So many people think art is supposed to mean something. In visual art and written art such as prose and poetry, it is a typical thing to try to figure out what it means. I have come to accept that the art stands on its own as beauty and truth and that it doesn't have to mean anything. It certainly doesn't have to mean anything in particular.
Nearly two years ago I found a song on Spotify. I do not remember how I found the song. The song is "Shattered" by a group called Trading Yesterday. Spotify not only introduced me to this song, but to the entire album that includes this song. When I'm listening to music, I enjoy Googling the song and the band to learn more about both. In this case I only learned that the band had broken up years ago.
But I also learned that the writer and the singer was a man named David Hodges. I typed David Hodges into the Spotify search and it opened an entire universe of music. Although I have enjoyed hours of his music, I return to where I started with "Shattered" time and time again. Even after listening to this song perhaps hundreds of times, I still don't know what it means. All I know is that the words and the music speak to something deep within me. There is a mental and emotional healing aspect to the song for me. I start and end many days listening to this music.
Shattered begins with "Yesterday I died. Tomorrow's bleeding. Fall into your sunlight." The song had me at "fall into your sunlight." Whatever the "sunlight" is, it's a place I want to find. And to think all I have to do is "fall". When I fall I just step where there's nothing below me and gravity does the rest. Falling requires absolutely no effort on my part.
"and finding answers is forgetting all the questions we call home." Rainer Maria Rilke tells us to "Live the questions." Hodges tells us to "forget the questions." This is very difficult for me to do, but the song challenges me over and over again to do exactly that.
"And this day's ending. Is the proof of time killing, all the faith that I know. Knowing that faith is all I hold." If all I have to do is fall into the sunlight, then I also accept that the faith is not what I hold, but the faith holds me.
"There's the light. There's a sun. Taking all shattered ones. To the place I belong, and his love will conquer all."
This light I fall into and this faith that holds me takes me to the place I belong. Where is this place? And how do I know when I get there? For me the song is a reminder that I'm already there. The place of departure is actually a place of arrival, a still point in time that moves forward by itself. All I have to do is constantly fall forward. Inertia is just as powerful as gravity. After the initial push, inertia acts on its own.
"and his love will conquer all." Whose love will conquer all? God we might assume, but the song doesn't say. Maybe it's the love of this shattered one for himself. Another of my magnificent obsessions is Tori Amos. She sings in "Winter" "When you gonna love you as much as I do?" I have learned that if I don't love myself, then God Himself can't scale that wall of arrogant self-deception. Or at least He chooses not to scale that wall.
"As reason clouds my eyes, with splendor fading. Illusions of the sunlight." The birth of every day ends in darkness. Was the sunlight ever really there?
Years ago I was alone in the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. With no group to answer to, I strolled the halls at my leisure. There was a Renoir in particular that I stood before for quite some time. It was a painting I had seen photos of in high school art. But there I was trying to comprehend the very masterpiece that Renoir had painted. Its beauty was consuming. What did the painting mean? It meant that my entire life had arrived at a resting point, a point of total completion. In that moment I forgot all the questions. And I found home.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
New Life
"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law." Galatians 5:22
"In freedom from sin and freedom from law they were empowered by love to rejoice in the right, to bear all things, to be patient and kind. Out of the inner fountains of the spirit of Christ there would flow forth love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Not as lawgiver of a new Christian culture but as the mediator of a new principle of life—a life of peace with God—Christ did and does this mighty work on the creation of a new kind of humanity". Richard Niebuhr
As I drive around northwest Georgia, I drive by a lot of churches. I have noticed over the years that many of those churches, regardless of their denominational affiliation, have the words "New Life" in their name. The "New Life Fellowship" seems to be a favorite. I hope that is the case. I hope that the members of that church have experienced a new life in Jesus and have become a flock of happy pilgrims filled with the Spirit of Jesus Christ.
"In freedom from sin and freedom from law they were empowered by love to rejoice in the right, to bear all things, to be patient and kind. Out of the inner fountains of the spirit of Christ there would flow forth love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Not as lawgiver of a new Christian culture but as the mediator of a new principle of life—a life of peace with God—Christ did and does this mighty work on the creation of a new kind of humanity". Richard Niebuhr
As I drive around northwest Georgia, I drive by a lot of churches. I have noticed over the years that many of those churches, regardless of their denominational affiliation, have the words "New Life" in their name. The "New Life Fellowship" seems to be a favorite. I hope that is the case. I hope that the members of that church have experienced a new life in Jesus and have become a flock of happy pilgrims filled with the Spirit of Jesus Christ.
However, I know by experience that many Christian churches offer their members new rules, new expectations and new doctrine instead of new life.
The Apostle Paul in his letter to the church at Galatia detailed his struggles with those who substituted "new life" with "new rules and doctrine." The same spirit of Phariseeism permeated the early Christian culture just as the scribes and Pharisees were a constant thorn in the flesh to Jesus Himself. The dictionary definition of Phariseeism includes "a hypocritical observance of the letter of religious or moral law without regard for the spirit of the law."
What I think Paul was offering, which is stated again by Richard Niebuhr, is a community of no religion, a community of basic goodness. John Lennon sang "Imagine nothing to kill or die for or no religion too" not to say "Be an atheist; don't believe in anything" but to say to live in way that is not bound my definition and doctrine. Simply live together in peace.
I was the choral director of a local high school for several years. One semester we rehearsed "Imagine" and performed it in our spring concert. The song bothered more than a few of my students, but all but one accepted my explanation and sang it anyway. While we sang, she sat. They could deal with "no heaven", "no hell", "no countries", "no possessions", but they couldn't get past that "no religion" part. And I certainly understand. However, I explained, just like Paul explained to the first century church, that there are powerful and wonderful things that transcend any particular doctrine and religious boundaries. I explained that a non-Christian who exudes goodness and kindness is better than a professing Christian who embodies hate and exclusion. Paul must have exploded with joy as he wrote those nine God-given attributes of "new life", against which no religion of his day had laws.
Neibuhr suggests that if we will practice this new doctrine of peace there will result "the creation of a new kind a humanity." People may say that he's a dreamer, but he's not the only one. "New life" is not a new idea, nor is it only a Christian idea. In 1864 at Gettysburg, Abraham Lincoln said "That from these honored dead we take increased devotion ...that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom". There it is again "new birth", "new life".
In the marvelous movie Resurrection about a faith-healer who struggled with her gift and her own faith, at a very low point in her life she stopped on a lonely highway to fill up with gas. Posted in the window of the very old and very remote filling station were the words "God is love and vissa verssa." On a self-help tape series years ago I heard, "If you want to transform your life and your relationships, change 'do the right thing' to 'do the loving thing'. " Need to find new life in your own heart and your relationships? Practice love and new life will be close behind.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
The God of the Waffle House
There is a godlike quality for me of all Waffle Houses in that they are open 24 hours a day 365 days a year (366 on Leap Year). So just like God, they are always available. But this phenomenon is all the more pronounced in that there are no less than six Waffle Houses within 10 miles of my residence. Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night, I am aware of the fact that I could jump in my clothes, jump in my car, drive about two miles and eat breakfast.
But besides that, there is the mystery of the cooking process itself. The servers, or salespersons as they are called, flank the cook and shout out their orders from both directions. I understand that there is a trick to it. As they are yelling "Mark one waffle" and "Pull one bacon" and "Drop" this or that, the cook and the cook's assistant pull a plate down and put various jellies around the rim of the plate. These jellies and their placement then tell the cook what to cook and how to cook it. But think about it, some people, like me, want their eggs scrambled "light", others well done. Some want their eggs fried over easy and every other way possible. Then there's the hash browns and whether they are smothered or covered or scattered or chunked. That steak with the eggs needs to be cooked to order. Isn't it about time to take up that bacon and turn that egg over? He wants his grits in a bowl but she wants hers on the plate. He wants country ham but she wants city ham. Even with the "trick" isn't this a bit like while the air traffic controller is watching the bleeps on the screen, two or three people are yelling "And there's also a couple of F-16s that need to land in between that 747 and 737." "And you might want to divert that 737 to another runway since that Piper Cub stalled a few minutes ago on B32". "And the wind just changed from south/southwest to south/northeast so you might want to tell that Delta to bank a little to the left." I'm just saying that I have all the respect in the world for Waffle House cooks.
There are at least eight patron saints of food and cooking. St. Lawrence, St. Martha, St. Elizabeth, St. Honore, St. Anthony, St. Hildegard, St. Nicholas and St. Drogo all are credited with being able to help us with the preparation and consumption of our food and drink. If we only ask. Of all of these venerable saints, I have decided that St. Anthony is the patron saint of the Waffle House. For several different reasons, St. Anthony's legacy is associated with pigs. And what would the Waffle House be without its pigs?
I was at the Waffle House this morning for an hour and a half because I literally had nothing better to do. I chose to invest that time watching the process. I sat at the counter where I had a birds-eye view of the whole situation. I didn't just watch the cook, I watched everybody. When they're not taking orders or delivering food, they're filling coffee cups and cleaning up spills. They're taking orders over the phone and barking them to the cook. They're under the counter washing dishes when they're not cleaning tables. If they have nothing else to do, they're mopping the floor stopping to take somebody's payment. While watching the cook, even knowing the "trick", I was utterly amazed. It was then that I decided that Divine intervention was afoot. There is no way that a mere mortal can keep all those plates in the air, so to speak, without help from above. And I thought, "If Pastafarians can have the Flying Spaghetti Monster then why can't Waffle House have its own god, too?" I wouldn't think it would be the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and the SEC since He's busy enough as it is. That's when I settled on St. Anthony. If he had a thing for pigs then he must have a warm place in his heart for the Waffle House.
Since I'm watching my carbs, day or night at any Waffle House I order scrambled eggs with a side of bacon. That's all I want. When I order the eggs and bacon and say "that's all", the waitress inevitably starts down the list of other choices. "Do you want hash browns?" "No thank you." "Do you want grits" "No thank you". "Do you want tomatoes?" "No thank you, I just want eggs and bacon." So this morning I got way ahead and said, "I just want three scrambled eggs light and a side of bacon. I don't want any hashbrowns, grits, tomatoes or anything else, just eggs and bacon." After a slight pause she asked, "Do you want some toast?"
