Sorry it's been so quiet around here. First it was busy. Then I was on vacation. I would have liked to put up a bunch of posts today, in order to keep my monthly average up, but it looks like that's not going to happen, since there are only 35 minutes left in this month.
So instead, here is a haiku I wrote on the train. More on my trip later...
Round remnants of snow
in trees, from a train up North,
recall cotton fields.
The train was lovely, and I'll have some thoughts on the airline I may be adopting tomorrow, hopefully. Happy March Eve!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Whose History?
In case you had forgotten, February is Black History Month. I have a couple friends on Facebook who are posting historical facts for each day, noting birth dates, death dates, bills passing, protests, etc. I am appreciating reading them and probably measuring myself by how familiar I am with the history they're revealing each day.
I believe that part of the anti-racism work white folks must do to bring reconciliation to the world involves becoming aware of the history of other people. I was thinking about that this morning, as I read those posts.
Here in the Heart of Dixie, and many other places, the primary racial dynamic in this country is still black/white. This is very frustrating for many people of hues somewhere in between. The number of brown people is growing, and they need a place in the dialogue. I recognize that.
And yet, I believe that because of our history of slavery, there is a special obligation to give attention to its impact on our society.
I was thinking about my conviction that it's important to know at least a little about other cultures' history and beliefs and values. It is. But the States is enveloping such a broad swath of histories these days, it would be a full-time job to keep track of it all. We should try nevertheless.
But for me, the month of February being Black History Month isn't really about learning someone else's history. It's about becoming more aware of the left-out portions of American history. Why would anyone want to be ignorant of the history of their own country? (Oh right, because ignorance is bliss.)
As more and more cultures continue to enrich our nation, learning "American" history will get even more complicated. But perhaps the first step is to learn the history we already have, the history that we've had since the beginning, though most of us have managed to ignore it for centuries.
Today, I am celebrating the birthday of Audre Lord. I'm not sure she made this up, but here is a quote I associate with her: "Silence is the voice of complicity."
I believe that part of the anti-racism work white folks must do to bring reconciliation to the world involves becoming aware of the history of other people. I was thinking about that this morning, as I read those posts.
Here in the Heart of Dixie, and many other places, the primary racial dynamic in this country is still black/white. This is very frustrating for many people of hues somewhere in between. The number of brown people is growing, and they need a place in the dialogue. I recognize that.
And yet, I believe that because of our history of slavery, there is a special obligation to give attention to its impact on our society.
I was thinking about my conviction that it's important to know at least a little about other cultures' history and beliefs and values. It is. But the States is enveloping such a broad swath of histories these days, it would be a full-time job to keep track of it all. We should try nevertheless.
But for me, the month of February being Black History Month isn't really about learning someone else's history. It's about becoming more aware of the left-out portions of American history. Why would anyone want to be ignorant of the history of their own country? (Oh right, because ignorance is bliss.)
As more and more cultures continue to enrich our nation, learning "American" history will get even more complicated. But perhaps the first step is to learn the history we already have, the history that we've had since the beginning, though most of us have managed to ignore it for centuries.
Today, I am celebrating the birthday of Audre Lord. I'm not sure she made this up, but here is a quote I associate with her: "Silence is the voice of complicity."
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
An Update
In case you've been worrying about a certain young boy...
A great-gramma had a very intentional talk with her grandson-in-law yesterday. She prayed before they began, which was a huge first for her.
Later that night, she talked on the phone with her great-grandson. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"I just got done playing a game with my dad," he replied.
Sometimes it's important to be brave. And it's always important to ask God's help, even if you're not sure how.
A great-gramma had a very intentional talk with her grandson-in-law yesterday. She prayed before they began, which was a huge first for her.
Later that night, she talked on the phone with her great-grandson. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"I just got done playing a game with my dad," he replied.
Sometimes it's important to be brave. And it's always important to ask God's help, even if you're not sure how.
Learning from Mistakes? Wow.
As a general rule, I will always believe there should be more regulation on things having to do with money. That's a general position, you understand, based on very little actual understanding of how money things work.
