What to Tell the King in Case He Wants to Know

As an old time two-kingdom guy, (two-kingdom as in "Jesus said, 'My kingdom is not of this world'"),I recently got a kick out of Luke 13:31-35. Some Pharisees come to Jesus and give him a supposed warning, perhaps just to get a reaction, perhaps to get him out of the area, or, could it be possible, even out of concern for his welfare. The warning: "get away from here, for Harod wants to kill you."

I suppose that sounded plausable. Harod wasn't known for taking kindly to trouble makers and some powerful people saw Jesus as just that. He had John the Baptist executed because of a siily vow to a young dancing girl so it likely wouldn't take much for him to do the same to John's cousin.

Jesus had a beyond clever answer that not only disarmed the informers no matter their motivation, but also went to the heart of his relation to the powers that be as well as his mission and modus aporandi. "Go and tell that fox for me, 'Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.'"

Whatever personal respect Jesus may have had for the high and mighty he would have the people know that whatever political agenda or security concerns Harod might have they were irrelevant to what Jesus, himself, was up to. Whatever Patriot Acts or wars on terrorists Harod might be waging Jesus wasn't one bit fearful or even thinking of endorsing. That is the typical concern of Kings and Emperors which they will work at it with great bravado. It has nothing, zilch, zero to do with Christ's agenda.

Jesus says, "here is what I have on my plate; this is my what I have scheduled. Today I will be casting out demons and performing cures. That goes for tomorrow too. Oh, and on the day after tomorrow I will be doing it on the way to Jerusalem. To Jerusalem, because that's where prophets like me end up--at the disposal of Herod. So, please tell Herod I may see him around but meantime, his big-time operation of keeping the world safe for Pax Romana I will leave to my Father's discretion while I am simply bringing in a whole new kingdom by giving Satan fits as I overpower his work and by healing some poor people who can't afford medical insurance.

Obviously Jesus did not have anything at stake in the success, failure or even survival of the Roman Empire, nor even of a revival of the state of Israel. Those political entities were not his responsibility. Why should they be ours?

The Way We Were--Two Weeks Ago

After 65 years high school class reunions should not be taken lightly.  Time was when you would go to maybe your 25th or 30th and get a chuckle out of how many surprises there are.  The class mouse is now a coporate CEO and the class beauty an overworked gramma with lines forming from here to there.  But after 65 of those meetings I wouldn't say the chuckles are all gone but they are definitely subdued. 

The meeting is a little more somberuse the only joke anyone can remember is the one about not buying green bananas any more.  In our class we've given up remembering the stupid pranks we used to play or the time five guys skipped school to chase a firetruck to a fire.  Now we tell about knee replacements and how life has changed since cateract surgery or hearing aids. 

There are the usual questions about why so and so isn't here and someone usually knows the real reason they didn't show up.  It probably has something to do about the unit they are on in the nursing home or not being able to keep near enough to the bathroom.  There are always those who refuse to venture out because they aren't as pretty they used to be--or at least thought they were.  As for the rest of us we don't care how lame or decrepit or ugly we have become.  We just want to celebrate something and a good long time on earth seems like a good reason to get together. 

Besides that our lives mean something to each other.  Some of us have experienced 12 very formative years together.  Granted they were some of our most immature years but they all went into the mix that left marks and memories.  And we all surprised each other with our spirit and the way our best qualities have emerged as enduring and worthy.  I mourn those who almost never returned to claim an identity that was a part of the full 42l of us.  And, of course, I mourn those who died very young, one while we were yet Seniors and one the following summer.  I also mourn those who through the years and even quite recently have left us.

At each reunion someone remembers to bring some year books and pictures of those "the way we were" years.  We look at them and recognize that there is something unique and special about friendships that began to long ago and have lasted this long and the people who bother to gather to celebrate them. 

WHAT I HAVE WRITTEN I HAVE WRITTEN

One of the deepest satisfactions of my life has be writing.    Whether it has been rated bad or mediocre or even on a few occasions good is of little interest to me, although I would rather it be rmembered as at least acceptable. 

I really stumbled into the avocation without planning or great effort.  It began in high school when in the 11th grade I took an aptitude test.  I remember the specific  question as follows:  "A new product has been developed. You are hired to work for the company which manufactures this product.  Which of  these options would you choose?  Draw a model of it.  Sell it.  Write a description of it.  Work on improving it. 

I struggled between selling it and writing a description of it, finally choosing the writing part.  That choice intrigued me and the following year I volunteered to work on the school paper and wrote a couple of pieces for it.  Just to see those mimeographed columns that bore name was strangely addictive.  Thus in college at my first opportunity I chose a course in Creative Writing.  It involved a lot of writing of various kinds but somehow I missed the part on "how to write."  So I just wrote as it came to me but never really felt like a writer.

While in that course the denominational childrens' paper editor issued an invitation to write short stories for publication and I decided to try.  I sold a story which certainly was an encouragement.  At the same time I was chosen the school paper editor.  This called for the regular writing of editorials and of course trying to work with other writers.  Then during another year I wrote a humor column for the school paper.  I became well acquainted with deadlines and the discipline of producing whether one was inspired or not. Writing was becoming more than a fun thing to do--more like a discipline.

Of course there were term papers and these increased in number and required depth in seminary.  Even with the solemn subject matter and the demands of research it seemed to me that these  papers ought to be interesting.  They were never marked so by the professors. 

One of my majors was religious education and it was for that reason that even before graduation I was invited to write the outlines, planning and content for educational programs for the church press.  While it provided a little income in this type of writing there was little opportunity add a distinctive flair or polish.  I didn't consider it particularly creative.  But it opened the door to write Sunday school lessons.  Since I was young the editors felt I would be a natural fit for youth.  So I took several assignments in that department.  But either I wasn't that perfect fit or there was greater need for the writing of teacher guides and study aides so I was moved to that department.  I worked at that level for about 12 years writing usually two quarters a year.  The remuneration was important for, at first, a half-time job as pastor, and later an inadequate salary as a full-time pastor. 

