Saturday, October 30, 2004
New Osama tape surfaces...
...which pretty much means that John Kerry just lost the election. Like I needed another reason to hate Osama...
Friday, October 29, 2004
The Things You Do For Love
My next-door neighbor when I was a kid was a big ex-G.I. named Jack. He was big and strong and the whole neighborhood would shake on those occasions when he would yell at his dogs, which was most every day. Looking back, he was never anything less than kind towards us neighborhood kids—provided we weren’t foolhardy enough to date his daughter—but we always made extra sure to stay on his good side just the same.
There was one thing about Jack that kept all of us kids curious. We noticed that when he was out mowing the lawn without a shirt on or reaching out from under his truck to grab a wrench, Jack had the most remarkable thing tattooed to his arm: a woman wearing a long-sleeved gown. This didn’t make sense. My great uncle was a World War Two veteran and he had a dragon tattooed on his arm. My friends and I once saw a biker at Ron’s Variety Store who had a big skull and crossbones etched in his arm. So why would big, burly Jack be caught waltzing around with a school marm prominently displayed on his forearm?
I never did work up the courage to ask him about it. But I did the next best thing—I asked his wife, Helen, while he was at work. Turns out that she was a widow with a young son when her and Jack met. Jack was good to her; he was good to her son. The courtship was rightly assumed by everyone to be progressing to marriage until one day the woman saw Jack in a short–sleeved shirt: he had a tattoo of a naked lady on his arm! Jack explained that it was a souvenir he discovered after he came to from a weekend on shore leave!
It didn’t really matter to Helen what state of consciousness he was in when he had the offending tattoo applied. She had her own self-respect to consider, and she also had her young son to think about. Although it was painful, she told Jack that she could never, ever marry a man with something like that tattooed on his arm.
Since laser-removal didn’t exist back in the fifties, and it was unlikely that he could find a doctor willing to do a frivolous amputation, Jack did the only thing he could do to undo his mistake and re-win Helen’s love: He had an evening gown tattooed overtop of the woman! He showed up at the woman’s apartment with an engagement ring and a short-sleeved shirt and love triumphed! The ribbing he received from the guys at the steel mill didn’t compare to the joy he had over his newfound family.
It’s funny the things people will do for love. We spend so much of our time trying to give the appearance of having it all under control, but for the sake of love, we’re so willing to play the fool. Taking dancing lessons… Walking through the mall carrying a giant stuffed-animal gift… Wearing matching sweaters… The ridicule you may incur from the odd coworker that you run into—and believe me, you will run into a coworker—still seems a decent trade for the affection you’ll receive. Zacchaeus was one of the most foolish people in all of the gospels, and this is the story of the very wise thing he did:
Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. He wanted to see who Jesus was, but being a short man he could not, because of the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way. (Luke 19: 1 – 4)
Zacchaeus was what you would call a white-collar criminal. He was just as much of a thief as a purse-snatcher, but he got away with his thievery because he did it weekdays from 9 to 5. His racket was to collect taxes for the Roman Empire from his neighbors. The beauty of it was that Rome allowed him to set his own commission rate. So in a busy center of commerce like Jericho, Zacchaeus was able to shake a lot of extra drachmas out of people.
As you can probably imagine, everybody hated this guy. Even more than people hate Martha Stewart. But there wasn’t much they could do about him, because if things got out of hand—say a taxpayer revolt—Zacchaeus could pick up his cell-phone and have the Roman National Guard there in a heartbeat. Now, he had to be kind of careful about how often he called, because if Rome got the impression that he wasn’t capable of managing his territory they could always appoint somebody else as chief tax collector.
So above all else, it was important that Zacchaeus carried himself with dignity and authority. So what does he do when Jesus comes to town? He climbs up a tree! I guess we all have moments when the facade slips and we’re seen in a less than dignified light. He had probably heard enough rumors about Jesus that his curiosity to observe this amazing teacher beat out his pride.
When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today." So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly. All the people saw this and began to mutter, "He has gone to be the guest of a 'sinner.' " (Luke 19: 5 – 7)
Usually the scriptures say that the Pharisees were the ones doing the muttering. But in Zacchaeus’ case it says all the people began to mutter. Everybody really hated this guy! The victimized people didn’t understand that Zacchaeus, for all his credit cards, the Mini Cooper, and the pool in the back yard was in reality wretchedly, wretchedly poor. He was suffering from what Mother Theresa called “the most terrible poverty” of all—“loneliness and the feeling of being unloved.”
So can you imagine what it must have felt like to Zacchaeus when Jesus called him down out of the tree? The lump in the throat, the heart skipping a beat, the sting of holding back tears, the indescribable wow that radiates out from your heart to the rest of your body… I’m kind of surprised that Zacchaeus didn’t fall right out of the tree.
Jesus did something very brave that day: He allowed his own reputation to be damaged so that he could reach out in love to Zacchaeus. He didn’t allow his ministry to people to be confined by any man-made social or religious construct. And we would do well to follow in his example. I’m not that old, but I’ve seen plenty of evangelism efforts come and go in my time. I remember revival meetings, coffeehouses, bus ministry, Chick Tracts, Evangelism Explosion, cell groups, Christian concerts, music festivals, Promise Keepers and Billy Graham Films. I remember when we were “gonna win the world for Jesus” by 1980, 1990, and 2000. I guess the new figure getting kicked around is 2020. It’s not my intention to denigrate anyone’s effort. But I do wonder what would happen if we took a break from all the programs and simply do as Jesus did, which was to extend hospitality to all people? It would probably never sell!
But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, "Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount." Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost." Luke 19: 8 - 10
No one infuriates people so like the white-collar criminal: his crimes are hard to investigate and even harder to prosecute. It’s so easy for the perpetrator to rationalize his behavior, too, when he’s embezzling money rather than, say, snatching purses, because he doesn’t feel like a criminal. But Zacchaeus doesn’t pull a Kenneth Lay and say but I’m only the CEO. Instead, he melts under the grace and love that is lavished on him by the Christ. In response to the connection he makes with God, he also reconnects to his fellow Israelites and offers charity and a restitution well above the guidelines outlined in the law. So often we talk about salvation as if it’s a spiritual abstraction or formula. But the story of Zacchaeus demonstrates a salvation that’s not only a spiritual restoration, but a physical and emotional restoration in the community as well.
We aren’t that unlike Zacchaeus, are we? In our own unique and personal and even sometimes ridiculous ways we climb our own tree to catch a glimpse of the Christ. The things we do for love: We visit a church… We read the Bible… We volunteer... We begin to pray again… And we experience those wonderful moments when we are struck by the realization that we aren’t so much the seeker, as the sought after. Truly in the end, we understand that we aren’t even the one on a tree—that place reserved for Christ alone.
The things a person will do for love!
There was one thing about Jack that kept all of us kids curious. We noticed that when he was out mowing the lawn without a shirt on or reaching out from under his truck to grab a wrench, Jack had the most remarkable thing tattooed to his arm: a woman wearing a long-sleeved gown. This didn’t make sense. My great uncle was a World War Two veteran and he had a dragon tattooed on his arm. My friends and I once saw a biker at Ron’s Variety Store who had a big skull and crossbones etched in his arm. So why would big, burly Jack be caught waltzing around with a school marm prominently displayed on his forearm?
I never did work up the courage to ask him about it. But I did the next best thing—I asked his wife, Helen, while he was at work. Turns out that she was a widow with a young son when her and Jack met. Jack was good to her; he was good to her son. The courtship was rightly assumed by everyone to be progressing to marriage until one day the woman saw Jack in a short–sleeved shirt: he had a tattoo of a naked lady on his arm! Jack explained that it was a souvenir he discovered after he came to from a weekend on shore leave!
It didn’t really matter to Helen what state of consciousness he was in when he had the offending tattoo applied. She had her own self-respect to consider, and she also had her young son to think about. Although it was painful, she told Jack that she could never, ever marry a man with something like that tattooed on his arm.
Since laser-removal didn’t exist back in the fifties, and it was unlikely that he could find a doctor willing to do a frivolous amputation, Jack did the only thing he could do to undo his mistake and re-win Helen’s love: He had an evening gown tattooed overtop of the woman! He showed up at the woman’s apartment with an engagement ring and a short-sleeved shirt and love triumphed! The ribbing he received from the guys at the steel mill didn’t compare to the joy he had over his newfound family.
It’s funny the things people will do for love. We spend so much of our time trying to give the appearance of having it all under control, but for the sake of love, we’re so willing to play the fool. Taking dancing lessons… Walking through the mall carrying a giant stuffed-animal gift… Wearing matching sweaters… The ridicule you may incur from the odd coworker that you run into—and believe me, you will run into a coworker—still seems a decent trade for the affection you’ll receive. Zacchaeus was one of the most foolish people in all of the gospels, and this is the story of the very wise thing he did:
Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. He wanted to see who Jesus was, but being a short man he could not, because of the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way. (Luke 19: 1 – 4)
Zacchaeus was what you would call a white-collar criminal. He was just as much of a thief as a purse-snatcher, but he got away with his thievery because he did it weekdays from 9 to 5. His racket was to collect taxes for the Roman Empire from his neighbors. The beauty of it was that Rome allowed him to set his own commission rate. So in a busy center of commerce like Jericho, Zacchaeus was able to shake a lot of extra drachmas out of people.
