches from power football programs like The Ohio State University don't seem to recognized having any superiors.
So Tressel was brought down by something called "unethical conduct." He is alleged to have failed to act when tipped off about players trading goods for tattoos; then he signed a standard form given to all NCAA coaches declaring he knew of no violations within his program; and finally he failed to admit to school officials he was aware of possible NCAA violations by his players.
All who know Tressel say he is a man of character and principle, who leads Bible studies and supports the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. There are countless stories of his helping out kids from bad situations, standing by them and enabling them to change the course of their lives.
Yet, like so many in his profession, either he compartmentalized his life into "career" and "personal," meaning he justified operating in a way that violated his personal principles in his professional life in order to be successful; or else he just didn't really care.
Either way, Tressel was wrong.
He was wrong because for whatever reason, he was afraid to hold his players to the same standards he said he held dear to himself.
Do you blame him? Really - who wants to tell other people who to live their life?
Aren't we supposed to live and let live? Live life with the goal of minimizing the possibilities of being personally disturbed?
But the military academies hold to this idea that not only will individuals not lie, cheat, or steal, but they won't tolerate those that do.
In other words, they are willing to disapprove of other people's actions, if those actions violate the honor code. Instead of believing in karma, that if you lie, cheat, or steal then somewhere along the way you'll pay for it, the honor code says if you lie, cheat, or steal then you pay now by losing your standing in the community, maybe even losing your place in the community.
That's a far cry from the "live and let live'' most of us live by. It's a lot more difficult, because if I'm going to hold you to a standard, then I have to not only accept that you will hold me to the same standard, but I have to expect and even perhaps encourage you to hold me to that standard.
And if Jim Tressel and others in his profession did that, they would really be changing lives.
Unfortunately, when too many college coaches talk about changing lives they mean changing external situations - giving players a shot at an education, providing them the opportunity to make money and improve their standard of living.
They don't understand that the only way to really change a life is to change it internally, to affect the values that determine who we really are.
If you're a fan of college football, you know the name of Cameron Newton, the Heisman Trophy-winning quarterback who was the key to Auburn's BCS National Championship.
Perhaps you don't know that Newton started out at the University of Florida, but a series of off-field problems ended his career with the Gators. He went to a junior college and returned to a very successful season at Auburn where, by all accounts, he was a model citizen.
I know enough about college football not to suggest that the Florida athletic department should be looked at as a model of values and high standards. But it could be that at Florida, for the first time in his life Newton's pure, phenomenal athletic ability wasn't enough to keep him from facing consequences for his actions.
And that may have done more to change Newton's life than all the money he'll earn as a Heisman Trophy-winning football player.
At least I hope so.
Unfortunately, it's not a standard that is often held in college athletics. Why, even in the case of Jim Tressel, the same Ohio State administration that touted Tressel as a high character, education-oriented, role model will likely now paint Tressel as a huge problem that has been eliminated in order to make the argument that The Ohio State University should receive leniency from the NCAA because the school "did the right thing'' in getting rid of Tressel.
In other words, the school is doing exactly what Tressel did: whatever it takes to win.
And there isn't much honor in that.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Boss, God says I need to take a day off!
Did you see the story about how Americans not only get less vacation time than workers in other industrialized countires, but they also take fewer days off?
According to a survey by Expedia.com, the average American worker got 18 vacation days last year but only used 14.
By comparison, workers in France got 37 vacation days last year and used 35 of them while the average worker in Great Britain received 28 vacation days and took 25, Expedia said.
According to a survey by Expedia.com, the average American worker got 18 vacation days last year but only used 14.
By comparison, workers in France got 37 vacation days last year and used 35 of them while the average worker in Great Britain received 28 vacation days and took 25, Expedia said.
That means Americans gave up 448 million earned but unused vacation days. Considering the average wage of $39,208 for a full-time worker, that's $67.5 billion worth of time.
Only 38% of Americans said that they take all of their vacation days, according to the Expedia survey, with most only using a small portion of their time off.
Hey, I know. I have always been something of a workaholic. It helps that I have always loved what I did (love what I do), but that can't be all of it. It was just always very hard for me to take time off, to really escape from work.
The advent of internet and cell phone didn't help. It wasn't that I called people constantly in order to work, but I always took calls from people who didn't know I was on vacation or taking a day off, and felt compelled to help or provide whatever service I could.
Besides not taking all our vacation time, I can't help but wonder if anyone works "just'' 40 hours a week. I know I have consistently worked more than a 40-hour work week. Not that I kept track - and that's part of the issue, because I didn't. I just did the job, whatever it took, how ever many hours it took, how ever many days of the week it means I worked without taking a full day off.
Then I re-read the Ten Commandments.
In particular, the part about "Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy."
If you're as old as me (and who is?), maybe you remember when nothing was open on Sunday. And my father was always off on Saturday, working in the yard or cleaning gutters or sweeping driveways - or rather, watching to make sure I did those things to his standard.
But now, well, even if we go to church on Sunday, chances are we end up checking email or listening to phone messages or maybe even doing a little paperwork in order to get ahead for Monday. And Saturday? Who thinks anything of a quick trip to the office on Saturday morning, or maybe even just working a full day, telling ourselves its only "every now and then?"
In that regards, we've come full circle to the Children of Israel before they left Egypt. Back in those days, there was no day set aside for rest. How could there be? There were crops to watch or flocks to tend. You couldn't risk a day away because it was your livelihood, and if you didn't take care of these things, nobody else was going to stop a sheep from wandering off or rabbits from eating your corn.
But then God went and gave this commandment: "Observe the Sabbath Day by keeping it holy."
I believe one of the mistakes we made was thinking 'remembering the Sabbath' meant going to church. But the Sabbath is based on the Genesis story, where God worked six days and on the seventh he "rested."
While the Jews, in particular, still worship on the seventh day of the week, modern Christians began to meet on the first day of the week - Sunday - because we see that as the day of Christ's resurrection.
And if you look at Romans 14, Paul seems to be saying it doesn't matter what day you worship, as long as you set aside one day to honor God.
So what could this commandment mean to us, today?
Hebrews 4 talks about the Sabbath in two ways: one, in a sense that we no longer try to earn our eternal rest in God, but also that God wanted the Hebrews to set aside a day for rest from our labor, just as God set aside a day to rest after creating the world.
That was radical for a culture that lived by field and flock. Taking a true day off meant trusting that your field and flock would still be there when you came back to work, that nothing bad would happen - the crops wouldn't die or get eaten, the flocks wouldn't wander off or get eaten.
In short, it forced the children of Israel to trust God to take care of them one day every week. It meant putting their faith in God that He would look after everything that needed to be done for that one day, as if God were saying, "Trust me. I can handle this. You can get back to it tomorrow."
"Holy'' means set apart. The Sabbath was set aside because it was 'set apart' from the other six days by the absense of work, not the presence of worship. Actually, we should worship every day, in everything we do, not just on Sunday (or Saturday).
The principal of the Sabbath remains true. What that means is, for those of us that refuse to take a day off, that God wants us to stop. Trust God that nothing is so important that we can't leave it to Him to take care of for one day.
And if you don't have time to do that, what are you saying? That God is not really big enough or trustworthy enough to take care of your work for one day?
If we do that, then we violate the first three Commandments: We have made work our God; we justify it with the idea that God created us to work and is honored by our doing good work; and we use God's name in vain to justify what we're doing.
A long time ago, in the time of the Reformation, we Protestants adopted a great work ethic that said we don't work to get rich or out of competition or for our own glory, but we work for God's glory. We work hard at whatever we do to honor God, not ourselves.
Unfortunately, we began to work so hard that we forgot that while we work for God's glory, we also give Him glory by not working and saying we trust Him to handle things while we rest and enjoy family and friends and recharge our batteries.
Unfortunately, it's a lot easier said than done. I have to force myself not to work.
One more example of how we take something good that God created - work - and distort it.
I'd like to take a day off from that, too.
Only 38% of Americans said that they take all of their vacation days, according to the Expedia survey, with most only using a small portion of their time off.
Hey, I know. I have always been something of a workaholic. It helps that I have always loved what I did (love what I do), but that can't be all of it. It was just always very hard for me to take time off, to really escape from work.
The advent of internet and cell phone didn't help. It wasn't that I called people constantly in order to work, but I always took calls from people who didn't know I was on vacation or taking a day off, and felt compelled to help or provide whatever service I could.