But besides that, there is the mystery of the cooking process itself. The servers, or salespersons as they are called, flank the cook and shout out their orders from both directions. I understand that there is a trick to it. As they are yelling "Mark one waffle" and "Pull one bacon" and "Drop" this or that, the cook and the cook's assistant pull a plate down and put various jellies around the rim of the plate. These jellies and their placement then tell the cook what to cook and how to cook it. But think about it, some people, like me, want their eggs scrambled "light", others well done. Some want their eggs fried over easy and every other way possible. Then there's the hash browns and whether they are smothered or covered or scattered or chunked. That steak with the eggs needs to be cooked to order. Isn't it about time to take up that bacon and turn that egg over? He wants his grits in a bowl but she wants hers on the plate. He wants country ham but she wants city ham. Even with the "trick" isn't this a bit like while the air traffic controller is watching the bleeps on the screen, two or three people are yelling "And there's also a couple of F-16s that need to land in between that 747 and 737." "And you might want to divert that 737 to another runway since that Piper Cub stalled a few minutes ago on B32". "And the wind just changed from south/southwest to south/northeast so you might want to tell that Delta to bank a little to the left." I'm just saying that I have all the respect in the world for Waffle House cooks.
There are at least eight patron saints of food and cooking. St. Lawrence, St. Martha, St. Elizabeth, St. Honore, St. Anthony, St. Hildegard, St. Nicholas and St. Drogo all are credited with being able to help us with the preparation and consumption of our food and drink. If we only ask. Of all of these venerable saints, I have decided that St. Anthony is the patron saint of the Waffle House. For several different reasons, St. Anthony's legacy is associated with pigs. And what would the Waffle House be without its pigs?
I was at the Waffle House this morning for an hour and a half because I literally had nothing better to do. I chose to invest that time watching the process. I sat at the counter where I had a birds-eye view of the whole situation. I didn't just watch the cook, I watched everybody. When they're not taking orders or delivering food, they're filling coffee cups and cleaning up spills. They're taking orders over the phone and barking them to the cook. They're under the counter washing dishes when they're not cleaning tables. If they have nothing else to do, they're mopping the floor stopping to take somebody's payment. While watching the cook, even knowing the "trick", I was utterly amazed. It was then that I decided that Divine intervention was afoot. There is no way that a mere mortal can keep all those plates in the air, so to speak, without help from above. And I thought, "If Pastafarians can have the Flying Spaghetti Monster then why can't Waffle House have its own god, too?" I wouldn't think it would be the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and the SEC since He's busy enough as it is. That's when I settled on St. Anthony. If he had a thing for pigs then he must have a warm place in his heart for the Waffle House.
Since I'm watching my carbs, day or night at any Waffle House I order scrambled eggs with a side of bacon. That's all I want. When I order the eggs and bacon and say "that's all", the waitress inevitably starts down the list of other choices. "Do you want hash browns?" "No thank you." "Do you want grits" "No thank you". "Do you want tomatoes?" "No thank you, I just want eggs and bacon." So this morning I got way ahead and said, "I just want three scrambled eggs light and a side of bacon. I don't want any hashbrowns, grits, tomatoes or anything else, just eggs and bacon." After a slight pause she asked, "Do you want some toast?"
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
It Ain't Necessarily So
What I am proposing is not whether or not these stories really happened. All I am saying is that when it comes to the Bible, most Christians suspend all belief. No matter how bizarre or far-fetched the story, the general opinion is that it really happened. Since it's a Bible story, it's not all that strange or outlandish. The reader's assumption seems to be that it's no big deal because God can do anything.
I don't ever argue the Bible with anyone. It's a losing proposition. The person I'm arguing with leaves the conversation more convinced than ever of his own opinion and I leave wishing I'd never been born. It just doesn't accomplish anything good to lock horns over beliefs about the Bible. But...
A few months ago I did just that. I argued about the validity of a particular story in the Bible. It didn't end well. Before my friend stood up from the restaurant table and just angrily walked out, I had asked him, "So if the story is within the leather covers, you believe that it happened just like that?" And he said "Yes, I do." It went downhill from there.
"In the beginning was only Tepeu and The Feathered Serpent. These two sat together and thought, and whatever they thought came into being. They thought Earth and there it was. They thought mountains, trees, sky and animals and each came into being. And then they thought man out of clay." You will immediately recognize some similarities between this American Indian myth of creation and the story from the Book of Genesis. And yet for most people, they would say that this account is very strange and totally unbelievable. In thousands of other American Indian legends, animals have human and even god-like characteristics. And we say "That's just too strange. That can't be the way that it happened. These legends are just fairy tales."
Yet when we read equally bizarre stories in the Bible, we have no problem believing that they are true.
In 2 Kings chapter 2 is the story of a group of children who mocked the prophet Elisha. After making fun of the fact that he was bald-headed, two female bears came out of the woods and mauled 42 of them to death. No one involved seemed to think it was out of the ordinary for God to do this and most modern readers apparently think the same thing. The moral of the story seems to be 'Don't make fun of preachers or God will mutilate a bunch of children !" Maybe it happened just like that, but shouldn't we agree that the punishment was rather severe for the crime? And does God really kill children?
In Ezekiel chapter 4 is one of the most bizarre stories in scripture. To make a point about Israel's unfaithfulness ( a very common theme in the Old Testament), God told Ezekiel to lie on his left side for 390 days. That's a month over a year ! And then to lie on his right side for 40 days. I don't know about you, but lying on my side for more than a couple of hours would get to be quite painful. But the story gets worse. God told Ezekiel to only eat a certain bread and that he was to bake that bread over human dung. When he protested, God told him that he could use cow's dung instead. Much better.
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is one that reads like Aesop's Fables. In Numbers 22 Balaam's donkey saw the angel in their path, but Balaam did not. Three different times the donkey stops and three different times Balaam beats his donkey. So at this point we have a donkey that recognizes angels. That's pretty strange. But also at this point the donkey speaks to Balaam, "What have I done to you to make you beat me?" And then as if this is nothing out of the ordinary, Balaam answers his donkey "Because you have made a fool out of me. If I had a sword I would kill you!". So now we have a man and a donkey carrying on a conversation as if it's all to be expected in this situation. That Feathered Serpent in the creation myth is looking more and more possible, don't you think?
In 2 Kings 6 a prophet had borrowed an ax to cut trees to build a meeting place. The ax head flew off into the river. Elisha simply threw a stick in the water and the ax head floated to the top. None of the prophets seemed to think this was odd. And neither do the readers of the Bible. This piece of iron just floated on the water like you would expect.
There are a multitude of stories to choose from, but I'll rest my case with just one more. In Genesis chapter 6, just before the Great Flood, we read the story of the Nephilim. The story says that angelic beings were sexually attracted to human females. They came to earth and mated with these women and their offspring became a race of giants--the Nephilim. I'm not making this up. Go to Genesis chapter 6 and read the story for yourself. Angels +women=giants.
Stone Coat is the mythological rock giant of the Iroquois. He was twice as tall as humans and his body was covered in rock hard scales that repelled weapons. Stone Coat also ate people. Some say that Stone Coat was human but was cursed and became a cannibal monster. I'm not saying that Stone Coat really existed, I'm just saying that this story is just as plausible as any of the above. I'm also saying that if this story was bound by the same leather as the above stories, most Christians wouldn't think it was all that bizarre.
That friend who walked out on me? We're still good friends. But we don't argue about the Bible. I will conclude by saying that no matter what happened or didn't happen in the stories I have referenced, we can all agree that "God works in mysterious ways His wonders to perform." That's not in the Bible.
I don't ever argue the Bible with anyone. It's a losing proposition. The person I'm arguing with leaves the conversation more convinced than ever of his own opinion and I leave wishing I'd never been born. It just doesn't accomplish anything good to lock horns over beliefs about the Bible. But...
A few months ago I did just that. I argued about the validity of a particular story in the Bible. It didn't end well. Before my friend stood up from the restaurant table and just angrily walked out, I had asked him, "So if the story is within the leather covers, you believe that it happened just like that?" And he said "Yes, I do." It went downhill from there.
"In the beginning was only Tepeu and The Feathered Serpent. These two sat together and thought, and whatever they thought came into being. They thought Earth and there it was. They thought mountains, trees, sky and animals and each came into being. And then they thought man out of clay." You will immediately recognize some similarities between this American Indian myth of creation and the story from the Book of Genesis. And yet for most people, they would say that this account is very strange and totally unbelievable. In thousands of other American Indian legends, animals have human and even god-like characteristics. And we say "That's just too strange. That can't be the way that it happened. These legends are just fairy tales."
Yet when we read equally bizarre stories in the Bible, we have no problem believing that they are true.
In 2 Kings chapter 2 is the story of a group of children who mocked the prophet Elisha. After making fun of the fact that he was bald-headed, two female bears came out of the woods and mauled 42 of them to death. No one involved seemed to think it was out of the ordinary for God to do this and most modern readers apparently think the same thing. The moral of the story seems to be 'Don't make fun of preachers or God will mutilate a bunch of children !" Maybe it happened just like that, but shouldn't we agree that the punishment was rather severe for the crime? And does God really kill children?
In Ezekiel chapter 4 is one of the most bizarre stories in scripture. To make a point about Israel's unfaithfulness ( a very common theme in the Old Testament), God told Ezekiel to lie on his left side for 390 days. That's a month over a year ! And then to lie on his right side for 40 days. I don't know about you, but lying on my side for more than a couple of hours would get to be quite painful. But the story gets worse. God told Ezekiel to only eat a certain bread and that he was to bake that bread over human dung. When he protested, God told him that he could use cow's dung instead. Much better.
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is one that reads like Aesop's Fables. In Numbers 22 Balaam's donkey saw the angel in their path, but Balaam did not. Three different times the donkey stops and three different times Balaam beats his donkey. So at this point we have a donkey that recognizes angels. That's pretty strange. But also at this point the donkey speaks to Balaam, "What have I done to you to make you beat me?" And then as if this is nothing out of the ordinary, Balaam answers his donkey "Because you have made a fool out of me. If I had a sword I would kill you!". So now we have a man and a donkey carrying on a conversation as if it's all to be expected in this situation. That Feathered Serpent in the creation myth is looking more and more possible, don't you think?