As you can probably imagine, everybody hated this guy. Even more than people hate Martha Stewart. But there wasn’t much they could do about him, because if things got out of hand—say a taxpayer revolt—Zacchaeus could pick up his cell-phone and have the Roman National Guard there in a heartbeat. Now, he had to be kind of careful about how often he called, because if Rome got the impression that he wasn’t capable of managing his territory they could always appoint somebody else as chief tax collector.
So above all else, it was important that Zacchaeus carried himself with dignity and authority. So what does he do when Jesus comes to town? He climbs up a tree! I guess we all have moments when the facade slips and we’re seen in a less than dignified light. He had probably heard enough rumors about Jesus that his curiosity to observe this amazing teacher beat out his pride.
When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today." So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly. All the people saw this and began to mutter, "He has gone to be the guest of a 'sinner.' " (Luke 19: 5 – 7)
Usually the scriptures say that the Pharisees were the ones doing the muttering. But in Zacchaeus’ case it says all the people began to mutter. Everybody really hated this guy! The victimized people didn’t understand that Zacchaeus, for all his credit cards, the Mini Cooper, and the pool in the back yard was in reality wretchedly, wretchedly poor. He was suffering from what Mother Theresa called “the most terrible poverty” of all—“loneliness and the feeling of being unloved.”
So can you imagine what it must have felt like to Zacchaeus when Jesus called him down out of the tree? The lump in the throat, the heart skipping a beat, the sting of holding back tears, the indescribable wow that radiates out from your heart to the rest of your body… I’m kind of surprised that Zacchaeus didn’t fall right out of the tree.
Jesus did something very brave that day: He allowed his own reputation to be damaged so that he could reach out in love to Zacchaeus. He didn’t allow his ministry to people to be confined by any man-made social or religious construct. And we would do well to follow in his example. I’m not that old, but I’ve seen plenty of evangelism efforts come and go in my time. I remember revival meetings, coffeehouses, bus ministry, Chick Tracts, Evangelism Explosion, cell groups, Christian concerts, music festivals, Promise Keepers and Billy Graham Films. I remember when we were “gonna win the world for Jesus” by 1980, 1990, and 2000. I guess the new figure getting kicked around is 2020. It’s not my intention to denigrate anyone’s effort. But I do wonder what would happen if we took a break from all the programs and simply do as Jesus did, which was to extend hospitality to all people? It would probably never sell!
But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, "Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount." Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost." Luke 19: 8 - 10
No one infuriates people so like the white-collar criminal: his crimes are hard to investigate and even harder to prosecute. It’s so easy for the perpetrator to rationalize his behavior, too, when he’s embezzling money rather than, say, snatching purses, because he doesn’t feel like a criminal. But Zacchaeus doesn’t pull a Kenneth Lay and say but I’m only the CEO. Instead, he melts under the grace and love that is lavished on him by the Christ. In response to the connection he makes with God, he also reconnects to his fellow Israelites and offers charity and a restitution well above the guidelines outlined in the law. So often we talk about salvation as if it’s a spiritual abstraction or formula. But the story of Zacchaeus demonstrates a salvation that’s not only a spiritual restoration, but a physical and emotional restoration in the community as well.
We aren’t that unlike Zacchaeus, are we? In our own unique and personal and even sometimes ridiculous ways we climb our own tree to catch a glimpse of the Christ. The things we do for love: We visit a church… We read the Bible… We volunteer... We begin to pray again… And we experience those wonderful moments when we are struck by the realization that we aren’t so much the seeker, as the sought after. Truly in the end, we understand that we aren’t even the one on a tree—that place reserved for Christ alone.
The things a person will do for love!
Monday, October 25, 2004
ILL-LEGAL
I've noticed that my local radio station has taken to pronouncing eighteen-year old girls "legal" during their birthday announcements, as in, Birthday wishes going out to Jane So-and-So of Jamestown who turns legal today... Is it just me overreacting or is that rude? It's not like I'm listening to Howard Stern -- this is a little radio station in the middle of the cow patch I call home. I realize that some magazines and websites have countdown clocks ticking away every second until Hilary Duff's or Lindsay Lohan's respective eighteenth birthdays, but when did this kind of crudeness become mainstream?
Sunday, October 24, 2004
A+ Weekend
I think I just had the best weekend ever! Here's 16 reasons why:
- Friday, 8:30 am: I woke up and ate a stromboli for breakfast just because I could.
- Friday, noon: I met with some agencies who are very interested in some cooperative work with young people in Chautauqua County.
- Friday, 2:30 pm: I hightailed it to Fredonia where Lamont got her tattoo modified. As I sat in the waiting room, listening to Lamont scream (just kidding), I noticed that someone had left reprints of vintage Mad Magazines lying around. Ah! Comedy, thy name is Melvin!
- Friday, 4:30 pm. I check my e-mail and find out that a satire piece Mr. X and I wrote may be published in an upcoming issue of The Door Magazine.
- Friday, 9 pm: Experiment House open its doors to thirteen people of varying ages from our church for pizza and board games.
- Saturday, 8:30 am: My daughter surprises me with breakfast.
- Saturday, 10 am: I skip the yardwork calling me and take a three-hour nap while Lamont is out shopping.
- Saturday, 2:30 pm: My son and I work on vintage Aurora Monster Model Kits in honor of the upcoming Halloween holiday.
- Saturday, 7 pm: One of my good friends calls me out of the blue to go to laser tag. Hilarity ensues.
- Saturday, 10 pm: Cheap Seats on ESPN Classic.
- Saturday, 10:30 pm: Another episode of Cheap Seats on ESPN Classic.
- Saturday, 11 pm: The best night's sleep in ages begins.
- Sunday, 9:30 am: The best Sunday morning meeting in ages. The musicians sounded great, no one slept through my sermon. We had the largest attendance in ages, and it included a number of people I've been praying for. There was a real sense of community there today.
- Sunday, 11 am: A member of our college group phones me and tells me that there's a $5 bin of MGM Midnite Movies at Wal-Mart.
- Sunday, 11:01 am: I pee my pants.
- Sunday, noon: I buy At Earth's Core, The Dunwich Horror, Twice Told Tales, and X-The Man With the X-Ray Eyes at Wal-Mart.
- Sunday, 2 pm: Dinner and hanging out at my mom's house in Warren. We watch 3 of the DVDs.
- Sunday, 9 pm: I jump onto Blogger and write this posting.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Guilty Pleasures
I don't get too much opportunity to watch TV with two kids in the house. Sometimes I think all of our cable TV could be cut off with one exception - Nickelodeon - and no one would notice. I don't invest too much in new TV shows anyhow. With the exception of the ever-popular Simpsons, every new program I enjoy is dealt a quick death by the morons that program the networks. Remember Freaks and Geeks, Firefly, or Andy Richter Controls the Universe? Those were my favorite shows of each new TV season. It's as if I'm the black widow of TV fans...
Well, my latest favorite picks are Drew Carey's Green Screen Show and Cheap Seats.
Drew Carey's Green Screen Show picks up where Who's Line Is It Anyway left off. So many of the comedians followed Drew from ABC to The WB that one could easily assume that it's the same show. The big difference is that in this show the comedians are superimposed over cartoon and computer generated backgrounds. My family is split over the special effects: I think they're kind of distracting, whilst my son thinks they make the whole show. Still, I love improv and it's a nice half-hour diversion.
I discovered Cheap Seats one evening when I couldn't sleep. I was channel surfing and came across this show where there were comedians Randy and Jason Sklar riffing over an old episode of the Wide World of Sports. It reminded me a lot of Mystery Science Theater 3000, and for the first time in my life I actually watched the sports channel!
My apologies to the producers of Drew Carey's Green Screen Show and Cheap Seats. My glowing reviews have now cursed you. Expect to get a pink slip from your respective broadcasting companies by December at the very latest.
Well, my latest favorite picks are Drew Carey's Green Screen Show and Cheap Seats.
Drew Carey's Green Screen Show picks up where Who's Line Is It Anyway left off. So many of the comedians followed Drew from ABC to The WB that one could easily assume that it's the same show. The big difference is that in this show the comedians are superimposed over cartoon and computer generated backgrounds. My family is split over the special effects: I think they're kind of distracting, whilst my son thinks they make the whole show. Still, I love improv and it's a nice half-hour diversion.
I discovered Cheap Seats one evening when I couldn't sleep. I was channel surfing and came across this show where there were comedians Randy and Jason Sklar riffing over an old episode of the Wide World of Sports. It reminded me a lot of Mystery Science Theater 3000, and for the first time in my life I actually watched the sports channel!
My apologies to the producers of Drew Carey's Green Screen Show and Cheap Seats. My glowing reviews have now cursed you. Expect to get a pink slip from your respective broadcasting companies by December at the very latest.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Not-God
It’s neat to see how God can bring good out of the worst circumstances. Take Bill, for instance. He was a New York Stockbroker with a bright future ahead of him, at least until the stock market crash of 1929, when he lost everything. A few years later he found himself an out-of-control drunk living with his in-laws because his addiction made him incapable of holding a job.
