Sunday morning I woke up feeling afraid.
There was no real reason. Sometimes it just happens. Not that frequently, thankfully. But sometimes I wake up early and find myself obsessing over things that have happened that I can't do anything about; things that are happening that I can't change; or things that "could" happen but I don't really know for sure.
Then at church, since it was the first Sunday of Advent, every song seemed to contain the phrase "Fear not!" And the sermon included a familiar Christmas refrain "Fear not!"
Fear not.
We associate that phrase with Christmas. Angels show up out of nowhere and say, "Fear not." The message is one of hope and salvation, of peace; you know, "Glad tidings of great joy."
Case in point: the sermon was from Revelation and the letter to the church at Smyrna.
Now, to me (in this meaningless aside), Smyrna is a suburb of Atlanta where I lived for a time, right near Aunt Fannie's Cabin and Cumberland Mall. Julia Roberts, the actress, grew up in Smyrna.
I didn't know her.
But in the letter to the church at Old World/Ancient World Smyrna the message is "Do not be afraid," which is the same as "Fear not!" After my morning, I fully expected this to be God's way of showing me He was aware of my morning and had prepared a message specifically to comfort me.
But of course, what does the phrase "fear not" always seem to be followed by?
And so the message to Smyrna is "Fear not! ... the devil will put some of you in prison ... you will suffer ... be faithful even to the point of death."
Fear not?
Here's the thing: almost every person or church or people group that heard the message "Fear not" could be pretty certain they were heading toward some very fearful times.
Mary was going to have this baby that would cause her great embarrassment within the community as people questioned her virtue and the parentage of this child, and it didn't stop just because the angels and shepherds and wise men appeared to celebrate His birth. Old Testament scripture suggests the whispers about Jesus' lineage continued throughout his young life. And indeed there is the whole thing about the Crucifixion.
Joseph was told to go ahead and marry this woman and raise this child as his own. He had to hear the same town gossip, the insinuations and suggestions as he lived and worked and raised a family in their home town.
And so on.
It is easy, and Lord knows I've been guilty, to make the mistake of not paying attention to what follows the "Fear not" in the Bible. I mean, it's Christmas! It's family and decorations and wonderful feel-good songs and presents and parties and celebrations of life.
But one of the things I appreciate about Scripture is the reality. If we read it honestly, we see flawed human beings who have troubles and do stupid things, when want we want to see are stories of people who loved God and so God rewarded them with comfortable, carefree lives. We read about churches that had serious problems of deceit and immorality and serious arguments over theology, not megachurches where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children above average (shout out to Lake Wobegon).
In other words, when you blow the dust off the stories of the Bible, you find stories of real people, in real situations, members of very real organizations ... who go through real situations and therefore, like the rest of us, have every reason to fear.
There is a hymn that we used to sing that goes, "This world is not my home; I'm just passing through." The problem is that the "passing through" takes a long time for most of us, and involves things like jobs and bills and family and politics and the economy and sickness and crazy neighbors and evil people and our own mistakes that cause us pain.
I wish I could write something profound that answers this question of "fear."
Perhaps the best I can do is relate a story my older brother told from when he was a seminary student. He and some classmates were playing basketball in the gym and the janitor came in to lock up. However, the janitor decided to let the guys finish their game, and he sat down on the bleachers and pulled out his Bible to read while they played (apparently he'd seen all the seminary-level basketball games he cared to watch).
Afterward, my brother says he and the other guys went over to thank the janitor and asked, "What are you reading?
The old man said, "Book of Revelations."
My brother and the others, being seminary students and therefore knowing all about theology and exegesis and interpretation, said to the old man, "Do you understand it?"
The old man said, "I think so."
My brother and his friends looked at each other, probably rather smugly, and said, "There's a lot of symbolism in that book - lamp stands and dragons and 666 and strange creatures. People have been trying to figure out what those things mean for centuries. What do you think it means?"
The old man smiled and said, "It means in the end, Jesus wins."
And that's the best answer I have for "fearing not."
Whatever we're going through now, whatever the future holds, whatever our early morning fears are and however real they may or may not be, in the end, Jesus wins.
Fear not.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Virtue as its own (limited) reward
However, maybe you're familiar with the story of the New York City policeman who was accidentally caught in the act of providing shoes to a shoe-and-sockless homeless man, a scene captured on camera by a tourist from Arizona.
It's a heartwarming story and a reminder that people will do the right thing ... maybe not all the time, but when moved to compassion.
Of course, some of the reaction reflected the cynical nature of our society. I read a comment that suggested the whole thing was staged as a PR stunt by the NYPD; another that said he was familiar with this particular homeless man who always sat outside shoe stores and had received several pairs of free shoes over the course of the last month; another was outraged that someone would give this man anything because so much of our taxpayer money already goes to provide "these people" with benefits; and so on.
Thankfully, most of the reaction was positive, as people responded - as I believe people usually do - with sincere appreciation toward such unselfish and random acts of kindness.
Not that we should give to every homeless or person begging we come across. Each of us has to make individual choices, and quite frankly I can't tell you why sometimes I choose to help people when I see them and why sometimes I don't. But sometimes, it just feels like the 'right' thing to do.
I know the cliche that may not always be true that by giving a street person money they will only use it on alcohol or drugs. But I also believe sometimes I can't let what I don't know paralyze me from doing something good. I can't always be responsible for how "those people" use my gift; my responsibility is for how I react ... and as I said, sometimes I feel compelled - moved by the Spirit? - to give or buy a meal, sometimes I don't. And I do believe God will hold me accountable for my lack of action as well as my action.