Besides not taking all our vacation time, I can't help but wonder if anyone works "just'' 40 hours a week. I know I have consistently worked more than a 40-hour work week. Not that I kept track - and that's part of the issue, because I didn't. I just did the job, whatever it took, how ever many hours it took, how ever many days of the week it means I worked without taking a full day off.
Then I re-read the Ten Commandments.
In particular, the part about "Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy."
If you're as old as me (and who is?), maybe you remember when nothing was open on Sunday. And my father was always off on Saturday, working in the yard or cleaning gutters or sweeping driveways - or rather, watching to make sure I did those things to his standard.
But now, well, even if we go to church on Sunday, chances are we end up checking email or listening to phone messages or maybe even doing a little paperwork in order to get ahead for Monday. And Saturday? Who thinks anything of a quick trip to the office on Saturday morning, or maybe even just working a full day, telling ourselves its only "every now and then?"
In that regards, we've come full circle to the Children of Israel before they left Egypt. Back in those days, there was no day set aside for rest. How could there be? There were crops to watch or flocks to tend. You couldn't risk a day away because it was your livelihood, and if you didn't take care of these things, nobody else was going to stop a sheep from wandering off or rabbits from eating your corn.
But then God went and gave this commandment: "Observe the Sabbath Day by keeping it holy."
I believe one of the mistakes we made was thinking 'remembering the Sabbath' meant going to church. But the Sabbath is based on the Genesis story, where God worked six days and on the seventh he "rested."
While the Jews, in particular, still worship on the seventh day of the week, modern Christians began to meet on the first day of the week - Sunday - because we see that as the day of Christ's resurrection.
And if you look at Romans 14, Paul seems to be saying it doesn't matter what day you worship, as long as you set aside one day to honor God.
So what could this commandment mean to us, today?
Hebrews 4 talks about the Sabbath in two ways: one, in a sense that we no longer try to earn our eternal rest in God, but also that God wanted the Hebrews to set aside a day for rest from our labor, just as God set aside a day to rest after creating the world.
That was radical for a culture that lived by field and flock. Taking a true day off meant trusting that your field and flock would still be there when you came back to work, that nothing bad would happen - the crops wouldn't die or get eaten, the flocks wouldn't wander off or get eaten.
In short, it forced the children of Israel to trust God to take care of them one day every week. It meant putting their faith in God that He would look after everything that needed to be done for that one day, as if God were saying, "Trust me. I can handle this. You can get back to it tomorrow."
"Holy'' means set apart. The Sabbath was set aside because it was 'set apart' from the other six days by the absense of work, not the presence of worship. Actually, we should worship every day, in everything we do, not just on Sunday (or Saturday).
The principal of the Sabbath remains true. What that means is, for those of us that refuse to take a day off, that God wants us to stop. Trust God that nothing is so important that we can't leave it to Him to take care of for one day.
And if you don't have time to do that, what are you saying? That God is not really big enough or trustworthy enough to take care of your work for one day?
If we do that, then we violate the first three Commandments: We have made work our God; we justify it with the idea that God created us to work and is honored by our doing good work; and we use God's name in vain to justify what we're doing.
A long time ago, in the time of the Reformation, we Protestants adopted a great work ethic that said we don't work to get rich or out of competition or for our own glory, but we work for God's glory. We work hard at whatever we do to honor God, not ourselves.
Unfortunately, we began to work so hard that we forgot that while we work for God's glory, we also give Him glory by not working and saying we trust Him to handle things while we rest and enjoy family and friends and recharge our batteries.
Unfortunately, it's a lot easier said than done. I have to force myself not to work.
One more example of how we take something good that God created - work - and distort it.
I'd like to take a day off from that, too.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Pictures that steal a piece of your soul
Remember those old movies where some American with a camera would try to take a picture of an Indian or Asian or African, but the Indian/Asian/African would run away, screaming in terror, and we'd learn that these "primitives" believed that by taking their picture, the "magic box'' took a piece of their soul?
Remember?
No?
Well, let's just pretend that you do.
Anyway, it seems to me that these "primatives'' might have been on to something.
Stick with me.
Let's say I take a picture of a loin-clothe wearing, spear-carrying, flesh-eating pygmy while on safari in Africa (and I mean loin-clothe wearing, spear-carrying, flesh-eating in the nicest way possible!).
I show you that picture. You say, "Wow! He looks mean/cute/bored/in love! That must have been quite a trip. Tell me about it."
And so the picture of the pygmy turns an actual live pygmy into an object. He's no longer a real person, but a thing - an object of curiosity that I saw while on vacation, or maybe he becomes a cause as I return home determined to bring tennis shoes to the Pygmies of Africa.
In other words, he becomes less of a real person with emotions and feelings and a soul and more of an inanimate "thing."
In my last blog ("Globally Positioned Somewhere ... But Where?"), I talked about how my grandmother used to assign gender and personality to inanimate objects like her toaster or favorite chair.
Then it occurred to me how often we do just the opposite: we turn people with gender and personality into inanimate objects.
And nowhere is this more obvious than with porn.
(Wow, I bet you never saw that coming!)
It doesn't matter that the men and women of porn choose to become objects used by purchasers of porn in the same way you or I might use a lawn mower or toaster or pencil.
(Wait. Don't take that too literally. I'm not suggesting you or I use lawn mowers the same way some people use porn - unless you do. I don't. I absolutely respect my lawn mower because he has feelings and a unique personality and makes me laugh while cutting the grass. He's much more fun than my toaster, whose personality is unpredictable - either 'up' or 'down').
The truth is, our society does a lot to objectify people and turn them into objects. And there is apparently pretty good money in allowing yourself to become an object, particularly an object that other people can use for their own gratification.
And while those people that allow themselves to become objects may not think of themselves as impersonal objects, most of us don't care what they think. All we know is that person has been photographed or filmed in some manner that causes us to see them not as some one but as some thing.
And that's just wrong.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not assuming responsibility for what anyone else chooses to do. But I am assuming responsibility for how I view other people, no matter how they view themselves.
And I do think I have a responsibility to always see people as, well, people. With emotions, personality, souls.
(Hello, my name is Ray, and I'm addicted to italics).
Even if they don't care how the rest of the world sees them - maybe they like (there I go again) being viewed as objects, like lawn mowers and toasters (albeit undressed lawn mowers and toasters), I should not see them as they see themselves, but as for the worth that each individual was created with (a phrase that makes me sound like a Miss America contestant).
You know - we hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator .... yeah, yeah.
Here's the deal, though: the more we view these images, the more we - and by 'we' I really mean "men" - become susceptible to stop seeing women as human beings and start seeing them as soulless objects that are supposed to be there to give us what we want in the same kind of self-absorbed, self-satisfaction seeking mentality that we get from the pictures.
See?
Pictures really do have a way of stealing a person's soul.
Remember?
No?
Well, let's just pretend that you do.
Anyway, it seems to me that these "primatives'' might have been on to something.
Stick with me.
Let's say I take a picture of a loin-clothe wearing, spear-carrying, flesh-eating pygmy while on safari in Africa (and I mean loin-clothe wearing, spear-carrying, flesh-eating in the nicest way possible!).
I show you that picture. You say, "Wow! He looks mean/cute/bored/in love! That must have been quite a trip. Tell me about it."
And so the picture of the pygmy turns an actual live pygmy into an object. He's no longer a real person, but a thing - an object of curiosity that I saw while on vacation, or maybe he becomes a cause as I return home determined to bring tennis shoes to the Pygmies of Africa.
In other words, he becomes less of a real person with emotions and feelings and a soul and more of an inanimate "thing."
In my last blog ("Globally Positioned Somewhere ... But Where?"), I talked about how my grandmother used to assign gender and personality to inanimate objects like her toaster or favorite chair.
Then it occurred to me how often we do just the opposite: we turn people with gender and personality into inanimate objects.
And nowhere is this more obvious than with porn.
(Wow, I bet you never saw that coming!)
It doesn't matter that the men and women of porn choose to become objects used by purchasers of porn in the same way you or I might use a lawn mower or toaster or pencil.
(Wait. Don't take that too literally. I'm not suggesting you or I use lawn mowers the same way some people use porn - unless you do. I don't. I absolutely respect my lawn mower because he has feelings and a unique personality and makes me laugh while cutting the grass. He's much more fun than my toaster, whose personality is unpredictable - either 'up' or 'down').
