N L Kyle Online

With the Lord

2008-08-01T22:55:00.000-07:00

July 30, 1922 - July 7, 2008

ECCLESIASTICAL FOOD FOR THOUGHT

2007-05-17T09:11:00.001-07:00

Reading labels, as advised, I see that most packaged foods begin a list with the word "NUTRITION", which is at the very least a misnomer; thereunder the "nutritious" elements appear to consist of those three favorite food groups salt, fat and sugar. I am amazed, as I look for foods to include in a diet, how many packaged and allegedly edible foods consist primarily of these same ingredients. But speaking of diet, I awoke this AM to an overwhelming sense of the stultifying existential ennui of those repetitive, everyday tasks--activities of daily living--in other words, I feel "fed up" with my life to date. The matters of washing and cleaning and buttoning buttons, tying laces, preparing meals and putting everything in the places where they presumably belong seemed Alpine and, on this day, repugnant.

An obvious alternative is not to do them at all, though even I could see the consequences would be disasterous in a very short while. The next thought was to hire someone else to do them, and the thought was exhilirating for the moment--a rapidly vanishing moment at that, as I reviewed the actual procedures. I could see myself following each bit of daily chore with questions about the care and accuracy of its execution. In other words, I was already micro-managinging everything I wished to avoid; to solve the problem I obviously needed to avoid my own obsessive attitudes. But how does all of this apply to food and diet?

Here we might be reminded of the three youths from Judah, Shadrack, Meshach and Abednego in the Book of Daniel. Rejecting fats, sugar and salt they subsisted very well on fresh fruits and vegetables as might we all. Of course they did this with the Lord's help, also as might we all--and far better than those of the current dietary ethos. But who else has seen our daily living as such a thankless and wearisome journey? Solomon the Wise,if he is indeed the author, that's who!

In Ecclesiastes there are echos of my despair: "The thing that has been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done; and there is no new thing under the sun." 1:9. ""I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.(1:14). " That which is crooked cannot be made straight; and that which is wanting cannot be numbered (1:15). But could not one strive for self-improvement? "And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly; I percieved that this also is vexation of spirit (1:17). "For in much wisdom is much grief;and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow (1:18). "Therefore I hated life; because the work that is wrought under the sun is grgrievous to me; for all is vanity and vexation of spirit" (2:17).

Remember however, that even the Devil may quote Scripture out of context to suit his own ends; I hope I am not doing that too. It is also written therein several times, "Behold that which I have seen; it is good and comely for one to eat and drink, and to enjoy the good of all his labour that he taketh under the sun all the days of his life, which God giveth him; for it is his portion" (5:18). It is declared that "This is the gift of God", and added further, "For he shall not much remember the days if his life; because God answereth him in the joy of his heart" (5:20)

With that we have come full circle and It is clear that I should have consulted The Word to begin with, is it not written too--first seek ye the kingdom of God?

A NEW DAY

2006-12-25T13:07:00.000-08:00

It will soon be the first day of the New Year and of all the rest of our lives. What have we carried forward from past days, and years? It has been said that an economist is a man who knows a great deal about very little, and who goes along knowing more and more about less and less, until finally he knows practically everything about nothing. So it seems with me, and so it probably is with many others--if we expect to become any wiser. Those who have attained a majority of years might try it for themselves. Think back to ages eighteen or twenty—recall how wise and knowing we were then. I would like to be so smart once again, if only for an hour. That is of course about as long as such wisdom can bear the light of this day. If the truth be told, we learn more and more of how much we do not know, if we learn anything. How wise then, are the ones who finally recognize how little they know after all; and possibly also how relieved. (A case in point might be our nation’s long-standing, revered economist Alan Greenspan who unburdened himself of his great responsibilities; beyond a couple of cautionary words he demonstrated admirable brevity in recommending very little for the future--clearly a wiser chairman).

Here it is another New Year and we have been facing the elements as never before; prior learning is not always immediately sufficient to this unprecedented onslaught of air, earth, fire and water. Winds and floods, snows, mud-slides and flames rage out of control as never before. We must learn new ways to cope, but where does one look for knowledge we have not yet learned? Here I am reminded of a line spoken by Reb Tevye when asked just how his ancient customs and traditions of Judaism came to be the way they are. With wonder and almost joyfulness in his voice he replies, “Well, I’ll tell you, I don’t know”! This simple and ordinary man was expressing his wonder and glory for God, who already knows what is unfolding—and how inadequate our own understanding is beside it. He was evidently impressed that God’s greatness is regularly proven by how far short we mortals are of such reasoning. For wisdom we might do well to heed Matthew 6:33 wherein he says “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness”. All else will follow.

CHRISTMAS AND “NEW JOY”

2006-12-16T15:33:00.000-08:00

It reminds me of something I had written before, something along these lines: “Christmas is a-coming and the goose is getting fat, please to put a penny in the old man’s hat. If you haven’t got a penny then a hape/ny will do—and if you haven’t got a hape’ny, then God Bless you.” Of course I did not write that part, it is from an old English nursery rhyme, but I did feel that there is nothing like the Christmas tradition to plunge older folks into second childhoods. Even as we are reminded, from our consciences and church meetings that the real meaning of Christmas is something else, something far more important than tinsel and colored lights,, there remains that flutter and tingle at the sight of bright packages and holiday food.

Counting out the days to the Eve of Christmas still arouses a half-forgotten anticipation—meaning that sometimes you wiggle and smile in spite of yourself. There’s all the delightful secrets that make you laugh out loud when you think of them, or itch with curiosity. The parties and the visits with friends and relatives only add to the growing crescendo, each one drawing the Holy Night nearer and nearer.

The point is, I think that here, quite unlike anywhere else, one can anticipate joy, and as the fine writer Henri Nouwen said, “Joy is always new. There is a lot of old sadness, but there is never old joy. Joy is always a surprise, and that’s ecstasy.” (from Radix Vol.15:6).

PUNISHMENT AND REWARDS

2006-12-08T15:28:00.000-08:00

These are the results of doing right or doing wrong; they are administered by others, judgmentally or otherwise. They include parents, teachers, bosses, marital partners, social groups, peers and even our children. They can all make us aware of our successes or failures, great or small. In the nineteen fifties the school of behavioral therapy and operant conditioning came into prominence, and most of us have never been quite the same since.

We have learned to call these things positive or negative reinforcement, more politically if not socially correct. This is still reward or punish, and may hurt or please the recipients. We now are able to train and modify (This is sometimes called behavior modification) the behavior of animals, most children, and adults with behavioral disorders, as never before. Practitioners need to be trained and licensed, however, and may often (and most probably should) draw the line at some requests for their skills.

So much for the didactic stuff; other “people” may do these things to us but “Life” does not. It has been observed that in life there are no rewards or punishment, only “experience” as the teaching medium. Learning from experience is essential to continued well-being and success, but the latter is still up to us. Rewards may or may not follow; results are always in the eye of the beholder.

THE LAST OR FINAL HOUR

2006-12-02T21:00:00.000-08:00

This need not be morbid unless one makes it that way; it comes in the midst of life--and to all of us at some unspecified time. From warm seaside days, lazed away so carelessly, emerges another view of our endless ritual. There are people out on the shore of a late November afternoon, out in the ebbing sunlight, clinging to the fading light of shorter days—end of suntanned bodies, end of a season—each passing golden moment dies so quickly, each new one follows, dying in its train. These cherished moments are like departed loves—they will reappear only as dim memories—perhaps as dried, dusty and faintly aromatic rose petals in a keepsake box. This summer dies away and next year’s distant summer will be an altogether different one. What is now passing away—lost and gone, represents the whole ponderous weight of earth-time, a giant clock somewhere ticking out its lostness. Often easily foretold, here is a chosen hour—of mourning, of loss and separation—and regret. Perhaps this sense of mournful loss is closest to the picture of last moments we are most familiar with; so far as anyone knows it is not our own that we experience, it is always someone else’s. Unfamiliar dark and polished furniture, scent of fading cut flowers with muted organ music and muted voices—the humid hush of “a fine funeral”; “Death comes rubbing white-gloved hands, and smiling” (T. S. Eliot). All in Sunday clothes, the strangeness, coldness and stiffness of the designated “mourners” seem to mirror that of the “Dearly Departed” now occupying center stage. What is celebrated as an “Event” has probably been building up for years, and will now go on forever. From a study of Scriptures this is part of our eternity; how that will be played out is in our own hands—and God’s.

It must be said that He can deal with these things much better than we can all alone; last moments are often problematic. But some one has already asked, “How would anything ever get done here on earth if it were not for last minute dead-lines?”