During the same period of time I was editor of two conference periodicals.  Here I found opportunity for a creative outlet in the editorials or other articles as I weighed in on issues.  It during that time that I imagined what it would be like to be editor of the denominational organ but fortunately that was not in my future.  That post required some gifts that I didn't come near to possessing.

All this time my writing nearly always included the writing of minutes for committees, conferences and eventually the denominational General Board.  Minute keeping makes certain demands different from other writing but even making dry facts readable seemed to me to be important. 

Finally, there were sermons.  For the first eleven years of my sermonizing I preached from an outline.  Sometimes the outline was expanded to full sentences to make sure I remembered how to say something I considered important.  But then came an eleven year hiatus from preaching while engaged in administration.  In that short time I recognized a dramatic change in the congregation's expectations and tastes. The prospect of meeting the new demands was very intimidating.  The only way I could have any confidence that I might communicate the way I wanted to was to write out my sermons.  From my perspective it made a significant difference.  I could better put together the right words that expressed what I wanted to say.  Further I could better control the timing of my sermons when congregations were increasingly sensitive to the length of a service.  And when there were requests for copies of sermons they easily reproduced. 

Looking back over those years I have memories of late nights toiling over my portable Royal typewriter struggling to be creative, fill the word-count, and meet the deadline.  In spite of writer's block and bleary vision from want of sleep somehow the pages were filled with words and found their way into print.  I could look back and see only pure drudgery .  But that is all transformed  when along the way I have met a stranger who, when learning my name, pauses and says, "Oh, I remember you as a writer for Youth Teacher.  I taught adults but I always read you first because it gave me good ideas." 

I then have the joyous sense that maybe I fulfilled a part of my calling to communicate and that way I was a writer.

Any One For Change?

We are told there is an Arab Spring going on in the Middle East.  However, as events progress that Spring seems to be somewhat like our own this year in that it blows hot and cold until you might wonder where we are in the progression of the year.  There is plenty of revolution to go around but what the end result will be is pretty much up for grabs.

That is the trouble with most revolutions.  Big change is promised but instread there is only more of the same old.  The only difference is that different people are doing the same old thing.  If the political parties promise big change ther change amounts to the same as rearranging the furniture in the parlor or putting a slipcover on the sofa. 

The only revolution that really delivered as promised were the early Christians who preached Jesus Christ and Him crucified (and alive).  People and communities were so radically changed they upset every apple cart within hailing distance.  Take for instance the Apostles Paul and Silas who preached in Thessaloinica.  The response was so sweeping that the whole place was thrown into turmoil.  The explanation was that "These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also."  Acts 17.  That sounds like real revolution.

Or, take the time Pual pulled into Ephesus and "no little disturbance broke out concerning the Way (the way of Christ).  People actually began following this way rather than the way of an idol.  The makers of idols really got their shorts in a bunch and created a riot because, as they whimpered,  "we get our wealth from this business."  Acts 19

In the New Testament the gospel explodes all over the place.  From Jesus on, there was no shortage of revolt that changed the course of history convincingly.  In contrast, in our era great care is taken to make sure that the audience is soothed into believing that if we just do a little better whatever it is that we are doing, all will be well.  So the church lives with mouse-like trepidation before Caesar and Mammon, maintianing the staus quo with great earnestness.

Of course the case Caesar and Mammon make for themselves is that they are both undercover Christians.  So there is really nothing to rebel against.  You may now relax and let them look out for you welfare and benefit.  Their story line to the gullible is, "We will see to it that you will safe to live as you wish and you will never want.  See, we are really on your side.  Now just vote for our candidate, invest in me and your furture is secure."

Where that muddled thinking is followed there is the limp acceptance of a pale imitation of Christ which has the power of a stature on the Court House lawn.  There is no danger of revolutions there.  Not even a shiver of discontent.  Jesus came with a call to lead a movement that was radical it scared the most powerful and turned cowering wimps into those who defied the law and order of world empires.  These radicals were best described as "having been with Jesus."  That is the root of real revolution that produces real change.

What Did Jesus Do?

A column by Michael Gerson in the August 5, 2011 issue of the Washington Post titled "What Would Jesus Cut," raises a question that, in my opinion, needs serious thought. As Gerson explains, "With varied motivations, human beings tend to invoke the name of God in foxholes, in the throes of passion and in budget debates." And as he further notes, at least in terms of the budget debate, depending on which outcome is favored God seems to adjust the answer to fit that preference.

I have often heard it lamented that if only the Apostle Paul or Jesus were personally present we could be assued of the "right" answere to our problems. But interestingly when Jesus was present in the flesh and questions were brought to him, the answers he gave were often not satisfactory to the questioner. Sometimes he simply replied with another question, eg. "whose name and inscription is on the coin you hold?" Sometimes he gave a stunning answer that shook the questioner so badly he could only turn away in disbelief. And we wish Jesus were here so we could ask him in person....?

It is human to wish for the quick, easy answer to our perplexing problems. Being follower of Jesus is not intended to be a walk on the beach. But we would nuch rather have it handed to us in four easy steps. Spin the bible and the right verse floats to the top, obvious in its meaning and easy to apply.

So if by asking "what would Jesus do," we are hoping for affirmation for our own inclination or a simple rule to solve our problems we are asking in vain. The question would much better be aked, "What did Jesus do?" Stated that way we are better able to let the text speak for itself rather than assume that we know what Jesus would do were he in the situation we find ourselves.