I just tend to assume that the people making the rules are good friends with the people who will have to follow them, so the likelihood that they'll be very onerous is slim. So, no, I never buy those arguments that free-market fundamentalists make implying that if you make it too complicated, capitalists will just give up and go do something else. Yeah, right.
I can understand how someone would be hesitant to allow me to make the decisions about how our banking system is regulated though, given how little actual knowledge I have about it. But what about people whose lives were immersed in it who have learned from their mistakes?
That's right, there are apparently some people - "the elders of Wall Street" the New York Times calls them - who are publically admitting they have learned from mistakes. Shocking, I know, but also the kind of person it makes sense to me to listen to.
And these "elders" evidently think that what Wall Street needs is more regulation. So you don't have to take my word for it; ask someone who would actually know. They want stronger rules than even the administration is proposing. Whatever is the world coming to?
I just tend to assume that the people making the rules are good friends with the people who will have to follow them, so the likelihood that they'll be very onerous is slim. So, no, I never buy those arguments that free-market fundamentalists make implying that if you make it too complicated, capitalists will just give up and go do something else. Yeah, right.
I can understand how someone would be hesitant to allow me to make the decisions about how our banking system is regulated though, given how little actual knowledge I have about it. But what about people whose lives were immersed in it who have learned from their mistakes?
That's right, there are apparently some people - "the elders of Wall Street" the New York Times calls them - who are publically admitting they have learned from mistakes. Shocking, I know, but also the kind of person it makes sense to me to listen to.
And these "elders" evidently think that what Wall Street needs is more regulation. So you don't have to take my word for it; ask someone who would actually know. They want stronger rules than even the administration is proposing. Whatever is the world coming to?
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Socialism Works!
Check this out! North Dakota has a state-owned bank, and people are beginning to wonder if it's helping the state weather the recession better than other places.
The history is fascinating. It was, in fact, brought into being by socialists, during their very brief take-over of state government in 1915. What's even more exciting is that other states are now jealous and beginning to wonder if they could imitate it.
Of course, here in the Heart of Dixie, we don't use outsiders' ideas, especially socialist outsiders, even if they work really, really well. But maybe some of the rest of you can benefit from this.
The history is fascinating. It was, in fact, brought into being by socialists, during their very brief take-over of state government in 1915. What's even more exciting is that other states are now jealous and beginning to wonder if they could imitate it.
Of course, here in the Heart of Dixie, we don't use outsiders' ideas, especially socialist outsiders, even if they work really, really well. But maybe some of the rest of you can benefit from this.
Effects of Global Climate Change on Humans
So there are probably still people who aren't convinced that humans accelerated the rate of global climate change. They're silly.
A more interesting question to me is: How will global climate change affect humans?
I ask this because it's been snowing in the Heart of Dixie some recently. Like last night for instance. I would never have known, except that I was at my community choir rehearsal, and during our break, someone looked outside and discovered there was a little white stuff blowing around in the air.
We got called back from break, sang for maybe another ten minutes, and then got dismissed early so we could get home safely. No kidding.
Now, mind you, it wasn't really even snowing. It was flurrying. Nothing was staying on the ground really, and it wasn't all that wet. I would have bet money that if we'd stayed the whole time, no one would have gotten into a weather-related accident on the way home. When I woke up in the middle of the night, there was a slight dusting on the top of my car, but it was gone when I got up this morning.
In the last few weeks, schools have cancelled class three times. Of those three, two were false alarms. Which is to say, they cancelled the night before, because of a threat of snow, rather than waiting till the next day when they might have discovered that there wasn't any snow. Except that even if they'd waited, they probably would have convinced themselves it would start blizzarding as soon as they got the kids to school. On the actual snow day, they probably had about 6 inches max, which probably would have been an issue, if mostly because people are so freaked by it. Roads were closed.
Now, I understand that making those calls is really hard, and they have all sorts of pressures to contend with. It is especially weird here because so many parents drive their kids to school, rather than them all coming on a school bus. (Whole other complicated issue for another day.)
But here's what I wonder: If this is a new trend, that is, if we start having multiple snow days each year, will their standards change? How many "snowy" winters will it take before municipal governments invest in the equipment to clear the roads? How many "snow" days will it take before people are accustomed enough that they stop letting a tiny bit of weather control their lives?