RUMINATIONS

2006-11-26T16:52:00.000-08:00

And what about? I found that I was mutely seeking some happy medium between cowardice and bravado. It all started when it was clear to me that all the things I needed to accomplish seemed too difficult or too perilous. The next thought was a picture of self-fulfilling prophesies—fear leading to a sense of defeat before the fact. I then decided that actually there were many problems, hazardous and otherwise, safely overcome during my checkered past; quickly switching positions the attitude became one of fearlessness in the face of any difficulty or danger that might crop up.

The dilemma here was that I could immediately see either position as largely untenable over time, almost any time span--like the next ten minutes! Some vague point midway between the two extremes now only seemed to leave me open to both possibilities in unpredictable sequence. It was clear that if I had any nemesis in my life it was me! I could manage to set myself up for defeat just by striking an attitude.

Just then it occurred to me to ask where the Lord was in all of this. It is most probable that no one does worthwhile things entirely alone, but between the Lord and I anything is doable and surmountable. I finally realized my nemesis of self-defeat and self-damage need not dog my foot steps any longer, thank God.

HEROICS

2006-11-16T17:41:00.000-08:00

Some viewpoints are probably shared by most of us: There is a tradition in the annals of human affairs to select our heroes by their popularity, some more deserved than others. Tradition also has it that there are “conquering” heroes, like the Alexander’s and other military figures of note, or “suffering” heroes such as Mahatma Gandhi, who won his non-violent stature after a world renowned hunger strike. Places in history, once established, are usually secure for all time; the degree of their adulation often depends upon the balance of Hawks and Doves amongst us. But there are the silent and “unsung” ones too.

Many know the other kind, those “quiet” ordinary folks, our firefighters and police-forces living work-a-day stints, and some of the returning wounded from wars in other lands, who go on to live ordinary lives, like my uncles managed to do after WWI. Many more such heroes followed the Second World War and the other wars still going on. They are men and women who saw their families struggle with hunger and want through the great depression, like my father who silently walked up and down behind our “Auto Camp” one night, pulling his own aching teeth. Who among us has not seen the elderly battle-scarred survivors of illness and injury wordlessly living night after dark night, feeling the harbingers of all the ailments known to medical science flowing over, around and through them, knowing one such probably has their name on it.

If there is any point here it is that if you know them, you might celebrate them; let them see that the parades, the confetti and the blaring music is also for them. Chances are, however, they will mostly deny everything and avoid their places on the podium of fame.

TRAVELING THROUGH

2006-11-11T13:04:00.000-08:00

Some may not like the reasoning here, but journeys through life’s ups and downs, ins and outs, sorrows and joys, and adventures good or bad may take a lot of different modes of transport; call them instinctual drives, motivation, inspiration, threats or fears—planes, trains buses, cars, tanks or ox-carts. Who is doing the driving? At the risk of being merely pedantic, it would seem that the passenger usually just goes along for the ride.

So where is the thrill of being in control of ones fate, of blazing the trail, of first discovery, of losing and finding the way again? The latent “Wagon-train Scout” in most of us rebels at riding inside the Conestoga rig. The same question can be asked a little differently, however: What in us is doing the driving? Those gifted in the practice of honest introspection will often find emotion mostly to be the spur to our motion through life.

Wisdom may here seem like a kill-joy, but it says that when only “feelings” are in the driver’s seat the destination is most likely self defeat, damage or destruction. Emotions are very vital and important in our existence but must not be in charge of it. What is left to us then? The uncommon common sense, past experience and moral and spiritual values that God gave us to counter our rages, fears, and pleasure-bent impulses, and that is all—but that is quite enough. In short, we may enjoy all the best of life available to us—but not blindly.

MORNING STAR REVISITED

2006-11-04T17:14:00.000-08:00

Awestruck and bowled over by seeing my words posted last Sunday, I thought of words someone else had written on a similar subject—as my memory has it after many years. It seems there were some poor children living out in the farmlands of Chile who heard there was a special way to look at the morning star. The object was to “catch it”, so to speak, or at least its reflection, in the water; searching up in the sky had, as some of them knew, often only led to losing one’s balance in the dark.

The small band of children all arose in the early darkness and, shivering in the cold air, surrounded a muddy puddle left by the rain. And Lo! The bright morning star appeared in the water. The children were entranced and joining hands they danced and sang around its reflection. As they looked into the puddle they saw God looking back up at them and smiling.

I tend to believe the story, mostly because it was told, in the original Spanish, by the only women Poet Laureate in South America, Gabriela Mistral, who loved God and children, and loved the way the morning star shines in Southern skies.

Morning Star

2006-11-03T21:35:00.000-08:00

For one thing, as I start to write it crosses my mind that I am sometimes not a morning person, but giving it more thought the association that seems to stick is “morning light”. Every day, or almost every day, it is the way the morning looks from my window that impresses as I press on with the rest of that day. Even given the seasonal changes it is clear that there are many variations in early morning light that may set the stage for life ongoing; one might be fairly heartened. For example, by a warm and bright cast to an otherwise wintry sky.

But that is not all of it, in whatever colors the dawn may cast its lights ahead I do know of an earlier light: the morning star—“And we have the word of the prophets made more certain, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises n your hearts.” (2 Peter, 1:19). The day that is to dawn goes well beyond your everyday expectations; evidently, however, it is important to be aware every morning, of what mere men spoke from the will of God “..as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit”. We might pray the Holy Spirit to carry us along through each morning and day and night as well—every morning we awake.

THE BETTER AND THE BEST WORLDS

2006-10-27T09:20:00.000-07:00

An early pioneer to the field of world order, or world disorder, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz captivated the 17th and 18th century world, at least those Americans and Europeans of philosophical bent, with his notions of “The Best of All Possible Worlds”. Leibniz was intent on explaining evil as the source of good effects; courage, for example, is the God-given result of having to face bad things. As several natural disasters, floods, earthquakes or plagues took over public attention his work fell out of favor. Insisting on emphasizing all evils, Leibniz may have lost his audience by not really covering the better, and certainly not the best, aspects of our world as others might see it.

But that is an unwieldy task all by itself; no matter how many so-called “better things” have come along, faster automobiles, self-cleaning ovens, democratic governments, easier travel and daily living conditions, with labor saving devices that may take up more time than the labor, computers, high speed jet planes, cell phones showing full-length movies on a screen less than the size of a Fig-Newton--which also takes pictures of our ears, and increased social tolerance for things not tolerated since time began, there always seems to be something “better” coming down the pike. And even when that is not immediately evident people continue to ask for, and even demand, better things from life. This apparent inability of ours for ever being satisfied would seem to leave the whole idea of a “best” of all possible worlds completely out of the picture.

Yet not being satisfied with life on earth may represent the purest evidence of spiritual growth and biblical reality. Keep in mind that at the rate we are going it looks more and more like we will never be content with the planet as we find it; many problems get solved only to beget new ones. Your average teen-ager, in fact, can find on any given school day, enough difficulties with his or her life, if not to keep parents remodeling their world, at least worried about it; at this rate it appears anyone’s “better” world will never result in the Best of All Possible Worlds.

On the other hand there is little in Scriptural terms speaking against trying to improve our environment, especially the social part. There may be some verses against feathering our own nest or piling up wealth at the expense of poor folks, but even in the parts of the OT devoted to “obedience”, note; “The Lord shall increase you more and more, you and your children.” (Psalms 115:14): and “Houses and riches are the inheritance of fathers; and a prudent wife is from the Lord.”(Proverbs 19:14). The NT carries on as Christ does; “But when he saw the multitudes he was moved with compassion for them, because they fainted, and were scattered abroad, as sheep having no Shepard. Then he saith unto his disciples, The harvest truly is plenteous. But the labourers are few: Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he send forth labourers into his harvest.” (Matthew 4:19).

The very fact that people can sense deep within themselves the desire for that better world, that continued ancient myth of Shangri-La that is never quite discovered outside an old 30s movie, (Lost Horizons, 1937), suggests that we know something intuitively that has so far consciously eluded many of us! But some have heard a constant voice that continues to beckon: “I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God.” (Revelation 21:3). And above all: “…it is written, Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things that God hath prepared for them that love him. But God hath revealed them to us by his Spirit; for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God.” (I Corinthians 2:9, 10). We can assume, therefore, that better worlds may come and go but the very “Best Possible World” awaits those whose love and devotion is shared with Christ Jesus.

A SAILOR'S LIFE

2006-10-23T17:44:00.000-07:00

My present home is on a rather barren corner close to the broad Pacific Ocean, confronting a coastal beach unsheltered by trees or structures—only sand and sea all the way to the southernmost islands—and New Zealand and Japan beyond. Because of this location I live from day-to-day like a sailor of old, perhaps a galley master or a proa skipper, with wind, waves and stars as my compass. A certain amount of skill and alertness is required in order to deal with changing wind and sunlight; air-conditioning is only for landlubbers but here there are sails and rigging ready to hand...