But there is even a prior, crucial question that needs to be asked and which Jesus answered very early. That question is "Who is your God?" At twelve when Jesus was found in the temple he explained that he needed to be about his father's business. Later following his baptism he clarified to the tempter that he totally committed to the Heavenly Father and was taking orders only from God. It is in that context that he can discern the right choice even though it cut across every instinct he might have as a human being. Unless we, as well as the nation's politicians, have answered that question, we can ask "What would Jesus do?" until the cows come home and only come up with the answer that best benefits our own interests.

"A Man of Property"

One reason the old literary masters are masters is because their works are timeless. Timeless in terms, not only of a gripping tale well told, but also of a relevance that speaks to the present time. Even though we consider our times unique in some way or another we can read a writer of a previous century and find a vivid description of our own .

Such a writer was John Galesworthy (1867-1933). Yes, I know. I should have become intimately acquainted with him years ago. I could blame the small print in my college English Lit text and the few lines it accorded this very significant author but that would be giving myself a pass I don't deserve. I even ignored the PBS series a few years ago that featured The Forsyt Saga which is some of Galesworthy's finest writing.

So now I make this wonderful discovery by way of A Man of Property, the first in the Saga series. I found in this novel characters that were drawn so well that I was drawn into their lives and experiences set in England just before the turn of the century. They too were struggling with shifting moral standards, changing tastes and economic values of a society in which they thought ought to be stable and fixed.

The title denotes the issue that shapes the plot. Property is the guiding principle of the Forsyt's. Not only in real estate but all that a "man" might own which included their women. How that right to property is maintained then becomes a pressing question since other forces are at work to loosen that almost death grip. That conflict is played out in a number of venues. In court rooms, in family gatherings, in husband/wife conversations or silences, in trustee meetings men and women struggle with the question, how can I cling to what I have or keep my place in this shifting scene?

The question of the human relationship to property still remains an urgent one. It is argued and fought out on some of the same stages. Recent studies of the happiness of the wealthy show that even those with the most need estimate that they need at least ten persent more to feel secure. While some of those with wealth have become notable philanthropists others have determined that poverty is not a concern of theirs and since they have made it, everyone else can too. The handling of money and property still creates strains and tensions between husbands and wives and scrambles families.

I am grateful to John Galesworthy for helping me see the universality of this issue so that perhaps I, who have relatively little, can recognize myself as a man of property.

Sing and Shout and Pray

A few days ago when it was announced that President Mubarak of Egypt was gone without a bloody fight it seemed almost too good to be true. Peaceful solutions don't happen anymore--not in this world of terrorist attacks, ethnic cleansing, drug wars and decade-long wars. And especially not in a country where 90% or more of the population is of Muslim faith. There are those who tell us that all those people are violent, hateful and believe in nothing but "holy war." When lo and behold the dictator who had the police and the miliatary at his beck and call left the country with barely a shot being fired.

What was the secret to this astonishing turn of events when it had all the components of a bloody uprising? I know only what the media shared but I would gather this much. This multitude of thousands shouted and chanted slogans. They sang. And they prayed. The overhead pictures revealed hundreds and hundreds of people kneeling in orderly rows praying. They had also gathered stones--piles of them. But there were few targets.

There was that brief time when the hired thugs came charging through the throngs on horses and camels. There was resistance but in the huge crowd of people even horses and camels had no place to go, and badly outnumbered they soon turned tail.

Day after day, night after night the people were there. they listened to the hollow, vain promises of the dictator but would not be dissuaded. There they were, their voices worn to a whisper and yet they shouted and sing and prayed.

It echoed of a multitude marching around the walls of Jericho blowing tumpets and with a shout crumbling those impregnable walls. I was made to think of a desperate throng caught between sea and army listening to those strange words, "Stand still and see the salvation of God."

I can't say that the Egyptian revolution equals a biblical account of God's deliverance but it is aboundantly clear that if God works through world events God has writ large that it doesn't take AK 47s or bombs to bring about the change the oppressed long for. That just doesn't compute in this country that was birthed in a bloody conflict and has placed its faith firmly in weapons even those of mass destruction. Again and again in an effort to influence the course of events the first course taken is to export weapons. So we arm the world as well as ourselves ever becoming more fearful and insecure while a country of oppressed people shouts and sings and prays and gains their goal.

The Best of Old Friends

For a month I have been plowing through Solzhenitsyn's November 1916. His dense style makes finishing a test of self-discipline since it goes on for a thousand pages. On the plus side I am learning a great deal about the people of Russia as the commoners are described during World War I and the lead up to the Communist Revolution.

But as I waded doggedly ahead I came across a couple sentences that made me pause and reflect. "One thing's for sure, no matter how many marvelous people you meet later on, there's no one like the friend of your youth. No one else will ever be so close. If only because there's no one else with whom you can relieve your past in such detail. Your friend knows all about it, has shared it..."

With even brief reflection I have to say Solzhenitsyn has really nailed it for me. Immediately to mind come images of ten or twelve people who fit that category. And I find that the farther back we go the more significant they become. The very earliest through adolescent years somehow have a claim on my friendship that is beyond my explanation. It must be that together we experienced some of those earliest life-shaping experiences that will never be shared with anyone else. They alone know what it was like to be there, to see, to hear, to feel, to smell what will forever be indelibly imprinted on our minds and personalities. We each expereinced the same, but differently so the events have different meanings for each but we each remember and it is ours.

I shared the "church" experience with one adolescent/teen friend. While we had very different family experiences and eventually different life goals we shared much in the social realm. We played sports together and dated girls together. I think we admired each other for our different strengths and challenged each other to succeed.