I have often wondered how the difference in climate affects the cultural differences between Southerners and Northerners. If climate change reduces the weather differences, perhaps we will have a way of measuring that.
A more interesting question to me is: How will global climate change affect humans?
I ask this because it's been snowing in the Heart of Dixie some recently. Like last night for instance. I would never have known, except that I was at my community choir rehearsal, and during our break, someone looked outside and discovered there was a little white stuff blowing around in the air.
We got called back from break, sang for maybe another ten minutes, and then got dismissed early so we could get home safely. No kidding.
Now, mind you, it wasn't really even snowing. It was flurrying. Nothing was staying on the ground really, and it wasn't all that wet. I would have bet money that if we'd stayed the whole time, no one would have gotten into a weather-related accident on the way home. When I woke up in the middle of the night, there was a slight dusting on the top of my car, but it was gone when I got up this morning.
In the last few weeks, schools have cancelled class three times. Of those three, two were false alarms. Which is to say, they cancelled the night before, because of a threat of snow, rather than waiting till the next day when they might have discovered that there wasn't any snow. Except that even if they'd waited, they probably would have convinced themselves it would start blizzarding as soon as they got the kids to school. On the actual snow day, they probably had about 6 inches max, which probably would have been an issue, if mostly because people are so freaked by it. Roads were closed.
Now, I understand that making those calls is really hard, and they have all sorts of pressures to contend with. It is especially weird here because so many parents drive their kids to school, rather than them all coming on a school bus. (Whole other complicated issue for another day.)
But here's what I wonder: If this is a new trend, that is, if we start having multiple snow days each year, will their standards change? How many "snowy" winters will it take before municipal governments invest in the equipment to clear the roads? How many "snow" days will it take before people are accustomed enough that they stop letting a tiny bit of weather control their lives?
I have often wondered how the difference in climate affects the cultural differences between Southerners and Northerners. If climate change reduces the weather differences, perhaps we will have a way of measuring that.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Biologically Determined Politics?
Nicholas Kristof has an interesting piece in the NYT about the different brain chemistry of conservatives and liberals. It would be interesting to know how hereditary it is, though I bet it will be a while before the scientists get to that question.
His conclusion? Maybe we can scare conservatives into embracing health care reform. I could live with that. Not having health care is scary.
His conclusion? Maybe we can scare conservatives into embracing health care reform. I could live with that. Not having health care is scary.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Let's Talk About Class, Baby -- Oh, except that would mean we have to talk about you and me and those people we prefer to forget about...
And I don't mean the kind that involves not smacking people who annoy you.
Bob Herbert has some strong and sobering words (and numbers) to share about the current economic crisis. Basically, he points out, the proper word to describe it (depression, recession, or worrying trend) depends on how much money you make. But you can't tell that from the way it's discussed.
"We talk about the recession as if all of its victims were suffering equally, and all will be helped by some bland, class-and-category-neutral solution," Herbert writes.
Perhaps it should be added that we tend to talk about everything this way here in the supposedly aristocracy-free (and therefore classless ?!?) society we enjoy.
Wealth is a comparative matter, as noted in a recent post about people who don't realize they're rich. But 30% unemployment, which is the reality for the lowest-income group in this country, is a recipe for disaster. That is, it is disaster for the people experiencing and it's a recipe for disaster for the rest of us. Chickens do eventually come home to roost.
Funny how wealthy people only get concerned about 'fair' when they're worried someone's going to get something they weren't offered. Class-blind solutions are not going to solve our real problems. Time to open our eyes.
Bob Herbert has some strong and sobering words (and numbers) to share about the current economic crisis. Basically, he points out, the proper word to describe it (depression, recession, or worrying trend) depends on how much money you make. But you can't tell that from the way it's discussed.
"We talk about the recession as if all of its victims were suffering equally, and all will be helped by some bland, class-and-category-neutral solution," Herbert writes.
Perhaps it should be added that we tend to talk about everything this way here in the supposedly aristocracy-free (and therefore classless ?!?) society we enjoy.
Wealth is a comparative matter, as noted in a recent post about people who don't realize they're rich. But 30% unemployment, which is the reality for the lowest-income group in this country, is a recipe for disaster. That is, it is disaster for the people experiencing and it's a recipe for disaster for the rest of us. Chickens do eventually come home to roost.