In 2 Kings 6 a prophet had borrowed an ax to cut trees to build a meeting place. The ax head flew off into the river. Elisha simply threw a stick in the water and the ax head floated to the top. None of the prophets seemed to think this was odd. And neither do the readers of the Bible. This piece of iron just floated on the water like you would expect.
There are a multitude of stories to choose from, but I'll rest my case with just one more. In Genesis chapter 6, just before the Great Flood, we read the story of the Nephilim. The story says that angelic beings were sexually attracted to human females. They came to earth and mated with these women and their offspring became a race of giants--the Nephilim. I'm not making this up. Go to Genesis chapter 6 and read the story for yourself. Angels +women=giants.
Stone Coat is the mythological rock giant of the Iroquois. He was twice as tall as humans and his body was covered in rock hard scales that repelled weapons. Stone Coat also ate people. Some say that Stone Coat was human but was cursed and became a cannibal monster. I'm not saying that Stone Coat really existed, I'm just saying that this story is just as plausible as any of the above. I'm also saying that if this story was bound by the same leather as the above stories, most Christians wouldn't think it was all that bizarre.
That friend who walked out on me? We're still good friends. But we don't argue about the Bible. I will conclude by saying that no matter what happened or didn't happen in the stories I have referenced, we can all agree that "God works in mysterious ways His wonders to perform." That's not in the Bible.
Monday, February 22, 2016
Minimum Requirements for Righteousness--The 6-Point Record System
"New realities in the world, in my family, in my employment, in my age and health should mean that I am constantly updating my faith." from Stuck in the 6-Point Record System by Marion Aldridge in Christian Ethics Today, 11-1-2012
I was raised in a Christian home in Enterprise, Alabama, I had one mother and one father, one brother and one sister, one dog and one cat. All was right with the world and I thought the whole world was just like that. But in so many ways I grew up at the Hillcrest Baptist Church. I spent nearly as much time there as I did in my own home. Not really, but it seemed like it. From a few weeks after my birth, every Sunday morning we were at Sunday School and church. Every Sunday night we were at Training Union and church Every Wednesday we were there for Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting. We were there twice a year for the two-week revivals (every single night including Friday and Saturday night in between). We were there for the fellowships and socials. We were there for the business meetings. We were there for the annual "watch-night service." If the doors of the church were open, and they were open quite often, we were there. The Hillcrest Baptist Church was literally my second home. And since my parents grew up at the First Baptist Church, we spent a lot of time there as well.
One of my friends who shared Hillcrest with me thinks I'm too hard on Southern Baptists in general and the Hillcrest Baptist Church in particular. Whereas I agree that I could be a bit kinder and gentler on the faith of my fathers, the good, the bad and the ugly certainly apply to my experience there.
My friend makes a good point. There were many people in that church who cared for me. I had Sunday School teachers and Training Union teachers who took interest in me and encouraged me. Every summer we had Vacation Bible School. I not only remember some of the lessons on those flannel boards, but for years I even kept some of the arts and crafts that I made. I still like drinking red Kool-Aid from time to time. I had a lot of friends in church and there were some really cute girls. It certainly had its moments.
Along with learning valuable lessons from Bible stories and significant adults, the church also taught me some things that just aren't true. My church, like most Baptist churches, subscribed to the "6- Point Record System." Printed on the offering envelopes were six points to check off each week:1. Present 2. Bible brought 3. Bible read daily 4. Lesson studied 5. Offering brought 6. Staying for preaching. The assumption was that if you were 100% on the system, then you were in good standing with the church and with God. Although I was usually 100%, there was an implied sliding scale of righteousness with non-compliance. An irony pointed out by the author I quoted is that none of these six points is in the Bible or mentioned by Jesus. No not one. Nonetheless, the assumption was if you continue to measure up to the six points, you'll do just fine. My church was wrong about that.
My church taught me that Southern Baptists are spiritually superior to all other Christian faiths. No one ever said that Southern Baptists were the only people going to heaven, but it was more than subtle that Baptists, more than most, are in favor with the Almighty. When it comes to Christianity, Southern Baptists just do things right. If God wanted to do something in the world, then He would ask a Southern Baptist first. If none was available, he might ask a United Methodist(the biggest thing they do wrong is the way they baptize). In a pinch he would ask a Presbyterian or a Lutheran. He would seldom ask a Pentecostal (they speak in unknown tongues) or an Episcopalian (they drink). He would never ask a Mormon (they're a cult) or Church of Christ (they believe baptism is essential for salvation and not like Baptists where baptism is only essential for membership) . God uses no Catholics (they have statues of Mary and worship a Pope. And their headquarters are in Rome instead of Nashville). My church was wrong about all that.
My church taught me that white people are superior to black people. No one was overtly racist, well not until I brought a black friend with me to church, but no one went out of his way to be inclusive either. My church was wrong about that.
My church didn't teach me anything about human sexuality. And God forbid they mention homosexuality. There was no need to. There were no gays in the church or even in the town. It was just not anything anyone was concerned about. My church was wrong about that.
My church taught me that it was a sin to drink alcohol, but it was ok to smoke cigarettes. My church was wrong about that.
My church taught me that it was possible for me to have a real and personal relationship with Jesus Christ. The Hillcrest Baptist Church was very right about that. I am forever grateful that my family and my church introduced me to Jesus. Without Jesus my whole life, WWDD? ( What would David do?). But they also taught me that that was all there was to it. 'You are now a Christian so go and win other people to Christ. Don't sin and just be a good Christian". My church was wrong about that.
As the author said, because of "new realities" that occur every day, we need to "update our faith" every day. If you want to be in good standing with God, I suggest you ignore the 6-point system of my church and adopt the 2-point system of Jesus: 1. Love God 2. Love one another. When it comes to minimum requirements for righteousness, the words of Jesus are a always a good place to start.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
It's a Small World After All
"Christian worldview (also called a Biblical Worldview) refers to the framework of ideas and beliefs through which a Christian individual, group or culture interprets the world and interacts with it...There are varieties of particulars, but certain thematic elements are common in the Christian worldview." Wikipedia
In a Chamber of Commerce breakfast recently, an administrator of a local Christian university spoke of the Biblical worldview of the students in the college. She stated that most enter the college without such a worldview, but nearly all leave with a Biblical worldview.
I was thinking and I still am thinking, "Where do you draw the line between education and indoctrination? What is the distinction between mind-expanding and brain washing?" I'm also thinking since by definition "there are a variety of particulars" , who gets to decide which worldview is the correct "Christian worldview"? If a student attended another Christian college with the same goal in mind, isn't it reasonable to assume that s/he will graduate with a different worldview?
This speaker said that all students must write an essay at the beginning of their degree program explaining their worldview. Before they graduate, they then must write another essay. She said that in every case their worldview has shifted dramatically to a Biblical worldview (their Biblical worldview).
I graduated from a Southern Baptist university and a Southern Baptist seminary. I may be biased, but I feel that in both cases I received an excellent Christian education that was not Biblical indoctrination This was back in the 70s when the SBC was, as a convention, mostly moderate Baptists. At least the agencies, institutions and many churches were moderate in belief and disposition. The professors of the Old and New Testaments I sat under certainly dramatically affected my worldview, but I left both institutions with a much larger world of the Bible and not a much more narrow view.
My college, Samford University, though still loosely associated with Southern Baptists, has managed to distance itself from the radical religious right who took over the SBC in the late 70s and early 80s. This takeover is not a matter of opinion, it's a matter of recent Southern Baptist history.
My seminary, the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, went the other direction. The board of directors, the trustees and the faculty embraced the worldview of the literal Bible. Instead of being one of the most respected schools of seminary education in the world, the SBTS is now little more than a fundamentalist Bible college. The world-renowned music school where I graduated doesn't even exist. At the time I was so proud of that graduate degree from that prestigious religious institution. Now I seldom refer to the fact that I'm a graduate for fear that someone thinks I adhere to the present doctrine. Cujo may have looked the same, but he was radically different after being bitten by a rabid bat.
The speaker that morning said something else. She said to this group of business men and women, "I'm very thankful that I'm a believer. And I'm quite confident that all of you are believers." She said "believer" as if there's only one thing to believe and that you believe it or you don't. As a recovering Southern Baptist I know what she meant. "Believe" means that you have "accepted Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior." In that sense, it's take it or leave it. That belief may be a popular Christian worldview, but is it a Biblical worldview? Jews believe the Bible too, but they don't accept that particular Biblical worldview. So are sixteen million people, who the Bible call "God's chosen people", just wrong?
Yesterday I drove by the exit to the Creation Museum in Petersburg, Kentucky. This museum's Biblical worldview includes that the world was created in six twenty-four hour days and that the universe is about 6,000 years old. This theology is known as Young Earth Creationism. I would assume that they hope to substantially influence my Biblical worldview in a two hour visit. Just last week scientists confirmed the existence of gravitational waves in the universe. This is a cosmic phenomenon that Albert Einstein predicted 100 years ago. They claim that these sounds originated in the collision of two black holes over a billion years ago. So which worldview is correct? We all have to read, study and pray to decide for ourselves. Gravitation waves? Take it or leave it. And for the record if you're interested, membership to the Flat Earth Society is still free.
In a Chamber of Commerce breakfast recently, an administrator of a local Christian university spoke of the Biblical worldview of the students in the college. She stated that most enter the college without such a worldview, but nearly all leave with a Biblical worldview.
I was thinking and I still am thinking, "Where do you draw the line between education and indoctrination? What is the distinction between mind-expanding and brain washing?" I'm also thinking since by definition "there are a variety of particulars" , who gets to decide which worldview is the correct "Christian worldview"? If a student attended another Christian college with the same goal in mind, isn't it reasonable to assume that s/he will graduate with a different worldview?
This speaker said that all students must write an essay at the beginning of their degree program explaining their worldview. Before they graduate, they then must write another essay. She said that in every case their worldview has shifted dramatically to a Biblical worldview (their Biblical worldview).
