Thanksgiving, and what 'would have been'

A week or so ago, Grayson and I were having lunch. I had taken MG to Memphis the week before to see her father, who was going to the doctor to see if his cancer had come back, and because it had come back with vengeance she stayed another week to make return trips to the various doctors as Mr. McGowan made decisions on what he wanted to do next.
I was telling Grayson, who is particularly close to "Poppa" (as MG's father is called by my kids), that the prognosis was not good. And as we talked, Grayson said something to the effect of, "This would have been a horrible year if Mom had died and then Poppa died, too."

I was pleased that he said this "would have ... if", because it would be easy to stay this has been a horrible year. In one seemingly random morning last April, MG's life - and therefore the lives of my family - changed forever. That she's alive is a miracle (no one at the scene of the accident believed she'd survive, and the doctors were not overly confident those first couple of days at the hospital either). With even as much progress as MG has made, we're coming to terms that certain limitations and impairments may well be permanent.
At the same time, we all knew Poppa wouldn't be with us forever, but given his optimism and determination (this is a man who drove from St. Louis back to Memphis when he was having a heart attack because he wanted to go to his own doctor), it is hard to imagine a time without him in our lives. So when you hear a  doctor actually lay out a time-line, putting parameters on the number of days he has left, it's a little mind-numbing.

This year could easily have gone down as one of the worst for us as a family, and I don't think anyone would have blamed us. But that Gray said it "would have ...  if" said to me that despite it all, my family remains hopeful. And as I happened to hear Fess Parker, in his role as Daniel Boone, say at the end of re-run on MeTV of the other day, "A man without hope becomes not much different than an animal." Despite the source of that philosophy, I do think that hope is one of the essential characteristics of us as human beings.

And I'm reminded on this Thanksgiving weekend of the origin of the holiday of having read somewhere that the Pilgrims made seven times more graves than they did huts, yet we remember them every year for having set aside a day not to feel sorry for themselves, but to be thankful. That's the essence of hope.

I'm going to be honest here: at times, I'm not thankful. At times, I want revenge. The further we get away from The Accident and the more I realize how MG's life will never be the way it was and the guy that hit her remains out there, finally indicted but still suffering no consequence (that I'm aware of) for his action (there is no trial date set even now), and I see the consequences my family has faced and continues to face, I get angry.
There are so many seemingly inconsequential consequences of what has happened that we discover almost every day. And again, just to be completely honest, when people say to us, "You've come so far" there are times I think, "but there is only so far we'll be able to go" because more and more we're aware there is much we'll never get back.
Yes, it would be easy to say this was a horrible year.

And yet we - I - remain thankful.
The family gathered around the dinner table Thursday, sharing Thanksgiving with some good friends who, like so many of you, have walked this road with us as much as anybody can. We've got family coming into town this weekend, and it is such a blessing to have family and friends and to be as supported and cared for and loved as my family has been.

We've made the 23rd Psalm almost a cliche in our culture, something we learn to recite early in our lives and then use it so much it comes dangerously close to losing its meaning. However, a random story that I came across the other day caused me to stop and re-read this Psalm from David which, along with John 3:16, must have been one of the first parts of Scripture I ever memorized.

A minister of some kind in New Jersey named Len Deo re-wrote the 23rd Psalm in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, the effects of which the people in that part of the country are still feeling and will for years to come. We have seen the scenes of people in need, of houses destroyed, of shortages for food and water and power. He wrote it this way:

The LORD is my shepherd, and shepherds have it rough right now. He has no place to make me lie down but muddy pastures; He leads me beside troubled waters. He is giving my soul a lot of unusual work. He leads me in the paths of perseverance for a purpose I really don't see. Yea, I am walking through the aftermath of a hurricane and You are still prodding me; Your rod and Your staff, they are uncomfortable. You have filled my house with my children all day long; You anoint my head with cold showers; my impatience runneth over. Surely the good times went out with the lights, and I will dwell in my dim house for yet another day that feels like forever.