The truth is, our society does a lot to objectify people and turn them into objects. And there is apparently pretty good money in allowing yourself to become an object, particularly an object that other people can use for their own gratification.
And while those people that allow themselves to become objects may not think of themselves as impersonal objects, most of us don't care what they think. All we know is that person has been photographed or filmed in some manner that causes us to see them not as some one but as some thing.
And that's just wrong.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not assuming responsibility for what anyone else chooses to do. But I am assuming responsibility for how I view other people, no matter how they view themselves.
And I do think I have a responsibility to always see people as, well, people. With emotions, personality, souls.
(Hello, my name is Ray, and I'm addicted to italics).
Even if they don't care how the rest of the world sees them - maybe they like (there I go again) being viewed as objects, like lawn mowers and toasters (albeit undressed lawn mowers and toasters), I should not see them as they see themselves, but as for the worth that each individual was created with (a phrase that makes me sound like a Miss America contestant).
You know - we hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator .... yeah, yeah.
Here's the deal, though: the more we view these images, the more we - and by 'we' I really mean "men" - become susceptible to stop seeing women as human beings and start seeing them as soulless objects that are supposed to be there to give us what we want in the same kind of self-absorbed, self-satisfaction seeking mentality that we get from the pictures.
See?
Pictures really do have a way of stealing a person's soul.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
GPS: Globally Positioned Somewhere ... but where?
I have the dumbest GPS in the world.
The Trophy Wife laughs when I say that. She loves to remind me that the GPS is not a thinking, feeling being, but a machine that is only as good as the information programmed into it.
But I come from a long line of Southern-folk who know everything has a personality. My grandmother, Lassie Wheeler Smith, knew the gender of every object in her house and its emotional state at any given moment in time. After getting a poorly cooked piece of toast, she might say, "Ah, poor toaster; he's just tired right now." Or as she sat in her old chair on the back porch she might pat it lovingly and say, "She's been a good friend all these years and never asked for anything."
I admit to being afflicted with assigning personality to inanimate objects myself.
But anyway, I do have the dumbest GPS system in the world.
For example, the other night I was driving back to Birmingham, heading up I-65, and the interstate was closed. I pressed the "detour'' button, and was given an alternate route. The first option had me take a right turn here to be followed by an immediate left, only the 'right' was a dead end and there was no left turn to take.
So I hit 'detour' again, and the GPS took me further down the road, a couple turns, and eventually brought me back to I-65 a few miles behind where I'd been forced to exit about a half-hour before!
Another time, I needed an auto parts store. The GPS has a system where you can type in the kind of place you're looking for and it gives you options, from the closest to the furthest away. In this case, it gave me an auto parts store less than a mile away, and I followed the directions perfectly - to a vacant lot. And the despite the GPS saying over and over, "you've arrived at your destination,'' there was nothing there.
It occurs to me there is a greater lesson here.
You can know where you want to go, and you can get directions on how to get there and follow them, step by step, turn by turn, as fervently and faithfully and devoutly as humanly possible, with no error or deviation.
But in the end, you're only as good as your guide.
If it's a GPS, it is annoying, but no big deal. In the case of going to Birmingham, I simply relied on what I'd learned over the years and found to be true: that Birmingham was north of where I was, that highway 31 should run parallel to the interstate, just a few miles to the west of where I was, and if I found highway 31 I could get to Birmingham.
And it worked, despite my GPS continually saying, "Turn right ... turn around .... turn left .... recalculating," I ignored it and went on with what I knew, based on past experience, to be right.
This is true on a lot of levels. And reminds us that it's not how committed you are to a path, how faithfully you follow the directions, how fervently you believe, in the end, if it's not the truth, you wind up standing in front of an empty lot in Gulfport, Mississippi, listening to an automated voice saying, "you've arrived at your destination,'' asking yourself, "What do I do now?''
The Trophy Wife laughs when I say that. She loves to remind me that the GPS is not a thinking, feeling being, but a machine that is only as good as the information programmed into it.
But I come from a long line of Southern-folk who know everything has a personality. My grandmother, Lassie Wheeler Smith, knew the gender of every object in her house and its emotional state at any given moment in time. After getting a poorly cooked piece of toast, she might say, "Ah, poor toaster; he's just tired right now." Or as she sat in her old chair on the back porch she might pat it lovingly and say, "She's been a good friend all these years and never asked for anything."
I admit to being afflicted with assigning personality to inanimate objects myself.
But anyway, I do have the dumbest GPS system in the world.
For example, the other night I was driving back to Birmingham, heading up I-65, and the interstate was closed. I pressed the "detour'' button, and was given an alternate route. The first option had me take a right turn here to be followed by an immediate left, only the 'right' was a dead end and there was no left turn to take.
So I hit 'detour' again, and the GPS took me further down the road, a couple turns, and eventually brought me back to I-65 a few miles behind where I'd been forced to exit about a half-hour before!
Another time, I needed an auto parts store. The GPS has a system where you can type in the kind of place you're looking for and it gives you options, from the closest to the furthest away. In this case, it gave me an auto parts store less than a mile away, and I followed the directions perfectly - to a vacant lot. And the despite the GPS saying over and over, "you've arrived at your destination,'' there was nothing there.
It occurs to me there is a greater lesson here.
You can know where you want to go, and you can get directions on how to get there and follow them, step by step, turn by turn, as fervently and faithfully and devoutly as humanly possible, with no error or deviation.
But in the end, you're only as good as your guide.
If it's a GPS, it is annoying, but no big deal. In the case of going to Birmingham, I simply relied on what I'd learned over the years and found to be true: that Birmingham was north of where I was, that highway 31 should run parallel to the interstate, just a few miles to the west of where I was, and if I found highway 31 I could get to Birmingham.
And it worked, despite my GPS continually saying, "Turn right ... turn around .... turn left .... recalculating," I ignored it and went on with what I knew, based on past experience, to be right.
This is true on a lot of levels. And reminds us that it's not how committed you are to a path, how faithfully you follow the directions, how fervently you believe, in the end, if it's not the truth, you wind up standing in front of an empty lot in Gulfport, Mississippi, listening to an automated voice saying, "you've arrived at your destination,'' asking yourself, "What do I do now?''
Monday, May 23, 2011
Rapture: relief and regret
Six o'clock Saturday came and went with a mixture of relief and regret.
Unless you managed to stay away from the popular media over the last week, you probably realize that a radio preacher from California made a lot of headlines by predicting the rapture - Christ's return for his followers, followed by the 'end of the world' - was going to take place at 6 p.m., May 21.
According to this misguided Biblical scholar, he somehow figured out that May 21 at 6 p.m. was exactly 7,000 years since Noah's family was shut up in the Ark and God destroyed the earth by rain, saving only Noah, Noah's family, and two of every kind of creature (male and female), from which God re-populated the earth.
Over the years, those of us who have grown up around the Church have heard many such men who have gone to great lengths to interpret the mysteries of the Bible, interpreting visions and signs and numbers and dreams and proclaiming they knew exactly what it all meant.
And of course always, these visions from the Bible were coming to pass in our current time because it all "fit." In high school, I can remember attending this one (at the time) highly thought of "prophecy conference" in which all of Revelation was explained with Russia and China and the United States and Israel and Europe all assigned parts in the revelation.
As convincing as these men were, even in high school I remember thinking that these same scriptures have been interpreted by priests and preachers and would-be prophets for a thousand years, all of them finding ways to apply it to the period in which they lived.
Just a few: Pope Innocent III predicted the end of the world in 1284; in the 1500s an English "prophetess'' known as Mother Shipton predicted the end would come in 1881; the "Millerites" predicted March 21, 1844; and of course the Jehovah Witnesses have predicted end times in 1914, 1915, 1918, 1920, 1941, 1975, and 1994.
So far, they've all been wrong - just like Saturday.
An awful lot of people have spent an awful lot of time trying to decipher the "hidden codes'' of the Bible - "codes'' that I just don't think exist.
I base this on the fact that Jesus (the one who is predicted to return) knew the Scriptures as well as anybody who ever lived. He was able to discuss them as a boy with the priests in the Temple and amaze them. He told his followers about his own future in terms of prophecy, referring to things like the "sign of Jonah."
