For Sunday, February 21, 2016

From Luke 10. The Bible.

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

“What is written in the Law?” Jesus replied. “How do you read it?”

He answered: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’’”

“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

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“Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbor. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good-luck pennies, and our lives. But neighbors give in return. We never put back into the tree what we took out of it: we had given him nothing, and it made me sad.” —Scout Finch from To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. b: April 28, 1926, d: February 19, 2016.

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God, forgive me when I become so full of vitriol, fear, hate, scorn and blindness that I can’t even see my neighbor anymore.

To LOL or to COL

As I think of our prospects for the future—Trump, Clinton, Cruz, Sanders, Rubio—my first thought is NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

But then I remember this:

"The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter." —Mark Twain

I’ve often struggled with knowing the appropriate places and times for humor. It’s sort of my go-to escape route for sad and depressing situations (like the 2016 presidential race). More than once in my life I’ve received admonishments like:

This is neither the time nor the place…
No one likes a smart aleck.
What are you, some kind of wisenheimer?

I’m not trying to say I’m funny, but sometimes I try. I want people to be happy.

I was however, recognized by my fourth grade teacher for my gift of humor, as well as my "gay outlook". She told my parents so in her letter at the end of the school year. (At the time though, I don’t remember her always appreciating my gifts.)

Speaking of politics, and sometimes having to laugh to keep from crying, Here’s a good one from comic Samantha Bee:

“Wednesday night, the Democrats met for a town hall where Bernie Sanders, dressed in what appears to be the Democratic Party’s big tent, played up his image of blustery old grandpa living off Social Security checks and stolen sugar packets.”

I refer to humor as a gift (one that I hope I have in some small measure), but I can’t find it in the Bible as a “gift”, like speaking in tongues or healing… But wait, I have been healed by humor many times; and to the humorless, bitter, mean people of the world you might as well be speaking in some unknown tongue when it comes to funny-speak.

So, where does God stand on humor? I won’t even presume. A wonderful old comic that I had the privilege of knowing was a guy named Grady Nutt. (How can you not be funny if you last name is “Nutt”. Right?) Grady observed that God must have a sense of humor. Why else would he have created us with our nose, which is prone to run, right above our mouth. And thankfully God placed it with the holes down, otherwise going for a walk in the rain could cause drowning.

“Theorists have been trying to explain humor as far back as Plato. The ancient Greek philosopher said humor got its power from the pleasure people get when they feel superior over others, laughing at their foibles and flaws. Freud saw it as a cathartic release from society’s repressions, thus explaining all our sex and fart jokes. And Hegel saw it as reconciling two normally incongruous spheres of meaning—i.e., showing a football player in a cheerleading outfit or putting a cat in human clothes.” —TheAtlantic.com

… or trying to actually picture Ted Cruz or The Donald in the Oval Office.

Please, David Letterman, come out of retirement. We need to laugh until it hurts so bad it hurts.

"USA Today has come out with a new survey - apparently, three out of every four people make up 75% of the population." --David Letterman

"I’m just trying to make a smudge on the collective unconscious." --David Letterman

For Sunday, February 7, 2016

Psalm 127. A PILGRIM SONG OF SOLOMON

If GOD doesn’t build the house,
        the builders only build shacks.
    If GOD doesn’t guard the city,
        the night watchman might as well nap.
It’s useless to rise early and go to bed late,
        and work your worried fingers to the bone.
    Don’t you know he enjoys
        giving rest to those he loves?
 
Don’t you see that children are GOD’S best gift?
        the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?
Like a warrior’s fistful of arrows
        are the children of a vigorous youth.

Oh, how blessed are you parents,
        with your quivers full of children!

    Your enemies don’t stand a chance against you;
        you’ll sweep them right off your doorstep.
 

pops and his "arrows", celebrating our 2016 birthdays.

The Family Chain (More on Multi-Generational)

(sort of continued from the last post)

THINK OF IT THIS WAY:

Take a look at this picture and try to imagine it if any one of the links in those chains were missing. The experience would be impossible—the dreamlike wonder of that little girl, the suspension, the moment, the photo…

By the way, the little girl in that picture; that’s Karlee. Her dad took that picture. Her dad is my son.

We are all links in a familial, multi-generational chain. I realize that makes it all sound so social-sciencey, but FAMILY is sort of the mother of all multi-generational relationships.

Let’s start with the individual links, singly, on their own. Each of us has something to offer. Each has a genesis, a beginning. Each has a story and is a part of a story. Each has the capacity to be generative (or degenerative, unfortunately).

And while some have gifts and talents that may be more apparent than others, we all have something we can offer. We are all links and therefore essential. My gifts may be different from yours, but that doesn’t make mine or yours any better or more needed.

For several years I had the privilege of serving on the board of directors of the International Arts Movement in New York City. The founder, Mako Fujimura taught me so much about the concept of being “generative”. I think of Mako and those ideas frequently. That experience altered me—for the better. If you want to know what I’m talking about you can read a part of his essay on the subject here: On Becoming Generative: An Introduction to Culture Care.

What happens when a link in the multi-generational chain breaks, or goes missing. Whether through a death, alienation, separation or disappearance, it happens to every family. Maybe it’s like when we played Red Rover on the playground in grade school. Some force from the other side would come running toward our frail little human chain and slam against what they presumed was our weakest link. If they broke through, they would claim one of our members. We would simply close the gap, hold hands, reestablish the link, hopefully with a stronger tie this time. Who was this “Red Rover” anyway. And why did we keep imploring her/him to send someone over. Why not just keep our little chain intact? Maybe life just doesn’t work that way.

This summer my Mom and Dad will celebrate 70 years of marriage. Maybe I’ve taken that link for granted. In all of my 65 years I have never once wondered if their bond was weak, or in danger of breaking. Of course you don’t get to the ages of 91 and 88 without some outside threats to the links in the chain.

Last night I talked to a dear friend in Atlanta. His mom is struggling with health issues. I could hear in his voice the pain of realizing that at some point the chain breaks. Maybe as a friend, but still an outsider, we can still hold hands while the chain heals. Maybe sometimes the family chain extends beyond the strict biology. After all a link is a link even if we’re a weaker link.