That's not how the Psalm goes, of course. But most of us can relate to the feeling. I sat down and re-wrote the Psalm for myself, filling in the way I feel right now. I won't share it because Mr. Deo's version makes the point. But it's an exercise I highly recommend.

What I was reminded of was that God does not stop being good just because our circumstances become difficult. I continue to trust Him, because where else can I turn? And I don't mean that as a last resort kind of statement, but one that time and life has proven to me to be the best and safest and surest 'resort.' I know I can trust Him through anything and everything.

So here we are, nearing the end of this year that has changed our lives so dramatically, that promises to continue to alter our lives for years to come.
I am thankful for my wife being alive (as painful as that is for her); for my kids (and the laughter as well as the serious discussions we share when we get together); for my extended family and that after 20-something years of uncomfortable interaction my father-in-law and I finally resolved what I should call him (another blog for another day); for a job in this economy (and learning that my hope is not in my job but truly in the Lord); for experiencing the love and care of friends and community who became and continue to be the very hands and feet of Christ in very real, practical ways; so many things.

But mostly, I'm thankful that this "would have been" a horrible year, but wasn't ... not because no one died (although there is that), but because through it all we remain hopeful.

And as Czechoslovakian poet and president Vaclav Havel once wrote, "Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense regardless of how it turns out."

Being poor, being broke - and ignoring the difference

It's Thanksgiving, which can mean only one thing:
Black Friday.
Somewhere amidst the turkey and family and football and expressing all the things we're thankful for, we've managed to turn this weekend into the biggest shopping day of the year.
Are you thankful for shopping?
On Monday of this week, I was listening to a story of people who are already lining up outside certain retailers to be first in the story for the great deals offered on Black Friday (which some stores have apparently determined now begin late Thursday).
These are easy news stories, in that you go out and find people who are camping out to be first in line to get the latest craze in electronics or toys (remember "Tickle Me Elmo"?). And I've always thought the people who camped out like this are the same people who camped out in college for tickets to concerts or sporting events, and it came to be popular as much the experience of the camp-out as it was for the event.
It is certainly smart to take advantage of these sales, particularly in this economy where all of us are struggling.
However, in this report I was listening to on radio Monday, many of the people who were camping out already were saying they "had" to do this because the economy was so bad and they were "poor."
It made me think of a lot of the popular news stories about being poor, and I realized a lot of people just don't understand the difference between being "poor" and being  "broke."

I've been poor.
Now even in saying that, I recognize everything is relative.
But for the sake of pointing out the difference ...  in my first newspaper job, I made something like $150 a week. Before taxes. And even in the olden days of my youth, $150 a week didn't go far in Atlanta, Ga. I shared an apartment right off I-285 near the Chattahoochee River, and even though I drove a small car that got better than 30 miles to the gallon I had to drive about 30-45 minutes to and from work and it was expensive. My boss thought I was a real hustler because I volunteered to go to every press conference in the city, but the truth is that in those days most press conferences also served free food. There were days when lunch or dinner consisted of a 50 cent coke and a 50 cent pack of crackers and cheese from a vending machine - a meal for a dollar. And, yes, I remember bringing packs of ketchup from fast food restaurants and mixing them in boiling water to try to create something close to tomato soup. And ramen noodles. I honestly didn't make enough money to live on. Thankfully I was single; I'd never have made it if I had been maried or had a family.

And I've been broke.
After that first job, when I started making more money, I guess I tried to make up for those years of being poor by spending everything I made. I made enough that I could live on my own and drive a newer car and eat regularly and go to concerts and movies and things that cost money, and I tended to spend everything I made.