When the weather is warm, at first bell all Easterly blinds must be drawn against the early sun’s heat and blinding light, and all southern windows brought wide open to admit any winds from the sea, (along with opening the northern door, my only door), or else the heat could become unbearable later in the day. In that case, of course, I could turn on overhead fans, but such artificial air would probably cast a blight on seafaring tradition. In the balmy afternoons some eastern blinds are opened and windows partially closed against the cooler off-shore winds from the south. As the sun sinks low they die down and windows are again opened; here on the shore nights can be colder after midnight, and my small bark is mostly all battened down. At first dawn the routine is repeated as before. In winter, conversely, eastern blinds are opened wide to catch stray heat and light, but hatches—er, windows, are tightly closed. In these climes there occurs a condition called Santa Ana Winds and for this mariner that constitutes the “doldrums” when no air current moves and the heavy, sultry atmosphere is stifling. Thus my little boat sails through each day making port only at night—I have not yet learned, like old Samoans, the secrets of sailing by starlight--stellar navigation.

Thus it can be seen that living here is a rough and manly job, but even through the more perilous seas the words of Paul in I Timothy’ 1:10 ring clear, “Timothy my son, I give you this instruction in keeping with the prophecies once made about you, so that by following them you may fight the good fight, holding onto faith and a good conscience. Some have rejected these and so have shipwrecked their faith.” And Paul was no stranger to shipwreck, having survived perilous sea voyages himself; learn from the older experienced hands, I always say, and so far my small craft has never been wrecked in the waves.

DEATH SANS PATHOS

2006-10-20T21:36:00.000-07:00

Having gone more or less through a fascination with death and dying some twenty or thirty years ago the subject is seen today in a very different light. In those days there was an upsurge of such works in the literature, especially in sociological and psychological annals, and there are several volumes that once were devoured avidly, but remain dust-bound on my shelves these days. I wrote a little myself, attended workshops of the currently famous authorities on the subject and even wove them into my clinical orientation. But it seems to me, like so many other faddish issues, even thinking about the topic with its stages of loss and separation, have simply withered away both in the literature and in thought.

For that reason I was surprised to note that at this more advanced stage of my life the subject began to enter into idle musings without its classic grimness of feelings. That lack of mourning or odor of “Shakespearean tragedy” is what impressed me most. Indeed it is not unusual, especially in later years, to contemplate and even privately, at least, anguish about ones death or the death of significant others. There is no surprise about such ordinary phenomena; what is surprising to me is that anticipations about ones own death can so often be unaccompanied by commonly associated fear, dread or expectation of radical change. At the same time I am well aware of the tradition common with Christians, (among which I hopefully count myself), that fear of impending death should be conquered and overcome in anticipation of a better life ahead. Even so there are times when all of us, in spite of our faith, can get into an occasional modest frenzy about the process of our own death, its probable course, our conscious fears about pain, lostness, and the often recurring “great unknown”—all the more prevalent of course at certain critical times in life.

At other times, however, I have found myself musing about death in quite another form, say for example of plans to parcel out my meager net savings to my children, imagining that they will think well of me. Or I ruminate over the possibility that one of them will down-load my writings from my word processor, or wherever it is in my computer, and share them with the others “after I’m gone”. Clearly I am basking then in solicited vainglory, not to say outright vanity--no wonder the thoughts are not morbid. But I have even ventured into visions of my own funeral in a calm and curious way. There is also the rather happy thought that those offspring of mine will be enjoying more than adequate finances of their own and may in all probability be too busy with their lives to reminisce on their largely inadequate fathering much at all. Sometimes I experience a deep sorrow and sense of loss about not seeing my children, and children’s children, but I am sure these ruminations are not unusual, especially in these later years; my point in all this is to show that our orientation to death, our own or that of others, commonly represents a dichotomous and disparate set of attitudes. The probability is that some persons or groups, in this world of ours, leans more consistently toward one rather than toward the other end of that dichotomy. Thus there is the tendency on the part of some groups or individuals to place a great deal of value and importance on earthly life, its material wealth or its romantic or emotional pleasures; emphasis is given to this life and all it holds, often to the greater dread, as time goes on, of eventually giving it up. This orientation to life might be termed “hedonistic” or “earth centered” while the other extreme is represented by those who may appear so Heavenly involved that they are seen by some as “no earthly good”, and indeed may give less thought or energy to the “ungodly” issues of everyday living.

It seems to me, among the earth centered, occasionally there are represented certain Christian writings, with emphasis on monetary success and the “good life”, in some way cast in scriptural terms. To be sure, several of these writers tend to address a minority or underprivileged group that has been sorely dealt with in the past; they may include “Women”, who have experienced exploitation or discrimination by men,(such as the glass ceiling), or those parishioners who have felt excluded by more apparently well-to-do, typically white, middle class, church people. Among writers who seem to take a balanced stand between life and death I would count C. S. Lewis of course, and Philip Yancey for another random example. We have to wonder what effects the more extreme attitudes would have on daily life in the “burbs”.

Among people for whom death and dying represent less important issues could be included the non-religious, atheists, and probably those who have never learned a personal moral code, including persons who may actually kill others for their own peculiar needs, and those routinely under the impress of war or civil police services. It is important to most of these more “tough-minded” ones that the issue of death does not impinge in a way that overawes their lives in other respects; their eating, sleeping and relating styles may remain intact. Here also, however, are the antisocial, the insensitive, and the thoughtless and impulsive ones, especially when under the influence of drugs, alcohol, or strong emotions. Most of these people seem able to keep their personal attitudes tenuously to themselves until life experiences push them into reflexive, deadly actions. And of course there are variations within the course of each life that may change one’s attitudinal polarity, (some may eventually hopefully come to Christ). We might expect many so-called criminal types to be at this end, but also some very successful and well-functioning people who are seen by others as self-sufficient “winners”; egocentricity often requires an unsentimental view of fellow humans. But very important to my way of thinking are the individuals representing a wide range of ages who have become preoccupied with, and enamored of, death. They include the Columbine shooters and the man who killed those little Amish school-girls, the ones who are so impressed with controlling the advent of death that they are impelled to “make it happen” rather than wait for it; “suicide by cop” is just one form of controlling one’s death and the death of others. Their fifteen minutes of fame, which they often avidly seek, must frequently be their last memory among the living.

Occupying the other pole may be counted those in denial of death’s importance; as Lord Byron wrote, “And if I laugh at any mortal thing, ‘tis that I do not weep”, an attitude that often crumbles under the approach of death itself. But here too are many people so impressed by hell-fire and damnation that, even more than death, they may fear to enjoy anything this life on earth has to offer—though there are Scriptures capable of modifying that attitude in equal profusion. They may perhaps prefer to see their lives continue right on into the great beyond without any temporary hitch. Included at this end of the continuum are those who are so wary of, or repulsed by, the idea of death and dying that they “avoid it like the plague” so to speak, and speak of it they rarely do. Their hope may be that to keep such ideas out of sight and out of mind is not only to avoid death but perhaps to conquer it; for them death will hopefully and finally just slip by un-noticed in the midst of life ongoing.

If there is any purpose in all this it is to demonstrate that persons occupying more extreme ends of the dichotomous range of attitudes towards death are most likely to be strongly antagonistic to each other and oppositional with respect to the other in the course of their social behavior. Included here would be political actions, or lack thereof, social skills development, management of money and buying habits, or consumerism, and more or less concern with just who should, or should not, have nuclear capabilities in this world, to name a few areas of likely variance. The conflict between pro-lifers and those favoring abortion is clearly fierce, and the opposition to any war, Iraqi or otherwise, might be predictable; those who compulsively vote at every election could be seen as oppositional to those who never go to the polls. Certainly the ones who vote for improvements to the lives of the elderly or improvements for future generations would likely be opposed by people who see no value in these issues. There are the famous examples of the careful ones who save up for a rainy day, spending money mostly on non-perishables, and the “party-time”, impulse buyers of quickly used up “good-time” goods; it is the eternal fable of the grasshopper and the ant--moral values proven useful in many modern-day contexts.

With these variables in mind a scalar questionnaire could easily be generated to test the hypothesis that these attitudes toward death and dying really do stand as polar opposites, and to what extent the general population is represented in these terms, and furthermore, what particular characteristics might be found for the different sub-groups. For the initial phase of scale construction both a verbal approach by the investigator utilizing only oral questions needs to be accompanied by an attitude scale filled out by an experimental population. In its final short-form verbally administered questions may be all that is needed to discriminate the sub-groups in terms of keys to more practical applications.