One warm Sunday evening we either had no dates or took them home early. We drove toether to my house and instead of just stopping to let me off, he quickly turned off the lights and turned off the moter. For several long minutes we sat in silence listening to the crickets. Both of us were feeling we were in the vicinity of a crossroads. We scarecly knew how to say our thoughts. But eventually we got to the question, "Is this all there is?" And each of us rolled that question around as we thought as deeply as we knew how about the direction of life and what were our options.

His conclusion was different from mine in that months later he would say my course is set while I said there is a different way I must take. But our different choices were being made together and that gives our relationship a different quality. We shared a quiet hour when we were being "real" together, dealing with crucial issues in our "real" amateur way. That makes my friend special and one I will treasure always. The author is exactly right, "...there's no one like the friend of your youth."

A Nation of Nuts

Instead of wondering about the state of the union, Courtland Milloy, in a recent column in the Washington Post, (January 26, 2011) questions the nation's state of mind. He concludes that "we are one nutty nation." Of course some of us have suspected that for some time but Milloy gives us hard evidence that removes all doubt. In spite of the nations boasted education system and the claim that we are enlightened, practical people, recent trends would draw another conclusion.


He points out that the economic system is, as he says, "wacky" in that high unemplyment is good for the stock market, layoffs bring big bonuses for CEOs and tax cuts for the wealthy promise to produce jobs. What right-thinking people would construct that sort of system?

Then there are the ones who squeek through the recession managing to hang on to their houses now complaining that they are the victims of "frugality fatigue." That is assuaged with the purchase of 51-inch TVs. But if that fails to restore their souls there is the possibiltiyt of finding solace in getting high on bath salts. The only down side to that remedy is that it randomly prompts people to do such things as taking knives to slit their skin. But with a little creativity one can find other chemicals that provide equally unpredictable effects.

Milloy ticks off additional ways we have found to relieve our fears as well as self-destruct. Pills by the ton, booze by the gallon, heroin from liberated Afghanistan, cocain friendly South America, weed by the bale from Mexico. And wonder of wonders, "Starbucks is coming out with bucket-size cups of caffeine" to get us out of bed.

One might think the nation would now be coping with all its woes with joy and confidence. Instead the National Institute of Mental Health provides a list of common illnesses that afflict growing numbers. Among them are "generalized anxiety disorder," "anti'social personality disorder" and "poor behavioral controls." You can add to that "panic disorder" and you begin to understand why there are 300 million firearms in the hands of fearful citizens.

I would echo the closing lament of Milloy in this plaintive question: "How strong can the state of the union really be if our minds are so unsound?"

Reading the Constitution

It's big news just now that the United States House of Representatives has read the US Constitution, outloud, in public. Not a bad idea. If our representatives are to rule constitutionally they ought to know what the constitution says. It might also be observed that they ought to know what it says to even be elected.

So now they know. But knowing, alas, hardly equals doing. Right off the bat they conveniently omited one or two ammendments which they considered unworthy of notice. Further the Constitution is always subject to interpretation which means that conclusions on any issue will not be unanimous. The Supreme Court regularly divides four to five on cases brought before it. One group of law makers will advocate one law as best for the country and then accuse the disenters of being unconstitutional.

I find that there are similar attitudes toward the Constitution as there are toward the Scriptures. According to some they hold the former in such high esteem as to be as holy as the latter. They give the Constitutions framers a special relationship with God that gives their work an infaliable aura and what they intended an eternal value.

In spite of the supposed high esteem for each document both become a pretzel to be twisted into what ever shape the reader finds advantageous. For a time some defenders of the Ten Commandments worked mightly to have them cast in bronze and posted on Court House walls and in schools. For all the seeming reverance attributed to that word from the Lord, law makers as well as their constiuents went right on cheating on their wives, visiting prostitutes, taking bribes, lying, and flaunting the law, apologizing only after being caught.

What are we to expect from those who announce their loyalty to the Constitution when they play fast and loose with the Scriptures. It is clear that for the majority their decisions will be guided by whatever seems to be to their political advantage rather than a moral conviction that is formed either by a secular document or Divine revelation.

A Matter of Life and Death

The issue of Capital Punishment isn't high on the national agenda at the moment. But I was confronted with that reality in the reading of Richard North Patterson's Conviction.

This carefully researched novel published in 2005, presents the case of a young, Afro-American male, who is charged and tried along with his older brother in the horrendous abuse and murder of a young girl. Complicating the case is the fact that the younger brother is mentally challenged if not retarded. Following his conviction the appeals process is picked up by a white, female lawyer who enlists her son and father, also lawyers, to examine every aspect of his trial and conviction. What they find is that every means is used to block any effective challenge to the original verdict.

This oppostion is often based on the political ambition, demands for revenge, lazy detective work, equally lazy public defenders, racial bias and the conventional belief that someone has to die to satisfy justice.

Shorty after reading the book I saw two old movies, Young Mr. Lincoln and Twelve Angry Men. Both these dealt with murders and the role of public opinion in the fate of those charged. Both are powerful statements that the discernment of guilt is not easy and the public demand to convict and kill and based on emotions and pujudices that are blinding.

Neither the book nor the movies touch on the religious relevance to the issue. Of course, that is where I would begin in building such a case. I will not pursue that further; I would only say that if one examines the life and words of Jesus both will be found to establish the sacredness of human life and reveals a God who values and protects life rather than vengefully extracts the pound of flesh for every crime. I believe God expects the same respect and care of children.

"Justice Takes a Back Seat"

First off, let me be clear, if anyone feels the need to enter national politics, I say "go for it." Run for any federal office that can use your skills. And, if you are a devout Christian, that is okay by me. Give it your best shot. You may accomplish what no one has ever been able to do before.