I think about that when I hear people talk about "the poor" in this country. I know there are poor people. But I also know there are people who claim to be poor who are just broke.
Oh, they probably don't make as much money as the median income or whatever measurement you want to use, but they make enough "if" ... if they knew how to do things like budget and differentiate between wants and needs (two things that, I freely admit, I don't know how to do very well either).
We all know the cliches of the families on welfare who have big screen color HD TVs hooked up to satellite dishes that sit in the yard next to two relatively new SUVs.
Maybe it's not cliche. One common measure of poverty in the United States is something called the "poverty threshold'' set by the U.S. government that establishes poverty as a "lack of goods and services commonly taken for granted by members of mainstream society."
That means we judge poor in this nation in comparison to what the rest of us (the "broke) have.
And the problem with that is if we're 'broke' trying to get all the stuff we think we need then we're raising the standard of poverty and blurring the lines between 'poor' and 'broke.' No wonder we think government should provide cell phones and internet access!

So naturally when I hear people who claim the "need" to take advantage of the Black Friday sales because they are "poor," I think, why don't they save the money they are spending on these "needs" and put it in the bank and maybe next year they wouldn't be quite so "poor."
But then I have to ask myself, why don't I?

This may sound judgemental, but I don't mean it that way. There are poor people, people who don't make enough to provide for the basic needs all of us have. I do believe government has a place in helping, but just not as big of a role as government has taken on. But that's another blog for another day.
As much as anything, this is aimed at me (and maybe people like me).
Somewhere along the way, I read a story about an old preacher - John Wesley, or someone like him. The story went that, for most of his life, he lived off the same amount of money he made his first year of preaching, and that when he got raises or made more money he used that money for the ministry. I remember thinking, I used to live off a certain amount of money less than I make now; what if I had just continued to live off that amount and everything above that I put in savings or invested or donated to worthy causes? How much easier would life be?
I know the answer.
It's just doing it that seems impossible.

Jefferson after a contentious election

It was a nasty election, one that threatened the unity of the nation due to the acrimony of the political parties.

No, I'm not talking about the election of 2012, but rather of 1800; an election filled with intrigue, betrayal, and a a tie in the electoral college that was one of the first truly significant threats to the functioning of the still relatively new government of the United States.
But as fascinating as the history of that election is (and as much as the old history teacher in me would like to go into it), what struck me as significant was a portion of Thomas Jefferson's inaugural address. Jefferson, the winner of the presidential election, recognized that the process had been bitter and hard-fought and many remained divided between the Federalists and the Republican parties and the direction of the country.

So Jefferson recognized the potential of a serious threat to the unity of the Union, and addressed it in his inauguration speech, at one point saying: "We are all Republicans, we are all Federalists. If there be any among us who would wish to dissolve this Union or to change its republican form, let them stand undisturbed as monuments of the safety with which error of opinion may be tolerated where reason is left free to combat it."

There is much to consider in both of those sentences.
In the first, Jefferson reminded the country that the office of the President was created to represent all the people of the United States. While members of Congress were elected to represent states or districts within those states, the founding fathers - after much debate - recognized the need of an executive authority who would not represent a state or region but was to represent "the people."

Imagine a modern president taking office and saying "Today, I'm not a Republican, I'm not a Democrat. I'm not here to represent the 52 percent of the people who voted for me. I'm the president of all the people, and as such I need to consider the interests and concerns of them all."
It also says something about the people we have elected to that office that quite a few of them actually grew out of party identification and into the responsibility that comes with the job.

But just as important is the second sentence.
"If there be any among us who would wish to dissolve this Union or to change its republican form ..." was a real issue, one that would be addressed multiple times over the next 65 years - at the Hartford Convention of 1814 when northeastern states voted secession from the union in disagreement over the War of 1812 ("Mr. Madison's War" as they called it), blaming the war on President James Madison; in 1832, when southern states came close to seceding over the lack of representation in the government around the issue of tariffs on imports and exports; and of course in 1860 when secession became real when Southern states finally did withdraw from the Union.

Secession is back in the news this week with a lot of attention on those web-based petitions that, while of no real political consequence, should at least be recognized as an expression of displeasure by a part of the country over the current state of affairs.