Nothing seemed to help Bill get off the bottle—not his willpower, not his wife’s concern, not hospital stays, and not even a barbiturate-and-belladonna treatment at a sanitarium. One day Bill had an epiphany: the best way to help himself overcome his addiction was to help someone else who was struggling with the same problem. It worked!
He eventually began to meet with other people struggling with addiction and even wrote down his principles of sobriety in a book. The organization Bill W. founded in 1935, Alcoholics Anonymous, has helped millions of people all over the world reach sobriety. The simple philosophy behind A.A. has been adapted with great success to people struggling with other addictions, helping even millions more.
The first of the twelve steps states, “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.” It’s such an obvious idea, but such a hard step to take. What is it about people that we blench so against admitting—even to ourselves, let alone other people—that we may not have everything in our lives under control?
To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.' (Luke 18: 9 – 12)
If you were a Jew in Jesus’ day, you would have looked up to the Pharisee. After all, he was one of the devoted few who kept the flame of religion and Israeli nationalism alive during the Roman occupation. Jewish law required people to go without food and water for religious purposes one day a year; the Pharisee did it twice a week. Jewish law required people to donate ten percent of the produce of his fields; the Pharisee gave ten percent of everything he had.
The Pharisee wasn’t the only person praying in the temple that day. There was a tax–collector there, too. And the two of them being there at the same time would have been striking to an observer. The Pharisee was one of those religious folk that you almost can’t imagine having a life outside of church—they become part of the building. The tax-collector, on the other hand, was the type of visitor that makes you keep your eye on the offering plate. He collected taxes for the occupying enemy forces, and if that didn’t make him the unpopular-guy-of-the-year, I don’t know what would! But the tax collector had a purpose in being there, and it wasn’t something nefarious.
"But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner.' (Luke 18: 13)
Leave it to a traitor and thieve to make a scene… The Pharisee could make a prayer sound like the sweetest music, and you could have listened to him all day and a good part of the night, too. But this breast-beating tax collector caused a scene with his anguish, even if he was standing as far towards the back of the room as he could manage.
If you were listening to Jesus telling this story for the first time in A.D. 30 or whatever, I guarantee that you would have never seen the twist-ending coming. You would have expected Jesus to pronounce judgment on the traitor for his life of crime or tell him that it wasn’t any use praying until he got his act together like the Pharisee, but never in a million years would you have guessed what he said about the tax-collector:
"I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." (Luke 18: 14)
To use Alcoholics Anonymous terminology, the Pharisee was living in a state of denial. To assure himself of his standing with God, he compared himself to others. On the other hand, the tax–collector was the guy who had hit rock bottom and had nowhere else to look but up. He compared himself to a Holy God and cried out for mercy.
And that’s the only sane thing for any of us to do. The Psalmist wrote there is no one righteous, no, not even one and I’ve never read a truer word. I do, however, have to remind myself that the not even one bit includes me.
Sometimes the church has gotten off-track in regard to the message it sends to people. For instance, I can turn on Christian broadcasting and hear all about the abortionists, the pornographers, atheists, and the homos who are messing the country up. What I rarely, if ever, hear about how people will know we are Christians by our love or even a hint that perhaps we Christians, by our inactivity with the culture-at-large have our share of blame for the world’s woes. It’s almost as if we’ve set up radio stations, TV channels, bookstores and rock bands to continually send out the message I’m so glad I’m not like the tax collector!
It’s not surprising that this attitude doesn’t help people find God. It doesn’t even help Christians, either, because it works against the community of believers. So many times we assume that everyone else sitting in the congregation has their act together, so we never really feel comfortable or safe opening up to anyone. Could you imagine how different the church would be if we all stopped pretending and just came clean that we are all recovering sinners? Bill W. wrote, "Because of our kinship in suffering our channels of contact have always been charged with the language of the heart." He was writing in the context of alcoholic group support, but I think that it should just as easily apply to a group of Christians.
Nothing seemed to help Bill get off the bottle—not his willpower, not his wife’s concern, not hospital stays, and not even a barbiturate-and-belladonna treatment at a sanitarium. One day Bill had an epiphany: the best way to help himself overcome his addiction was to help someone else who was struggling with the same problem. It worked!
He eventually began to meet with other people struggling with addiction and even wrote down his principles of sobriety in a book. The organization Bill W. founded in 1935, Alcoholics Anonymous, has helped millions of people all over the world reach sobriety. The simple philosophy behind A.A. has been adapted with great success to people struggling with other addictions, helping even millions more.
The first of the twelve steps states, “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.” It’s such an obvious idea, but such a hard step to take. What is it about people that we blench so against admitting—even to ourselves, let alone other people—that we may not have everything in our lives under control?
To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.' (Luke 18: 9 – 12)
If you were a Jew in Jesus’ day, you would have looked up to the Pharisee. After all, he was one of the devoted few who kept the flame of religion and Israeli nationalism alive during the Roman occupation. Jewish law required people to go without food and water for religious purposes one day a year; the Pharisee did it twice a week. Jewish law required people to donate ten percent of the produce of his fields; the Pharisee gave ten percent of everything he had.
The Pharisee wasn’t the only person praying in the temple that day. There was a tax–collector there, too. And the two of them being there at the same time would have been striking to an observer. The Pharisee was one of those religious folk that you almost can’t imagine having a life outside of church—they become part of the building. The tax-collector, on the other hand, was the type of visitor that makes you keep your eye on the offering plate. He collected taxes for the occupying enemy forces, and if that didn’t make him the unpopular-guy-of-the-year, I don’t know what would! But the tax collector had a purpose in being there, and it wasn’t something nefarious.
"But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner.' (Luke 18: 13)
Leave it to a traitor and thieve to make a scene… The Pharisee could make a prayer sound like the sweetest music, and you could have listened to him all day and a good part of the night, too. But this breast-beating tax collector caused a scene with his anguish, even if he was standing as far towards the back of the room as he could manage.
If you were listening to Jesus telling this story for the first time in A.D. 30 or whatever, I guarantee that you would have never seen the twist-ending coming. You would have expected Jesus to pronounce judgment on the traitor for his life of crime or tell him that it wasn’t any use praying until he got his act together like the Pharisee, but never in a million years would you have guessed what he said about the tax-collector:
"I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." (Luke 18: 14)
To use Alcoholics Anonymous terminology, the Pharisee was living in a state of denial. To assure himself of his standing with God, he compared himself to others. On the other hand, the tax–collector was the guy who had hit rock bottom and had nowhere else to look but up. He compared himself to a Holy God and cried out for mercy.
And that’s the only sane thing for any of us to do. The Psalmist wrote there is no one righteous, no, not even one and I’ve never read a truer word. I do, however, have to remind myself that the not even one bit includes me.
Sometimes the church has gotten off-track in regard to the message it sends to people. For instance, I can turn on Christian broadcasting and hear all about the abortionists, the pornographers, atheists, and the homos who are messing the country up. What I rarely, if ever, hear about how people will know we are Christians by our love or even a hint that perhaps we Christians, by our inactivity with the culture-at-large have our share of blame for the world’s woes. It’s almost as if we’ve set up radio stations, TV channels, bookstores and rock bands to continually send out the message I’m so glad I’m not like the tax collector!
It’s not surprising that this attitude doesn’t help people find God. It doesn’t even help Christians, either, because it works against the community of believers. So many times we assume that everyone else sitting in the congregation has their act together, so we never really feel comfortable or safe opening up to anyone. Could you imagine how different the church would be if we all stopped pretending and just came clean that we are all recovering sinners? Bill W. wrote, "Because of our kinship in suffering our channels of contact have always been charged with the language of the heart." He was writing in the context of alcoholic group support, but I think that it should just as easily apply to a group of Christians.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Three, Schmee!
I love DVDs. They let me relive my childhood, or at least the parts spent sitting in front of the TV. What a minute. That pretty much was my whole childhood. Anyhow, in the last three years I've amassed quite the collection of low-budget horror and sci-fi films. It's always fun to watch someone's reaction when they browse through my movie shelf and pause at titles like The Thing With 2 Heads or The Giant Gila Monster. This has led a few of my friends to conclude that my entire collection consists of old American-International Pictures and Hammer Horror flicks.
That's untrue. I have a quite a few episodes of Doctor Who, too.
Actually, there are more than a few Hollywood Blockbusters lining the shelves -- The Lord of the Rings, The Matrix, Signs, and Spider-Man, just to name a few. I've lately been enjoying both my Star Wars and Indiana Jones trilogies.
In fact, it was my viewing of the adventures of Luke Skywalker and Indy that prompted me to look up the all-time box office champs on the Internet Movie Database. I remember back in high school when almost all the movies in the top ten had the names Speilberg or Lucas attached and I wanted to see if the situation had changed. Boy, has it ever.
The number one box office film of all time is Titanic, proving that women can go to movies en masse. I had avoided this whole phenomenon back in the early 90s, because I didn't see a point in watching a movie when the ending was already apparent. The ship sinks! The ship sinks! I would warn my female coworkers to no avail. Then they would show up for work the next day sobbing with red swollen eyes. Go figure. But Titanic made over 600 million for movie theaters and easily double that amount for Kleenex manufacturers.
The number two film was easy enough to predict -- Star Wars. I don't think there's ever been quite as perfect of a fantasy film and I don't think there ever will be. No gripes here.