Yet when asked about the second coming, Jesus said He didn't know, that (in Mark 13), "... about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.''
Why would Jesus say He hadn't been able to discern a clue about the Second Coming with his knowledge of prophecy, but somehow far less divine men and women have been given the insight denied to the Son of God Himself?
Somehow, I think the Bible wasn't given to us to confuse us, but rather to reveal God. And somehow I don't think God is hiding in mathmatics or obscure numbers.
My brother tells the story of being in Bible College and playing basketball late one night in the school gym. The janitor came in and while my brother and his friends finished their pick-up game, sat to the side reading his old Bible, waiting to lock up. When my brother was finished, they came over to thank the old man for letting them finish the game and, being Bible students, asked, "What are you reading?"
The old man replied that he was reading the Book of Revelation.
One of the students, possibly a bit full of himself, said, "That book is so full of visions and dragons and numbers and lampstands - do you understand what you're reading?''
To which the old man said, "Yes."
"Well," the Bible student said, "please tell us."
The old man looked up and said, "It means that in the end, Jesus wins."
Which is the bottom line to it all. Whenever the time, we do believe that in the end, Jesus wins.
So while I'm certainly pleased to still be here on earth, with my family and friends - after all, the longer God tarries the more opportunity there is for more people to get it right - there was a part of me that couldn't help but be a bit sad.
I mean, if I believe - as I do - that we were meant for a different relationship and created to live in a different environment, a relationship and environment that can't happen until Jesus comes back; if I believe - as I do - that the Saints who have left us are alive and that we will see them again one day; if I hope - as I do - that one day I'll understand why this life is the way it has been, then how could I not look forward to that day?
Meanwhile, I have no doubt we'll continue to hear prediction and prophecy, interpretation and insight.
One day, one of them will be right.
Because in the end, Jesus wins.
That much I do believe.
Unless you managed to stay away from the popular media over the last week, you probably realize that a radio preacher from California made a lot of headlines by predicting the rapture - Christ's return for his followers, followed by the 'end of the world' - was going to take place at 6 p.m., May 21.
According to this misguided Biblical scholar, he somehow figured out that May 21 at 6 p.m. was exactly 7,000 years since Noah's family was shut up in the Ark and God destroyed the earth by rain, saving only Noah, Noah's family, and two of every kind of creature (male and female), from which God re-populated the earth.
Over the years, those of us who have grown up around the Church have heard many such men who have gone to great lengths to interpret the mysteries of the Bible, interpreting visions and signs and numbers and dreams and proclaiming they knew exactly what it all meant.
And of course always, these visions from the Bible were coming to pass in our current time because it all "fit." In high school, I can remember attending this one (at the time) highly thought of "prophecy conference" in which all of Revelation was explained with Russia and China and the United States and Israel and Europe all assigned parts in the revelation.
As convincing as these men were, even in high school I remember thinking that these same scriptures have been interpreted by priests and preachers and would-be prophets for a thousand years, all of them finding ways to apply it to the period in which they lived.
Just a few: Pope Innocent III predicted the end of the world in 1284; in the 1500s an English "prophetess'' known as Mother Shipton predicted the end would come in 1881; the "Millerites" predicted March 21, 1844; and of course the Jehovah Witnesses have predicted end times in 1914, 1915, 1918, 1920, 1941, 1975, and 1994.
So far, they've all been wrong - just like Saturday.
An awful lot of people have spent an awful lot of time trying to decipher the "hidden codes'' of the Bible - "codes'' that I just don't think exist.
I base this on the fact that Jesus (the one who is predicted to return) knew the Scriptures as well as anybody who ever lived. He was able to discuss them as a boy with the priests in the Temple and amaze them. He told his followers about his own future in terms of prophecy, referring to things like the "sign of Jonah."
Yet when asked about the second coming, Jesus said He didn't know, that (in Mark 13), "... about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.''
Why would Jesus say He hadn't been able to discern a clue about the Second Coming with his knowledge of prophecy, but somehow far less divine men and women have been given the insight denied to the Son of God Himself?
Somehow, I think the Bible wasn't given to us to confuse us, but rather to reveal God. And somehow I don't think God is hiding in mathmatics or obscure numbers.
My brother tells the story of being in Bible College and playing basketball late one night in the school gym. The janitor came in and while my brother and his friends finished their pick-up game, sat to the side reading his old Bible, waiting to lock up. When my brother was finished, they came over to thank the old man for letting them finish the game and, being Bible students, asked, "What are you reading?"
The old man replied that he was reading the Book of Revelation.
One of the students, possibly a bit full of himself, said, "That book is so full of visions and dragons and numbers and lampstands - do you understand what you're reading?''
To which the old man said, "Yes."
"Well," the Bible student said, "please tell us."
The old man looked up and said, "It means that in the end, Jesus wins."
Which is the bottom line to it all. Whenever the time, we do believe that in the end, Jesus wins.
So while I'm certainly pleased to still be here on earth, with my family and friends - after all, the longer God tarries the more opportunity there is for more people to get it right - there was a part of me that couldn't help but be a bit sad.
I mean, if I believe - as I do - that we were meant for a different relationship and created to live in a different environment, a relationship and environment that can't happen until Jesus comes back; if I believe - as I do - that the Saints who have left us are alive and that we will see them again one day; if I hope - as I do - that one day I'll understand why this life is the way it has been, then how could I not look forward to that day?
Meanwhile, I have no doubt we'll continue to hear prediction and prophecy, interpretation and insight.
One day, one of them will be right.
Because in the end, Jesus wins.
That much I do believe.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
The McDonald's of college football
It is perhaps the most successful franchise in history: McDonald's.
But a lot of people feel like what McDonald's does is not fair. Some 550 "health experts" accused the company of ignoring the impact it has on children, saying "McDonalds ... has refused to address the dangerous toll that fast food and predatory marketing is taking on our kids."
McDonalds says it is proud of the job it is doing and of the food it is offering. And judging by the response - McDonald's shares have risen 120-percent in the last five years, the company has returned billions of dollars to investors, and sales are consistently up - it's hard to argue with the company formula.
But of course some people want the government to get involved, and straighten McDonald's out by forcing the company to be "responsible'' - by their standard - in the way it does business.
If you think that's silly, that McDonald's wouldn't be successful if it didn't give people what they wanted, and it's none of the governments' or these "health experts" business what McDonald's does as long as its investors and supporters are happy, then let me ask you this:
What's the difference between McDonald's and the BCS (Bowl Championship Series)?
The BCS is incredibly successful.
But a lot of people think what the BCS does - control college football's process for deciding the national championship - is unfair. College football "experts" accuse the BCS of having a detrimental impact on college sports, and is trying to get the government involved in forcing the BCS to be "responsible'' - by their standard - in the way it does business.
Officials in the government recently went after the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association), the body that governs big-time college sports. Unfortunately, no matter how many times it has been said and written, the government officials can't seem to get it through their heads that the one sport the NCAA doesn't control is Division I College Football's Post-Season and it's national championship.
The BCS is made up of member institutions who have gotten together and agreed on how it will do business. And it does business very well, thank you.
I'm not saying I like the way Division I college football awards its championship. It is ludicrous that college football is the only college sport that doesn't end with some kind of NCAA-run playoff or tournament.
But it's not up to fans or the government to change that.
It's up to the member institutions of the BCS and the NCAA.
If people don't like the way McDonald's does business, they can quit supporting the company.
If fans don't like the way the BCS does college football, they can quit supporting the company.
Trust me, that's the best way - the most fair way - to get the attention of any company or organization that provides the public with a product or service.
I hope the BCS eventually gives us a four-team playoff. I believe it will happen, sooner rather than later.
But not because the government is meddling, or because self-proclaimed college "experts" (of which I used to be one) demand it.
The BCS will change because the market - not "experts'' or the government - demands it.
Just like McDonald's.
But a lot of people feel like what McDonald's does is not fair. Some 550 "health experts" accused the company of ignoring the impact it has on children, saying "McDonalds ... has refused to address the dangerous toll that fast food and predatory marketing is taking on our kids."
McDonalds says it is proud of the job it is doing and of the food it is offering. And judging by the response - McDonald's shares have risen 120-percent in the last five years, the company has returned billions of dollars to investors, and sales are consistently up - it's hard to argue with the company formula.