Which leads us to the second part of Jefferson's sentence: " ... let them stand undisturbed as monuments of the safety with which error of opinion may be tolerated where reason is left free to combat it."
Maybe I'm reading Jefferson incorrectly, but it sounds to me as if he's saying, "let those people have their say and prove that even their error of opinion can be tolerated in a free society of reasonable people."

I am one of those people who believe disagreement can be healthy, particularly when it comes to government. We  - and those politicians we elect to represent and govern us - need to be careful when embarking on the process of governance. The creating of the Constitution was not easy, with men representing very different parts of the country fighting to defend their views of what was best for the future of their country and finally coming up with a compromise between the desire to maintain independence from government, the desire for states' rights, and the recognition of the necessity of a strong central government.

The process of governing such a huge and diverse country is no easier today than it was in Jefferson's day.
But neither does it have to be more difficult, if we're willing to listen as much as we talk, consider as much as we persuade, and - after the elections are over - recognize that, as Jefferson also said, "every difference of opinion is not a difference of principle."

Yes, elections have consequences, and the will of the majority does prevail, as it should. But that "will" must also be reasonable, recognizing that the minority of any election has rights, too, which must be considered. To paraphrase Jefferson,  what use is a country built on tolerance of religious belief if it allows political intolerance to be as "despotic, as wicked, and capable of as bitter and bloody persecutions'' (as were the religious persecutions that so many came to this country to avoid)?

It is also important for the minority - the 'losers,' if you will - to recognize that the vote was taken, the people have spoken, and the direction of the country has been established at least until the next election.

I read a recent interview with Florida Sen. Marco Rubio, who expressed similar sentiments in saying the current climate seems to be that "it's OK for one side to express their view and the other side needs to be quiet. ... Are we saying that they should be silenced or not allowed to speak or voice their opinion? There’s a way to do that that is respectful and productive. There are things we’ll always disagree on, but it doesn’t mean we go to war over them or divide our country over them. We agree to disagree, but we continue to work together on the things we all know that we have to do."

There is a lot of talk of general unhappiness and what "we ought to do about it." It is venting, and as Mr. Jefferson said, we should show we're strong enough to allow people to vent.

However, as Mr. Jefferson knew better than I, sooner or later we need to move on from venting and recognize the country as it is so that we can pursue serious ideas to save this government ("the world's best hope" as Mr. Jefferson called it) and this country that we love from the abyss.

If you are interested, here is one link to Jefferson's speech, While written in the language of the 1800s, it is worth re-reading, if for no other reason than to remind us that we've been down roads similar to this before.

Of God and government; cars and cell phones

There is a song from my misguided youth that too often seems to sum up my theology.
It was recorded by Janis Joplin, entitled "Mercedes Benz."
The lyrics are:

Oh lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz.
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends.
So oh lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz.
Oh lord won't you buy me a color TV.
Dialing for Dollars is trying to find me.
I wait for delivery each day until 3.
So oh lord won't you buy me a color TV.
Oh lord won't you buy me a night on the town.
I'm counting on you lord, please don't let me down.
Prove that you love me and buy the next round.
Oh lord won't you buy me a night on the town.
Everybody, Oh lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz.
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends.
So oh lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz.

The song, recorded a Capella, was one of the last ever recorded by Joplin. (and as an aside, I wonder how many people remember "Dialing for Dollars?")

Anyway, too many times I find myself "praying" something all too similar to this song (although with nothing close to the voice of the last Ms. Joplin). I guess it's just part of human nature - or at least my human nature - to keep coming back to God with what I think He could do for me to make me happy (as if that's His purpose in creating this universe we live in).

Maybe because God has disappointed us in our feeble prayers, I wonder if many in this country haven't substituted "government" for God, as in this well-publicised video from the recent presidential election:

Now, a lot of people are concerned about separation of church and state. But as this country becomes less "church" (as various polls and statistics say) I can't help but wonder if there isn't a transference of faith as we look to government to answer our prayers, in effect putting our trust in whoever is in power (and this isn't about Democrats or Republicans) to provide what we "need."