Then I continued down the list: Shrek 2 at number three, E.T at number four, The Phantom Menace at number five...
Wait a second. Did I just type Shrek-freaking-2 as the number three box office champ of all-time? How the heck did that happen? I do concede that it was a pleasant enough diversion for kids, but NUMBER THREE? That many people went to see a so-so sequel about an ogre and his bride who looks like a green-skinned Oprah Winfrey? I just can't fathom that this film was that significant to Americans. I can't honestly imagine people having the same kind of emotional reactions that they had with Titanic, Star Wars or E.T.:
"Everytime I think of Donkey I can't stop crying!"
or
"This film changed movies forever. I went to NYU film school to be a director because of Shrek 2."
or
"Shrek 2 made me hungry for Reese's Pieces!"
Number Three. I demand a recount. And I bet that's not the only time you're going to read those words in the next three weeks!
BADA-BING!
That's untrue. I have a quite a few episodes of Doctor Who, too.
Actually, there are more than a few Hollywood Blockbusters lining the shelves -- The Lord of the Rings, The Matrix, Signs, and Spider-Man, just to name a few. I've lately been enjoying both my Star Wars and Indiana Jones trilogies.
In fact, it was my viewing of the adventures of Luke Skywalker and Indy that prompted me to look up the all-time box office champs on the Internet Movie Database. I remember back in high school when almost all the movies in the top ten had the names Speilberg or Lucas attached and I wanted to see if the situation had changed. Boy, has it ever.
The number one box office film of all time is Titanic, proving that women can go to movies en masse. I had avoided this whole phenomenon back in the early 90s, because I didn't see a point in watching a movie when the ending was already apparent. The ship sinks! The ship sinks! I would warn my female coworkers to no avail. Then they would show up for work the next day sobbing with red swollen eyes. Go figure. But Titanic made over 600 million for movie theaters and easily double that amount for Kleenex manufacturers.
The number two film was easy enough to predict -- Star Wars. I don't think there's ever been quite as perfect of a fantasy film and I don't think there ever will be. No gripes here.
Then I continued down the list: Shrek 2 at number three, E.T at number four, The Phantom Menace at number five...
Wait a second. Did I just type Shrek-freaking-2 as the number three box office champ of all-time? How the heck did that happen? I do concede that it was a pleasant enough diversion for kids, but NUMBER THREE? That many people went to see a so-so sequel about an ogre and his bride who looks like a green-skinned Oprah Winfrey? I just can't fathom that this film was that significant to Americans. I can't honestly imagine people having the same kind of emotional reactions that they had with Titanic, Star Wars or E.T.:
"Everytime I think of Donkey I can't stop crying!"
or
"This film changed movies forever. I went to NYU film school to be a director because of Shrek 2."
or
"Shrek 2 made me hungry for Reese's Pieces!"
Number Three. I demand a recount. And I bet that's not the only time you're going to read those words in the next three weeks!
BADA-BING!
Saturday, October 16, 2004
Totally Suspect
What in the world do people have against skateboarders? Everywhere I go I see NO SKATEBOARDING signs. Downtown merchants complain about them as if these kids are to blame for a 30-year decline in business. In my hometown, the city actually dismantled a skate park that was built by private contributions.
When the media is clogged with warnings about childhood obesity and sedentary lifestyles why do communities consistently single out a group of kids who are spending their afternoons and weekends outdoors doing physical activity? It doesn’t make sense.
My seven-year old got a skateboard for his birthday. I’m happy to encourage him. Skateboarding is the only popular sport I can think of that tells a kid right upfront that there’s going to be a lot of scrapes and bruises on the road to becoming proficient. So when N-- wipes out—and believe me, he does—he dusts himself off and gets back on the board. You need to keep at it. That’s a good lesson to learn as kid.
It’s a lesson I need to recall from time to time because life’s not easy. And what it demands of me frequently wearies me out and wears me down. I desire to be the rugged individualist who lives life against the grain, but often in reflection admit that I’ve been following the path of least resistance despite my best efforts. Just like a kid who wipes out on a skateboard, I have to make a decision to lie there or get back up when life throws me off-balance.
The twelve disciples had lived their share of discouragement and disappointment in their travels with Jesus. They don’t know it yet, but their lives are going to become a whole lot more complicated real soon. They’re on their way to Jerusalem, where Jesus will get caught up in a kangaroo court, receive the death penalty, and be executed.
Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. He said: "In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared about men. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, 'Grant me justice against my adversary.' (Luke 18: 1 – 3)
A fair trial before an impartial judge should be a given; sadly, the morning paper tells us that isn’t always the case. Take the judge in Jesus’ story, for instance. The guy is in a position of power where his word is law. He disregards a couple of thousand years of Jewish law and doesn’t give much thought to public opinion polls, either. This is the judge in all those car chase and women in prison movies of the 1970s. You’re in MY county, now, boy!
The widow, on the other hand, doesn’t posses any power at all. She didn’t inherit her husband’s estate when he passed on—that went to the male heir. The only Social Security she had was the kindness of others. The fact that she’s in court at all is pretty crazy in itself—women didn’t have legal status in ancient Israel. Faced with overwhelming odds, the woman doesn’t give up. She keeps showing up in court to pester the judge!
"For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, 'Even though I don't fear God or care about men, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won't eventually wear me out with her coming!' " (Luke 18: 4 – 5)
In the translation of this scripture from Hebrew to English we lose one of the genuinely funny passages of the whole Bible. The phrase “wear me out” had a double meaning. One is the obvious meaning that we understand today, but it also meant to “give someone a black eye.” So what the Judge is really saying at the end of the story is I‘m not afraid of God’s wrath or people’s protests, but I’ll tell you what I am afraid of—that lady’s right hook! Judgment for the plaintiff!
Talk about a punchline!
And the Lord said, "Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?" (Luke 18: 6 – 8)
I don’t have a lot of faith in our government or the political process. But come November 2nd, I’ll head into a voting booth to select those politicians that in my estimation will best work for the common good. If after Watergate, Iran-Contra, Read-My-Lips, Monica, and Haliburton I can still muster up enough faith to pull a lever and hope for a better world, how much more security can I have in a God who knows what I need before I even ask Him?
Oswald Chambers writes:
“The true test of a person’s spiritual life and character is not what he does in the extraordinary moments of life, but what he does during the ordinary times when there is nothing tremendous or exciting happening… It is painful work to get in step with God and to keep pace with Him—it means getting your second wind spiritually… God’s Spirit changes…our way of looking at things, and then things begin to be possible which before were impossible. Getting into God’s stride means nothing less than oneness with Him. It takes a long time to get there, but keep at it. Don’t give up because the pain is intense right now—get on with it, and before long you will find that you have a new vision and a new purpose.”
Dust yourself off and try again. It’s good advice for skateboarders. It’s even better advice for followers of Christ.
When the media is clogged with warnings about childhood obesity and sedentary lifestyles why do communities consistently single out a group of kids who are spending their afternoons and weekends outdoors doing physical activity? It doesn’t make sense.
My seven-year old got a skateboard for his birthday. I’m happy to encourage him. Skateboarding is the only popular sport I can think of that tells a kid right upfront that there’s going to be a lot of scrapes and bruises on the road to becoming proficient. So when N-- wipes out—and believe me, he does—he dusts himself off and gets back on the board. You need to keep at it. That’s a good lesson to learn as kid.
It’s a lesson I need to recall from time to time because life’s not easy. And what it demands of me frequently wearies me out and wears me down. I desire to be the rugged individualist who lives life against the grain, but often in reflection admit that I’ve been following the path of least resistance despite my best efforts. Just like a kid who wipes out on a skateboard, I have to make a decision to lie there or get back up when life throws me off-balance.
The twelve disciples had lived their share of discouragement and disappointment in their travels with Jesus. They don’t know it yet, but their lives are going to become a whole lot more complicated real soon. They’re on their way to Jerusalem, where Jesus will get caught up in a kangaroo court, receive the death penalty, and be executed.
Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. He said: "In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared about men. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, 'Grant me justice against my adversary.' (Luke 18: 1 – 3)
A fair trial before an impartial judge should be a given; sadly, the morning paper tells us that isn’t always the case. Take the judge in Jesus’ story, for instance. The guy is in a position of power where his word is law. He disregards a couple of thousand years of Jewish law and doesn’t give much thought to public opinion polls, either. This is the judge in all those car chase and women in prison movies of the 1970s. You’re in MY county, now, boy!
The widow, on the other hand, doesn’t posses any power at all. She didn’t inherit her husband’s estate when he passed on—that went to the male heir. The only Social Security she had was the kindness of others. The fact that she’s in court at all is pretty crazy in itself—women didn’t have legal status in ancient Israel. Faced with overwhelming odds, the woman doesn’t give up. She keeps showing up in court to pester the judge!
"For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, 'Even though I don't fear God or care about men, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won't eventually wear me out with her coming!' " (Luke 18: 4 – 5)
In the translation of this scripture from Hebrew to English we lose one of the genuinely funny passages of the whole Bible. The phrase “wear me out” had a double meaning. One is the obvious meaning that we understand today, but it also meant to “give someone a black eye.” So what the Judge is really saying at the end of the story is I‘m not afraid of God’s wrath or people’s protests, but I’ll tell you what I am afraid of—that lady’s right hook! Judgment for the plaintiff!