I graduated from a Southern Baptist university and a Southern Baptist seminary. I may be biased, but I feel that in both cases I received an excellent Christian education that was not Biblical indoctrination This was back in the 70s when the SBC was, as a convention, mostly moderate Baptists. At least the agencies, institutions and many churches were moderate in belief and disposition. The professors of the Old and New Testaments I sat under certainly dramatically affected my worldview, but I left both institutions with a much larger world of the Bible and not a much more narrow view.
My college, Samford University, though still loosely associated with Southern Baptists, has managed to distance itself from the radical religious right who took over the SBC in the late 70s and early 80s. This takeover is not a matter of opinion, it's a matter of recent Southern Baptist history.
My seminary, the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, went the other direction. The board of directors, the trustees and the faculty embraced the worldview of the literal Bible. Instead of being one of the most respected schools of seminary education in the world, the SBTS is now little more than a fundamentalist Bible college. The world-renowned music school where I graduated doesn't even exist. At the time I was so proud of that graduate degree from that prestigious religious institution. Now I seldom refer to the fact that I'm a graduate for fear that someone thinks I adhere to the present doctrine. Cujo may have looked the same, but he was radically different after being bitten by a rabid bat.
The speaker that morning said something else. She said to this group of business men and women, "I'm very thankful that I'm a believer. And I'm quite confident that all of you are believers." She said "believer" as if there's only one thing to believe and that you believe it or you don't. As a recovering Southern Baptist I know what she meant. "Believe" means that you have "accepted Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior." In that sense, it's take it or leave it. That belief may be a popular Christian worldview, but is it a Biblical worldview? Jews believe the Bible too, but they don't accept that particular Biblical worldview. So are sixteen million people, who the Bible call "God's chosen people", just wrong?
Yesterday I drove by the exit to the Creation Museum in Petersburg, Kentucky. This museum's Biblical worldview includes that the world was created in six twenty-four hour days and that the universe is about 6,000 years old. This theology is known as Young Earth Creationism. I would assume that they hope to substantially influence my Biblical worldview in a two hour visit. Just last week scientists confirmed the existence of gravitational waves in the universe. This is a cosmic phenomenon that Albert Einstein predicted 100 years ago. They claim that these sounds originated in the collision of two black holes over a billion years ago. So which worldview is correct? We all have to read, study and pray to decide for ourselves. Gravitation waves? Take it or leave it. And for the record if you're interested, membership to the Flat Earth Society is still free.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
Trouble-shooting my blog
This is not a blog. It is a test. I'm having issues. Had it been a real blog post it would have had something to do with God, the Bible, religion, human nature, Einstein's theories or surviving car accidents. Please stay tuned for more actual blog posts.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
A Lenten Prayer-- Avoiding Accidents
First of all, it is not possible to "avoid an accident." An accident by nature cannot be avoided. If it could be avoided, then it wouldn't be an accident. Accidents can be minimized, but if you keep driving, keep riding, and keep walking, eventually an accident will happen. And when it happens there is no way that it could have been avoided. It will be an accident.
Although I am a careful driver, I have been involved in quite a few car accidents. A few of them were my fault. Most of them were not. Thankfully, there has been much more damage to vehicles than to human beings, but they are very personally invasive and time-consuming. They involve tow trucks, policemen, insurance companies and body shops, In some cases the wreck involved buying another car. In one case the mishap involved a hospital. In at least two of them I could have been killed. In one of those two wrecks no one was hurt. In the other collision I was the only one injured. In that last one I was traveling on an interstate on a clear morning. I was driving in the right lane on a straight highway at the speed limit. No one was in front of me or beside me when the accident occurred. I was suddenly struck from the rear by a car going fast enough to total my car. From my standpoint, it couldn't have been avoided. Once I was hit by a car as a pedestrian. If anything had been totaled in that accident, it would have been me. I have learned from all of the accidents and I feel that I minimize automobile accidents with hard earned defensive driving skills.
But of all the accidents that actually happened, it's one of them that didn't happen that I remember the most vividly. About four years ago my wife and I were traveling on I-75 north to Indiana. It was around 10pm and we were about thirty miles south of Cincinnati, Ohio. We were in the left lane passing an 18-wheeler. The truck was to our right and there was a concrete barrier to our left. As we were nearly even with the cab of the truck, the truck started changing lanes on to us. I started braking and laid on the horn. Since the truck was moving ahead and we were gradually slowing, the illusion was that we were going backwards in slow-motion. The inverted V of that space continued to close as we continued to slide backwards in that space. There could not have been more than a foot of clearance on either side. Each micro second I kept expecting to hear the scraping of our car against the concrete on one side and feeling the crush of the truck on the other. But neither ever happened. In what seemed like an eternity, but was only a matter of seconds, the truck was completely in the left lane and we were behind it--in one piece. It was over. He never knew what didn't hit him. Heart pumping. Adrenaline surging. Hands shaking. But we were safe. So did we avoid an accident? No, we didn't have an accident. If we had had an accident, it couldn't have been avoided.
Accidents can't be avoided, but they can be minimized. You can never drink and drive. You can never text and drive. You can never read a text and drive. You can never check Facebook or email and drive. You can use a hands-free telephone. Dialing and driving is texting and driving. You can drive the speed limit. You can keep a reasonable distance between yourself and the car ahead of you. If the car ahead of you slams on brakes, you brake too, but pay attention to the car behind you (now that space you left in front of you matters a great deal). You can always use your turn signal and check your blind spots. When you're changing lanes on a multi-lane interstate, make sure another car isn't claiming the same lane from the other direction. Don't text while you walk. Look both ways before you cross the street and then glance back at that first way. If you're riding your bicycle in traffic, expect lane changes and doors opening. Most accidents happen in your home, which makes sense because you spend the most time there--Don't go up and down wooden steps in your socks. If you do, watch every step (the voice of experience). Don't use a chair for a ladder. Don't get on your roof without restraint. Don't mess with electrical outlets if you don't know what you're doing. Generally, pay attention to what you're doing. Think about the amount of time it takes to be careful versus the amount of time it takes to recover. Or the amount of time it takes your survivors to recover.
Today is the first Sunday of Lent. This season beginning with Ash Wednesday through Easter Sunday traditionally is a time of penance and self-denial. Many Christians choose to give up something significant during this six week period. There are a myriad of ways people choose to observe this time of preparation. However, Lent is not only a time of preparation, but is also a time of celebration.
Thinking about the incident that night on I-75 I am so very thankful that it didn't involve tow trucks and policemen and insurance companies and ambulances and hospitals. Or body shops (think about that). So for Lent, I'm not giving up dark chocolate or mixed nuts. I'm not giving up Netflix or my Bose headphones. For Lent 2016 I'm giving up carelessness. I'm celebrating mindfulness. I will live the next six weeks deliberately. I will pay attention. I will live to the fullest. But whatever happens I won't be able to avoid accidents. Accidents can never be avoided. That's why they call them accidents.
Although I am a careful driver, I have been involved in quite a few car accidents. A few of them were my fault. Most of them were not. Thankfully, there has been much more damage to vehicles than to human beings, but they are very personally invasive and time-consuming. They involve tow trucks, policemen, insurance companies and body shops, In some cases the wreck involved buying another car. In one case the mishap involved a hospital. In at least two of them I could have been killed. In one of those two wrecks no one was hurt. In the other collision I was the only one injured. In that last one I was traveling on an interstate on a clear morning. I was driving in the right lane on a straight highway at the speed limit. No one was in front of me or beside me when the accident occurred. I was suddenly struck from the rear by a car going fast enough to total my car. From my standpoint, it couldn't have been avoided. Once I was hit by a car as a pedestrian. If anything had been totaled in that accident, it would have been me. I have learned from all of the accidents and I feel that I minimize automobile accidents with hard earned defensive driving skills.
But of all the accidents that actually happened, it's one of them that didn't happen that I remember the most vividly. About four years ago my wife and I were traveling on I-75 north to Indiana. It was around 10pm and we were about thirty miles south of Cincinnati, Ohio. We were in the left lane passing an 18-wheeler. The truck was to our right and there was a concrete barrier to our left. As we were nearly even with the cab of the truck, the truck started changing lanes on to us. I started braking and laid on the horn. Since the truck was moving ahead and we were gradually slowing, the illusion was that we were going backwards in slow-motion. The inverted V of that space continued to close as we continued to slide backwards in that space. There could not have been more than a foot of clearance on either side. Each micro second I kept expecting to hear the scraping of our car against the concrete on one side and feeling the crush of the truck on the other. But neither ever happened. In what seemed like an eternity, but was only a matter of seconds, the truck was completely in the left lane and we were behind it--in one piece. It was over. He never knew what didn't hit him. Heart pumping. Adrenaline surging. Hands shaking. But we were safe. So did we avoid an accident? No, we didn't have an accident. If we had had an accident, it couldn't have been avoided.
Accidents can't be avoided, but they can be minimized. You can never drink and drive. You can never text and drive. You can never read a text and drive. You can never check Facebook or email and drive. You can use a hands-free telephone. Dialing and driving is texting and driving. You can drive the speed limit. You can keep a reasonable distance between yourself and the car ahead of you. If the car ahead of you slams on brakes, you brake too, but pay attention to the car behind you (now that space you left in front of you matters a great deal). You can always use your turn signal and check your blind spots. When you're changing lanes on a multi-lane interstate, make sure another car isn't claiming the same lane from the other direction. Don't text while you walk. Look both ways before you cross the street and then glance back at that first way. If you're riding your bicycle in traffic, expect lane changes and doors opening. Most accidents happen in your home, which makes sense because you spend the most time there--Don't go up and down wooden steps in your socks. If you do, watch every step (the voice of experience). Don't use a chair for a ladder. Don't get on your roof without restraint. Don't mess with electrical outlets if you don't know what you're doing. Generally, pay attention to what you're doing. Think about the amount of time it takes to be careful versus the amount of time it takes to recover. Or the amount of time it takes your survivors to recover.
Today is the first Sunday of Lent. This season beginning with Ash Wednesday through Easter Sunday traditionally is a time of penance and self-denial. Many Christians choose to give up something significant during this six week period. There are a myriad of ways people choose to observe this time of preparation. However, Lent is not only a time of preparation, but is also a time of celebration.