WHAT HAPPENED TO YESTERDAY?

2006-10-13T15:13:00.000-07:00

Running through my mind is that line from the scalawag poet Francoise Villon: “Oh, where are the snows of yesteryear!”; Villon makes it uncomfortably clear that no matter how alluring and engaging at their first embrace, the old things no longer exist save in the toils and recoils of memory. Perhaps the lines of John Keats are appropriate following on that list of famous women who lived, were often tragically disposed, and now entirely vanished: “La belle dame sans merci hath thee in thrall”. Upon what may be the brink of moving from my choice location at this lovely beach and bay-side to another residence seems to bring all those pleasanter times in this old place close around me.

I know I will miss the sight of the many little boats gliding leisurely by--a mere stone’s throw from where I am wont to sit beside the bay-shore, and the bright flashes of billowing sails out on the blue-green ocean so very near to the south side of my present home. There are other allurements to be left behind , but most difficult of all is probably leaving forever that part of my life in which I was more active and mobile; sadder still is the knowledge that I can no longer walk out to the water’s edge and take full advantage of a neighborhood that I realize I now inhabit unjustly. Others, younger and stronger, deserve to live here.

The place where I may be going to live is, in some respects, a step backward rather than forward. It is inhabited by older people closer to my age who will surround me whenever I dare leave my own apartment, rather than the company of these younger, more athletic, and shapelier folks--though I probably need to become more sociable with my own group anyway. Having already had a quick visit to the prospective new quarters I am left with a vision straight out of a Noel Coward drawing-room farce, which actually pleases me a lot. From its large southern facing windows I could see the town stretched out below, all the way to the blue shore-line, and I am informed that on the proverbial clear day one can see Catalina Island. Though I already see that island from my present living room closer to the water’s edge, along with the Queen Mary and hordes of sea-birds, it is very reassuring to know there will be familiar sights even at some distant. My fantasy includes a vision of clusters of city lights glowing brightly below my windows as darkness begins descending all over the town, much like those movie scenes filmed from the Hollywood hills, and in my imagination I entertain guests at candle-lit suppers here in this urban setting. Since I have never done so before the whole prospect improves my outlook about moving—I may become an entirely different person with heretofore unseen talents for the high-life.

That term is particularly fitting since I will hopefully be on the eighth floor or higher, (though I may rue the choice when riding the elevator daily in the company of so many walkers and canes). On the other hand, however, much of the business of daily living will presumably be taken over by the staff people who will cook, clean and drive where my inclination leads—at least that is what is told to me by the management—and every Friday there is held what is called a “Happy Hour” where one is, I gather, expected to become happy. I will also, I vow, walk daily over the nice grounds and pathways—and upon the treadmill on the fourteenth floor--in order to maintain strength and health.

But back to the snows of yesteryear; after some serious thought it has come to me that past times are always lost and gone, it is the present and future that we live within, and change is after all the order of the day. It comes to me, in fact, that nothing of times past endures as a tangible part of ongoing reality. In that respect attempts to cling to them are quite futile, and I do feel ready for newness and changes--is it not written (I CO 7:31) “The world in its present form is passing away”. I always like to refer to Scripture when I write and my son Pastor Doug pointed out Haggai 2:9 for me, wherein the people were lamenting the loss of their former temple: “The glory of the present house will be greater than the glory of the former house’, says the Lord almighty. ‘And in this place I will grant peace’, declares the Lord almighty”. May it also be thus here in Long Beach—thank you Lord and Amen.

ANOTHER BLANK DOCUMENT

2006-10-03T20:23:00.000-07:00

Recently in the mail came a form, easily filled out, to renew my life membership in a professional association in which I had been a member since 1966. As I stamped and sealed the return envelope I noticed for the first time, writ large in the lower left, the words: “Must include Life Statement in order to be processed”. Now I’m in a quandary, and for several reasons; for one thing I have already sealed the missile and do not recall making any particular statement, much less one covering my life—even partially. Also I do not know if I, or it, will be processed, whatever that is, but most unsettling is the awareness that I have not now, or even will I ever, reach a position to comment on so personal a thing as “My Life” in any comprehensive way—and certainly not in such a public forum.

There is now, however, the lingering and niggling doubt that should I be required to make such a statement anytime in the future, rank wordlessness and failure would surely be the result. Perhaps just sweeping the whole matter aside with some remark about not suffering fools gladly would get me by, but not for long. If the association continues to insist I might choose a more global and broad –brush response as, “I have always, throughout my life, tried to stand for that which is good and pure”, leaving aside whether or not I had been particularly successful in that effort. Yet even to me it sounds pretentious and lacking in any credible, creaturely life experience.

In fact what occurred to me was the parable of the two men in church who presented themselves to the Lord. The first man asserted that he had lived a good and blameless life and no doubt was pleasing and readily acceptable to the Lord. The second man, poor and contrite, did not even dare to raise his eyes up to heaven. He said “forgive me Father, for I am a sinner”. Of course it proved to be the second man that was closer to heaven’s gate. Thus forewarned and forearmed I began painfully to search out any instances of unprofessional, even unethical thoughts or impulses of conduct over the years. My humility was well settled in by the time I unsealed the blinking letter and found that the “Life Statement” referred to the form I had enclosed indicating that I did indeed intend to remain a Life Member. I might add that after the sense of relief. I am determined to suffer fools more gladly, myself included.

BLANK DOCUMENT

2006-09-27T08:21:00.000-07:00

And blank mind. It has come to me that to be in a good frame of mind one needs to be able to look forward to something in life. I don’t mean in life after, which is a given, but in this life hopefully ongoing. That idea, however, seems to leave me with a profound sense of “dependency” on what might develop from the world around. A trip somewhere, perhaps a future event such as carnival, birthday, holiday-- an invitation of some sort. The thought, if true, leaves me with a frank distaste for the human condition.

“I dreamed I saw a coach and four, that stood beside my bed.
I looked again and saw it was a bear without a head!Poor thing I said, poor silly thing, its waiting to be fed,
--Anon

A headless bear waiting to be fed mirrors the blank mind hopelessly awaiting something agreeable to look forward to. And all the while the hunger for that something comes from deep inside. For one thing, any future events, to be motivational or attractive¸ needs to strike some inner chord of recognition or interest, some correspondence to the time and place of our historical state. The blind acceptance of an uninteresting project, like the infamous blind date, is unlikely to meet any unfulfilled dreams. This being the case it would follow that such hopes and wishes must originally materialize from inside ones self; the pointless meandering of a blank mind is anathema to my forward-looking efforts to improve a leaden will.

But even now the light begins to dawn! Once I started to write there arose a distinct hankering for some way to end the thing. To write is to hope, to look forward to words that may yet come, and to know if others understand. They who seek find a way, as Isaiah 30;21 says, “And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left”. So that hope, that is faith, may always expect the inner spirit to guide the way, and find what is needed. As for that life after, “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.
But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit; for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God. I Corinthians 2:9, 10

FORGOTTEN TREASURES

2006-08-22T10:49:00.000-07:00

Mazes are confusing and frustrating emotional predicaments that I have found can crop up and confront me any time and any place. They are tangles of misdirection, lost directions, and time-consuming snarls of irrelevance. Most strikingly they are usually made up of all the commonplace elements of human relationships and of daily life that have somehow gotten out of hand and become heavier and more cumbersome than one ever expects them to be. I found to my shame and horror that these emotional struggles may lead even to hurting close friends and family members. The effect is often for me to tend to fall into despair and spiritual dismay along with lethargy and defeat, but the tendency is also present to disbelieve my own helplessness and make frantic and ineffectual efforts to find my own way out. Who wants to own up to inadequate life skills--though clearly that seemed to be my “problem”. On the other hand, going to so-called experts or apparently competent others usually gets me into areas I have never been and never wanted to be.

Having repeatedly bumped my head on problem situations that I kept somehow bringing about myself, my thoughts turned to the many words I had written in past times about self defeat and self damage. These ideas matched in many respects with the words of the wonderful Pastor Lewis B. Smedes, whose work on unrecognized shame and guilt, deserved and undeserved, healthy and unhealthy, I finally read. I had both, of course, which is usually the case. That great man of God, or at least his written word, made me acutely aware of my need for saving grace—where I would be accepted, welcomed and not rejected, as I had often covertly felt would be my lot if my problems were known. This also firmly reminded me that I cannot do it by myself. I needed to accept the Lord and his life-giving grace in order to get on with my own life.