Two examples:
Once I was hit up by a guy in downtown Birmingham who said he was hungry and wanted a meal. I said "sorry" and kept walking. Later, I was standing in McDonalds and saw this guy, standing there, looking at the menu board, carefully counting out the change he had in his hand. I have to admit I felt horrible ... I walked over and told him to order whatever he wanted, and I'd pay for it. Maybe I was still being scammed, but I don't think so.
Another time I was at an ATM when a guy came and told me he needed money to buy groceries for his wife and baby. I just happened to be going to a nearby grocery store and told him if he met me there, I'd help him out. At the store, I said "Go get what you need and meet me back here at the check-out line." When we met up, he had gathered ..... a loaf of bread, a package of baloney, and a six pack of beer. I said, "What about your baby? And your wife?" He just looked at me. I shook my head and told him I didn't appreciate the deception. He said, "Come on, man, help me out." I didn't.
You probably have stories like both of those. Most of us do.
But in the reaction to this NYPD-shoe story, there was another section of comments that caught my attention as well. They went:
TEXASGRANNY73Posted on November 29, 2012 at 12:12pm
It is not just the uniform as you seem to indicate. It is the heart inside the uniform. What a wonderful good Samaritan story and God always blesses those who give. Very very nice it is a policeman. And the young lady who took the picture, thanks.There is no middle ground here on earth…
You are either Pro Jesus Christ or you are Anti-Christ!
This is just one example where people helping people is done better than
Governments helping themselves!
Posted on November 29, 2012 at 12:29pm
@PCDoctors4u2
what a pointless comment. What if the police officer was an atheist? Would his gesture be less mora and goodl? Would it invalidate his act of selflessness? A good man did a good deed. That’s all there is to this. And yes, these random acts of kindness restores my faith in the human race. The Human race. Not the Christian race.
PCDoctors4u2
Posted on November 29, 2012 at 12:37pm
@sonickThe hypothetical you raise would never happen. By definition an atheist is a selfish non-believer.
Without truth there is no light.
It is not my job to convince you… The choice is yours! what you do with this information is up to you!
SoNick
Posted on November 29, 2012 at 3:08pm@PCDoctors4u2
Are you seriously trying to convince anyone that no good deed has ever been performed by non believers in the history of Humanity? Then you are either: very ignorant or completely blinded by your faith.
Also, when you say : “It is not my job to convince you…” you are merely acknowledging the weakness of your arguments. It’s not that it’s not your job; you just seem incapable of convincing anyone. And while we’re at it, if you’re such a good believer, shouldn’t it be your job to convince lost souls? Just sayin’…
That this act turned into a theological debate (of sorts) reminded me that kindness is not exclusive to Christianity, or even to people who believe in God at all. The one writer is correct: much good has been done by non-Christians and atheists.
And it reminded me of something I read sometime ago by Albert Mohler, of Southern Seminary. It was an article that said "Christian Values Cannot Save Anyone."
In it, Mohler addresses a young woman who was distraught that her children had rebelled against her faith, particularly when this mother said she tried to raise her family under the same strong Christian values she grew up with.
And Mohler points out that, "Christian values are the problem. Hell will be filled with people who were avidly committed to Christian values. Christian values cannot save anyone and never will. The gospel of Jesus Christ is not a Christian value, and a comfortability with Christian values can blind sinners to their need for the gospel. ..."
In this country, particularly in the part of the country I live in, most of us have some commitment to values that we'd call "Christian." I was talking to a friend recently who is looking for a place to worship, and his problem was not that there were not enough choices, but that there were so many. We're blessed in my community to have a number of good options of places to worship and grow in faith.
And while we need values, we Christians need to remember that "values" - no matter how dedicated people are to living by them - do not save. My faith and my belief is that eternal salvation comes only by the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I do believe that most of us are, by nature, moralists: we want people to live together well and by a certain set of standards that produces what we believe or have learned will do the best job of promoting a safe, secure community.
Yet "moralism" can be one of the greatest dangers we face. History is filled with societies that became "culturally Christian," and too often cultural Christianity devolves into atheism, agnosticism, and other forms of non-belief as people continue to strive to do "good" without a deeper understanding of what "good" truly is.
Mohler writes, "The language of values is all that remains when the substance of belief disappears. ... We should not pray for Christian morality to disappear or for Christian values to evaporate. ... But a culture marked even by Christian values is in desperate need of evangelism, and that evangelism requires the knowledge that Christian values and the gospel of Jesus Christ are not the same thing. ..."
I normally don't spend so much time quoting someone else. It would be easier just to provide the link to the original, but I don't have it anymore.
And I know Mohler can be controversial and maybe you don't like him, but I think the point is still valid, that "values do not save anyone."
Or, to put a twist on an old saying, sometimes "virtue is its own reward."
I pray that even as I continue to help those in need, that I remember that as important as physical help is (and it's critical), spiritual help is eternal.
Yet "moralism" can be one of the greatest dangers we face. History is filled with societies that became "culturally Christian," and too often cultural Christianity devolves into atheism, agnosticism, and other forms of non-belief as people continue to strive to do "good" without a deeper understanding of what "good" truly is.
Mohler writes, "The language of values is all that remains when the substance of belief disappears. ... We should not pray for Christian morality to disappear or for Christian values to evaporate. ... But a culture marked even by Christian values is in desperate need of evangelism, and that evangelism requires the knowledge that Christian values and the gospel of Jesus Christ are not the same thing. ..."
I normally don't spend so much time quoting someone else. It would be easier just to provide the link to the original, but I don't have it anymore.
And I know Mohler can be controversial and maybe you don't like him, but I think the point is still valid, that "values do not save anyone."
Or, to put a twist on an old saying, sometimes "virtue is its own reward."
I pray that even as I continue to help those in need, that I remember that as important as physical help is (and it's critical), spiritual help is eternal.
Monday, November 26, 2012
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."
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."
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, November 19, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
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?")
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?
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?
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
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.
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.
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