But of course some people want the government to get involved, and straighten McDonald's out by forcing the company to be "responsible'' - by their standard - in the way it does business.
If you think that's silly, that McDonald's wouldn't be successful if it didn't give people what they wanted, and it's none of the governments' or these "health experts" business what McDonald's does as long as its investors and supporters are happy, then let me ask you this:
What's the difference between McDonald's and the BCS (Bowl Championship Series)?
The BCS is incredibly successful.
But a lot of people think what the BCS does - control college football's process for deciding the national championship - is unfair. College football "experts" accuse the BCS of having a detrimental impact on college sports, and is trying to get the government involved in forcing the BCS to be "responsible'' - by their standard - in the way it does business.
Officials in the government recently went after the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association), the body that governs big-time college sports. Unfortunately, no matter how many times it has been said and written, the government officials can't seem to get it through their heads that the one sport the NCAA doesn't control is Division I College Football's Post-Season and it's national championship.
The BCS is made up of member institutions who have gotten together and agreed on how it will do business. And it does business very well, thank you.
I'm not saying I like the way Division I college football awards its championship. It is ludicrous that college football is the only college sport that doesn't end with some kind of NCAA-run playoff or tournament.
But it's not up to fans or the government to change that.
It's up to the member institutions of the BCS and the NCAA.
If people don't like the way McDonald's does business, they can quit supporting the company.
If fans don't like the way the BCS does college football, they can quit supporting the company.
Trust me, that's the best way - the most fair way - to get the attention of any company or organization that provides the public with a product or service.
I hope the BCS eventually gives us a four-team playoff. I believe it will happen, sooner rather than later.
But not because the government is meddling, or because self-proclaimed college "experts" (of which I used to be one) demand it.
The BCS will change because the market - not "experts'' or the government - demands it.
Just like McDonald's.
History: No guarantees, but certainly an indication that shouldn't be ignored
There is this radio commercial for a business in Mobile for one of those companies that sells gold. It's not one of those national companies that advertise on talk radio, but a local company that uses local "talent.'' You know the pitch: gold has doubled in price, and never loses its value, so it's never been a better investment.
And then comes the disclaimer that drives me crazy.
"Of course,'' the announcer says, "history is no indication of future performance.''
Yes, that's exactly what he says. At first I thought it was a mistake by the guy doing the commercial, but recently I was driving through Mobile and heard it again, only this time read by a different voice. And again, toward the end, the very same disclaimer: "History is no indication of future performance."
As anyone who has heard the countless "invest in gold" commercials knows, the line is supposed to be, "History is no guarantee of future performance."
Because if there is one thing history should be, it is an indication of future performance.
And I love history. The other day, I was reading about Rome and Julius Ceasar - the historical Ceasar, not the one that most of us know about from the works of Williams Shakespeare (as great as that story is).
Rome tried to build a society based on multiple gods, to be inclusive and try to draw on the strengths all offered. Unfortunately, Roman gods were limited because - like the Greek gods they were drawn from - they were essentially human; larger than life, exaggerated in their abilities and passions, but still simply a reflection of the humans that worshiped them.
The gods, as Francis Sheaffer put it, "were amplified humanity, not divinity." And so there was no absolute, no definitive "truth'' that served as a foundation for value, morality, life, and the critical decisions that determine the future of a culture. These kind of gods depend on the society that created them, rather than the other way around.
Julius Ceasar was able to come to power because the Roman Senate had lost its ability to keep order. The normal process of government was disrupted by rival factions fighting for power, which led to street gangs terrorizing the streets of Rome. Self-interest became more important than was in the best interest of society as a whole. Conspiracies abounded, "truth" was relative.
And so Rome turned to Ceasar in the hope that an authoritarian figure could restore order to their lives. They hoped that the government would be strong enough to give the people time to breath again and recover from wars and civil unrest and environmental disasters.
Is it any wonder that, in time, the Ceasars that succeeded Julius came to consider themselves gods? And that Roman Emperors tried to dictate morals and define family life with a series of impressive social reforms and welfare programs that was supposed to create loyalty to Ceasar, but instead - because the Ceasars themselves were human - really only created demands from the populace that became harder and harder for government to fulfill.
Christians, of course, stepped in with an absolute basis for judging the government and its actions, which is the one thing an authoritarian state can't have. Christians were not persecuted because they worshiped Christ; they were persecuted because they worshiped Christ and no other gods. And even though the Christians sometimes got it wrong, they continually came back to the foundation of their faith as written out in what they believed to be God's Word, Holy Scripture, and could always go back to that to try to work out the right course of action.
And yes, eventually Christianity became the official state religion of Rome, and became corrupted (because power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely). And as much as anything, the Romans became apathetic. They just wanted to be left alone to live their lives in peace, but had become so dependent on government to provide that peace that they were faced with ridiculous inflation and unbearable taxes required to pay for that ever-expanding government.
Perhaps this is an over-simplification, but I believe the premise is correct.
And perhaps some of that appears relevant to us today in this country.
Rome is not the only time in history that this pattern has occurred. History is full of similar risings and fallings. But just because there is a pattern, it doesn't mean history has to repeat itself.
After all, history does not "guarantee'' future results.
But there is no question it gives us a strong indication.
And then comes the disclaimer that drives me crazy.
"Of course,'' the announcer says, "history is no indication of future performance.''
Yes, that's exactly what he says. At first I thought it was a mistake by the guy doing the commercial, but recently I was driving through Mobile and heard it again, only this time read by a different voice. And again, toward the end, the very same disclaimer: "History is no indication of future performance."
As anyone who has heard the countless "invest in gold" commercials knows, the line is supposed to be, "History is no guarantee of future performance."
Because if there is one thing history should be, it is an indication of future performance.
And I love history. The other day, I was reading about Rome and Julius Ceasar - the historical Ceasar, not the one that most of us know about from the works of Williams Shakespeare (as great as that story is).
Rome tried to build a society based on multiple gods, to be inclusive and try to draw on the strengths all offered. Unfortunately, Roman gods were limited because - like the Greek gods they were drawn from - they were essentially human; larger than life, exaggerated in their abilities and passions, but still simply a reflection of the humans that worshiped them.
The gods, as Francis Sheaffer put it, "were amplified humanity, not divinity." And so there was no absolute, no definitive "truth'' that served as a foundation for value, morality, life, and the critical decisions that determine the future of a culture. These kind of gods depend on the society that created them, rather than the other way around.
Julius Ceasar was able to come to power because the Roman Senate had lost its ability to keep order. The normal process of government was disrupted by rival factions fighting for power, which led to street gangs terrorizing the streets of Rome. Self-interest became more important than was in the best interest of society as a whole. Conspiracies abounded, "truth" was relative.
And so Rome turned to Ceasar in the hope that an authoritarian figure could restore order to their lives. They hoped that the government would be strong enough to give the people time to breath again and recover from wars and civil unrest and environmental disasters.
Is it any wonder that, in time, the Ceasars that succeeded Julius came to consider themselves gods? And that Roman Emperors tried to dictate morals and define family life with a series of impressive social reforms and welfare programs that was supposed to create loyalty to Ceasar, but instead - because the Ceasars themselves were human - really only created demands from the populace that became harder and harder for government to fulfill.
Christians, of course, stepped in with an absolute basis for judging the government and its actions, which is the one thing an authoritarian state can't have. Christians were not persecuted because they worshiped Christ; they were persecuted because they worshiped Christ and no other gods. And even though the Christians sometimes got it wrong, they continually came back to the foundation of their faith as written out in what they believed to be God's Word, Holy Scripture, and could always go back to that to try to work out the right course of action.
And yes, eventually Christianity became the official state religion of Rome, and became corrupted (because power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely). And as much as anything, the Romans became apathetic. They just wanted to be left alone to live their lives in peace, but had become so dependent on government to provide that peace that they were faced with ridiculous inflation and unbearable taxes required to pay for that ever-expanding government.
Perhaps this is an over-simplification, but I believe the premise is correct.
And perhaps some of that appears relevant to us today in this country.
Rome is not the only time in history that this pattern has occurred. History is full of similar risings and fallings. But just because there is a pattern, it doesn't mean history has to repeat itself.
After all, history does not "guarantee'' future results.
But there is no question it gives us a strong indication.