How wondrous it is that once awareness to the Word is opened up, confirmation comes from all sides: The fine Pastor C.D to whom I tuned in this Sunday morning pounded out a powerful sermon on the fallacy of permitting our emotions to direct our lives! I had in fact written and spoken many words on the importance of using our God-given brains and our knowledge of Scripture to direct our lives—not our feelings! Feelings are present in all our lives, they are very important, but they should never be in the driver’s seat. Once there they will invariably drive us to self-defeat and self-damage.

That I had forgotten my own words was a bit unsettling, but having lost sight of my ever-present need for the Lord in my life and His saving grace, which I now so earnestly seek, was earth shaking! At the same time it has been my liberation from out of those mazes of defeat and damage. To attain the “Amazing grace that saved a wretch like me” is not usually a one shot cure, but it is the beginning of a wonderful process” which includes the need to accept oneself, as Dr. Smedes reminds us, along with the joy of being on the right path at last, to freedom.

LIFE MADE EVEN BETTER

2006-07-13T22:28:00.000-07:00

Daily life is generally pleasant here at the beach but once in a great while something comes along to make it far and away better. This is always a surprise, which is enjoyable in and of it’s self. Such an event came today in the person of a neighbor named Buzz—or Howard—whichever; he is always warm, genial and a pleasure to talk with on any day.

Today he came bearing gifts! It must be understood that Buzz is a man of many parts, ex-oil-field worker, pilot, world traveler, builder, all-around repairman, often seen on a rather forbidding ladder, and many more roles I am sure. He usually wears a friendly smile and so it was today, when another whole new set of skills came into view; he gardens somewhere, perhaps on a roof-top I imagine, and he prepares the champagne of soups! If gazpacho is the wine of soups then Buzz’s version is pure champagne. It increases my profound respect and gratitude to note that he hand-carried jars of this ambrosia together with the tastiest croutons I’ve ever munched, and carefully diced cucumbers for garnish. Now it appears he is a master chef; gazpacho is a cold soup from Spain and needs the freshest of vegetables, especially tomatoes and garlic, praise the Lord.

This signal kindness leaves me “filled” with truly good feelings and gratitude—did I say life can be better? It really doesn’t get much better than this, thanks and kindest regards to Buzz—or Howard.

NOW SUMMER IS COMING IN…

2006-07-13T22:26:00.000-07:00

It is entirely probable that the true harbingers of summer are children. As someone once said, this is the time of year when kids begin to slam all the doors they had left open all winter. Father’s Day having just come and gone, all the memories are rekindled anew. This was their time to celebrate and who cares, if in the process, they managed to attract strange germs that mostly their elders succumbed to or actually caught. Even now children go to the beach in droves and exhibit that old wound-up “springs in the legs” phenomenon as soon as they hit the perimeter of the shore. All the great battles of history may be staged and restaged here, even the one involving a beach-towel covered, fake wooden horse, with weapons of water and sand. Oh, to have some of that energy, and imagery, now.

In memory it seemed to me that kids were never manageable from the start: first they were far too wriggly and smart—they out-wriggled and outsmarted me. Then they outran me, and finally they became much too strong physically. I didn’t have an edge anywhere and looking back it appears that I was the one being trained—a slow learner at that; and it is probably just as well that I was the learner—I discovered that in their own way they were, and are, incredibly wise. As a case in point I was recently visited by my daughter Jenny and her two wonderful little boys, essentially my grandsons, as it were! The two Ts, Trygve and Thorsen, were glad to see the beach again, and me too, I think. Pizza had bee ordered in and after lunch we settled stomachs before a swim with a drawing contest which I may have won—ages 6 and 7 are still too young to win arguments, especially on esthetic grounds. However, though I am a poor loser they both won first prizes to avoid bitterness on all sides. But in this brief encounter I could again see my own kids around this age and was overcome with nostalgia and longing just to hold them again and lavish kisses and spanks. I can remember how beautiful and they were—and are.

For one important thing, they taught me to love. I really know how precious and miraculous they really are; gifts from God in truth and in fact—and my grandchildren are here to prove it.

AS TIME GOES BY…

2006-06-13T09:15:00.000-07:00

Everybody around here is getting older--day by day and moment by moment. This is remarkable, especially because as older gets, well, older, some of us undergo changes, and sometimes for the better. And some of us know this and some of us do not. I say this because someone who I don’t know said that as we get older we realize more clearly that kindness is synonymous with happiness--both giving and getting.

What we do about this is another matter, but the truth of that statement is undeniable and writing about it is one thing to do. Anne Frank knew that when as a child close to death she wrote in her diary “How wonderful it is that nobody needs to wait a single moment before starting to improve the world”. We read it again over 60 years later. Margaret Mead said, never doubt that a few caring people can change the world—there has never been any other way. Acts of charitable behavior are cited in ethics of religion and in many cultures: “If you have not often felt the joy of doing a kind act, you have neglected much, and most of all yourself.” (A. Nielson). Even Aesop, presumably in later years, said “No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted”. There are volumes of such confirmations and a Society for RAK (random acts of kindness) is well known.

But a researcher in England named Geoffrey Miller found, after extensive study, that most people feel they are about as happy as they need to be. This finding held true across gender, income, marital status and almost every other social parameter—in most every part of the world. This is by self-report of course, which has its drawbacks, but it is concluded by some students of the matter that the basis for such behavior is genetically ordained. It may, however, clearly be questionable that these findings apply equally to the poor and sick people, say of Calcutta, or anywhere else for that matter, where they suffer the things many people somewhere always do. Acts of kindness can be spiritually powerful in any painful circumstance. On May 21st, 2006, it is reported that a girl in Zimbabwe named Rita wrote as follows about an incident she witnessed: Riding on a bus in heavy traffic on her way to visit a home for orphans, what she saw and heard brought tears. A “terrible accident” happened; a motorbike rider lay bleeding in the street, apparently in critical condition out there in the road, and most probably dying. Members of a nearby church called an ambulance and women from the church rushed to his side forming a circle around him; “they sang beautiful hymns and said prayers, some to save his body, some to save his soul. They sang like angels—the music was sad and beautiful. This gesture (of caring) was so touching and I shall never forget the kindness of those women in time of need”.

We may remember, love is kind; “And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved…” (Ephesians:2, 6-8). “And be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.” (Ephesians: 4; 32). It occurs to me that one can get older at any age—and as time goes by we can all learn to be kinder to each other--before it is too late.

A BIG WEEK-END

2006-05-31T17:15:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day week-end and everything is beautiful here. The sun is out early but it is not too hot—just right for lolling out on the sand. Though not quite June, it is a rare day in May. So many people are away on holiday trips that the free and open roadway is not as crowded here as it might otherwise be on such a day, providing clear easy paths for the cyclists and strollers in bright beach togs. As this day unwinds it’s leisurely hours each one appears better than the last and seems, in it’s own way, perfect for all God’s Memorial Day children—but there is a rift in the lute!

Like the fellow who keeps making silly blunders said, “I am not at all well”. Confined to quarters on this beautiful Military Remembrance Day with an undefined and so far unnamable ailment for three days now, my undisciplined creative bent has brought vividly to my mind many incurable and interminable ailments, some quite unknown to medical science, and all sure to result in great pain and suffering. Which, by the way, I already have some of, and since my sanest guess is that I harbor a strange kind of food poisoning I eat only packets of oatmeal cooked with water. For three days. I would describe my symptoms but they so far elude description; when I think of the task of telling a doctor what they are I realize immediately that I am probably beyond help, because I have never heard of some of those vague, ill defined aches and pains either.

But I have still wanted to somehow make use of that venerable phrase “a rift in the lute’ for no other reason than because I am fond of older English words and expressions. This one roughly means that one false or omitted note may ruin the whole cantata, and dates at least from the Sixteenth century—(Alfred Lord Tennyson also used it in a longish verse called Vivien’s Song). So just here, amidst my moaning and groaning comes, quite appropriately, the flash-back that a wiser one than I wrote one of those “Hee Hoo” adages, as I choose to call them, to wit: “He who is not grateful for the good things he has would not be satisfied with what he wishes he had.” And there you have the “rift”; before your very gaze I have spoiled the beauty of this day the Lord has made, and have yet to be really glad in it. Do you out there think that Forgiveness is too much to ask?

A CLEAN NEW DAY AT THE BEACH

2006-05-24T16:34:00.000-07:00

Bright, clear and airy, the shores of beach and bay appear freshly laundered this morning: “If seven maids with seven mops swept for half a year, do you suppose, the Walrus said, they could sweep the seashore clear?” I don’t remember if the Carpenter, who was reportedly walking close at hand, ever committed himself on this point, but something very much like it seemed to have come about. No maids or mops were in evidence, but all the old sand, water and sky we had endured throughout the winter and sultry grey spring were washed to a shiny newness.