But, let me also be clear. There is mounting evidence cited by people who seem to have a handle on the nature of politics and the way government functions that the best efforts of those who seek to bring about meaningful change are largely futile.




I refer first to a column by a columnist for Newsweek magazine, Lisa Miller. Writing in the May 10 issue she applauds the Catholic Bishops for their stand on immigration reform. They have found allies in Senators Schumer and Stupak who share their concerns for the "tired and poor." The bishops have looked diligently for others who might also take up the cause. Some say they might be willing to vote for reform "if it had a chance," but "they won't stake their political careers on it..." Miller concludes her column with this telling conclusion, "More evidence, if any were needed, that in an election year, justice takes a back seat to politics."




I would add, and what year is it in the life of a politician when reelection doesn't have a significant effect in the way one votes? Politics always seems to be in the driver's seat.




Even more devastating in its criticism of government at work is the book, Tempting Faith, an inside story of political seduction, by David Kuo. Mr. Kuo, according to the jacket blurb, "came to Washington wanting us use his Chritian faith to end abortion, strengthen marriage, and help the poor."



President George W. Bush had created the Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives and in major speechs had promised funding and follow-through for this effort. There was honest acknowledgement of the superior effectiveness of these kinds of efforts over government run programs.




Kuo and others who joined in these concerns took the President at his word with the conviction that "he was one of them," an earnest Christian who could be trusted. Kuo, along with assistants, worked diligently in gathering grass roots support to assure that the White House and Congress would take their promises seriously and put proposals into action.




But as the process unfolded it gradually became tragically clear to Kuo that instead of "following the teachings of Jesus to serve the needy [he] found himself helping to manipulate relgious faith for political gain." The legislative process was used as a football, not to pass laws but to deepen purely symbolic fault lines. Grants were incestuously recycled to political cronies." In spite of lofty promises there was simply no attept to fund valuable programs. Even more galling key aides and Republican operative spoke of those working in the OFBCI with contempt and treated them as "useful idiots."




A clear example of religion being used for political gain cited by Kuo is the Nation Day of prayer. It's only purpose as described by Kuo is to placate Christian leadership. He says organizers such as Shirley Dobson go on radio and describe their encounter with the president and their time in the White House. "The event, however, held absolutely no significance." Congressman Tony Hall , one of the people who helped pass the bill creating the breakfast in the 1980's stopped going to the breakfasts, seeing them as worthless. One staffer called the breakfast a "Jacob and Esau thing," a reference to Esau selling his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of cereal.




On his final day, Kuo delivered his resignation letter to Andy Card then summarized his experience this way. "The president had made great promses but they hadn't been delivered on. Worse than that, the White House hadn't tried. Worse than that, we had used people of faith fo further our political agenda and hadn't given them anything in return. And finally...your staff frequently refers to the faith-based initiative as the 'f*#$ing faith-based initiative.' "




The faith-based initiative may have be ill conceived or had real legal problems but it seems to me that the experience of Mr. Kuo strongly suggests that any effort that in any way even appears to compete with the prevailing priorities ofthe people in power will be given short shrift leaving the reformers with nothing but the memory of wasted time. Ultimately, where will the people in need be better served? Kuo concludes that Christians should "start with the things God has commanded us to do--pray, learn, listen him, and serve a hurting world."

Inspiration

I haven't given much thought to the phenomenon of "inspiration." I've been content to let it be a part of the origin of the scriptures and have refered to impressive programs, writings, music and worship experiences as inspirational. I've generally not delved too deeply into the role of inspiration, especially of scripture, because it seems to me some have made it into an argument to prove that all scripture is of equal value and its meaning lays on the surface because that is the way God said it


But once in a while as a preacher I have had an experience in the process of interpreting scripture that has caused me to consider more seriously the possibility of a spiritual revelation that comes from beyond my study and thought processes. It is a sudden insight that causes one to ask, "where did that come from?"

Recently I was preparing a bible study for a class at the Mennonite Retirement Community. Since it was in the Lenten season I chose a passage from Mark 10. I rather arbitrarily marked down verses 32-52, choosing a long section to make sure I wouldn't run out of material. It is an acount of Jesus traveling with the twelve disciples on his final trip to Jerusalem. There is this request from James and John to Jesus for preferential treatment when it came to upper level assignments in their version of the kingdom. Jesus counters with his probing questions which revel their ignorance of the nature of God's kingdom and concludes with the simple but profound key to greatness in that realm.

When I got to that point in my preparation I seemed to have gotten to the end of the story. In my bible there was not only a paragraph break but a dividing space of two lines which would indicate a break which would seem to say, "And now for something completely different." I read farther to make sure I had all the ends tied when it suddenly came to me that the author may have wanted to say something further about those self-seeking disciples who so brazenly angled for preferential treatment and nonchalantly answered Jesus' questions about how they would follow him.

For in the fianal paragraph of this chapter, vv. 46-52, Mark inserts the healing of the blind beggar and I suspect for good reason. It suddenly occured to me that the author wants to show the disciples for what they are, as blind as Bartimaeus, but unaware of it and certainly not willing to acknowledge it. For compare their approach to Jesus in contrast to that of Bartimaeus. "Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you." Bartimaeus only pleads for mercy, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"


The two requests are startling in their difference. On the one hand the disciples ask for a open ended approval of anything they ask for. And on the other Jesus asks the the beggar what he would like to have done for him. The disciples receive a rebuff for their thoughtless ambition while the humble beggar receives a life changing gift. While the disciples prove to be blind to the ways and designs of their teacher the blind beggar's eyes are opened and becomes a carrier of the evidence of the new kingdom.