Funny how wealthy people only get concerned about 'fair' when they're worried someone's going to get something they weren't offered. Class-blind solutions are not going to solve our real problems. Time to open our eyes.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Serious Karaoke
It is true: In the Philippines, they take karaoke very seriously. They do it a lot. Often, it's more accurately called videoke, as there are videos playing along with the song.
But who knew it could become a context for murder? This recent article from the NYT, tells us about how no one in the Philippines will risk singing "My Way" anymore, because so many people have been killed for singing it, mostly for singing it badly.
There is a lot of weird stuff in that article. I tried to discern how much of it is based on stereotypes and generalizations, but it's hard to tell. Most of generalizations about Philippine society are made by Filipinos.
Very odd. But it does make me realize that I don't sing karaoke nearly often enough. I do have to wonder, though, if I've been in any of the karaoke bars mentioned in the article. I have very vivid memories of one, but I don't recall where it was.
But who knew it could become a context for murder? This recent article from the NYT, tells us about how no one in the Philippines will risk singing "My Way" anymore, because so many people have been killed for singing it, mostly for singing it badly.
There is a lot of weird stuff in that article. I tried to discern how much of it is based on stereotypes and generalizations, but it's hard to tell. Most of generalizations about Philippine society are made by Filipinos.
Very odd. But it does make me realize that I don't sing karaoke nearly often enough. I do have to wonder, though, if I've been in any of the karaoke bars mentioned in the article. I have very vivid memories of one, but I don't recall where it was.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
And Some Inspiration
This very marvelous piece about the lunch counter sit-ins of 1960, which recently had their 50th anniversary, ran in my hometown paper today. I really appreciated the writer's understanding of the history of activism, that it must look forward. And the parallels he draws between then and now are interesting.
Signs of Progress
Okay, so that last post was pretty heavy. And it's not true that everything is going to hell. Frank Rich points out a recent sign of a major shift toward a more open-minded society in this reflection on the (relative) silence from the right-wing in reaction to the recent move to get rid of "Don't Ask - Don't Tell".
"The arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice." ~ MLK Jr.
"The arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice." ~ MLK Jr.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Theology for an Era of Decline
I have had the suspicion for some years now that things are getting worse instead of better. At least by certain measures. By worse, I mostly mean that the U.S. will quite possibly not be the world's superpower before the end of my lifetime. And that the world will run out of oil. (There are many other ways in which life is getting better, mostly as measured by liberation movements around the world and rising literacy rates.)
Now, I don't actually have that much invested, psychically, in the U.S. being number one in the world. But I am also pretty sure that it will have countless effects on my day-to-day life and that of everyone I work with.
I am, after all, part of that generation that, for the first time ever in history, is supposed to be less well-off than our parents. This recent column by Bob Herbert talks about some why all this will be the case.
What's weird about this is that I don't usually consider myself a pessimist. I am an optimistic realist. I believe in these dire predictions about the state of our country and the world, and yet, I can be optimistic about them.
Why? Because human beings are resilient. So rather than being fearful about the future, I am curious.
How will we deal with the slow decline of our nation and its era in history? Will our faith help us? What would a constructive theology for an era of decline look like? How can we start creating it now, when so many are still so invested in denying the decline?
I've wondered what my generations of theologians would have to do to sustain faith through what will inevitably be a world-changing shift, akin the the demise of the Roman Empire. I fear that the world of faith trends is so pre-occupied with how technologies like twitter and webinars are affecting the media of faith that we're missing the real story we should be preparing for, the one that's really about content.
How do you prepare a people who are so used to being on top for being on the bottom, or even just in the middle? We have told people for years that their worth comes not from their bank account, but from their status as beloved children of God. But do they believe us? How convincing can we be when we're not entirely convinced ourselves?
How do you prepare a people to find ways to sustain societies and culture and community when resources become truly scarce, when their primary influences have told them to look out for number one. When the bottom line, even for clergy has been "you can't take care of others if you haven't first take care of yourself"?
Where will Christ be present in an age of decline? How can we know if we haven't even begun to ask the question.