This day had all the earmarks of a truly new day; to contemplate its ending, or imagine shifting its venue to unhappy hospital wards for example, seems unthinkable at the moment--where one goes or what one does on this day is irrelevant; being in it is everything and the response of choice can only be gratitude “...to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.” (Eph. 4:23, 24). Do you doubt? “…you must understand that in the last days scoffers will come, scoffing and following their own evil desires,… But in keeping with His promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness”. (2 Peter, 3:3,13.).

Yet by now the nostalgic afternoon shades begin to extend across streets and walkways and this day is beginning to look like so many others. It will surely go where each day is lost to eternity, although this one has brought a message of prophecy and hope. One can be very grateful for that.

AWAITING A NEW KIND OF PAIN

2006-05-12T21:19:00.000-07:00

Though it is dim and muggy this morning I thought surely, as I stepped outside, that the seasonal rains were over and now I can walk freely about the neighborhood on a daily bssis. I noticed some chalk-marks on the pavement near the red no parking strip on the curbing and at closer inspection they clearly read “Wet Pain”! In my reclining years, (not wanting to use the less delicate “declining years), I have had some experience with pains of various sorts. To my knowledge there has never been anything I could refer to as ”Wet Pain”.

The street was a bit wet, perhaps from the night before, and it occurred to me that these words were a weather report of sorts, some impromptu observation from a vaguely disgruntled neighbor perhaps. On the other hand, who am I to brush aside a pain that one day may be my own; just how it is dealt with could be crucial. Such a pain may be, like that well known thorn of Paul, (2 Cor. 12: 7-10), which enabled him to say “In my weakness I am strong”, in the Lord, of course. My guess is that such a reaction does not come automatically and may need some practice—it is never to soon to begin.

Musing as I walked, thinking maybe it is something experienced only in the bathtub, I noticed what you have already guessed; all the red curbing up and down the street was clearly marked “Wet Paint”. But I am alerted and prepared now for something that could occur to me at any time in the future, Praise God.

A GRAY DAY AT THE BEACH

2006-04-27T21:43:00.000-07:00

We have recently had a few such days but from the bayside this one is striking for its complete, still, grayness. Gray sky, gray water, gray air all rendered more drab by the presence of two long, slender, wind-surfing boards pointed sharply at both ends, left leaning up against the dark skeletal dock near the water. They exert a fiercely discordant effect largely because those are the only colors out there except gray--they are bright red-orange, with purple accents—shades of Mauna Loa!

Looking in the other direction great merchant ships and oil tankers float at anchor on a calm, murky ocean, waiting to dock and discharge cargo. They invoke memories, worn and faded images of these same ships berthed and waiting to be boarded. It was important somehow to go aboard off one’s watch and get a special place out on the bow. Once the vessel leaves the breakwater and the harbor mouth in its wake, this vantage-point becomes an elevator plunging from 40 feet to six feet and back, above the sea spray; there were dolphins, and in some parts flying fish on either side--escorts out into that wide expanse of billowing sea air and an unknown future. “When ever I feel myself growing grim about the mouth; when ever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul;…--then, I account it high time to get to sea.”—so go the familiar lines of Melville.

Merchant ships are noted in Proverbs 31:10 and14; “A wife of noble character who can find?...She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar.” In war-time of course, it was aviation gasoline and munitions, but the simile is appropriate; not that I could reliably manage a rowboat these days, but the lure is powerful and compelling. Especially on a gray day like this one I can just begin to note a touch of grimness around my mouth, a surge of November deep within, and feel mildly resentful at being caught up in a land-locked state of mind and body.

THE GOOD OLD TIME

2006-04-22T12:04:00.000-07:00

The place around here is changing again. A word of caution: it is easy to confuse time and place. Yesterday morning a few canoes put out on the bay, some chronic beach people were back looking paler since the brief cold spell, and this morning bright spots of color from several beach umbrellas enliven the scene. I emerge to bask lizard-like on a stony wall while bathers frolic or relax in the sand, kids and roller-skaters race in the street, the sun warm and bright. There is a definite change in the air; “balmy” can in some contexts mean “crazy” and may indeed suit some of us intending to have summer fun so early in the year.

The day wears on and some compelling force I do not quite understand brings my attention to the changing light and shade; the effect is to shadow more darkly the backs of everything and highlight the details of each object in clear and bold relief. “Look away from the sun in the afternoon” is the painter’s axiom, “to see true color in nature”. Shadows have become more prominent and people moving in and out of them seem oblivious to the stage-craft, the drama, and the marked visual changes they are bringing about. The shadows are not oblivious however, and continue to inch longer and splash more widely along pavements and sandy stretches, mysteriously moving out from behind trees and figures into the open spaces. Things are changing; a different place and time—like last year and the year before, and the one to come, but different still than all the others. Time and life have already moved ahead perceptively--and lights will go on in all our houses later this day.

“Those hazy, lazy, crazy days of summer” are almost upon us—and also foreshadow their oncoming death. In these our times of quick changes, information glut, E-mail, cell- phone messages, and ubiquitous TV—shifting sands beneath us, one writer noted that it is important to always try to say something eternal. Surely nothing said here so far approaches that standard; specious times and tides are perhaps the most perishable of all.

Time, and place, and person—these you would be asked to identify to prove your sanity out here so early, but it is already proven that time and place are hopelessly blurred; the person, you, are the only eternal thing so far. Our Lord Jesus promised He would be with you forever, and will send the Holy Spirit to guide you, and that is perhaps what eternity is really all about. But then, maybe summer will prove to be eternal too.

EASTER EGG SUNDAY

2006-04-17T11:24:00.000-07:00

I must truly confess that I sorely miss the near-sacred tradition of gorging myself on candy purloined from the Easter baskets of unsuspecting small children—usually ones own children, of course. Sweets obtained any other way on this day are never quite as soul-satisfying or as free from the ordinary guilt associated with gluttony. I take some bitter comfort from an obvious loss of stealth and dexterity in this maneuver over time, and in the fact that my children are old enough now to not only protect their trove from me, but are fully capable of stealing their own—from their own, so to speak.

I admit that in times past they have occasionally gotten wise to me, so over the years I have traded rather heavily on the passage from Luke that asks, “Which of you fathers, when his son asks for an egg, would give him a scorpion?”. This has left me with some assurance that I will be nipped by no scorpions in the course of secret retrievals—or even from behind innocent faces of mock-generosity.

These days it is a different time and place, and little kids here at the beach are different too, somehow. I won’t say they are stingy exactly, but they prove to be remarkably wary and amazingly quick in their protective actions. That being the case, and it being Easter Sunday, our dear Lord risen and all, I have fallen back on more honest means of procuring those eggs--but they never taste quite as good.

OUR WEEKEND ATHLETES

2006-04-07T15:20:00.000-07:00

Saturday and Sunday mornings here at the beach are, compared to other days, marked by frenetic and blustering bursts of activity. Runners and joggers, skaters and bicycle riders, and yes, brisk walkers, come hurrying out as if, on these brief days, time is of the essence. Even with the recent cold, wet weather they are out there early--at times and under conditions which, from my protective kitchen window, I sleepily judge to be fit for neither man nor beast. They stream out from workaday confines in their “sweats” and Adidas and onto the breezy, sandy, surf-ringed pathways in order to gain or keep healthy bodies in proper shape; they have only the better part of two days in which to do it.

At these times I try to take some meager comfort in the familiar lines from Ecclesiastes 9:11,
“The race is not to the swift
or the battle to the strong,
nor does food come to the wise
or wealth to the brilliant
or favor to the learned;”
The very next line is even more conclusive, “but time and chance happen to them all.” Time, in this sense, I take to mean occasions, events and unexpected happenings, including the process of aging over time—and what I don’t have a whole lot of. In spite of my indolent refusal to join in those energetic activities I still have a fragmentary hope not to let time and chance catch me napping, as it were. After retiring from gainful employment I have jealously guarded my time as my own, especially these week-end kick-back days, and strive to keep them aside, mostly for loafing, which I think I do with a fair amount of grace and panache.

On the other days, of which there are usually five, except for holidays, days with appointments, or I-don’t-feel-much-like-it days, I realize one should manage to move around quite a bit more, since the body may be falling, just a tinge, into disrepair. You might also note food, wealth and favor are not particularly reserved for the wise, brilliant or learned and hence probably not for me either. By the same token, the swift and the strong may or may not win the race or the battle, nor probably should I--all of which leads me resolve from my window-sill to maintain at least a moderate and sedate level of exercise. The fervent hope is that like Paul, my efforts will be construed as the good fight, finishing the race and keeping the faith—I also pray for a quick cure for laziness.