The walk of shame
I don't know whether International Monetary Fund head Dominique Strauss-Kahn is guilty or not. That's supposed to be the American justice system, after all - innocent until proven guilty.
The story of a man of influence and power taking advantage of a woman is such a cliche - think Bill Clinton, Kobe Bryant - that it is almost too easy to believe he did indeed sexually assault a hotel room maid.
And all the circumstance surrounding his capture - sitting in a first-class seat on an airplane that was bound for France, which has no extradition agreement with the United States (think Roman Polanski) - only add to that belief.
The simple fact is, Strauss-Kahn looks guilty.
Especially when they made him do the "perp" walk.
Forget cruel and unusual punishment. Forget Miranda rights. Forget fair and speedy trial before a jury of your peers.
I'm not sure that the "perp'' walk isn't absolutely the worst part of our justice system.
Go back to that line we all say we believe in: "innocent until proven guilty."
Nobody looks innocent being paraded around in public, on television, handcuffed with police on either side, looking smug.
Don't misunderstand - I'm all for the police. It's a tough job, and they are often the underdogs in an adversarial system where it seems like the criminals have more rights than the victims, and certainly more rights than the police who are charged with protecting and investigating.
But what purpose does the 'perp' walk serve, other than to humiliate the arrested and perhaps serve as a huge first step toward conviction by the prosecutor?
Would it really make any difference to the system if a guy was arrested, handcuffed, and taken away quietly? For that matter, surrounded by police or authorities, are handcuffs even necessary? Couldn't they just escort the accused to their car, allowing him to open his own door and get into the back seat on his own power?
And don't give me that stuff about the guys and girls who go berserk and kick and scream and fall to the ground and try to bust out the windows of a squad car. When that starts to happen, slap the cuffs on them and muscle them up. They've asked for it.
But when a guy goes willingly with out struggle, doesn't he deserve - under our system of law - to be treated like he might be innocent?
I don't know.
It's just a thought.
The story of a man of influence and power taking advantage of a woman is such a cliche - think Bill Clinton, Kobe Bryant - that it is almost too easy to believe he did indeed sexually assault a hotel room maid.
And all the circumstance surrounding his capture - sitting in a first-class seat on an airplane that was bound for France, which has no extradition agreement with the United States (think Roman Polanski) - only add to that belief.
The simple fact is, Strauss-Kahn looks guilty.
Especially when they made him do the "perp" walk.
Forget cruel and unusual punishment. Forget Miranda rights. Forget fair and speedy trial before a jury of your peers.
I'm not sure that the "perp'' walk isn't absolutely the worst part of our justice system.
Go back to that line we all say we believe in: "innocent until proven guilty."
Nobody looks innocent being paraded around in public, on television, handcuffed with police on either side, looking smug.
Don't misunderstand - I'm all for the police. It's a tough job, and they are often the underdogs in an adversarial system where it seems like the criminals have more rights than the victims, and certainly more rights than the police who are charged with protecting and investigating.
But what purpose does the 'perp' walk serve, other than to humiliate the arrested and perhaps serve as a huge first step toward conviction by the prosecutor?
Would it really make any difference to the system if a guy was arrested, handcuffed, and taken away quietly? For that matter, surrounded by police or authorities, are handcuffs even necessary? Couldn't they just escort the accused to their car, allowing him to open his own door and get into the back seat on his own power?
And don't give me that stuff about the guys and girls who go berserk and kick and scream and fall to the ground and try to bust out the windows of a squad car. When that starts to happen, slap the cuffs on them and muscle them up. They've asked for it.
But when a guy goes willingly with out struggle, doesn't he deserve - under our system of law - to be treated like he might be innocent?
I don't know.
It's just a thought.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
From where does your help come?
Sitting in Birmingham in the days after the tornado watching the excellent non-stop coverage of the disaster, I caught a live interview with two Congressmen from Alabama - one Democrat, one Republic - that spoke volumes.
The Democrat was Terri Sowell; the Republican Spencer Bachus. they were not on at the same time, and so didn't hear each other. And the question was something along the lines of, "What do we do now?
Sowell, who is very bright and well spoken and no doubt represents her constituents the way they want, immediately began talking about the Federal government's response, from expecting a Presidential response to calling for officials from FEMA to set up immediately to the benefit of an expected declaration of disaster.
Bachus, a long-time Representative, had a different take. His first reaction was to talk about having the Red Cross and local churches and volunteer groups hitting the ground to start bringing immediate aid.
And that, to me, has become the primary difference between the two parties.
For all the trouble that this country is in on so many fronts - the economy, jobs, housing, natural disasters - it is important to realize that this is nothing this country has not been through before - and we've always come through.
However, the concern is that every time we've come through some issue - the Cold War, the Great Depression, gas shortages, civil rights, World Wars, mud slides, earthquakes - we always come through with a little less freedom than we had before. Inevitably, the programs that begin with the best of intentions, designed to help people, become, before long, entitlements. And as much as politicians want people to like (meaning "vote for") them by helping them, what they end up with are people who expect and eventually demand more help until the system becomes overloaded and, eventually, unsustainable. (see my last blog: http://raymelick.blogspot.com/2011/05/history-no-guarantees-but-certainly.html).
On the other hand, I have witnessed, first hand, people showing up to help people.Strangers who deliver sandwiches and water and offer to haul debris for a few minutes with no expectation of anything in return.
In my own neighborhood in Birmingham, I watched as neighbors whose houses had been destroyed simply went next door to help a neighbor whose house was salvageable. Many of us would work on our own places for awhile, then we'd go down the street and pitch in to help on a project that appeared doable.
No one from the government came by and told us to do this. No agency came by and made us do it. We just did it.
The same is true in more organized efforts. I went down to the Christian Service Mission (see facebook page; https://www.facebook.com/ChristianServiceMission) in Birmingham, where an 8,000 foot warehouse has been filled and emptied 30-plus times in the first two weeks after the disaster hit. On the day I went down, there were several men from Indiana who had driven down and were cooking in the parking lot. There were people who drove in from Kentucky, Louisiana, North Carolina, Florida - all over; good people who just decided to leave what they were doing to show up and help out. Often they didn't even have any idea of where to go or what they'd do, but they knew they needed to do something.
Regular people were showing up with their personal trucks and trailers to deliver, with no expectation of reimbursement for gas despite gas prices being what they are.
Those incidences have been rare, although we can expect them to pick up as the sense of urgency wears off and the reality of the long haul that people are in for in Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee and Georgia settles in.
Oh, and FEMA and the government has been very active, and doing good work. It would be remiss not to give them credit.
But is government working because the lessons of Katrina were learned, or because the government has stumbled into a situation where people are not relying exclusively on the government but using government to supplement their own hard work and the hard work of neighbors and volunteers?
I don't know the answer to that. Maybe it's a lot of both.
Here where I work on the Gulf of Mississippi, people remember the help they received during Katrina, and are determined to go north to return the favor.
That seems to me to be the way it is supposed to be.
And it is an indictment of the church and communities that we let the government step in and take over delivering the kind of help that the church and local communities used to recognize as their responsibility - even as we see the church and local community respond in huge numbers, proving that sympathy is no substitute for action.
In short, where does your help come from?
The Democrat was Terri Sowell; the Republican Spencer Bachus. they were not on at the same time, and so didn't hear each other. And the question was something along the lines of, "What do we do now?
Sowell, who is very bright and well spoken and no doubt represents her constituents the way they want, immediately began talking about the Federal government's response, from expecting a Presidential response to calling for officials from FEMA to set up immediately to the benefit of an expected declaration of disaster.
Bachus, a long-time Representative, had a different take. His first reaction was to talk about having the Red Cross and local churches and volunteer groups hitting the ground to start bringing immediate aid.
And that, to me, has become the primary difference between the two parties.
For all the trouble that this country is in on so many fronts - the economy, jobs, housing, natural disasters - it is important to realize that this is nothing this country has not been through before - and we've always come through.
However, the concern is that every time we've come through some issue - the Cold War, the Great Depression, gas shortages, civil rights, World Wars, mud slides, earthquakes - we always come through with a little less freedom than we had before. Inevitably, the programs that begin with the best of intentions, designed to help people, become, before long, entitlements. And as much as politicians want people to like (meaning "vote for") them by helping them, what they end up with are people who expect and eventually demand more help until the system becomes overloaded and, eventually, unsustainable. (see my last blog: http://raymelick.blogspot.com/2011/05/history-no-guarantees-but-certainly.html).