Now, I don't actually have that much invested, psychically, in the U.S. being number one in the world. But I am also pretty sure that it will have countless effects on my day-to-day life and that of everyone I work with.
I am, after all, part of that generation that, for the first time ever in history, is supposed to be less well-off than our parents. This recent column by Bob Herbert talks about some why all this will be the case.
What's weird about this is that I don't usually consider myself a pessimist. I am an optimistic realist. I believe in these dire predictions about the state of our country and the world, and yet, I can be optimistic about them.
Why? Because human beings are resilient. So rather than being fearful about the future, I am curious.
How will we deal with the slow decline of our nation and its era in history? Will our faith help us? What would a constructive theology for an era of decline look like? How can we start creating it now, when so many are still so invested in denying the decline?
I've wondered what my generations of theologians would have to do to sustain faith through what will inevitably be a world-changing shift, akin the the demise of the Roman Empire. I fear that the world of faith trends is so pre-occupied with how technologies like twitter and webinars are affecting the media of faith that we're missing the real story we should be preparing for, the one that's really about content.
How do you prepare a people who are so used to being on top for being on the bottom, or even just in the middle? We have told people for years that their worth comes not from their bank account, but from their status as beloved children of God. But do they believe us? How convincing can we be when we're not entirely convinced ourselves?
How do you prepare a people to find ways to sustain societies and culture and community when resources become truly scarce, when their primary influences have told them to look out for number one. When the bottom line, even for clergy has been "you can't take care of others if you haven't first take care of yourself"?
Where will Christ be present in an age of decline? How can we know if we haven't even begun to ask the question.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Memo to Rich People
It's not often that the mainstream media offers a sense of perspective to those who really need it, but Slate pulls it off in this piece about how people making over $250,000 are, in fact, rich, pretty much anywhere they live.
Speaking truth to power is especially important with rich people, because they're not very good listeners.
Speaking truth to power is especially important with rich people, because they're not very good listeners.
This Week's Devotional Message
Isaiah 55:10-13 – For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it. For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the fields shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall be to the LORD for a memorial, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off. (NRSV)
The way we understand our faith and the way we understand the world are strongly influenced by the way we see God. Who is God for you? How was your vision of God formed? Some people go through life wracked by guilt and fear, because they were taught as young children that God was an angry score-keeper, just waiting up in heaven for them to mess up.
Some people go through horrible trauma before they’ve had a chance to form a healthy understanding of God and end up thinking of God as a callous, capricious ghost who toys with humanity like a kitten with a helpless baby bird. You could find support for both of these portraits in scripture if you wanted to. And you can imagine how people convinced of such ideas might interact with the world.
But neither of those caricatures describes the God I know. Instead, I see God’s true nature revealed in these verses from Isaiah 55. God does not wish punishment upon us, or suffering, or meaninglessness. God wants us to have eternal joy and peace. God wants us to have daily bread. And not just us, for these words were not sent to me in a sealed, confidential envelope; God wants these gifts for all people. And God’s Spirit is alive and moving in the world, pouring out grace, just as the rain waters the earth, not just because, but with a transformative, nourishing purpose. That is the God I know through Jesus Christ, and I view all scriptural images of God through the lens of that truth.
How does such a conviction affect the way we live our lives? How does it help us deal with the day-to-day hassles that arise in our lives, or respond to the tragic suffering of something like the Haitian earthquake? How does it shape how we teach our children about God? Our beliefs about God matter, because through our behavior, they create the world we live in.
Collect for the Week: God of Eternal Compassion, who sends rain and sun to all your children to nourish us and give us life, grant that your grace and love might take hold in our hearts, that we might indeed be living witnesses to your joy and peace. Through Christ Jesus and the Holy Spirit, Amen.
The way we understand our faith and the way we understand the world are strongly influenced by the way we see God. Who is God for you? How was your vision of God formed? Some people go through life wracked by guilt and fear, because they were taught as young children that God was an angry score-keeper, just waiting up in heaven for them to mess up.
Some people go through horrible trauma before they’ve had a chance to form a healthy understanding of God and end up thinking of God as a callous, capricious ghost who toys with humanity like a kitten with a helpless baby bird. You could find support for both of these portraits in scripture if you wanted to. And you can imagine how people convinced of such ideas might interact with the world.