MAKING MOVIES AT THE BEACH

2006-04-03T21:05:00.000-07:00

Every year about this time we are notified that some studio will be filming in our neighborhood; for unknown reasons most of the birds seem to leave the area for 3 or 4 days of shooting, though no one has as yet credited them with obviously astute cinematic sensibilities. The huge trucks and vans come rolling in, lining the streets and sandy off-road way-sides; they are carrying a virtual small city of props, lights, reflectors, dressing rooms, hoists and camera dollies of every description. I happen to know this because a lot of it is unloaded across the street from my dwelling--but I do not venture outside anymore in its midst. I know there will be appetizing food spread over long tables for the film people and on a couple of occasions in the past I was offered something at breakfast or lunch—knowing full well, however, that someone might also try to press me into a leading role of some sort. I do not know why this always happens—I have heard some muttering about a “great profile”, but while I may be available for advice from time-to-time, (my expertise goes back to the 40s), acting is far too wearying a job.

A year ago they were doing a thing called “She Spies”, probably a take-off on the old “Charley’s Angels” series. They used my entrance-way for many of the scenes and most of the action took place outside my kitchen window; I was in most of the shots though undetected by the busy crew. They did one scene with as many as six retakes and that just goes to show why it is such hard work; a gun had been dropped on my porch, purposefully of course, and the female lead, who appeared to have been originally cast for a production of the Ziegfield Follies of 1938, was supposed to rush up to retrieve the weapon and foil the baddies. Unfortunately, directorship not being what it used to be, they could not get her to reflect the right degree of aggression and militancy; she had to run a short distance beside a fast-moving camera rigged to roll on wheels, and I sensed immediately that her stiletto heels must make it difficult for her to dash out of hiding and appear menacing at the same time. After each take a stunt man would follow her steps with rather vicious gusto, throw himself on an imaginary gun and coming up in a crouch, finger firing as he came in order to illustrate for her the proper level of urgency; she gamely crouched with him, but still seemed to approach my porch as if inspecting an invisible array of weapons for just the right color combination. Any director worth his salt would have whispered that her boy friend was flirting with one of the pretty extras, or that a big once a year sale on Rodeo Drive was about to end, just to get the scene over with. By the way, that gun was picked up and put back after each of those takes by a man who, by law, was hired only for that specialized task; then, and only then, the cameras would roll again.

This year the series is called “Criminal Minds” and it is obvious to me they have already missed a big advantage. It is rather prosaic to expect criminals to have criminal minds, what else would they use to plan those things they do? The real interest arouser would be to change the title to “Criminal Bodies”. Imagine all that rapaciousness and mayhem committed without a single thought—as much of it may in fact be. They evidently plan to go ahead without my input as it is the fourth day and the last of the huge, bulging, air-conditioned vans is huffing its way down the road. Birds are flying back again, some with feathers ruffled, making plaintive noises of disapproval. Quiet descends on our street like an answer to silent prayer; some people hereabouts are breathing sighs of relief.

A NEW OLD PRINCIPLE

2006-04-01T20:42:00.000-08:00

When first introduced to this beach-side community I was advised to avoid formality and wear anything I wanted to wear. In that pursuit I may have stumbled on a principle of life that should be recognized as inviolate and omnipresent for us all. It came to me when I realized that some of my clothes were wearing out. There had been a closet full of them when I retired and I continued to wear them, cleaning and laundering shirts, trousers, coats and jackets, some of which began to get pretty raveled and frayed. The important thing to note, however, is that the things that remained in the best condition were the ones I liked the least.

The principle applied to clothing would go something like this: Over time we will tend to dress ourselves more frequently in the things of which we are most fond, and will eventually be left with only those items in our closet we do not particularly care for—or more or less hate.

The principle applies to any number of things; another example is with foodstuffs. When I fill the pantry and larder by shopping for groceries, I find by the end of the following week I am subsisting on cans and boxes of things that are probably only palatable to chemists and for which I have no memory of buying. You see, the point is unavoidable: we wear or eat ourselves into a relatively miserable existence.

How about our furniture? Those comfortable and comforting but now worn, shabby sprung sofas and chairs may still, but not for long, stand beside pieces that are uninviting, stiffly formal and impossible to relax with or around or upon. What about those dishes and tableware gradually reduced to heirlooms which must not be scratched or broken under pain of death, or crockery that not only doesn’t match but were visually intolerable with oatmeal and good old stew in them over the years? I do not want to belabor the obvious, which I am now doing, but think if you dare of the various body-parts, muscles and sensory areas, that will eventually be the first to go.

This inevitable descent into a relative purgatory must be avoided at all costs. Its operational center is pure vanity and pleasure-seeking of course, but is that all bad? In Ecclesiastes 8:15, the writer finds life’s pleasures not only acceptable but commendable. “So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a man under the sun than to eat, drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun.” Living as I do under the beach sun, you may think I have written myself into a corner here, but I will show the case to be otherwise. To continue on the path of wisdom only requires that you either replace everything you own with things you like, credit card at the ready, or at least bring in only a few disliked activities or possessions at odd intervals and in the smallest increments possible. Even these you can whittle down as you advance in years. This, at least, is my advice and my plan, thank you.

STORIES IN THE NEWS

2006-03-29T22:27:00.000-08:00

If, as philosophers have surmised, life consists of sturm und drang, here at the beach it seems to me the sturm of life is usually calmly taken along with its drang, but with relatively less urgency and a few grains of salt; recent news stories rarely appear to excite, or even rankle, these laid-back shore dwellers. Personally, however, as important news stories break on our informational shores, which they seem to do with greater frequency now, the less I understand or know, and the less secure I actually am of my position--and the more aroused and upset I can become about it; many of my neighbors must, beneath those cool exteriors, feel quite the same way.

But yesterday’s earth-shaking issues have apparently already become old and familiar; it is as if all their concerns quickly enter a limbo of out-of-date news-flashes, even when Christianity itself comes under fire! I suspect, however, if I should start a rumor that alien body-snatchers, many millennia ahead of us scientifically but incidentally lacking the skill to replace their own bodies are at work in the neighborhood, I could almost guarantee unruly mobs of peasants carrying oaken cudgels, haying-forks, pine-tar torches and sporting surly scowls, all in very short order, (perhaps with me amongst them).

It has occurred to me, however, that I may be only visualizing reactions like those followers of Artemis, “Artemis of the Ephesians,” (Acts:19, 2-41), about whom riots regarding The Way broke out. What confusion, what alarms, violent reactions and urgencies to violence among the roistering crowds around the town square and on into the theater. These were people who had heard or fancied threats to their belief system and to what they saw as the sanctity and financial advantages of their preeminent goddess. How powerful then were the calm directives given by an ordinary city clerk urging legal assembly in place of rioting. Thus, words and reason seemed, momentarily, to stand up for faith in the Word; as in Psalm 46 (10): “Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth…The Lord Almighty is with us;”. One is presented there who is slow to anger and abounding in love--in this way the words of Paul finally were recorded in The Word.

But now I can’t decide whether my neighbors know something of which I had lost sight, or whether they just don’t pay much attention to the news.

SPRING AGAIN (BALLAD OF AN UNHAPPY MAN)

2006-03-23T19:53:00.000-08:00

Have we not had enough of spring already, even after my last writing? I can’t seem to let it alone, but the reasons are far from clear. I am no fan of weather reports, I don’t usually find them either interesting or particularly believable, but three national surveys agreed that of the entire country, our area is today most spring-like. And to cap that I noticed for the first time this year there were a couple of gondolas out in the bay practicing their gala trips through local canals. The outside air confirmed the reports; warm and balmy, with perfumed breezes and greening plants—the whole nine yards. That is, until I met that downhearted fellow.’

He spoke to me as follows: This dawn found me reviewing my entire life—without one redeeming feature coming in with the sorry tide. This being the time of rebirth and change, I faced the prospect of a daunting task: give it up as a bad job or begin to redo the whole mess from scratch—I fell so low in spirits that some words of Isaiah came to mind, “But the wicked are like the tossing sea which cannot rest, whose waves cast up mire and mud” (57:20). The man certainly knew his Bible, but had apparently set it aside some time ago for other pursuits.

Isaiah is my favorite OT book; so literate, so incisively insightful, so painfully true. However, now that he thought of it, written therein is--”I live in a high and holy place, but also with him who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite.” (Isaiah 57:15). Off handedly I asked him what he thought should be the occupation of the contrite--he also asked himself: One word only came; repentance! It was then that the vision of an insurmountable task began to lose some of its impossible dimensions. While he still looked at an entire life of mistaken, often selfish, hurtful actions, where even its purposes were poor choices, and most everything came out plain bad, a choice to change everything might not be entirely out of the question—anything he does now can only be an improvement! Already so wrong, if change is his game, he couldn’t go wrong for going right. Besides, Isaiah says he is not doing it alone.