Has this connection never been thought of before? Of course it has. I am only a Johnny-come-lately who catches on to the obvious rather slowly. But in that moment when the connection became clear it felt like inspiration in that I had received a gift of new understanding that was meaningful and I could pass on to others. I will need to consider further inspiration and how this is similar or different from the experience of the writers of scripture.

But for now the only response I can think of is " Thanks be to God!"

Maintaining the Peace

I over-slept this morning. I've decided I don't need an alarm and usually don't. Well, this morning I should have used one because I dozed 45 minutes too long. I raced off to my breakfast meeting and found that instead of being the first one there as I have been the last 20 years, I was the last. Had to squeeze in among the eight other breakfasters and when they looked quizzically my way I was ready.

"I decided to take a different view of the world," I explained. "this morning I even think we ought to repeal the 'health care' bill." Everyone burst out laughing. I guess coming from me that was a ridiculous streatch. I heard my friend beside me murmur, "I didn't think I would bring that up today."
He didn't and noone else did eather and we talked about real estate prices, NCAA playoff games, and the current trend to build smaller homes. It was a pleasant conversation with some good jokes thrown in for good measure.

You see, we've tried talking about politics and while noone has gotten hurt that I know of, it just seems safer to stick to non-controversial issues--the stuff we all either agree on or are not very deeply invested in. And, I suspect that as the rehetoric has heated up on the national level and in the media that we feel less comfortable identifying with one side or the other.

Of course, we know where everyone stands. I don't think I have pushed my views very hard but apparently what I think just comes through. Thus everyone thought it was out of character for me to even mention repealing the health care bill. We all respect each other for whatever view we hold and are ready to just let it be that way.

The reason I find this avoidance of issues acceptable is that in the matter of national politics what we individually hold doesn't really make any difference. If we were dealing with an issue with our life together in the church then I would find avoiding conversation unacceptable.

We will continue our Friday morning fellowship at breakfast in good spirits and even informative conversation some times even raising theological issues. Perhaps one of our more argumentive members will dare to voice a political opinion but I doubt that we will pursue it long nor in depth. And I am sure that in the mix there will be a joke or two to defuse the angst. Thus we will be a gathering of peacful people enjoying what each one brings and leaving the dead to bury their dead.

A Novel Approach

I should be clear that this post may have most interest for those who enjoy literature. Come to think of it, lovers of history might also find it tolerable. Others will likely be unimpressed. Just thought I would warn you. From here on its everyone for herself.

The book is Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope. I confess I should have read it years ago. Since it wasn't specifically assigned in one of those Lit courses at Hesston College or Goshen College I just let it slide by. Such inattention was my loss. I suppose another reason I neglected Trollope as an author is that one of his contemporaries was Dickens whose novels you would have to say are more compelling in that Dickens writes about a level of society that is more earthy and the social issues he exposes are more stirring.

Trollope is called a democratic realist. The rapid scientific developments of the day has shifted attention toward the individual as a rational, responsible person with awareness of possibilities and potential. The author therefore writes with the knowledge that his audience is expanding and a growing interest and curiosity. Growing out of the puritan and reforming spirit of the eara he writes not only to entertain but to expose.

Both Trollope and Dickens were mid-Victorian. Even the name of that era can be off-putting in that, from this distance, it reeks of pretentiousness and straight laced pomposity. And, to be sure all that is there in abundance. But beneath the surface of the pretense and form there is the human spirit experiencing all the glory and pathos of life that is real and hopeful.

In Barchester Towers, which is a cathedral city in England the 1850s, Trollope explores the lives of Anglican clergy, their wives, friends and competitors as they deal with the death of the bishop. That very normal event sets in play a whole range of emotions, strategy and reactions that builds to a wonderful resolution.


But as the plot or plots unfold, I recognized three themes taken from the Victorian age that were of particular interest to me, the role of the clergy in the Church of England, gender relationships and the pervasiveness of class in many areas of life.



The Church of England and the Clergy

The devastating earlier religious wars were over although competing movements still were abroad. There were reform movements that challenged the church leaders to keep the populace faithful and the powers that be happy. There was an underlying concern that the vicars and deacons be orthodox and educated in the right schools. However with the positions in the church also went money, power and prestige. So angling for choice appointments and impressing the right people were games played with energy and skill.

With higher positions went the advantages that resulted in lavish lifestyles without commencerate responsibility so that democratic reform was not always met with enthusiasm. A vicar who found himself in line for a new appointment might informed that with the new position went a mandate to begin a Sunday school and other increased responsibilities might think twice about the need to adjust his priorities.

Gender Relationships

The very specific ways of relating between the sexes that were part of the very fabric of society were under pressure by the democratic reforms. But while there might be hints of a leveling of the old rules, the forms and formality that prevailed earlier still were firm. Nevertheless, even while adhering to the formalities ways were found to gain one's purpose. It must be said that the manuvering and subtle ways of gaining one's ends increases the complexity of plots.

Interestingly, Trollope, as well as other Victorian authors were very aware of the reader and in order to be sure to be understood and catch on the subtility of the action sometimes took time out to address the reader directly. The author describes the qualities of the character as well as his intention so that the reader misses nothing of the implications of the particular action. It can become tedious with us who are impatient to move the plot along and get to the heavy stuff. In this novel these asides to the reader seem especially necessary when it comes to the interaction of men and women when the formalities of society keep them from communicating freely.

Where such stiff rules prevail there are always those who find ways to overcome their disadvantage and win their ends. Thus Trollope places almost at the center of his plot just such a scheming woman who proves to be one of the most powerful people in the novel. But like a number of his characters the reader both loaths and cheers these people who are at the same time both manipulative and heroic. In any case the travails of men and women trying to overcome barriers and find fulfillment are at the center of this movel.