But neither of those caricatures describes the God I know. Instead, I see God’s true nature revealed in these verses from Isaiah 55. God does not wish punishment upon us, or suffering, or meaninglessness. God wants us to have eternal joy and peace. God wants us to have daily bread. And not just us, for these words were not sent to me in a sealed, confidential envelope; God wants these gifts for all people. And God’s Spirit is alive and moving in the world, pouring out grace, just as the rain waters the earth, not just because, but with a transformative, nourishing purpose. That is the God I know through Jesus Christ, and I view all scriptural images of God through the lens of that truth.
How does such a conviction affect the way we live our lives? How does it help us deal with the day-to-day hassles that arise in our lives, or respond to the tragic suffering of something like the Haitian earthquake? How does it shape how we teach our children about God? Our beliefs about God matter, because through our behavior, they create the world we live in.
Collect for the Week: God of Eternal Compassion, who sends rain and sun to all your children to nourish us and give us life, grant that your grace and love might take hold in our hearts, that we might indeed be living witnesses to your joy and peace. Through Christ Jesus and the Holy Spirit, Amen.
If Fear is the Opposite of Love, then Jealousy is Often Its Expression
There is a young boy. Maybe he's 10; maybe he's 12. He used to be six and four. He never knew his biological father, but he does have a dad, an adoptive step-dad.
But what is a dad, really? The young boy is told he isn't smart, that he's stupid and a retard. When his grades improve, he's told he doesn't have common sense, so he's still stupid and a retard.
The young boy is never allowed to explain his side of things when something comes up that is likely to get him in trouble. And he's never allowed to cry.
He has two younger brothers, who are the children of his mother and his step-dad. They mimic the father and call him the same names, without reprimand. They get to go in his room to do whatever they want. They are encouraged where he is ignored, ridiculed and punished.
The young boy has one person in his life that he can talk to, his great-gramma. Everything I know about him, I know through her, so who knows if his situation is really so dire? But why would a granny make such things up? What will happen when she's gone?
I would like to offer that my husband and I could take a more active role in the young boy's life, but I'm not sure that would work.
Is it something about the child not being "his" that makes this father behave this way? Is there an unsettledness, a sense that there was something before him, that has festered into this passive and not so passive aggression?
I do believe that fear is the opposite of love. And jealousy is rooted in fear. Parents are cruel to children when they are threatened by them. Of course, as you say, there is no sensible reason for a parent to be threatened by a child. But sometimes it happens.
If the child had other adults "on his side" it could make it even worse, since the threat would then become about who is influencing the child. Though it might be worth it. But again, what happens when we're gone?
The young boy has told his granny that his father doesn't love him. Many children, no doubt, say such things, but most of them don't mean it. It is not right that such a young boy should have to have figured this out so early. I wish that he could see his life from the perspective he might have 20 years from now. "My dad didn't love me, but I survived anyway." You see all the time, in Dear Abby, people who have come through such slow trauma and broken free and eventually thrived. But how can he know that now?
The world is broken. There are children with no food, no water, no school. But there are also children who have all those things, but not the love they need to thrive. At least not from the places they most need it.
Let us pray for all the children of the world.
But what is a dad, really? The young boy is told he isn't smart, that he's stupid and a retard. When his grades improve, he's told he doesn't have common sense, so he's still stupid and a retard.
The young boy is never allowed to explain his side of things when something comes up that is likely to get him in trouble. And he's never allowed to cry.
He has two younger brothers, who are the children of his mother and his step-dad. They mimic the father and call him the same names, without reprimand. They get to go in his room to do whatever they want. They are encouraged where he is ignored, ridiculed and punished.
The young boy has one person in his life that he can talk to, his great-gramma. Everything I know about him, I know through her, so who knows if his situation is really so dire? But why would a granny make such things up? What will happen when she's gone?
I would like to offer that my husband and I could take a more active role in the young boy's life, but I'm not sure that would work.
Is it something about the child not being "his" that makes this father behave this way? Is there an unsettledness, a sense that there was something before him, that has festered into this passive and not so passive aggression?