On the other hand, I have witnessed, first hand, people showing up to help people.Strangers who deliver sandwiches and water and offer to haul debris for a few minutes with no expectation of anything in return.
In my own neighborhood in Birmingham, I watched as neighbors whose houses had been destroyed simply went next door to help a neighbor whose house was salvageable. Many of us would work on our own places for awhile, then we'd go down the street and pitch in to help on a project that appeared doable.
No one from the government came by and told us to do this. No agency came by and made us do it. We just did it.
The same is true in more organized efforts. I went down to the Christian Service Mission (see facebook page; https://www.facebook.com/ChristianServiceMission) in Birmingham, where an 8,000 foot warehouse has been filled and emptied 30-plus times in the first two weeks after the disaster hit. On the day I went down, there were several men from Indiana who had driven down and were cooking in the parking lot. There were people who drove in from Kentucky, Louisiana, North Carolina, Florida - all over; good people who just decided to leave what they were doing to show up and help out. Often they didn't even have any idea of where to go or what they'd do, but they knew they needed to do something.
Regular people were showing up with their personal trucks and trailers to deliver, with no expectation of reimbursement for gas despite gas prices being what they are.
As one AP story said, "Thousands of volunteers headed to the University of Alabama with chainsaws, wrecking bars and food to tornado victims. ... So many people came to volunteer Saturday that it caused traffic jams, reminiscent of a fall football weekend. Many groups have had time since the storms struck April 27 to organize trips, and the turnout appeared far heavier than the first weekend after the twisters. ..."
Everything is not positive, of course. There are abuses, from looting in some areas to a (very) few companies that cut trees for a living protesting all these "volunteers" because these volunteers are taking away from their livelihood. There are instances where "donations'' have been broken toys or dirty clothes or other unusable items that look more like people were getting rid of their trash than actually donating to really help people in need.Those incidences have been rare, although we can expect them to pick up as the sense of urgency wears off and the reality of the long haul that people are in for in Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee and Georgia settles in.
Oh, and FEMA and the government has been very active, and doing good work. It would be remiss not to give them credit.
But is government working because the lessons of Katrina were learned, or because the government has stumbled into a situation where people are not relying exclusively on the government but using government to supplement their own hard work and the hard work of neighbors and volunteers?
I don't know the answer to that. Maybe it's a lot of both.
Here where I work on the Gulf of Mississippi, people remember the help they received during Katrina, and are determined to go north to return the favor.
That seems to me to be the way it is supposed to be.
And it is an indictment of the church and communities that we let the government step in and take over delivering the kind of help that the church and local communities used to recognize as their responsibility - even as we see the church and local community respond in huge numbers, proving that sympathy is no substitute for action.
In short, where does your help come from?
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Swirling outside the vortex of memory
You know how you go along, minding your own business, nothing in particular on your mind, when suddenly something inconsequential triggers a memory chain?
It usually happens in areas where you have memories. Say you're riding around the perimeter of Atlanta, and go by the exit for Greenbriar Mall. The thought of Greenbriar Mall makes you think of riding your bike there when you were a kid, going to the Woolworth's to look at comics - Tarzan was my favorite, which got me starting reading Edgar Rice Burroughs. My Dad collected all the works of Louis L'Amour, and I collected the Travis McGee novels of John D. McDonald. McGee supposedly lived on a house boat (the "Busted Flush") in a boat slip in Fort Lauderdale's Bahia Mar Marina, a real place I drove by once with my brother when my brother lived in South Florida. We were headed out deep sea fishing - the last time I ever went deep sea fishing because I got so sick I remember hanging over the side of the boat, losing my lunch. And I was not the only one ...
You see how it goes.
Somewhere I remember someone referring to this as a "memory vortex'' or "the vortex effect."
Because I have been fortunate enough to travel a good bit for most of my life around the United States, these "vortex'' moments happen all over the place. I see something about Pittsburgh, which reminds me of the time I flew into Pittsburgh on my way to State College and all 50 of the "Miss America'' contestants where there, gathered at one gate. Turns out for some reason they all flew into Pittsburgh before going on to Atlantic City, where they would show up en masse for the Miss America pageant. I don't know why the pageant organizers had them meet in Pittsburgh, and if it was always Pittsburgh or if sometimes they met in Cleveland and sometimes Richmond or wherever.
That was the trip where I flew into State College for a Penn State football game, and the night before a couple of us wandered around what, at least at the time, seemed like one of the coolest college towns ever. We went into some legendary bar called the Rathskeller where the guys I was with drank Rolling Rock and apparently it was OK to take out pocket knives and carve names or messages into the tables. Later we wandered into this upstairs club that was absolutely packed, and when they started playing Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock" everyone started dancing and singing along; it was one of those inexplicable experiences that took a song I'd never cared for and turned it into this memory that always makes me smile.
Or how any time I'm in an unfamiliar town, turn a corner and see a McDonald's, I always think of my sister seeing a McDonald's on a trip to California and saying, "Oh, good! A home-cooked meal!''
It was a trip my family took out west for my oldest brother's wedding. We drove from Atlanta to Los Angeles to San Francisco and back through Denver and Kansas City, pulling the camping trailer my Dad built and going camp-ground-to camp ground. We stopped in Arizona to see the Grand Canyon, taking a small plane ride into the canyon that was so rough Mom was throwing up in the front seat. ... I ride in the back of the stationwagon, lying down, either looking at the mountains or reading Westerns that I'd get from drug stores along the way. ... My first piece of real beef jerky, which until that time I'd only read about in books. My brother and I bought it at some road-side stand high in the mountains of Nevada, back before you could buy beef jerky at every convenience store and truck stop in America.
You get the idea.
But here is the point - and I think I have one: the other day as I was trying to figure out why, even though I've lived here since November, the Gulf Coast of Mississippi just doesn't feel like home. And it occured to me: no memory vortex.
There is nothing here that creates those associations in my mind. It's the strangest thing. I love the scenic drive along the Mississippi Sound every day; the waves and beach and sunsets. I love the remaining old homes, the handful of restaurants that I'm now familiar with. I really like the people I work with and the work I'm doing.
But I still feel out of place. Even though the memory vortex often kicks in while in places I've never been, it just doesn't seem to happen here.
It's very strange. But even the memories that I've created around this place - ridiculously long walks with The Trophy Wife over bridges where we stumble onto a parade or see one woman's shoe that has us nervously looking over the side for a body, certain that where there is one shoe there should be another - I have to almost force myself to come up with those memories. They don't just happen. The 'vortex' doesn't just take over and start my mind spiraling to other places, other people, other times.
I'm not sure what this means. Or if it means anything. I just know I can't seem to create any real associations with this place, despite having some some wonderful things, been some wonderful places, and met some wonderful people...
Maybe it just takes time.
It usually happens in areas where you have memories. Say you're riding around the perimeter of Atlanta, and go by the exit for Greenbriar Mall. The thought of Greenbriar Mall makes you think of riding your bike there when you were a kid, going to the Woolworth's to look at comics - Tarzan was my favorite, which got me starting reading Edgar Rice Burroughs. My Dad collected all the works of Louis L'Amour, and I collected the Travis McGee novels of John D. McDonald. McGee supposedly lived on a house boat (the "Busted Flush") in a boat slip in Fort Lauderdale's Bahia Mar Marina, a real place I drove by once with my brother when my brother lived in South Florida. We were headed out deep sea fishing - the last time I ever went deep sea fishing because I got so sick I remember hanging over the side of the boat, losing my lunch. And I was not the only one ...
You see how it goes.
Somewhere I remember someone referring to this as a "memory vortex'' or "the vortex effect."
Because I have been fortunate enough to travel a good bit for most of my life around the United States, these "vortex'' moments happen all over the place. I see something about Pittsburgh, which reminds me of the time I flew into Pittsburgh on my way to State College and all 50 of the "Miss America'' contestants where there, gathered at one gate. Turns out for some reason they all flew into Pittsburgh before going on to Atlantic City, where they would show up en masse for the Miss America pageant. I don't know why the pageant organizers had them meet in Pittsburgh, and if it was always Pittsburgh or if sometimes they met in Cleveland and sometimes Richmond or wherever.