Talk about a punchline!
And the Lord said, "Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?" (Luke 18: 6 – 8)
I don’t have a lot of faith in our government or the political process. But come November 2nd, I’ll head into a voting booth to select those politicians that in my estimation will best work for the common good. If after Watergate, Iran-Contra, Read-My-Lips, Monica, and Haliburton I can still muster up enough faith to pull a lever and hope for a better world, how much more security can I have in a God who knows what I need before I even ask Him?
Oswald Chambers writes:
“The true test of a person’s spiritual life and character is not what he does in the extraordinary moments of life, but what he does during the ordinary times when there is nothing tremendous or exciting happening… It is painful work to get in step with God and to keep pace with Him—it means getting your second wind spiritually… God’s Spirit changes…our way of looking at things, and then things begin to be possible which before were impossible. Getting into God’s stride means nothing less than oneness with Him. It takes a long time to get there, but keep at it. Don’t give up because the pain is intense right now—get on with it, and before long you will find that you have a new vision and a new purpose.”
Dust yourself off and try again. It’s good advice for skateboarders. It’s even better advice for followers of Christ.
Monday, October 11, 2004
Quote of the Week: Experience vs. Creed
I'm working my way through Brennan Manning's book The Signature of Jesus. I'm still chewing on a quote I read last evening: "The gift of my own faith in Jesus Christ does not depend or rely upon any power outside of my graced experience. When beliefs replace such actual experience, when we lose the authority of knowing and rely on the authority of books, institutions, or leaders, when we let religion interpose between us and the primary experience of Jesus as the Christ, we lose the reality religion itself describes as ultimate."
Intriguing stuff.
Intriguing stuff.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Do my friends at Experiment House know me or what?
So it turns out that I (Lamont) am a.....
These are a few individuals that I have personality type in common:
John F. Kennedy, Benjamin Franklin, Leonardo DiCaprio, Kate Winslet, Elizabeth Taylor, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Steven Spielberg, Federico Fellini, Richard Feynman, Timothy Leary, Robin Williams, Jim Carey, Mike Myers, Cameron Diaz, Bette Midler, Chuck Berry, Elton John, Mick Jagger, Gianni Versace, Liza Minelli, Joan Collins, Sarah Ferguson, Larry King, Joan Rivers, Regis Philbin, Howard Stern, John Belushi, and "Auntie Mame" (Mame).
and we are known to be:
The Busy, Fun-Loving Type - Spontaneous, Versatile, Acquisitive, and Scattered
Here are a few interesting things I've discovered about personalities. The group you fall into will most likely be consistant for "most of your life", you can be a primary personality type with a secondary personality tendency, and that quizzing yourself can and will place you in a state of complete shock in learning that Howard Stern and yourself share the same personality type! I rather think he would have fallen into the "creepy" category. Then again, this experiment isn't about Howard - it's about myself and the Experiment House crew.
I fell into this type with the difference of one question between another category. In fact, when I took the quiz for a second time, it came out to be a complete tie. I'll let you guess what my secondary personality type is, if you like. But it's nice to know that the secondary type isn't so self absorbed as the enthusiast's is.
So as a basic overview of getting along with my type of personality, here are a few tips:
Don't try to cause me pain or I might pop you one on a bad day.
Give me attention when I need it a space when I don't.
Always expect me to be on the go.
I appreciate the small things in life and find deep meaning in everyday things.
I like to share my excitement with those around me.
I am a multi-tasking and multi-talented.
I am a sincere friend.
Hopefully, due to my counter balancing second place personality I will remain free of some of the unhealthy characteristics associated with enthusiasts:
Self-centered, materialistic, and greedy, addictive, hardened, and insensitive.
Addictions and excess take their toll: debauched, depraved, dissipated escapists, offensive and abusive. Often give up on themselves and life: deep depression and despair, self-destructive overdoses, impulsive suicide. Generally corresponds to the Manic-Depressive and Histrionic personality disorders.
How ironic that enthusiasts that become unhealthy often give up on themselves and life. But never fear. at this point I think I fairly healthy and stable. In fact I be more likely to write a poem about the awesome colors of fall than the impending cold of the coming winter. Heck in winter I get to make snowmen anyway. Cold - HAH!
Let me know what you think friends - I may be an enthusiast first, but what do you think comes in second?
These are a few individuals that I have personality type in common:
John F. Kennedy, Benjamin Franklin, Leonardo DiCaprio, Kate Winslet, Elizabeth Taylor, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Steven Spielberg, Federico Fellini, Richard Feynman, Timothy Leary, Robin Williams, Jim Carey, Mike Myers, Cameron Diaz, Bette Midler, Chuck Berry, Elton John, Mick Jagger, Gianni Versace, Liza Minelli, Joan Collins, Sarah Ferguson, Larry King, Joan Rivers, Regis Philbin, Howard Stern, John Belushi, and "Auntie Mame" (Mame).
and we are known to be:
The Busy, Fun-Loving Type - Spontaneous, Versatile, Acquisitive, and Scattered
Here are a few interesting things I've discovered about personalities. The group you fall into will most likely be consistant for "most of your life", you can be a primary personality type with a secondary personality tendency, and that quizzing yourself can and will place you in a state of complete shock in learning that Howard Stern and yourself share the same personality type! I rather think he would have fallen into the "creepy" category. Then again, this experiment isn't about Howard - it's about myself and the Experiment House crew.
I fell into this type with the difference of one question between another category. In fact, when I took the quiz for a second time, it came out to be a complete tie. I'll let you guess what my secondary personality type is, if you like. But it's nice to know that the secondary type isn't so self absorbed as the enthusiast's is.
So as a basic overview of getting along with my type of personality, here are a few tips:
Don't try to cause me pain or I might pop you one on a bad day.
Give me attention when I need it a space when I don't.
Always expect me to be on the go.
I appreciate the small things in life and find deep meaning in everyday things.
I like to share my excitement with those around me.
I am a multi-tasking and multi-talented.
I am a sincere friend.
Hopefully, due to my counter balancing second place personality I will remain free of some of the unhealthy characteristics associated with enthusiasts:
Self-centered, materialistic, and greedy, addictive, hardened, and insensitive.
Addictions and excess take their toll: debauched, depraved, dissipated escapists, offensive and abusive. Often give up on themselves and life: deep depression and despair, self-destructive overdoses, impulsive suicide. Generally corresponds to the Manic-Depressive and Histrionic personality disorders.
How ironic that enthusiasts that become unhealthy often give up on themselves and life. But never fear. at this point I think I fairly healthy and stable. In fact I be more likely to write a poem about the awesome colors of fall than the impending cold of the coming winter. Heck in winter I get to make snowmen anyway. Cold - HAH!
Let me know what you think friends - I may be an enthusiast first, but what do you think comes in second?
I.F.'s Disposition Condition
Well... It's Friday, and as promised I took my Enneagram Personality Test. The free test, which is described as a ten-minute exam, only took me about two minutes to complete. I hope that didn't mess up the results.
The Enneagram personality types aren't written in general terms as if they were going inside a fortune cookie. Even though it's natural to see a little bit of yourself in each of the categories, each type paints a pretty specific picture. The Enthusiast, for example, isn't my personality at all. (But I'm guessing that someone else at Experiment House will get that verdict...) I really wanted to be the Individualist. It just sounded cool. But I scored much higher in two different categories.
With no further delay, the personality type that got the gold by one slim point was:
I really like the idea of being perceptive and innovative, because it makes me sound like Sherlock Holmes or Doctor Who. But secretive and isolated? Why do all the other personality types get lovable personality quirks in a "wacky TV neighbor" sort of way, but I get secretive and isolated? It makes me sound like any day know I'm going to pick up where Ted Kaczynski left off. But I have to remind myself that the internet is never wrong, so I have to take the good with the bad!
It also says that my key motivations are: "[Wanting] to possess knowledge, to understand the environment, to have everything figured out as a way of defending the self from threats from the environment." I wouldn't have worded it quite that way, but I can agree with that.
The other cool thing about the Enneagram website is that it describes how specific character traits for a personality type develop in healthy, average, and unhealthy scenarios. I discovered that if I'm emotionally well adjusted I will become "visionary and profound." That's good -- somebody please remember to say that at my funeral! If I'm just a slacker and decide to go with the flow I will most likely still end up being described as "studious and acquiring technique." Come to think of it, that's probably where I am right now! ...Oh yeah, if I really fall apart emotionally, I may have a "psychotic break with reality."
Check your mailbox!
The Enneagram personality types aren't written in general terms as if they were going inside a fortune cookie. Even though it's natural to see a little bit of yourself in each of the categories, each type paints a pretty specific picture. The Enthusiast, for example, isn't my personality at all. (But I'm guessing that someone else at Experiment House will get that verdict...) I really wanted to be the Individualist. It just sounded cool. But I scored much higher in two different categories.
With no further delay, the personality type that got the gold by one slim point was:
I really like the idea of being perceptive and innovative, because it makes me sound like Sherlock Holmes or Doctor Who. But secretive and isolated? Why do all the other personality types get lovable personality quirks in a "wacky TV neighbor" sort of way, but I get secretive and isolated? It makes me sound like any day know I'm going to pick up where Ted Kaczynski left off. But I have to remind myself that the internet is never wrong, so I have to take the good with the bad!