I do believe that fear is the opposite of love. And jealousy is rooted in fear. Parents are cruel to children when they are threatened by them. Of course, as you say, there is no sensible reason for a parent to be threatened by a child. But sometimes it happens.
If the child had other adults "on his side" it could make it even worse, since the threat would then become about who is influencing the child. Though it might be worth it. But again, what happens when we're gone?
The young boy has told his granny that his father doesn't love him. Many children, no doubt, say such things, but most of them don't mean it. It is not right that such a young boy should have to have figured this out so early. I wish that he could see his life from the perspective he might have 20 years from now. "My dad didn't love me, but I survived anyway." You see all the time, in Dear Abby, people who have come through such slow trauma and broken free and eventually thrived. But how can he know that now?
The world is broken. There are children with no food, no water, no school. But there are also children who have all those things, but not the love they need to thrive. At least not from the places they most need it.
Let us pray for all the children of the world.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Visions of Old Age
One of the things about being a pastor is that you get to deal with a lot of old people. I suppose there are other careers in which people deal with old people, but in the medical field, the relationships are more lop-sided. That is, the relationship is more about "I'm young and healthy and here to take care of you in your infirmity."
In ministry, relationships with old people are more likely to be about working together. In some churches, the pastor even ends up in a position of needing help from the old people, who frequently hold the reins of power in congregations.
All of which is to say, I've had plenty of opportunity to work with old people aging. And one of the things it makes me realize most often is that I'm (hopefully) going to age too. And it might suck.
There is a older woman in my congregation who used to be in charge of everything. Well, maybe not everything, but everything important. And she was on top of it all. She is a detail person, accustomed to understanding the intricacies of complicated situations and remembering the comments that were made the last time such-and-such was discussed.
And what's sad is that now that she's older (she's actually become home-bound in the last couple years), she still assumes, as any of us would, that she is the same person, but in truth, she doesn't have the same hold on the details of life that she used to. It's very frustrating for her, I think. I get the sense that it seems for her like the world is just being more inconsistent and illogical and dishonest, when things don't turn out the way she's expecting because she actually is mis-remembering what was supposed to happen.
I can totally see that happening to me. And actually, I can imagine making the choice to just find the world annoying rather than admit that you aren't who you used to be. I hope that one of the things I'm learning by working with older people at a young age is how to age graciously. But does anyone really want to do that? How does that poem go? "Rage, rage, against the dying of the light"?
In ministry, relationships with old people are more likely to be about working together. In some churches, the pastor even ends up in a position of needing help from the old people, who frequently hold the reins of power in congregations.
All of which is to say, I've had plenty of opportunity to work with old people aging. And one of the things it makes me realize most often is that I'm (hopefully) going to age too. And it might suck.
There is a older woman in my congregation who used to be in charge of everything. Well, maybe not everything, but everything important. And she was on top of it all. She is a detail person, accustomed to understanding the intricacies of complicated situations and remembering the comments that were made the last time such-and-such was discussed.
And what's sad is that now that she's older (she's actually become home-bound in the last couple years), she still assumes, as any of us would, that she is the same person, but in truth, she doesn't have the same hold on the details of life that she used to. It's very frustrating for her, I think. I get the sense that it seems for her like the world is just being more inconsistent and illogical and dishonest, when things don't turn out the way she's expecting because she actually is mis-remembering what was supposed to happen.
I can totally see that happening to me. And actually, I can imagine making the choice to just find the world annoying rather than admit that you aren't who you used to be. I hope that one of the things I'm learning by working with older people at a young age is how to age graciously. But does anyone really want to do that? How does that poem go? "Rage, rage, against the dying of the light"?
Sometimes I Wonder If We're Just Lazier Than We Used to Be
Frank Rich has a recent column in the NYT called "The State of the Union is Comatose." He's looking for leadership.
One interesting paragraph offers this: "The historian Alan Brinkley has observed that we will soon enter the fourth decade in which Congress — and therefore government as a whole — has failed to deal with any major national problem, from infrastructure to education."
In other words, government has mostly done nothing most of my life. Which means there are at least two generations now who aren't expecting much. How will we know to demand more?