That was the trip where I flew into State College for a Penn State football game, and the night before a couple of us wandered around what, at least at the time, seemed like one of the coolest college towns ever. We went into some legendary bar called the Rathskeller where the guys I was with drank Rolling Rock and apparently it was OK to take out pocket knives and carve names or messages into the tables. Later we wandered into this upstairs club that was absolutely packed, and when they started playing Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock" everyone started dancing and singing along; it was one of those inexplicable experiences that took a song I'd never cared for and turned it into this memory that always makes me smile.
Or how any time I'm in an unfamiliar town, turn a corner and see a McDonald's, I always think of my sister seeing a McDonald's on a trip to California and saying, "Oh, good! A home-cooked meal!''
It was a trip my family took out west for my oldest brother's wedding. We drove from Atlanta to Los Angeles to San Francisco and back through Denver and Kansas City, pulling the camping trailer my Dad built and going camp-ground-to camp ground. We stopped in Arizona to see the Grand Canyon, taking a small plane ride into the canyon that was so rough Mom was throwing up in the front seat. ... I ride in the back of the stationwagon, lying down, either looking at the mountains or reading Westerns that I'd get from drug stores along the way. ... My first piece of real beef jerky, which until that time I'd only read about in books. My brother and I bought it at some road-side stand high in the mountains of Nevada, back before you could buy beef jerky at every convenience store and truck stop in America.
You get the idea.
But here is the point - and I think I have one: the other day as I was trying to figure out why, even though I've lived here since November, the Gulf Coast of Mississippi just doesn't feel like home. And it occured to me: no memory vortex.
There is nothing here that creates those associations in my mind. It's the strangest thing. I love the scenic drive along the Mississippi Sound every day; the waves and beach and sunsets. I love the remaining old homes, the handful of restaurants that I'm now familiar with. I really like the people I work with and the work I'm doing.
But I still feel out of place. Even though the memory vortex often kicks in while in places I've never been, it just doesn't seem to happen here.
It's very strange. But even the memories that I've created around this place - ridiculously long walks with The Trophy Wife over bridges where we stumble onto a parade or see one woman's shoe that has us nervously looking over the side for a body, certain that where there is one shoe there should be another - I have to almost force myself to come up with those memories. They don't just happen. The 'vortex' doesn't just take over and start my mind spiraling to other places, other people, other times.
I'm not sure what this means. Or if it means anything. I just know I can't seem to create any real associations with this place, despite having some some wonderful things, been some wonderful places, and met some wonderful people...
Maybe it just takes time.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Aftermath of the death of Bin Laden: some of us will sleep easier while some may not
I was making my now-customary late-night drive down I-10 heading back from Birmingham to the paradise that is the Mississippi Gulf Coast when I heard the guy on the radio say that Osama Bin Laden was dead.
Shortly after that, I got a text on my phone that said, "Obama is dead!" from someone who would be embarassed to be identified but who could be forgiven for juxtaposing names in a moment of what I suppose was celebration or wonder.
In fact, just a few minutes later, the same radio commentator of a late-Sunday-night talk show who broke the news to me about Osama's death was trying to fill in details when he blurted out, "Obama was shot in the head! ... I mean, Osama was shot in the head,'' and over the next few minutes apologized profusely for the error.
An honest mistake; one that I don't believe for a minute was malicious. The names are too similar, and neither are common to the American tongue.
I don't believe it is the right of America to take out the leader of another country unless we're actively at war with that country. I believe in self-determination, and that belief has to carry over to other people in other countries as well. If they don't like their government, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it and institute new forms of government - a phrase I read somewhere.
But I honestly believe the death of Bin Laden was justified as an act of war. While he was not the leader of any identifiable country, he was the head of an organization that had repeatedly claimed to be at war with America. He accepted and boasted in responsibility for so many of the most horrific terrorist attacks of the last 20 years - both before and after the events of September 11, although the events of September 11 alone seem to me enough to warrant this kind of action against him.
The death of Bin Laden means that people who want peace can sleep a little better, knowing one threat is removed.
At the same time, the people who plot evil against peace-loving people of the world have to be sleeping a little less easy, wondering if they could be next.
While I am not necessarily opposed to the death penalty, I have always had this uneasy feeling that death was too easy of a way out for the truly evil. Selfishly, I would prefer the people who do us wrong are left alive and somehow made to live with the knowledge that they did not get away with their evil.
On the other hand, I do believe in eternity. And I do believe that Bin Laden knows right now what he's guilty of having done, fully understands the depths of his cruelty, and is feeling every bit of the pain of those people he or his minions hurt in his life.
It reminds me of a joke that seems to fit right now. Bin Laden dies and is taken to a room where he stands with the angel Gabriel, who according to Islam took the prophet Muhammed on his vision of paradise. Expecting his reward for being a devote Muslim, instead the door opens and George Washington comes into the room and hits him across his face. Bin Laden stands up, and Thomas Jefferson walks in and slams Bin Laden with the back of his hand. Bin Laden staggers to his feet again, and Robert E. Lee walks in and gives him a direct shot to the nose.
"What is this?'' Bin Laden cries. "Where are the 72 virgins promised to me by the Qu'ran?"
"Virgins?'' Gabriel said. "Oh, no - you misunderstood. It's 72 Virginians!"
Ba-dum-dum.
The point is that as much as I might feel like Bin Laden escaped my standard of justice, as much as we might like to determine fitting punishment for enemies such as Bin Laden, in the end Bin Laden did not - and will not - escape his trial before God.
And he will know for all time a level of pain and suffering far beyond any he inflicted in his miserable life.
Shortly after that, I got a text on my phone that said, "Obama is dead!" from someone who would be embarassed to be identified but who could be forgiven for juxtaposing names in a moment of what I suppose was celebration or wonder.
In fact, just a few minutes later, the same radio commentator of a late-Sunday-night talk show who broke the news to me about Osama's death was trying to fill in details when he blurted out, "Obama was shot in the head! ... I mean, Osama was shot in the head,'' and over the next few minutes apologized profusely for the error.
An honest mistake; one that I don't believe for a minute was malicious. The names are too similar, and neither are common to the American tongue.
I don't believe it is the right of America to take out the leader of another country unless we're actively at war with that country. I believe in self-determination, and that belief has to carry over to other people in other countries as well. If they don't like their government, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it and institute new forms of government - a phrase I read somewhere.
But I honestly believe the death of Bin Laden was justified as an act of war. While he was not the leader of any identifiable country, he was the head of an organization that had repeatedly claimed to be at war with America. He accepted and boasted in responsibility for so many of the most horrific terrorist attacks of the last 20 years - both before and after the events of September 11, although the events of September 11 alone seem to me enough to warrant this kind of action against him.
The death of Bin Laden means that people who want peace can sleep a little better, knowing one threat is removed.
At the same time, the people who plot evil against peace-loving people of the world have to be sleeping a little less easy, wondering if they could be next.
While I am not necessarily opposed to the death penalty, I have always had this uneasy feeling that death was too easy of a way out for the truly evil. Selfishly, I would prefer the people who do us wrong are left alive and somehow made to live with the knowledge that they did not get away with their evil.
On the other hand, I do believe in eternity. And I do believe that Bin Laden knows right now what he's guilty of having done, fully understands the depths of his cruelty, and is feeling every bit of the pain of those people he or his minions hurt in his life.
It reminds me of a joke that seems to fit right now. Bin Laden dies and is taken to a room where he stands with the angel Gabriel, who according to Islam took the prophet Muhammed on his vision of paradise. Expecting his reward for being a devote Muslim, instead the door opens and George Washington comes into the room and hits him across his face. Bin Laden stands up, and Thomas Jefferson walks in and slams Bin Laden with the back of his hand. Bin Laden staggers to his feet again, and Robert E. Lee walks in and gives him a direct shot to the nose.
"What is this?'' Bin Laden cries. "Where are the 72 virgins promised to me by the Qu'ran?"
"Virgins?'' Gabriel said. "Oh, no - you misunderstood. It's 72 Virginians!"
Ba-dum-dum.
The point is that as much as I might feel like Bin Laden escaped my standard of justice, as much as we might like to determine fitting punishment for enemies such as Bin Laden, in the end Bin Laden did not - and will not - escape his trial before God.
And he will know for all time a level of pain and suffering far beyond any he inflicted in his miserable life.
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