Class

Always there is class. Even among the clergy there are those who are at the top and those who are forced to take what is left. In one case there is the poor vicar who is in a small parish with a very small stipend who struggles to make ends meet in supporting a wife and fourteen children.

Outside the clergy the distictions are more marked. In events that are arranged to accomodate the whole population, they are to be entertained in different areas. It is a horrible mistake if one finds themselves in the wrong place. A host or hostess goes through great agony if there is uncertainty as to where one belongs. For example, a gentleman farmer may be judged to be a person of means and yet at the same time have a low occupation. The wife especially will be considered out of place in either.

One also must dress to fit the category to which he is assigned or in the place she appears. Thus poor people with shabby clothing or a very limited wardrobe don't have a chance to be acceptable almost anywhere. There vocabulary also sets them apart as being more crude and uneducated.

In these ways and others Trollope exposes the times in which he lives. But what he has done is to vividly describe the human condition in a period of time that proves to be commentary on every age and every era. The rules have changed and the setting is different but the same ambitions, desires and habits are present in each. In typically victorian fashion Trollope has the good people win and they prsumably live happily ever after but the trials they face and the barriers they surmount are the same. The same question hangs over the final page of Barchester Towers as over a novel by Grisham, what will be the guiding goal of life, wealth, power, and poularily or selfless service?

A Funny Thing Happened On My Way to 90

My sister Elta just turned 92. Physically she doesn't seem to have much to go on. But up until a few months ago she was mentally sharp and had a quick sense of humor that just wouldn't give up. It was fun to be around her because she was always coming up with some clever one-liner that put a cute twist on situation that some people would miss all together or take it as ocassion for a rant or a complaint.



She confided that she didn't like to be asked how she was a dozen times a day, so when someone asked her answer was, "Just like I was yesterday." And if they followed up with "And how were you yesterday," she responded, "Oh, I forget." Even some possible grim situations got turned into funny stories, especially if they were about herself.



Like the time she told me that she was leaving the dinning room in her assisted care unit and when she got to the door she discovered she was pushing her chair instead of her walker. She said, "Well, you can imagine what I did--first thing I looked all around to see if anyone was watching."



Or the time she reminisced several times about carrying a bag of popcorn which she was munching on in her room. She reached up in a cabinet to retrive something when she lost her balance, fell backward and landed sprawled out on the floor, popcorn scattered far and wide. she gradually sat up, checked out her bones and found them all still connected. Deciding she might as well redeem the time while on the floor she worked her way around picking up the corn and eating it. Eventually someone came by or she rang the bell and help arrived but she had her popcorn taken care of.



While short term memory might be a problem some long term items were readily available for retelling. Those were often the ones that drew laughter from the family whenever they were told. Like the time Mother and Dad were entertaining company in the living room when our fox terrier, Terry, came proudly trotting into the room firmly holding Mother's corset in his teeth with the strings trailing along behind, then dropping his prize grandly in the middle of the floor.



Then there was the oft told tale of Dad teaching Mother to drive the 1913 model T Ford by having her drive the contraption into the garage. His instructions were no doubt as clear as mud and with Mother's nerves as taut as a high strung violin she got the general direction perfectly but didn't get the part about the brake and took model T directly into the back wall with Dad shouting, WHOA! WHOA! Elta had a number more, some less elegant but all with that twist of hilarity.

I must have inherited some of the same interest in recalling tales of yore, at least our visits always included sessions of "Can you top this." Of course over time there was some embelishment. It just proved that Mark Twain was right when he wrote in his biography: "When I was younger I could remember anything, whether it happened or not; but my faculties are decaying now and soon I shall be so that I can remember only those things that never happened. It is sad to go to pieces like this but we all have to do it."

Fortunately at this point, most of what I remember actually happened. I am sure others included in the story would remember it differently but every one had no trouble getting the humor. I was a a small boy, perhaps four or five. Dad's nephew and his new bride paid us a visit, it may have been on their honeymoon. Our small house had no extra bedrooms but there were always ways to make do. This night the newly weds were give my parents bedroom where I also slept. Dad and Mother moved upstairs and I was moved to the living room sofa. That sofa was just on the other side of the wall from the bedroom. The next morning at breakfast when everyone was assuring each other that they had a sound night of sleep, I piped up that I wondered about the sleeping part reported by our guests when "they were fighting all night." I don't remember any outright laughter but I do remember some sputtering of coffee and snorting of cereal.

Old age looks a lot better from the sunny side of the street. With a merry heart doing good like a medicine and hope I can keep a smile as my umbrella and the joy of the Lord as my strength.

Home For Christmas

I was a student at Hesston College--a million miles from home. Being in my second and final year did not make the distance any less. Already four weeks before Christmas I was counting the days until vacation and being at home. I was also editor of the Hesston College Journal and had one more edition to put to bed before heading East.

My mind was in no frame to write an editorial but I was backed up against a deadline and something had to fill that space. In desperation a pulled down a volumn of quotations. Maybe I could copy something that would satsify my word count. Under "Christmas" and under "Dickens" one line stood out like a string of blinking lights, "And I do go home at Christmas."

Don't ask me what work it is from or what followed that line. I didn't see any more than that. I could have gone on for a whole chapter on that idea. I had my editorial in twenty minutes. It hardly fit in a college periodical. Certainly not scholarly nor researched. It was simply the heartfelt ache of a homesick kid.

I guess every year since I have gone home at Christmas. Treasuring the memory of 60 Christmases. Beging with the one at 508 N. Elm, Nappanee to eight different homes. But wherever, finding there the beauty of family, the joy of being together, the richness of tradition, the secuity of faith, the wonder of love. Beginning with just two of us in a honeymoon cottage in Vineland, Ontario where our gifts were cautiously calculated because our resources were so limited. Later in Lombard, Illinois where the house was bulging with children home from school and the paper from our gifts would have filled a bale. In each place there is the warmth and delight of experiencing what all the cards wish for and portray as meaningful.