We can argue all day about who failed whom; whether it was God or the government. Certainly we can argue that the Church should have done more, but then maybe that would have constituted the church getting involved in an area the state took greater responsibility for in 1964 with then-president Lyndon Johnson's declaration of a "War on Poverty" that begat a host of official government programs to provide for those below the poverty line.

This country was founded by people who were trying to get away from government and the class system of Europe, who wanted to succeed or fail on their own merits. But the simple fact is that as people begin to live together in cities, and as this country moved from an agrarian society to an urban society (which really didn't happen until the early 1900s) so too did government move from state's rights to a more centralized federal government.
But rather than get bogged down in a history lesson - knowing full well that while historical facts are finite, the interpretation of those facts seems to be infinite - I decided it was a good excuse to bring back a little Janis Joplin, and wonder if she were alive today, would she be asking God or the President for her Mercedes Benz?

Picking your oppression label

So to what oppressed group do you belong?
If you're not part of one, you're not relevant, not cool, you apparently don't matter.
We all know the "groups" that matter: African-Americans and women, of course. Hispanics (or Latinos, depending on your choice of labels). The Gay community.
But there are Native Americans. Native Hawaiians. Native Alaskans. Migrant farm workers. Illegals. Union members. Tea Partiers. The 99 percent. Environmentalists.
The young and the old (The advocates for Senior Citizens have, in one case, banded together under the clever label "Gray Matters").
Muslims, of course. Jews. Evangelical Christians. Atheists. And nobody seems to like Hari Krishnas (at least not at the airport).
And then the sub sets: Working women. Single moms. Soccer moms. NASCAR moms. And USA Today not long ago introduced a new group it called "Wal-Mart moms."

There is something about our society that awards some sort of perceived moral authority to people we label "victims" or "marginalized" or "oppressed" - perhaps because we love to fight for "rights" - human rights, women's rights, civil rights, animal rights, gay rights ... again, if you don't think you're being denied some basic right, call the ACLU or the Southern Poverty Law Center; I'm sure someone on staff at one of those two organizations can find some way you've been oppressed.

This will come as a shock to many of the people in many of the above lists, but this very idea of the oppressed having such standing can be traced to .... Christianity.
Yes, I know. It's popular to blame Christians and Christianity for being the cause of so much oppression. And I am certainly aware of the many times in history that people, animals, and the environment (just to cover my bases) have been victimized by certain groups in the name of Christ.
But Jesus - who lived as part of an oppressed group under a harsh and repressive occupying government - instructed his followers to take the side of the underdog: the widow and orphan and prisoner and the hungry.
Consider that Jesus himself died as a prisoner, and his early followers continued to be victimized throughout the early years after Jesus' death (and resurrection). Most of history is the story of the powerful oppressing the conquered, and nobody wanted to identify with the powerless.
But Christianity is the story of the victim becoming the hero by becoming the victim. That was Jesus' example, and it's an model that Christianity has followed time after time.
And the way early Christians conducted themselves won over the populace in Europe, and did so without weapons or allies or any semblance of earthly power.
And even as Christianity became identified with political power in Europe and, therefore, throughout the world, it is also true that throughout the subsequent centuries Christians took the lead in the move to end slavery and educate the illiterate and bring medical care and, yes, elevate the oppressed by fighting to end the idea of "classes" of people in societies all around the world.

So if today we lift up the victimized and oppressed and bestow upon them a level of recognition or popularity, it is because of the influence of Christianity. As someone once wrote, "in a great irony, the politically correct movement often portrays itself as an enemy of Christianity when in fact the gospel has contributed to what has made possible the existence of such a movement." (I can't remember where that came from; I found it written on a scrap of paper in my Bible).

Even when accused (and sometimes being guilty) of oppression, the Church's influence to make our society better continues.