Thinking about the incident that night on I-75 I am so very thankful that it didn't involve tow trucks and policemen and insurance companies and ambulances and hospitals. Or body shops (think about that). So for Lent, I'm not giving up dark chocolate or mixed nuts. I'm not giving up Netflix or my Bose headphones. For Lent 2016 I'm giving up carelessness. I'm celebrating mindfulness. I will live the next six weeks deliberately. I will pay attention. I will live to the fullest. But whatever happens I won't be able to avoid accidents. Accidents can never be avoided. That's why they call them accidents.
Friday, February 12, 2016
Thus Saith the Lord
Yesterday morning a woman who had been a missionary in Zambia for 15 years told me that "the Lord" had led her to move back home.
In the Christian tradition "the Lord" is generally used to designate Jesus as "the Lord and Savior." Jesus, however, is not the only "Lord" mentioned in the Bible. There's the "Lord God", in the Old Testament Jewish tradition. But the Bible also mentions Beelzebub, "the Lord of the flies". Then there is Satan, "the Lord of this world," And others.
Three other major religions worship and venerate "the Lord." Hinduism claims three major dieties, Lord Vishnu, Lord Shiva and Lord Brahma. And there's Lord Buddha and Allah, "the Lord of Lords," according to the Qur'an.
When a Christian talks about "the Lord", it's safe to assume that s/he's referring to Jesus. My missionary friend said that "the Lord" had made it clear to her that it was time to leave Africa and come home. I think for most of us this is easy to accept and understand. It's not difficult to believe that a Christian minister is able to discern the voice of Jesus in her life. But following "the Lord," even when it's your heart's deepest desire, is not always that easy to do.
Everyone finds direction in his or her life in his or her own way. For the Christian, on the surface this seems like such a wonderful thing--"Ask the God of all creation to guide this decision. This way I know I'm making the right decision and doing the right thing for myself and everyone else involved." If it's "God's will" then nothing else really matters". If it's that easy then sure, ask "the Lord" about everything! But here's the rub. You have to receive that direction in some manner. According to the Bible, in both Testaments, "the Lord" spoke audibly to a multitude of His followers and told them exactly what to do. So the question was never "What does God want me to do?", but "Am I willing to do what God just told me to do?" Wouldn't it be nice if it was that simple?
Although some modern Christians claim to have actually heard God's voice speaking to them, most of us have not had that experience. That means we have to discern that voice in some other manner. Some say it's just a feeling, an impression or an inner voice. Some read a favorite Bible passage and find the answer there. Or s/he just opens the Bible at random and practices the ancient art of Bibliomancy. Some talk to a family member or trusted friend and accept his or her wisdom and guidance as the leadership of "the Lord." Some trust circumstances or look for a tangible sign. Whatever method someone employs, there is disconnect, a space between the request and the answer. Something has to fill that space. It's very important what fills that space. There is much spiritual, emotional, mental and moral competition for what fills that space. The decision this person reaches depends totally on what's in this space, this filter.
People have done some horrible things because "the Lord" told them to do it. They've burned down houses. They've killed other people. They've even killed their own children. They've killed themselves. That's why I say it is so important what fills that gap.
Here are seven tests to fill that gap that I recommend to discern "the voice of the Lord" in any decision.
1. Are my motives for the good of myself and others?
2..Will this be harmful to me or anyone else?
3. Is this the loving thing to do?
4. Are the most significant people in my life comfortable with this decision? If not, why not? Am I still ok with that?
5. Can I live with this decision with personal peace?
6. Does this decision square with my personal values?
7. Am I willing to live with the consequences of this decision?
Bonus question: "Does it help?"
The next time you hear someone tell you what "the Lord" told them to do, ask yourself "Which Lord?" And "How did He speak to you?" And if they start telling you what "the Lord" told them to tell you --RUN !!
In the Christian tradition "the Lord" is generally used to designate Jesus as "the Lord and Savior." Jesus, however, is not the only "Lord" mentioned in the Bible. There's the "Lord God", in the Old Testament Jewish tradition. But the Bible also mentions Beelzebub, "the Lord of the flies". Then there is Satan, "the Lord of this world," And others.
Three other major religions worship and venerate "the Lord." Hinduism claims three major dieties, Lord Vishnu, Lord Shiva and Lord Brahma. And there's Lord Buddha and Allah, "the Lord of Lords," according to the Qur'an.
When a Christian talks about "the Lord", it's safe to assume that s/he's referring to Jesus. My missionary friend said that "the Lord" had made it clear to her that it was time to leave Africa and come home. I think for most of us this is easy to accept and understand. It's not difficult to believe that a Christian minister is able to discern the voice of Jesus in her life. But following "the Lord," even when it's your heart's deepest desire, is not always that easy to do.
Everyone finds direction in his or her life in his or her own way. For the Christian, on the surface this seems like such a wonderful thing--"Ask the God of all creation to guide this decision. This way I know I'm making the right decision and doing the right thing for myself and everyone else involved." If it's "God's will" then nothing else really matters". If it's that easy then sure, ask "the Lord" about everything! But here's the rub. You have to receive that direction in some manner. According to the Bible, in both Testaments, "the Lord" spoke audibly to a multitude of His followers and told them exactly what to do. So the question was never "What does God want me to do?", but "Am I willing to do what God just told me to do?" Wouldn't it be nice if it was that simple?
Although some modern Christians claim to have actually heard God's voice speaking to them, most of us have not had that experience. That means we have to discern that voice in some other manner. Some say it's just a feeling, an impression or an inner voice. Some read a favorite Bible passage and find the answer there. Or s/he just opens the Bible at random and practices the ancient art of Bibliomancy. Some talk to a family member or trusted friend and accept his or her wisdom and guidance as the leadership of "the Lord." Some trust circumstances or look for a tangible sign. Whatever method someone employs, there is disconnect, a space between the request and the answer. Something has to fill that space. It's very important what fills that space. There is much spiritual, emotional, mental and moral competition for what fills that space. The decision this person reaches depends totally on what's in this space, this filter.
People have done some horrible things because "the Lord" told them to do it. They've burned down houses. They've killed other people. They've even killed their own children. They've killed themselves. That's why I say it is so important what fills that gap.
Here are seven tests to fill that gap that I recommend to discern "the voice of the Lord" in any decision.
1. Are my motives for the good of myself and others?
2..Will this be harmful to me or anyone else?
3. Is this the loving thing to do?
4. Are the most significant people in my life comfortable with this decision? If not, why not? Am I still ok with that?
5. Can I live with this decision with personal peace?
6. Does this decision square with my personal values?
7. Am I willing to live with the consequences of this decision?
Bonus question: "Does it help?"
The next time you hear someone tell you what "the Lord" told them to do, ask yourself "Which Lord?" And "How did He speak to you?" And if they start telling you what "the Lord" told them to tell you --RUN !!
Monday, February 8, 2016
Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory
"Memorable moments of heightened awareness, 'mountaintop moments', cannot be manufactured. They break in upon us, surprise us, usually leave us feeling shaken and vulnerable. In such times we see that life holds more potential, more mystery than our rational minds comprehend. Mountaintop moments are awesome reminders of God's reality, but are they where our own reality gets lived day by day? To climb up the mountain is not to escape reality, not to seek something lofty beyond us, but to see what is before us, right in front of us now. The mountain is not a pinnacle but a passage, leading us back into the daily work of God's dream, that beautiful indescribable vision. We carry it with us, hold it before us, ponder it and journey on." Kayla McClurg , From the Lectionary, Transfiguration Sunday, February 7,2016, Luke 9:28-43.
I have alluded to the fact that, for whatever reason, I have experienced more than my share of "mountaintop experiences." As McClurg has so eloquently stated, it is the nature of a "mountaintop experience" that it "breaks in" to an ordinary day in an extraordinary way. It leaves you shaken and changed. McClurg no doubt is writing from personal experience.
Whereas most of my mystical experiences did not happen on a mountain, a few of them actually did. One was on a mountainside near Talledega, Alabama in the spring of 1973. Another was on Lookout Mountain, Georgia around 1982. In 1973 in Alabama an eagle found me in a most extraordinary way. It was a literal, physical, beautiful and majestic bird of prey sent by God as an answer to a specific prayer, a prayer I had prayed less than a hour prior to the experience. In 1982 I made a dangerous and potentially deadly decision to drive up Lookout mountain into the teeth of a developing lightning storm. At that time I was under the illusion that a half inch of rubber somehow insulated me from a lightning strike. After what happened, I'm glad I didn't know any better; I'm glad that I drove into harm's way. Something extraordinary happened. And I was there.
I love what McClurg reminds us that you don't climb the mountain to escape reality, what happens is as real as anything that ever happens. At the time this mystery feels more real than anything that has ever happened. But "the mountain is not a pinnacle but a passage" she says.
pas.sage (noun)--The act or process of moving through, under, over or past something on the way from one place to another.
We all learned in elementary school that a noun is "a person, place or thing." Given those choices I would think that a passage is a "place". But don't we think of a passage as less of a place that exists for itself and more of a thing that exists as a conduit to somewhere else? A passage is a means to an end--from one end to another, to be more specific. Passage, the place, creates an image of something moving through it. Those "persons" or "things" moving through it seem to be the objects we notice more than the passage itself. Or are those places that exist on either side of the passage what we think about?
What happened on Lookout Mountain actually happened. At least it happened for me. It was an event in space and time. But as Hugh Prestwood wrote and Trisha Yearwood sang "It was like a lighted match had been tossed into my soul." As I drove back home in the middle of the night through Chattanooga Valley on Highway 193, the blinding brilliance and deafening thunder already existed only in my recent memory. Monday morning at work things were just as I had left them the past week. Nobody knew I had been on Lookout Mountain and nobody cared. But I cared. I cared more deeply. I saw things more clearly. As McClurg states the mountain "leads us back into the daily work." The daily work hadn't changed, But I had changed.
So where is that experience now? Does it even exist? "We carry it with us, hold it before us, ponder it and journey on."
I have alluded to the fact that, for whatever reason, I have experienced more than my share of "mountaintop experiences." As McClurg has so eloquently stated, it is the nature of a "mountaintop experience" that it "breaks in" to an ordinary day in an extraordinary way. It leaves you shaken and changed. McClurg no doubt is writing from personal experience.