It also says that my key motivations are: "[Wanting] to possess knowledge, to understand the environment, to have everything figured out as a way of defending the self from threats from the environment." I wouldn't have worded it quite that way, but I can agree with that.
The other cool thing about the Enneagram website is that it describes how specific character traits for a personality type develop in healthy, average, and unhealthy scenarios. I discovered that if I'm emotionally well adjusted I will become "visionary and profound." That's good -- somebody please remember to say that at my funeral! If I'm just a slacker and decide to go with the flow I will most likely still end up being described as "studious and acquiring technique." Come to think of it, that's probably where I am right now! ...Oh yeah, if I really fall apart emotionally, I may have a "psychotic break with reality."
Check your mailbox!
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Blog History Will Be Made!
The Enneagram is an ancient personality test with its beginnings shrouded deep in the mists of time. I'm not sure why the ancients were that concerned about their personality types, but that's what the internet tells me and you know it's never wrong. It's pronounced any-uh-gram by the way.
Since we've received so many e-mails from people lately about Experiment House and those who call it home, we've decided to let our readers get to know us better by taking personality tests and posting the results on this very blog tomorrow. Even though the free test will require 10 minutes of our time, we believe that YOU, the reader, are worth it. The test by the way is located at the website for the Enneagram Institute.
Will tomorrow be a day of joyous self-discovery at Experiment House? Or will we all be humiliated when our personality defects are revealed to the whole information superhighway? Find out when our results are posted tomorrow!
Since we've received so many e-mails from people lately about Experiment House and those who call it home, we've decided to let our readers get to know us better by taking personality tests and posting the results on this very blog tomorrow. Even though the free test will require 10 minutes of our time, we believe that YOU, the reader, are worth it. The test by the way is located at the website for the Enneagram Institute.
Will tomorrow be a day of joyous self-discovery at Experiment House? Or will we all be humiliated when our personality defects are revealed to the whole information superhighway? Find out when our results are posted tomorrow!
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
The Girl Behind the Screen Door
I saw something the other day that I just can't seem to shake. It was moment so intense that my mind captured the image leaving a permanent tattoo in my soul.
I was doing my job, dropping kids off after group and after I walked a child safely to their door and climbed into and sat down in a 15 passenger van full of chattering kids - my forward glance was captured by a pair of eyes.
The eyes looked not thru me, but into me. Sharing a lonely but trusting glance that can only come from a child. She was four of five years old. Her hair was braided into an ebony honeycomb on the very top of her head. Her brown skin shown warm in the afternoon sun, hi-lighting her huge charcoal eyes peering at me over the top of a rusty screen door.
At first her eyes looked empty, rather like a light-bright toy before it's plugged in. It's a state of soul that I often witness because I work with underprivileged kids every day. So sad, looking like the commercials you see about starving children other side of the world, except these are kids that live in my world. These kids aren't just starved for food, they're starving for love.
I smiled at her like I smile at all the kids. I don't give polite half-smiles. It's not something I really think about because I always smile, "Up to my eyes.". When my son was two or three, he would laugh at me because when we would play he'd tell me "Mommy, you smile up to your eyes." It was his way toddler way of telling me he loved it when I didn't hold my joy inside. To this day I have coworkers, parents and kids that give me nicknames like: Sunshine, The Pied Piper, or my personal favorite... Mary Poppins. Even to this day, if I want a grinning picture of my kids, I'll tell them - "That's it, smile up to your eyes!"
At first it looked as if those hollow eyes didn't know what to do. It reminded me of watching a new born colt trying to stand for the first time. Her eyes were just as unsure and wobbly as colts legs, but they were determined to sure up and make it. I couldn't see anymore of that child's face then the bridge of her nose, as she stood on tiptoe to peer back at me. Wobbly on tiptoe - but determined to make a connection with someone, with me.
In a moment, my smile was returned to me in the glimmering upturned smiling eyes of a child. The light-bright was plugged in and all the slots were full. The emotion of happiness expressed in that moment took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. All I could do was smile back in return and pop my hand up to say "Hello" through the tinted glass of my windshield and the crisscross metal of her screen. The connection was made and she waved back to me with a small dimpled hand.
I kept eye contact with her until we pulled off of her dead end street and back out on the main road to take the rest of the group kids home. As I rode shotgun and my partner drove, I told her how powerful that 30 second eye contact exchange had been. She mentioned that she had noticed the girl when I waved at her, but I was the one that had "caught her eyes".
I thought about that as we drove past run-down houses and autumn trees. I caught her eyes, but I sent her mine.
I wonder how many times a day that little girl peeks out the screen hoping to make contact with someone else? Maybe she's o.k. and her family treats her well; but there was something in the way she looked at me that make me think I may have been the only friendly "Hello" all day.
I'm not sure why moments like this happen. There was something about her eyes and the emotion they conveyed that made me want to tell you about it. I felt her despair, hope, expectation, joy and awe all in the matter of a minute or less. Thank you little girl behind the screen door. Your eyes hold more wonder and potential than you will ever know. Whatever happens, keep smiling up to your eyes.
I was doing my job, dropping kids off after group and after I walked a child safely to their door and climbed into and sat down in a 15 passenger van full of chattering kids - my forward glance was captured by a pair of eyes.
The eyes looked not thru me, but into me. Sharing a lonely but trusting glance that can only come from a child. She was four of five years old. Her hair was braided into an ebony honeycomb on the very top of her head. Her brown skin shown warm in the afternoon sun, hi-lighting her huge charcoal eyes peering at me over the top of a rusty screen door.
At first her eyes looked empty, rather like a light-bright toy before it's plugged in. It's a state of soul that I often witness because I work with underprivileged kids every day. So sad, looking like the commercials you see about starving children other side of the world, except these are kids that live in my world. These kids aren't just starved for food, they're starving for love.
I smiled at her like I smile at all the kids. I don't give polite half-smiles. It's not something I really think about because I always smile, "Up to my eyes.". When my son was two or three, he would laugh at me because when we would play he'd tell me "Mommy, you smile up to your eyes." It was his way toddler way of telling me he loved it when I didn't hold my joy inside. To this day I have coworkers, parents and kids that give me nicknames like: Sunshine, The Pied Piper, or my personal favorite... Mary Poppins. Even to this day, if I want a grinning picture of my kids, I'll tell them - "That's it, smile up to your eyes!"
At first it looked as if those hollow eyes didn't know what to do. It reminded me of watching a new born colt trying to stand for the first time. Her eyes were just as unsure and wobbly as colts legs, but they were determined to sure up and make it. I couldn't see anymore of that child's face then the bridge of her nose, as she stood on tiptoe to peer back at me. Wobbly on tiptoe - but determined to make a connection with someone, with me.
In a moment, my smile was returned to me in the glimmering upturned smiling eyes of a child. The light-bright was plugged in and all the slots were full. The emotion of happiness expressed in that moment took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. All I could do was smile back in return and pop my hand up to say "Hello" through the tinted glass of my windshield and the crisscross metal of her screen. The connection was made and she waved back to me with a small dimpled hand.
I kept eye contact with her until we pulled off of her dead end street and back out on the main road to take the rest of the group kids home. As I rode shotgun and my partner drove, I told her how powerful that 30 second eye contact exchange had been. She mentioned that she had noticed the girl when I waved at her, but I was the one that had "caught her eyes".
I thought about that as we drove past run-down houses and autumn trees. I caught her eyes, but I sent her mine.
I wonder how many times a day that little girl peeks out the screen hoping to make contact with someone else? Maybe she's o.k. and her family treats her well; but there was something in the way she looked at me that make me think I may have been the only friendly "Hello" all day.
I'm not sure why moments like this happen. There was something about her eyes and the emotion they conveyed that made me want to tell you about it. I felt her despair, hope, expectation, joy and awe all in the matter of a minute or less. Thank you little girl behind the screen door. Your eyes hold more wonder and potential than you will ever know. Whatever happens, keep smiling up to your eyes.
V.P. TV!
I was actually thinking about skipping the Vice-Presidential Debate last night. I mean, really, how important a factor is the running mate when selecting a presidential candidate? (Except that Who-am-I-why-am-I-here guy that ran with Ross Perot.) Every four years the news media have to remind the short attention-spaned American public what the Vice-President's job is for Pete's Sake! Everyone knows that the President lives in the White House, but does anyone know where the Vice-President and his family live? Does anyone care?
I had firmly decided on watching a remake of Frankenstein on the Hallmark Channel instead when my civic responsibility kicked in and I flipped over to CNN. I'm glad I did. Gwen Ifill of PBS was an excellent moderator who asked some excellent -- and I imagine somewhat uncomfortable -- questions of both candidates. The candidates were really punchy, and I must admit that Cheney comes off a heck of a lot better than his boss. I just don't buy his rhetoric.
As with spinoffs of a popular TV shows, I didn't have high hopes for the debate last night. But I turned out to be wrong. If the first Presidential debate was The Mary Tyler Moore Show, then the vice-Presidential debate was more of a Rhoda than a Phyllis.