One interesting paragraph offers this: "The historian Alan Brinkley has observed that we will soon enter the fourth decade in which Congress — and therefore government as a whole — has failed to deal with any major national problem, from infrastructure to education."
In other words, government has mostly done nothing most of my life. Which means there are at least two generations now who aren't expecting much. How will we know to demand more?
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Some of Us Like Being Federalized!
So new numbers are out about teen-age birth rates. And the New York Times' token conservative is, unsurprisingly, the one to respond. Ross Douthat (or should it be Don'tdouthat?) points out that there isn't actually much evidence that sex education classes, whether abstinence-only or otherwise, have much effect on whether kids have (safe or not) sex.
I can totally believe that. It's important for kids to understand the plumbing and the mechanics, but I'm fairly certain the vast majority of teenage pregnancies do not happen because girls are so naive that they let him "do everything but kiss me, since Mother and Daddy said never to let a boy kiss me." (I swear I read about a case like that in Dear Abby once though.)
I believe that Douthat is probably onto something when he says that there are much better ways to keep kids from having kids. They're probably things that would be even more widely beneficial too.
But I strongly disagree with the rest of his point. Douthat says that sex ed funds should have their strings cut; they should be available but how they're used should be based on local standards.
He says we should just avoid the conflict, the culture war "between parents in Berkeley, say, who don’t want their kids being taught that premarital intercourse is something to feel ashamed about and parents in Alabama who don’t want their kids being lectured about the health benefits of masturbation."
He thinks we should not "try to encourage Berkeley values in Alabama, or vice versa."
Except here's the thing: one of the things the federal government is good for is protecting minority populations in certain sections of the country where they don't have much political power. We know a little something about this here in the Heart of Dixie, don't we?
I know plenty of parents here in my blood red state who would like their kids to get the full monty when it comes to sex ed, whether other people like the idea or not. Who speaks for them? Who serves their interests?
I have written before about the notion of states' rights becoming obsolete. Douthat doesn't seem to agree. Perhaps he needs to stop depending on generalities so much. You'd think a conservative working at the NYT would know better!
I can totally believe that. It's important for kids to understand the plumbing and the mechanics, but I'm fairly certain the vast majority of teenage pregnancies do not happen because girls are so naive that they let him "do everything but kiss me, since Mother and Daddy said never to let a boy kiss me." (I swear I read about a case like that in Dear Abby once though.)
I believe that Douthat is probably onto something when he says that there are much better ways to keep kids from having kids. They're probably things that would be even more widely beneficial too.
But I strongly disagree with the rest of his point. Douthat says that sex ed funds should have their strings cut; they should be available but how they're used should be based on local standards.
He says we should just avoid the conflict, the culture war "between parents in Berkeley, say, who don’t want their kids being taught that premarital intercourse is something to feel ashamed about and parents in Alabama who don’t want their kids being lectured about the health benefits of masturbation."
He thinks we should not "try to encourage Berkeley values in Alabama, or vice versa."
Except here's the thing: one of the things the federal government is good for is protecting minority populations in certain sections of the country where they don't have much political power. We know a little something about this here in the Heart of Dixie, don't we?
I know plenty of parents here in my blood red state who would like their kids to get the full monty when it comes to sex ed, whether other people like the idea or not. Who speaks for them? Who serves their interests?
I have written before about the notion of states' rights becoming obsolete. Douthat doesn't seem to agree. Perhaps he needs to stop depending on generalities so much. You'd think a conservative working at the NYT would know better!
Happy...
Groundhog Day? Is that why I've come out of my recent hibernation?
Of course not!
Today is Tommy Smothers's 73rd birthday!
Nevermind the rodent. Go play with a yo-yo!
(And I do apologize for the recent dormancy. I've been uber busy and just haven't had the brain space to write. I've still been thinking some thoughts, and will, hopefully, one day soon get the inspiration to write them down.)
Of course not!
Today is Tommy Smothers's 73rd birthday!
Nevermind the rodent. Go play with a yo-yo!
(And I do apologize for the recent dormancy. I've been uber busy and just haven't had the brain space to write. I've still been thinking some thoughts, and will, hopefully, one day soon get the inspiration to write them down.)
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