Whereas most of my mystical experiences did not happen on a mountain, a few of them actually did. One was on a mountainside near Talledega, Alabama in the spring of 1973. Another was on Lookout Mountain, Georgia around 1982. In 1973 in Alabama an eagle found me in a most extraordinary way. It was a literal, physical, beautiful and majestic bird of prey sent by God as an answer to a specific prayer, a prayer I had prayed less than a hour prior to the experience. In 1982 I made a dangerous and potentially deadly decision to drive up Lookout mountain into the teeth of a developing lightning storm. At that time I was under the illusion that a half inch of rubber somehow insulated me from a lightning strike. After what happened, I'm glad I didn't know any better; I'm glad that I drove into harm's way. Something extraordinary happened. And I was there.
I love what McClurg reminds us that you don't climb the mountain to escape reality, what happens is as real as anything that ever happens. At the time this mystery feels more real than anything that has ever happened. But "the mountain is not a pinnacle but a passage" she says.
pas.sage (noun)--The act or process of moving through, under, over or past something on the way from one place to another.
We all learned in elementary school that a noun is "a person, place or thing." Given those choices I would think that a passage is a "place". But don't we think of a passage as less of a place that exists for itself and more of a thing that exists as a conduit to somewhere else? A passage is a means to an end--from one end to another, to be more specific. Passage, the place, creates an image of something moving through it. Those "persons" or "things" moving through it seem to be the objects we notice more than the passage itself. Or are those places that exist on either side of the passage what we think about?
What happened on Lookout Mountain actually happened. At least it happened for me. It was an event in space and time. But as Hugh Prestwood wrote and Trisha Yearwood sang "It was like a lighted match had been tossed into my soul." As I drove back home in the middle of the night through Chattanooga Valley on Highway 193, the blinding brilliance and deafening thunder already existed only in my recent memory. Monday morning at work things were just as I had left them the past week. Nobody knew I had been on Lookout Mountain and nobody cared. But I cared. I cared more deeply. I saw things more clearly. As McClurg states the mountain "leads us back into the daily work." The daily work hadn't changed, But I had changed.
So where is that experience now? Does it even exist? "We carry it with us, hold it before us, ponder it and journey on."
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Beer: The Food of the Gods
"Do you know why Mrs. Bee stayed with Mr. Bee? Because he loved his honey and nectar." Unknown
I was raised in a Southern Baptist church by deeply devout Southern Baptist parents who were raised by deeply devout Southern Baptists. I wasn't just a "Southern Baptist"; I was an "Alabama Baptist." Alabama Baptists know what's "right" and what's "wrong." You'd have to be there to know how "wrong" is pronounced. It sounds a lot like the word you're familiar with, but there's a roll of the tongue and a ring to it. And that means that it has always been WRONG, it is WRONG now and it will always be WRONG! Not only is it WRONG for all of time, but it's WRONG for all people!! Another name Southern Baptists give this moral designation is SIN ! To a devout Southern Baptist "sin" is not a good thing. It's nearly as bad as WRONG!
In my church and my home it was "wrong" to consume any alcoholic beverage at any time for any reason. I even heard a Baptist pastor shout "I'd rather have a live rattlesnake on my table than a bottle of whiskey!" So as a good Southern Baptist I never touched the stuff. I wasn't even all that curious about it. And what I smelled in a two day old empty beer can on the beach certainly wasn't too appetizing.
But Southern Baptists also believe the Bible or at least the way they understand the Bible. And they put one in my hands. And I read it for myself. I found there some surprising things about what's right and what's wrong. I also found some specific things about the consumption of alcohol. I found in the teachings of Paul that what is "sin", i.e. wrong, is different things to different people. Even before I attended that liberal seminary in Louisville six years later, I introduced myself to "situation ethics." In 1 Corinthians Chapter 8 and Romans Chapter 14, I read where Paul said that if something is right for you then let it be right for you. But if you know it's wrong for someone else don't flaunt your freedom in front of him and "cause your brother to stumble." But Paul made it clear that just because someone else thinks it's a sin doesn't make it a sin for you. He also said, "Don't let your good be evil spoken of." So the Bible is saying that something can be wrong for somebody else and right for me? Yes that's exactly what it's saying. Well, that's the way I read it. So the preacher can stand in the pulpit and tell me it's wrong and it may or may not be wrong for me? It's in black and white in the New Testament of the Holy Bible. You can read it for yourself.
Besides several verses in the Old Testament that mention wine "cheering the heart" and such as that, there is the most often referenced story of Jesus' first miracle at the wedding in Cana. There at the urging of his mother, Jesus, the Son of God, transformed about 300 gallons of water into 300 gallons of wine. The steward said it was some of the best wine he had ever tasted. And for those country preachers who said "Hit won't real alkihol," the Bible says that Jesus performed the miracle after the guests were already drunk. "That's just WRONG!"
At the ripe old age of 32 I tasted beer for myself. It was a Heineken. It was from a refrigerator and not from the beach. It was surprisingly delightful. I've been enjoying beer ever since. It took me about two years to garner the courage to drink a beer in front of my dad. My brother saw the scene developing and gave me a look like "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? !! " It took Dad a minute to notice, but when he did he just started laughing. In many ways my friendship with my father began in that moment. After that. I even started packing Miller Lite on our fishing trips to Florida along with the Coke.
Did you know that Roman Catholic monks were some of the first people to brew beer commercially?Going back to the 5th century, since most of them fasted during Lent, they brewed the beer at the monastery and drank the beer as their only source of food,. Then they also sold the beer in the market place to help fund their various charitable missions. Monks still do this today. There are only nine Trappist breweries in the world. The beer that I'm drinking now is Spencer Trappist Ale. This beer is to be consumed at room temperature. That's important. This ale is from the only Trappist brewery in the United States. The St. Joseph's monastery is located in Spencer, Massachusetts.
Technically the food of the gods was ambrosia and nectar. These foods were so powerful eating and drinking them could convey immortality on mere mortals. It isn't too clear what their preferred drink nectar actually was. But could it have been beer? Those monks had to learn how to brew from somebody. Why not the gods? Oh and what my church taught me about that "nectar" thing with the bees? It was WRONG !!
I was raised in a Southern Baptist church by deeply devout Southern Baptist parents who were raised by deeply devout Southern Baptists. I wasn't just a "Southern Baptist"; I was an "Alabama Baptist." Alabama Baptists know what's "right" and what's "wrong." You'd have to be there to know how "wrong" is pronounced. It sounds a lot like the word you're familiar with, but there's a roll of the tongue and a ring to it. And that means that it has always been WRONG, it is WRONG now and it will always be WRONG! Not only is it WRONG for all of time, but it's WRONG for all people!! Another name Southern Baptists give this moral designation is SIN ! To a devout Southern Baptist "sin" is not a good thing. It's nearly as bad as WRONG!
In my church and my home it was "wrong" to consume any alcoholic beverage at any time for any reason. I even heard a Baptist pastor shout "I'd rather have a live rattlesnake on my table than a bottle of whiskey!" So as a good Southern Baptist I never touched the stuff. I wasn't even all that curious about it. And what I smelled in a two day old empty beer can on the beach certainly wasn't too appetizing.
But Southern Baptists also believe the Bible or at least the way they understand the Bible. And they put one in my hands. And I read it for myself. I found there some surprising things about what's right and what's wrong. I also found some specific things about the consumption of alcohol. I found in the teachings of Paul that what is "sin", i.e. wrong, is different things to different people. Even before I attended that liberal seminary in Louisville six years later, I introduced myself to "situation ethics." In 1 Corinthians Chapter 8 and Romans Chapter 14, I read where Paul said that if something is right for you then let it be right for you. But if you know it's wrong for someone else don't flaunt your freedom in front of him and "cause your brother to stumble." But Paul made it clear that just because someone else thinks it's a sin doesn't make it a sin for you. He also said, "Don't let your good be evil spoken of." So the Bible is saying that something can be wrong for somebody else and right for me? Yes that's exactly what it's saying. Well, that's the way I read it. So the preacher can stand in the pulpit and tell me it's wrong and it may or may not be wrong for me? It's in black and white in the New Testament of the Holy Bible. You can read it for yourself.
Besides several verses in the Old Testament that mention wine "cheering the heart" and such as that, there is the most often referenced story of Jesus' first miracle at the wedding in Cana. There at the urging of his mother, Jesus, the Son of God, transformed about 300 gallons of water into 300 gallons of wine. The steward said it was some of the best wine he had ever tasted. And for those country preachers who said "Hit won't real alkihol," the Bible says that Jesus performed the miracle after the guests were already drunk. "That's just WRONG!"
At the ripe old age of 32 I tasted beer for myself. It was a Heineken. It was from a refrigerator and not from the beach. It was surprisingly delightful. I've been enjoying beer ever since. It took me about two years to garner the courage to drink a beer in front of my dad. My brother saw the scene developing and gave me a look like "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? !! " It took Dad a minute to notice, but when he did he just started laughing. In many ways my friendship with my father began in that moment. After that. I even started packing Miller Lite on our fishing trips to Florida along with the Coke.
Did you know that Roman Catholic monks were some of the first people to brew beer commercially?Going back to the 5th century, since most of them fasted during Lent, they brewed the beer at the monastery and drank the beer as their only source of food,. Then they also sold the beer in the market place to help fund their various charitable missions. Monks still do this today. There are only nine Trappist breweries in the world. The beer that I'm drinking now is Spencer Trappist Ale. This beer is to be consumed at room temperature. That's important. This ale is from the only Trappist brewery in the United States. The St. Joseph's monastery is located in Spencer, Massachusetts.
Technically the food of the gods was ambrosia and nectar. These foods were so powerful eating and drinking them could convey immortality on mere mortals. It isn't too clear what their preferred drink nectar actually was. But could it have been beer? Those monks had to learn how to brew from somebody. Why not the gods? Oh and what my church taught me about that "nectar" thing with the bees? It was WRONG !!
God Bless Ms. Mills
"There is an experience of the Eternal breaking into time, which transforms all life into a miracle of faith and action." A Testament of Devotion by Robert R. Kelly, 1941.
I'm well into a book that my sister recommended to me entitled 10% Happier by Dan Harris. Specifically I'm on page 84. Since there are 225 pages in the book, then shouldn't I be at least 3.7% happier by now?