I had firmly decided on watching a remake of Frankenstein on the Hallmark Channel instead when my civic responsibility kicked in and I flipped over to CNN. I'm glad I did. Gwen Ifill of PBS was an excellent moderator who asked some excellent -- and I imagine somewhat uncomfortable -- questions of both candidates. The candidates were really punchy, and I must admit that Cheney comes off a heck of a lot better than his boss. I just don't buy his rhetoric.
As with spinoffs of a popular TV shows, I didn't have high hopes for the debate last night. But I turned out to be wrong. If the first Presidential debate was The Mary Tyler Moore Show, then the vice-Presidential debate was more of a Rhoda than a Phyllis.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Take It When You Can
You have to appreciate the everyday blessings in life.
It's true. It is the little things that make life worth living...
- Lamont related to me how a teacher at school told her today, "You guys have done an excellent job with your kids. They're good kids." We really needed to hear that today. So often we feel sad about the things that are beyond our means to provide for them. It was nice to have someone notice their character rather than the labels on their clothes.
- Work was deserted today, so I ended up having lunch by myself. I hit the drive-thru at Wendy's and cruised around for an hour. As I was driving up a winding country road I was suddenly struck by just how achingly beautiful it all was: the changing leaves, the big fluffy clouds, the hills, the sunshine, everything.
- The finger-pointing squad is away on vacation, so I showed up for work in a nice warm sweater, comfy jeans and a pair of sneakers just because I could.
It's true. It is the little things that make life worth living...
Monday, October 04, 2004
Review: The Passion of the Christ
It's amazing the amount of controversy that still surrrounds Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ even in its DVD release. I thought I would convey some of my impressions of the work. My analysis of the film comes from a rather unique dual perspective -- I’ve made a career working in various communications media, and have also served in churches and nonprofit ministries as a volunteer and employee.
It doesn't quite sound right to say that I enjoyed the film -- quite the contrary, sometimes I had to avert my eyes from the onscreen action. So maybe it would be more accurate to say that I regard the film as an outstanding achievement. It's obvious from the first shot to the last that director Mel Gibson was captivated mind and soul by the story.
There are many opinions regarding the long-term effects of the film on American culture. Some say that it will lead to violence and discrimination against Jews, and if they prove to be right, it will be regrettable that this motion picture was ever conceived. Others of a more evangelical religious nature seem convinced that the film will spark a religious revival in America. I find it hard to share their optimism when the last dozen religious fads, all their promises of a great awakening unfulfilled, lay in a landfill somewhere buried under WWJD bracelets. I can’t help but think that if religious leaders in America stopped cheerleading a movie and actually showed evidence of being impacted by the words and deeds of the Person it was based on, both the church and the world would be a much better place.
"It is as it was" is an oft-repeated quote attributed to the Pope regarding the film. I disagree with that statement -- while the film is reverent with its subject matter, it is still a dramatic reinterpretation of the events of the Gospels, with additional scenes written in to flesh out the story. I didn’t discern an anti–Semitic slant in the narrative; indeed, the Romans are portrayed as “the heavies” of the piece, maybe even played in a little too exaggerated fashion to be taken seriously. I was more than a little surprised to see the character of Satan portrayed by a woman. What statement was Gibson trying to make by that unique approach to casting? Nobody I've talked to about the film seemed to notice or care. I wonder if people's reactions would have been different if the character of God would have appeared in the film played by a woman? It’s worth thinking about.
I first heard about this film last year on Harry Knowles' movie spy website, Ain't it Cool News. I have to admit that when I first heard that there was a Jesus movie being shot in Aramaic, my first thought was "this movie is going to sink without a trace." Foreign language films do bad enough in the USA, but movies that utilize uncommon languages, like Incubus (Esperanto) and Deafula (sign language), quickly end up gathering dust in a film vault somewhere. I was certainly wrong on that count. The Aramaic actually helped me suspend my disbelief in a way that a group of classically trained actors with British accents never could. (There are subtitles for key points of dialogue.)
A common mistake that many Biblical epics make is that they try to cover too much ground in one film. Remember The Bible (1966), which tried to condense most of the book of Genesis into one movie? Gibson showed a lot of wisdom in selecting a relatively short period of time for his narrative: the betrayal, trial, and crucifixion of the Christ. (Random flashbacks flesh out the characters, and the resurrection is briefly glimpsed at the end.) I grew up hearing this story all my life, so it was easy for me to put the story in its wider context; I do wonder how much sense the film makes to people that haven't had as much exposure to the Bible?
I have read a few articles in which reviewers, obviously moved by the suffering, question who the characters are and what motivates them. A few suggest that perhaps the story should have included more of the events leading up to Holy Week. But that wasn't the story that Gibson wanted to tell. Many of Jesus' teachings can be found in other religions and moral codes. Even the concept of blood sacrifice as a way to appease the gods goes back into prehistory and many varied cultures. But the important difference in the Gospel is its focus on Jesus as the perfect sacrifice of all time for an imperfect mankind. And that's a story worth telling.
It doesn't quite sound right to say that I enjoyed the film -- quite the contrary, sometimes I had to avert my eyes from the onscreen action. So maybe it would be more accurate to say that I regard the film as an outstanding achievement. It's obvious from the first shot to the last that director Mel Gibson was captivated mind and soul by the story.
There are many opinions regarding the long-term effects of the film on American culture. Some say that it will lead to violence and discrimination against Jews, and if they prove to be right, it will be regrettable that this motion picture was ever conceived. Others of a more evangelical religious nature seem convinced that the film will spark a religious revival in America. I find it hard to share their optimism when the last dozen religious fads, all their promises of a great awakening unfulfilled, lay in a landfill somewhere buried under WWJD bracelets. I can’t help but think that if religious leaders in America stopped cheerleading a movie and actually showed evidence of being impacted by the words and deeds of the Person it was based on, both the church and the world would be a much better place.
"It is as it was" is an oft-repeated quote attributed to the Pope regarding the film. I disagree with that statement -- while the film is reverent with its subject matter, it is still a dramatic reinterpretation of the events of the Gospels, with additional scenes written in to flesh out the story. I didn’t discern an anti–Semitic slant in the narrative; indeed, the Romans are portrayed as “the heavies” of the piece, maybe even played in a little too exaggerated fashion to be taken seriously. I was more than a little surprised to see the character of Satan portrayed by a woman. What statement was Gibson trying to make by that unique approach to casting? Nobody I've talked to about the film seemed to notice or care. I wonder if people's reactions would have been different if the character of God would have appeared in the film played by a woman? It’s worth thinking about.
I first heard about this film last year on Harry Knowles' movie spy website, Ain't it Cool News. I have to admit that when I first heard that there was a Jesus movie being shot in Aramaic, my first thought was "this movie is going to sink without a trace." Foreign language films do bad enough in the USA, but movies that utilize uncommon languages, like Incubus (Esperanto) and Deafula (sign language), quickly end up gathering dust in a film vault somewhere. I was certainly wrong on that count. The Aramaic actually helped me suspend my disbelief in a way that a group of classically trained actors with British accents never could. (There are subtitles for key points of dialogue.)
A common mistake that many Biblical epics make is that they try to cover too much ground in one film. Remember The Bible (1966), which tried to condense most of the book of Genesis into one movie? Gibson showed a lot of wisdom in selecting a relatively short period of time for his narrative: the betrayal, trial, and crucifixion of the Christ. (Random flashbacks flesh out the characters, and the resurrection is briefly glimpsed at the end.) I grew up hearing this story all my life, so it was easy for me to put the story in its wider context; I do wonder how much sense the film makes to people that haven't had as much exposure to the Bible?
I have read a few articles in which reviewers, obviously moved by the suffering, question who the characters are and what motivates them. A few suggest that perhaps the story should have included more of the events leading up to Holy Week. But that wasn't the story that Gibson wanted to tell. Many of Jesus' teachings can be found in other religions and moral codes. Even the concept of blood sacrifice as a way to appease the gods goes back into prehistory and many varied cultures. But the important difference in the Gospel is its focus on Jesus as the perfect sacrifice of all time for an imperfect mankind. And that's a story worth telling.
Sunday, October 03, 2004
Winter Blunderland
My calendar says that winter won't officially begin until December 21 at 7:42 am EST, which is just plain crazy-talk to anyone who lives in Jamestown, New York. We all know that winter really began last night, no matter what the astronomers and calendar makers say. Here is my conclusive proof:
People have to be insane to live here!
P.S. What kind of obsessive compulsive feels the need to time the beginning of winter down to the minute? Isn't the date enough? Are we supposed to stand around raking leaves up until 7:41 and then rush to pull our parkas out of the closet when the digits change to 7:42?
- My shepherd-collie decided it was too cold to sleep on the floor and jumped on my bed.
- I had to warm up the Toyota for five minutes before I went to church.
- It got down to 36 degrees last night and only warmed up into the fifties this afternoon. The forecast doesn't look any better for the next few days.
- I had to turn the space heater on when I took a shower this morning.
People have to be insane to live here!
P.S. What kind of obsessive compulsive feels the need to time the beginning of winter down to the minute? Isn't the date enough? Are we supposed to stand around raking leaves up until 7:41 and then rush to pull our parkas out of the closet when the digits change to 7:42?