I do go home for Christmas and relive or rather live anew everything from the awesome quiet of a star filled night to the happy clamor of a family exulting in the joy of being toether at home for Christmas.

Words That Come and Go

I've noticed that some words are like clothing fads, they come in style and in five years they are all but forgotten. Remember during the eighties when everyone was fascinated by the new phenomena of satelites and electronic communication. Suddenly everyone was "down loading" and "up linking " or "off loading." It seemed rather ostentatious. One employer had his fill and posted this notice: "I will be down coming on the next person I hear saying down load and they will soon be out going." History doesn't record the result of that threat but those terms, in most circles, are only a memory.



More recently we were hearing a constant barrage of "robust." As I remember it was one of Don Rumsfeld's favorite terms. He had robust troop build-ups and robust offensives going all the time. Another phrase becoming threadbare and needing to be replaced is "at the end of the day." Apparently it is one of the rules of the United States Senate that no speech will be be on the floor or interview made on television that does not include "at the end of the day." What's wrong with "finally"? I sincerely hope that we are close to the end of the road with "at the end of the day."



"The bottom line" is a related phrase that made it big with the politicians and was sometimes picked up by the locals as indicating being knowledgable. Actually, it meant that you couldn't think of the phrase "in summary."



Finally, there is "going forward." This one is heard primarily among politicians. It seems to mean "in the future" but then I suppose "going forward" indicates that you know all about the future and are fearlessly progressing toward the solving of all problems.



These words too, will no doubt have their day and then receed into the bin of former catchy fads that have lost their appeal. May they rest in peace along with "spiffy" and "cool." Oops. You mean "cool" is alive and well? I guess the bottom line is that some words take longer to die than others.

Don't Trust the Crowd

I spend very little time in the financial pages of the newspaper but a heading caught my eye in the Nov. 22 edition of the Washington Post. It was by Bob Frick, Kiplinger writer on "Personal Finance." The heading read, "Don't trust the crowd if you value the truth."



Frick was commenting on the tendency of investment clubs to concentrate on one method of choosing their investments and not tolerate dissent in the group. Challenges to the prevailing opinion are often met with deep skepticism if not hostility. That phenomenon is called "group think" in which he explains, people seem to adandon reason and simply follow the crowd." Psychologists through experiments have concluded that humans seem to be hard-wired to believe what the crowd tells us. Further, tests show that disagreeing with a group stimulates the pain centers of the brain.



That may explain why the prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures spoke of themselves being in agony. Their lonely voices raised against the group think of their day gave them a perpetual headache. And, of course, their criticism of the policies and action of people in high places gave them the reputation of being a headache to those who wouldn't tolerate dissent.



The model for going against the stream of public opinion is Jesus. Following his daring act of cleansing the temple the were a number who observed this demonstration of discernment and authority and as well as other dramatic signs and decided that here was where there was excitment. After describing the event and the crowds reaction the gospel writer, John, concludes, "But Jesus on his part, would not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and need no one to testify about anyone; for he himself knew what was in everyone." John 2:23ff.



It was clear that the crowd is fickle, responding to unreliable whims and appetites. In short an unreliable guide. Especially is this true of a population for whom self-preservation and nationalistic pride is their ultimate concern. It seems this concern develops into a demonic spirit that is extremely difficult to resist or break. Inevitably it is wrong and leads to sorrow and loss.

What's a Budget Buster

David Broder is a serious pundit for the Washington Post and waxes as serious as he ever gets in the Sunday, Nov. 22 edition when he analyses the health care plan before the Congress. He takes the pessimistic view quoting studies that show there will be no savings and that it will be more costly in the long run, shot run, or in any run at all.



I doubt if Broder wrote the title to his piece at least the words do not appear anywhere in the column. The column is headed, "A budget-buster in the making." The title takes the piece to the extreme to create the maximum amount of skepticism and fear.



But it is curious to me that in the matter of health care for the nation's population that lacks there is this effort to claim it is too costly, dangerous, and disasterous. The nation has been dealing with budget busters for decades without a whimper. Bridges to nowhere have stretched to the horizon for years and the states smimply clammord for more. Subsidies have been doled out to various idustries and farmers like sugar cookies without one tear for the poor budget. And all wars win the instant status of "holy" and are funded willy-nilly without consideration for budgets or the future generations. The tack of the previous administration was to keep the cost of war out of the budget lest it been seen for what it is--a budget buster.



Meanwhile, out of sight is a "black budget," reported by Chalmers Johnson. Officially known as "Special Access Programs" which are devoted to secret millitary and intelligence spending. Unsupervised, and unreported, this budget is really a black hole into which billions of dollars disappear. There can be only an estimate of the total devoted to the secret projects which the GAO places at $30 to $35 billion per year. Where are the pundits, the congress people, the editors who lament the misuse of so much money that could be applied to the health and welfare of the nation?



But the funding of the military becomes a deep, dark secret that defies any effort to bring to light or bring to accountability. Again it is Chalmers Johnson who reveals that the deputy inspector general at the Pentagon "admitted that $4.4 trillion in adjustments to the Pentagon's books had to be cooked to compile...required financial statements and that $1.1 trillion...was simply gone and no one can be sure of when, where or to whom the money went."

It makes absolutely no sense to me that there are those who have a hissy fit every time a suggestion is made that health care will cost something and turn a blind eye to the ways in which the present way of spending money drives the nation into deep and dangerous debt. The national priorities are clearly set by powerful interests that benefit a priviledged class, primarily the indutrial/military complex rather than the desperate needs of people.