So how did I arrive at 3.7% ? I find basic math skills to be very useful. My first experience with any math other than arithmetic was in the seventh grade when I took algebra 1 under Ms. Mills.. She became much more important to me than just by being my math teacher. She was also my homeroom teacher. At the Enterprise Junior High we had seven academic periods and then homeroom in the middle of the day. When I made the dramatic shift from one teacher/one class all day in elementary school to seven teachers/seven classes in junior high, I was the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights. I was completely lost in a myriad of ways.
So besides teaching me algebra, Ms. Mills was my homeroom teacher as well.. "Home"room. "Home". Homeroom was a safe place in the middle of the day. She was a safe place. Thinking back over the years I have remembered her as a mother figure who let me know that everything was all right. That I was going to be all right. Thinking now, as a grandfather, I remember her more as a grandmother--as one who provided complete love and acceptance no matter what. Or who knows, maybe she was an angel? "If I can just make it to homeroom, then I can make it through the day."
But Ms. Mills did teach me basic algebra as well. When I took algebra again in business school another deer-in-the-headlights situation occurred. Only this time it wasn't me. A young lady raised her hand and said, "Dr. Poor, I understand numbers, it's all these letters that mix me up." Good luck with that.
From algebra in the seventh grade I went on to solid geometry and trigonometry in high school. Then in business school just a few years ago, I not only aced College Algebra but passed College Calculus as well. That C in calculus at age 57 was the proudest grade of my academic career. It was in calculus that for the first time I glimpsed the meaning of the phrase "the beauty of mathematics." Calculus is indeed a beautiful thing--the mathematical study of change.
I find basic math skills, algebra in particular, to be very useful in my daily living. Using ratio and proportions has been my mathematical salvation over the years. If I can turn a math question into a word problem and then into an equation, I can figure it out
I'm reading the book 10% Happier. I'm now on page 84 of the book. So theoretically how much happier should I already be? First of all, since there are 225 pages in the book I simply divide the smaller by the larger to find out what percent of 225 is 84. Then 84/225 yields 37%. Now that wasn't a word problem. I just know that's how it's done. So then should I now be 37% happier? No, that's counter intuitive because I'm only 10% happier after reading the entire book. So now I have to figure out how much is 37% of 10%. Those of you who are good at this have already calculated it in your head. It's the same way you figure a 20% tip at the table in your favorite restaurant(most of my servers get 20% because who can figure 18% in their head?). But here's what you do. You turn it into a word problem and go from there. "What is 37% of 10%?" Now in math "of" means "multiply". I simply multiply 37% times 10% to get 3.7%. So there you have it. I should be 3.7% happier than I was yesterday when I started reading the book. I feel at least that much happier completing this math exercise.
In his book 10% Happier the noted news anchor Dan Harris tells of his transformational journey from high anxiety and stress to personal peace. In his association with the "guru" Eckhart Tolle, he grasped the concept of "The Eternal Now." The quote above journals my personal introduction to the concept of "The Eternal Now" . On November 20, 1981, my heart still strangely warmed after the birth of my son four months prior, my new and now lifetime friend Alan Mason put this book in my hands. Whereas I can't report that I was "transformed", it was a significant beginning for me. "Now", 35 years later, Harris brilliantly reminds me of the concept.
So if I'm 62 years old, and Alan gave me that book 35 years ago, how much of my lifetime have I had access to the concept of The Eternal Now? Do the math.
I'm well into a book that my sister recommended to me entitled 10% Happier by Dan Harris. Specifically I'm on page 84. Since there are 225 pages in the book, then shouldn't I be at least 3.7% happier by now?
So how did I arrive at 3.7% ? I find basic math skills to be very useful. My first experience with any math other than arithmetic was in the seventh grade when I took algebra 1 under Ms. Mills.. She became much more important to me than just by being my math teacher. She was also my homeroom teacher. At the Enterprise Junior High we had seven academic periods and then homeroom in the middle of the day. When I made the dramatic shift from one teacher/one class all day in elementary school to seven teachers/seven classes in junior high, I was the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights. I was completely lost in a myriad of ways.
So besides teaching me algebra, Ms. Mills was my homeroom teacher as well.. "Home"room. "Home". Homeroom was a safe place in the middle of the day. She was a safe place. Thinking back over the years I have remembered her as a mother figure who let me know that everything was all right. That I was going to be all right. Thinking now, as a grandfather, I remember her more as a grandmother--as one who provided complete love and acceptance no matter what. Or who knows, maybe she was an angel? "If I can just make it to homeroom, then I can make it through the day."
But Ms. Mills did teach me basic algebra as well. When I took algebra again in business school another deer-in-the-headlights situation occurred. Only this time it wasn't me. A young lady raised her hand and said, "Dr. Poor, I understand numbers, it's all these letters that mix me up." Good luck with that.
From algebra in the seventh grade I went on to solid geometry and trigonometry in high school. Then in business school just a few years ago, I not only aced College Algebra but passed College Calculus as well. That C in calculus at age 57 was the proudest grade of my academic career. It was in calculus that for the first time I glimpsed the meaning of the phrase "the beauty of mathematics." Calculus is indeed a beautiful thing--the mathematical study of change.
I find basic math skills, algebra in particular, to be very useful in my daily living. Using ratio and proportions has been my mathematical salvation over the years. If I can turn a math question into a word problem and then into an equation, I can figure it out
I'm reading the book 10% Happier. I'm now on page 84 of the book. So theoretically how much happier should I already be? First of all, since there are 225 pages in the book I simply divide the smaller by the larger to find out what percent of 225 is 84. Then 84/225 yields 37%. Now that wasn't a word problem. I just know that's how it's done. So then should I now be 37% happier? No, that's counter intuitive because I'm only 10% happier after reading the entire book. So now I have to figure out how much is 37% of 10%. Those of you who are good at this have already calculated it in your head. It's the same way you figure a 20% tip at the table in your favorite restaurant(most of my servers get 20% because who can figure 18% in their head?). But here's what you do. You turn it into a word problem and go from there. "What is 37% of 10%?" Now in math "of" means "multiply". I simply multiply 37% times 10% to get 3.7%. So there you have it. I should be 3.7% happier than I was yesterday when I started reading the book. I feel at least that much happier completing this math exercise.
In his book 10% Happier the noted news anchor Dan Harris tells of his transformational journey from high anxiety and stress to personal peace. In his association with the "guru" Eckhart Tolle, he grasped the concept of "The Eternal Now." The quote above journals my personal introduction to the concept of "The Eternal Now" . On November 20, 1981, my heart still strangely warmed after the birth of my son four months prior, my new and now lifetime friend Alan Mason put this book in my hands. Whereas I can't report that I was "transformed", it was a significant beginning for me. "Now", 35 years later, Harris brilliantly reminds me of the concept.
So if I'm 62 years old, and Alan gave me that book 35 years ago, how much of my lifetime have I had access to the concept of The Eternal Now? Do the math.
Friday, February 5, 2016
Perception Altering Moment
I have become aware of the fact I use "it was a life-changing experience" far too often. The truth is that when I use that phrase, it really was a "life-changing experience." It has occurred to me though that if I use the terminology too often, then it loses its value. People roll their eyes. I mean how many "life-changing experiences" can one person have in a lifetime?
I want to argue before I make my point that all day every day are life-changing experiences. Assuming that none of these things happened to you today, you didn't get broadsided by a dump truck that ran a stop sign. You didn't get food poisoning from the restaurant where you ate lunch. You didn't miss the curb walking into the store and break both wrists. You nor your spouse had a heart attack or a stroke. Obviously this list could get very long. And you see what I'm saying. Our lives change constantly. Or don't change constantly as the case may be. Either way it's life changing.
This afternoon something happened that I'm tempted to tell you was "a life-changing experience." On my way home from the conversation I decided instead to call it "a perception altering moment, a PAM
I have a really bad habit of being concerned about things that are literally none of my concern. I let situations and events bother me that shouldn't bother me. But they do.
I had a meeting this afternoon with a woman who works for the Chattanooga Transportation Planning Organization. I presented a few ideas on how I think several of our daily traffic tie-ups could be helped. Early in the conversation she let me know that I was talking to the wrong person, that these issues were not issues she could do anything about. But she did say that she would pass my ideas along to a local representative with the Tennessee Department of Transportation. In doing so my suggestions had gone full circle. An email to TDOT resulted in a referral to the Georgia Department of Transportation. GDOT then referred me to the Chattanooga Transportation Planning Organization. She told me that she would let this TDOT regional representative know that I had some good ideas and suggest that he meet with me to hear me out.
So where's the PAM? It's coming. Although she let me know that she couldn't help me, she then spent about an hour discussing what her organization does in Chattanooga and some of the intricacies of transportation at the local, state and federal levels. I even learned that there is a "Bible" of transportation planning. The Manual on Uniform Traffic Control Devices (MUTCD) controls everything. Nothing happens in transportation on the federal or state level that is not authorized by this manual. The Federal Highway Administration published this manual in 1936. It celebrated it's 80th anniversary on November 7th, 2015. The latest edition was published in 2009 with revisions in 2012. Can you imagine what traffic was like in 1936 and yet this manual is still the standard today?
All that being said, here's the PAM. She told me the story of the lengthy process and the hoops they had to jump through to get directional signs in Chattanooga for the then new Tennessee Aquarium. All they wanted to do was to let people know how to get from Highway 27 to the aquarium(about four blocks). I asked her, "Isn't that frustrating knowing some simple thing that needs to be done and you have to go through all the red tape to do it?" She said, "It's not frustrating at all. I'm not a traffic engineer. They understand the whole situation and I don't. If they took my ideas somebody could get killed. I let them figure it out". PAM !!!
"They understand the situation and I don't." Do you understand how marvelously freeing this is? I can let things go to higher powers. I not only can't fix it, but I shouldn't try to fix it. I should forget about it and think about something else. I should be concerned about something else. Or not.
I drove to downtown Chattanooga with the full intention of affecting the traffic flow on two major interstates that converge in Chattanooga. Yes, I actually thought I could do that. It really is a good idea. I mean don't little people do big things every day? And I may still can, but that's not the point. The point is that it's probably not be mine to fix. There are thousands of people in two states who know that "Bible" chapter and verse, who have the authority and the ability to make these necessary changes.