Saturday, October 02, 2004
Superpowers
I was fascinated by a TV program called The Tomorrow People when I was a kid. Every afternoon at 4:30, I’d tune in to Nickelodeon—yes, they had Nickelodeon twenty-five years ago—and watch this really low budget science fiction show. What the program lacked in production values it more than made up for in the imagination department. Get this premise: some painfully average school kids wake up one day with superpowers. They can appear and disappear. They can read minds. They can lift objects just by thinking about it. So they do what any other kids in their situation would do—defend planet earth against alien invaders and robots!
It came on the air the same week I started junior high. It was a big transition for me because not only was I leaving elementary school, I was also leaving behind all of my friends because I had enrolled in a private school. It was a time in my life when I felt particularly vulnerable and maybe that’s why The Tomorrow People fascinated me so. Even though adults and classmates treated them with indifference, The Tomorrow People were still special. After all, they had superpowers.
Who hasn’t daydreamed at one time or another about having superpowers? After all, it would be really handy to be faster than a speeding bullet on a morning when I wake up late for work. Carrying in the groceries all by myself would be a snap if I were stronger than a locomotive. And leaping tall buildings in a single bound could be exploited for cleaning my gutters.
This kind of daydreaming isn’t confined to kids who spend too much time browsing the comic rack. Isn’t attending a Tony Robbins seminar or the buying into the latest diet fad just a grown-up version of wishing for “powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men”? We all crave a shortcut, a secret, that extra push to help us accomplish things that we feel are beyond our capabilities.
We can’t really blame the disciples a bit for wanting an extra boost in the faith department. Who wouldn’t after spending months traveling with Jesus? I can imagine the disciples lying awake at night pondering forgiving enemies seventy times seven or what it could possibly mean to take up a cross. How could they ever hope to live out such a high calling?
The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith!" (Luke 17:5)
It was a simple enough request to ask of a man who had made lame men walk and blind people see. What better solution to the question of their inadequacy than an instant increase of faith? But Jesus doesn’t respond the way they expect at all. Instead of wiggling his nose like the lady on Bewitched and zapping them with a quick fix, he says something to them that may at first have sounded to their sensitive ears as a stinging rebuke:
He replied, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it will obey you. (Luke 17:6)
What an odd thing to say. A mustard seed is so small it could be easily confused for a speck of dust; mulberry trees grow to be huge and have deep roots. And what possible benefit could be gained by telling a tree to relocate itself in the ocean? But Jesus isn’t talking about parlor tricks. He’s giving them an important lesson about the nature of faith.
What the disciples were asking for wasn’t faith at all. What they were really wanted a boost of power that would make them self-sufficient and capable. But faith is rooted an individual’s dependence on Christ. There’s no need to have his faith super-sized, because the person who is intimate with God already possess all he needs to accomplish great things.
This is good news for us modern-day disciples, too. We don’t have to wait until we become as “spiritual giants”—whatever that means—before we allow ourselves to be used for God’s purposes. At times we will scarcely believe that we have the courage, brains or heart to face the road in front of us, but just like in The Wizard of Oz, we’ll discover that we possessed everything we needed to finish the journey. We need to hold onto that kind of faith, because we’re needed to perform seemingly impossible tasks everyday.
A crisis hotline worker has to have faith to believe that the battered woman on the other end of the line will someday live a violence free life. A quarreling husband and wife have to have faith that the storm will eventually pass and they will once again embrace. A single mom has to have faith that her meager paycheck will stretch far enough to buy groceries and shoes for her young child. We all have our mulberry trees that make us feel inadequate and small, and that’s OK, because I’ve discovered that when we get to the end of ourselves, God begins. Viewed in that light, mustard seed faith isn’t a stinging rebuke—it’s an encouragement!
"Suppose one of you had a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Would he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, 'Come along now and sit down to eat'? Would he not rather say, 'Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink'? Would he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.' " (Luke 17: 7 – 9)
Christ made it clear to the disciples that faith in him would be enough to accomplish his work. Now he seems to be saying, get on with it! So often we buy into the idea that people with the greatest faith are these “superchristians” who spend all their time floating on a cloud. We’re wrong. The greatest faith is demonstrated by the confused and insecure who have just enough of a mustard seed to reach out in service to others.
Dorothy Day is one of my heroes. She founded the Catholic Worker Movement during the depression and spent the rest of her life working on behalf of the poor, the discriminated and the addicted. She was a very outspoken person and hated it when people referred to her as a saint. One time she snapped at someone and said:
"Don't say that. Don't make it too easy for yourself. Don't escape this way. I know why you are saying, 'she is a saint.' You say it to convince yourself that you are different from me, that I am different from you. I am not a saint. I am like you. You could easily do what I do. You don't need any more than you have; get kicking, please.”
Get kicking, please. Amen.
It came on the air the same week I started junior high. It was a big transition for me because not only was I leaving elementary school, I was also leaving behind all of my friends because I had enrolled in a private school. It was a time in my life when I felt particularly vulnerable and maybe that’s why The Tomorrow People fascinated me so. Even though adults and classmates treated them with indifference, The Tomorrow People were still special. After all, they had superpowers.
Who hasn’t daydreamed at one time or another about having superpowers? After all, it would be really handy to be faster than a speeding bullet on a morning when I wake up late for work. Carrying in the groceries all by myself would be a snap if I were stronger than a locomotive. And leaping tall buildings in a single bound could be exploited for cleaning my gutters.
This kind of daydreaming isn’t confined to kids who spend too much time browsing the comic rack. Isn’t attending a Tony Robbins seminar or the buying into the latest diet fad just a grown-up version of wishing for “powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men”? We all crave a shortcut, a secret, that extra push to help us accomplish things that we feel are beyond our capabilities.
We can’t really blame the disciples a bit for wanting an extra boost in the faith department. Who wouldn’t after spending months traveling with Jesus? I can imagine the disciples lying awake at night pondering forgiving enemies seventy times seven or what it could possibly mean to take up a cross. How could they ever hope to live out such a high calling?
The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith!" (Luke 17:5)
It was a simple enough request to ask of a man who had made lame men walk and blind people see. What better solution to the question of their inadequacy than an instant increase of faith? But Jesus doesn’t respond the way they expect at all. Instead of wiggling his nose like the lady on Bewitched and zapping them with a quick fix, he says something to them that may at first have sounded to their sensitive ears as a stinging rebuke:
He replied, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it will obey you. (Luke 17:6)
What an odd thing to say. A mustard seed is so small it could be easily confused for a speck of dust; mulberry trees grow to be huge and have deep roots. And what possible benefit could be gained by telling a tree to relocate itself in the ocean? But Jesus isn’t talking about parlor tricks. He’s giving them an important lesson about the nature of faith.
What the disciples were asking for wasn’t faith at all. What they were really wanted a boost of power that would make them self-sufficient and capable. But faith is rooted an individual’s dependence on Christ. There’s no need to have his faith super-sized, because the person who is intimate with God already possess all he needs to accomplish great things.
This is good news for us modern-day disciples, too. We don’t have to wait until we become as “spiritual giants”—whatever that means—before we allow ourselves to be used for God’s purposes. At times we will scarcely believe that we have the courage, brains or heart to face the road in front of us, but just like in The Wizard of Oz, we’ll discover that we possessed everything we needed to finish the journey. We need to hold onto that kind of faith, because we’re needed to perform seemingly impossible tasks everyday.
A crisis hotline worker has to have faith to believe that the battered woman on the other end of the line will someday live a violence free life. A quarreling husband and wife have to have faith that the storm will eventually pass and they will once again embrace. A single mom has to have faith that her meager paycheck will stretch far enough to buy groceries and shoes for her young child. We all have our mulberry trees that make us feel inadequate and small, and that’s OK, because I’ve discovered that when we get to the end of ourselves, God begins. Viewed in that light, mustard seed faith isn’t a stinging rebuke—it’s an encouragement!
"Suppose one of you had a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Would he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, 'Come along now and sit down to eat'? Would he not rather say, 'Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink'? Would he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.' " (Luke 17: 7 – 9)
Christ made it clear to the disciples that faith in him would be enough to accomplish his work. Now he seems to be saying, get on with it! So often we buy into the idea that people with the greatest faith are these “superchristians” who spend all their time floating on a cloud. We’re wrong. The greatest faith is demonstrated by the confused and insecure who have just enough of a mustard seed to reach out in service to others.
Dorothy Day is one of my heroes. She founded the Catholic Worker Movement during the depression and spent the rest of her life working on behalf of the poor, the discriminated and the addicted. She was a very outspoken person and hated it when people referred to her as a saint. One time she snapped at someone and said:
"Don't say that. Don't make it too easy for yourself. Don't escape this way. I know why you are saying, 'she is a saint.' You say it to convince yourself that you are different from me, that I am different from you. I am not a saint. I am like you. You could easily do what I do. You don't need any more than you have; get kicking, please.”
Get kicking, please. Amen.
Friday, October 01, 2004
Sick Day
Today's my day off and wouldn't ya know it, I came down with a sore throat and an earache. I got a prescription from my physician and spent the whole day on the futon. Since I was busy downing some red pills and some blue pills, I thought it was only appropriate to watch all three Matrix films in one go.
I imagined what it would be like if I was living in the Matrix and my hometown was really a nightmarish wasteland. Then I remembered that it already is.
I imagined what it would be like if I was living in the Matrix and my hometown was really a nightmarish wasteland. Then I remembered that it already is.
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