I'm taking the night off from all major decisions and all Herculean efforts. But tomorrow when I read the news and am tempted to be concerned about things that don't concern me or I'm even horrified by some world situation, I'm going to say "I'm not God. He understands the situation and I don't. I'm going to let Him handle it. If He took my suggestion it would probably get much worse. I'm going to let Him fix it.". Then I'm going to read a good novel.
I want to argue before I make my point that all day every day are life-changing experiences. Assuming that none of these things happened to you today, you didn't get broadsided by a dump truck that ran a stop sign. You didn't get food poisoning from the restaurant where you ate lunch. You didn't miss the curb walking into the store and break both wrists. You nor your spouse had a heart attack or a stroke. Obviously this list could get very long. And you see what I'm saying. Our lives change constantly. Or don't change constantly as the case may be. Either way it's life changing.
This afternoon something happened that I'm tempted to tell you was "a life-changing experience." On my way home from the conversation I decided instead to call it "a perception altering moment, a PAM
I have a really bad habit of being concerned about things that are literally none of my concern. I let situations and events bother me that shouldn't bother me. But they do.
I had a meeting this afternoon with a woman who works for the Chattanooga Transportation Planning Organization. I presented a few ideas on how I think several of our daily traffic tie-ups could be helped. Early in the conversation she let me know that I was talking to the wrong person, that these issues were not issues she could do anything about. But she did say that she would pass my ideas along to a local representative with the Tennessee Department of Transportation. In doing so my suggestions had gone full circle. An email to TDOT resulted in a referral to the Georgia Department of Transportation. GDOT then referred me to the Chattanooga Transportation Planning Organization. She told me that she would let this TDOT regional representative know that I had some good ideas and suggest that he meet with me to hear me out.
So where's the PAM? It's coming. Although she let me know that she couldn't help me, she then spent about an hour discussing what her organization does in Chattanooga and some of the intricacies of transportation at the local, state and federal levels. I even learned that there is a "Bible" of transportation planning. The Manual on Uniform Traffic Control Devices (MUTCD) controls everything. Nothing happens in transportation on the federal or state level that is not authorized by this manual. The Federal Highway Administration published this manual in 1936. It celebrated it's 80th anniversary on November 7th, 2015. The latest edition was published in 2009 with revisions in 2012. Can you imagine what traffic was like in 1936 and yet this manual is still the standard today?
All that being said, here's the PAM. She told me the story of the lengthy process and the hoops they had to jump through to get directional signs in Chattanooga for the then new Tennessee Aquarium. All they wanted to do was to let people know how to get from Highway 27 to the aquarium(about four blocks). I asked her, "Isn't that frustrating knowing some simple thing that needs to be done and you have to go through all the red tape to do it?" She said, "It's not frustrating at all. I'm not a traffic engineer. They understand the whole situation and I don't. If they took my ideas somebody could get killed. I let them figure it out". PAM !!!
"They understand the situation and I don't." Do you understand how marvelously freeing this is? I can let things go to higher powers. I not only can't fix it, but I shouldn't try to fix it. I should forget about it and think about something else. I should be concerned about something else. Or not.
I drove to downtown Chattanooga with the full intention of affecting the traffic flow on two major interstates that converge in Chattanooga. Yes, I actually thought I could do that. It really is a good idea. I mean don't little people do big things every day? And I may still can, but that's not the point. The point is that it's probably not be mine to fix. There are thousands of people in two states who know that "Bible" chapter and verse, who have the authority and the ability to make these necessary changes.
I'm taking the night off from all major decisions and all Herculean efforts. But tomorrow when I read the news and am tempted to be concerned about things that don't concern me or I'm even horrified by some world situation, I'm going to say "I'm not God. He understands the situation and I don't. I'm going to let Him handle it. If He took my suggestion it would probably get much worse. I'm going to let Him fix it.". Then I'm going to read a good novel.
Monday, February 1, 2016
Basic Goodness
"If we are willing to take an unbiased look, we will find that, in spite of all our problems and confusion, all our emotional and psychological ups and downs, there is something basically good about our existence as human beings. We have moments of non-aggression and freshness...it is worthwhile to take advantage of these moments...we have an actual connection to reality that can wake us up and make us feel basically, fundamentally good." Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche
It always happens when I least expect it. I am going about my routine on some ordinary day in some ordinary way, when I am suddenly and inexplicably flooded with the goodness of life, of my life. In those few minutes, and sometimes just a few seconds, the reality of the goodness of existence, of my existence, is the only thing that matters.
I guess it's possible to feel this way most of the time, or at least much of the time. Cognitively I can accept that if this goodness is true for a few minutes then it's true for all time. In reality, in the reality of my own emotions, I don't feel this way very often. And that's a good thing. But the experience always leaves me understanding that there is something more, there is another dimension that is just as real as the everydayness of every day that exists parallel to my own existence.
For the Buddha it was that experience under the Bodhi tree. For John Wesley it was when his heart was strangely warmed on Aldersgate Street. All through history people have had a moment when the fabric of the known human experience ripped open and something beyond themselves spilled into them, In every case nothing for them was ever the same.
My emotions, spirit and psyche must be more stubborn than that. I have sat under such a tree, only it was sitting against a tombstone in a cemetery in Owensboro, Kentucky. My heart has been strangely warmed, only it was in the balcony of the sanctuary of a Baptist church in Dothan, Alabama. For about twenty minutes on a sailboat in Panama City, Florida I was transported somewhere else. I became something else. For about three seconds on Barnhardt Circle in Ft. Oglethorpe, Georgia this other dimension I speak of found me. I felt a joy that I didn't know existed. For about two hours on my sofa in my den in Ringgold, Georgia, I had a dream or a dream had me. I felt an indescribable love, perhaps the love I felt for my mother as a child. Perhaps the love she felt for me. Then near midnight on I-65 north near W. Lafayette, Indiana on Good Friday, my anticipation of seeing my son and his three year old daughter spilled over into the love of God dying for me. Good Friday indeed.
Then shouldn't I know by now the goodness of my life? How many Bodhi trees does it take for my transformation? What will it take for me to wake up for good?
Actually I am awake. I have been transformed. I have been touched and changed to the point that I don't require those otherworldly experiences any more to affirm the goodness of my life. I find that goodness in "the everydayness of every day". I'm working at a computer that's connected to you by nothing but air. This cup of coffee is fresh and hot. This ceramic heater is warm and comforting. My clothes are clean and dry. My eyes aren't perfect, but I can see this screen. This music I'm listening to is the same music I was listening to that marvelous night on I-65. I typed the title into a search box, I clicked on it and the music just started playing. I typed? I have ten fingers that do my bidding. They need no instruction to find the letters that I think up. I learned those home keys in high school forty five years ago. The fingers and the keys have served me well. I haven't eaten anything this morning, but I can when I get ready. There are millions of people in this world who would trade places with me in a second. And never ask for much of anything more. They aren't looking for some magic tree or heart-warming experience, they are looking for something to eat and a place to sleep. They have learned something about basic goodness that I pray I never know.
Rinpoche said that "if we will look...we will find that there is something basically good about our existence as human beings." Yes, we will find. But we do have to look.
It always happens when I least expect it. I am going about my routine on some ordinary day in some ordinary way, when I am suddenly and inexplicably flooded with the goodness of life, of my life. In those few minutes, and sometimes just a few seconds, the reality of the goodness of existence, of my existence, is the only thing that matters.
I guess it's possible to feel this way most of the time, or at least much of the time. Cognitively I can accept that if this goodness is true for a few minutes then it's true for all time. In reality, in the reality of my own emotions, I don't feel this way very often. And that's a good thing. But the experience always leaves me understanding that there is something more, there is another dimension that is just as real as the everydayness of every day that exists parallel to my own existence.
For the Buddha it was that experience under the Bodhi tree. For John Wesley it was when his heart was strangely warmed on Aldersgate Street. All through history people have had a moment when the fabric of the known human experience ripped open and something beyond themselves spilled into them, In every case nothing for them was ever the same.
My emotions, spirit and psyche must be more stubborn than that. I have sat under such a tree, only it was sitting against a tombstone in a cemetery in Owensboro, Kentucky. My heart has been strangely warmed, only it was in the balcony of the sanctuary of a Baptist church in Dothan, Alabama. For about twenty minutes on a sailboat in Panama City, Florida I was transported somewhere else. I became something else. For about three seconds on Barnhardt Circle in Ft. Oglethorpe, Georgia this other dimension I speak of found me. I felt a joy that I didn't know existed. For about two hours on my sofa in my den in Ringgold, Georgia, I had a dream or a dream had me. I felt an indescribable love, perhaps the love I felt for my mother as a child. Perhaps the love she felt for me. Then near midnight on I-65 north near W. Lafayette, Indiana on Good Friday, my anticipation of seeing my son and his three year old daughter spilled over into the love of God dying for me. Good Friday indeed.
Then shouldn't I know by now the goodness of my life? How many Bodhi trees does it take for my transformation? What will it take for me to wake up for good?
Actually I am awake. I have been transformed. I have been touched and changed to the point that I don't require those otherworldly experiences any more to affirm the goodness of my life. I find that goodness in "the everydayness of every day". I'm working at a computer that's connected to you by nothing but air. This cup of coffee is fresh and hot. This ceramic heater is warm and comforting. My clothes are clean and dry. My eyes aren't perfect, but I can see this screen. This music I'm listening to is the same music I was listening to that marvelous night on I-65. I typed the title into a search box, I clicked on it and the music just started playing. I typed? I have ten fingers that do my bidding. They need no instruction to find the letters that I think up. I learned those home keys in high school forty five years ago. The fingers and the keys have served me well. I haven't eaten anything this morning, but I can when I get ready. There are millions of people in this world who would trade places with me in a second. And never ask for much of anything more. They aren't looking for some magic tree or heart-warming experience, they are looking for something to eat and a place to sleep. They have learned something about basic goodness that I pray I never know.
Rinpoche said that "if we will look...we will find that there is something basically good about our existence as human beings." Yes, we will find. But we do have to look.
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