He seemed a happier man, and I reflected that if winter has indeed come and gone, can spring be not far behind--in fact, staring us in the face?

A CHANGE IN THE AIR

2006-03-19T21:02:00.000-08:00

After a couple of fairly rainy days, this morning a few kayaks and sculls are energetically making their way across the bay. Patches of warm, bright sunshine countered by short and sharp gusts from the sea keep a few early walkers moving briskly along too. Our perpetual little sailboats cluster like white puff-balls over the blue-green water, but wind flurries strike and cause them to flitter like early spring butterflies on stubby white wings. In fact, the calendar insists that spring is about one week ahead of us.

The balance of this day, however, surely bodes little comfort out of doors unless one is addicted to raw edged, windblown walks, and the thunder-storms that are predicted in the area; winds hereabouts tend to increase after lunch time, although today a wayward breeze here and there is scented vaguely of lifted spirits. As early as Genesis 1:14 God said, “Let there be lights in the expanse of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark seasons and days and years…”. In Leviticus 26:3,4 He said, “If you follow my decrees and are careful to obey my commands, I will send you rain in its season, and the ground will yield its crops and the trees of the field their fruit”.

With notable exceptions that has usually been the case, and the lights in the sky are giving their signs. I don’t know how careful or obedient any one has been; unusual warmth at earth’s extremities and melting polar ice-caps suggest to some a reckoning might be somewhere down the road, and we are advised to count our blessings only after the harvest is in the barn. Signs aside, we are blessed by a forgiving Father who knows both our foibles and our hearts—and if it comes to that, a new earth and a new Heaven will be mighty fine—dare I hope for new sailboats too?

A NEW FACADE AT THE BEACH

2006-03-08T22:57:00.000-08:00

Passing by the new building site has been almost a daily event for several months. Each phase of the construction was duly inspected; razing of the old structure, the framing of wood and steel, the plumbing and wall-boarding, wire and tar-paper, stucco and plaster, glazing, and more to come. The crews usually wave to me from across the street and when the second-story roof was set in place the waving was even more celebratory than usual. Perhaps this camaraderie was partly due to the fact that as I lurched by with my walker I frequently assured them if they needed any help they could call on me.

The new structure is squeezed into a row of similar small apartment houses facing the bay and the morning sun. It is mostly of the Modern style, or perhaps because of Spanish type details here and there it could be called Moderne. In any case, with its straight and angular lines the rounded tops of two large windows and the entry-door insures that it will feel at home with its older, more venerable neighbors. Speaking of neighbors a young woman who lives nearby informed me that she grew up in the house that was demolished. Her grandmother had owned it for years and finally sold the property to renovators. I wonder now if that woman ever thought about what had been left in the rubble--or the layers under the latest rubble. What about the wells of Abraham or Jacob, built over older wells, or like Tells and digs of Egypt, and the whited sepulchers of old, what of dormant blessings

“…because of the Shepherd, the Rock
Of Israel,
Because of your father’s God, who
Helps you,…”.

I suddenly wanted to know, too late, what relic or lost art lay under the older structure. It is rumored that the Chumash of early California were no great shakes at building houses and the Clam-diggers, or the Wailiki were reportedly uninterested in architecture, but the centuries must be made of more than that. It occurred to me that soon the bright new place would be lost in the obscurity of its rows of counterparts along all the streets—in all the towns around, hiding perhaps forever what had been there before. Is it like that with people? Each one of us may indeed cover over ancestral lives that are now lost, but surely only in earthly rubble are things of value hidden. Fortunately no child of God is lost in eternity. The newcomer is welcome to stay too.

BEACH BUNNIES

2006-03-04T19:48:00.000-08:00

Until recently, here at the beach little kids seemed like visitors from another planet, but that has changed. I began to realize how completely happy those tots could be—when the weather is warm they develop a peculiarity--at, or anywhere near the sand and water, they suddenly grow springs in their legs, leaping, dancing and running faster than any battery-powered bunnies could do. They laugh, scream, squeal and splash; they gaze with wide-eyed joy and wonder at seeing things for the very first time. They somehow make the familiar beach scene much more fun. I do not consider myself to be the playful type, but perhaps rather like Paul in 1st Corinthians, (9:22, 23), I tried to join in and become all things to all men—or in this case, to all little kids. Now that the weather is cooler they come bundled up and are usually pushed in strollers; since I miss the squeals and the laughs, I make faces at them.

As they wheel past my seat on the low wall, putting them momentarily almost eye-level with me, my “Crazy Willie” face usually gets their attention. I smile broadly right away and get back a smile, a laugh, or at least a look of round-eyed wonder. Encouraged by this I find that noises help and my little tea- pot routine with “Tip me over, pour me out” is sure fire. Anything for a laugh, I say. Voices work too; not only do I get a “frog” in my throat, I occasionally get a “dog” in it as I bark at them. Some times it is a “horse”, I have a “bird” in my throat when I “swallow”, and the “swoop and soar” may leave me “sore”. The kids often lean out of their buggies, looking back at me--and we wave. If all else fails I can go into my “man being hanged” routine as a last resort.
I have noticed, however, that during the recent week more and more “stroller pushers” are going by me from across the street. I get a rare wave or a smile but that’s about all. Perhaps it has become clear that I am no virtuoso—or my audience has become jaded with the same old material. Public fame being what it is, fickle and short-lived, I will just have to find another gig—or maybe add tap-dancing to my repertoire.

RAINY DAY AT THE BEACH

2006-02-28T18:44:00.000-08:00

It’s not common hereabouts but usually well tolerated. Starting with a noticeable change in the air—which becomes cooler--with over-cast sky; the lavender, violet clouds merge into purple, with blacker edges here and there, serving to urge rain-people to walk out-of-doors.

It began with ...

a .

and a drop

and more drops

walking with wet faces

can be fun, with smell of

steamy wood, wet grass; even

damp dust from rainless days, is

fragrant. Now raindrops are falling,

falling on our heads—and all over this

land. Northern winds picking up speedy

delivery--rain commands its own perform-
ance—the choice to endure rain is not our own
choice to make. Big wet splashes are leaping up, up

from the street and filling the bay; looking more and more

like a regular gulley-washer now—the sort of rain only a

fool would not have brains enough to come in out of, at

once. Through windy coal-black sky and hills, the

soughing of wind and shriek of flailing, drenched limbs are

eerie, like the cry of poor damned souls. Overhead are

plumed branches, leaves and fronds thrashing, lashing,

and cracking loudly, wildly; heard amid the strange thick

darkness the bones of ancient dead warriors must come

alive—with Ezekiel the end-times witness, and the clash

and roar of warring armies—deafening rumbles and

groans, flashes of lightning. God bless all the sailors out at

sea in ships today, and all those souls on land, too. Signs

appear now in the sky, signs of further change—but

welcome sun rays break through and reveal the sloshed,

glossy-wet trees, now bathed in tints of warm amber-

greens and bronzes, starkly limned against the cold, grey-

black thunder-heads still looming above the churning

bay—contrast in lurid color and light. A fantastically

colorful rainbow arcs dramatically across the heavens—a

promise; the rain goes away as it came, from buckets-full,

to dribbles
to drops
to drips
to.s

And the land is new-wet and reborn, for a short time at least, the way the Lord first made it, the way He must have looked at it, and saw that it was good. So clean it smells good, feels good and everyone forgets--even little two-foot-high runaways splashing through lingering puddles in their best shoes and stockings--forget the darkness and revel in the heavenly light.

SUNDAY AT THE BEACH

2006-02-26T14:24:00.000-08:00

Lots of days here start like this early morning; windless times that fishermen know well--boats glide easily and cleanly out to the banks. There is no rustling from nearly transfixed palm-leaves; water in the bay is glassy, fog-colored and reflecting only the silence. The ocean is moved by smooth, sprayless currents; a day perhaps to go after lenguada, the tongue-shaped flat halibut.

It must have been such a morning at the Sea of Galilee, when Peter and his brother Andrew came ashore to find a stranger waiting for them. It is recorded, “Galilee of the Gentiles—the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.” (Mat. 4:15, 16). The brothers learned they were to be fishers of men, and followed willingly!

Here at the beach it is a Sunday; sea-birds in neat rows natter fitfully like parishioners restively waiting for the service to begin. The hush is almost chapel-like and a prayer rushes forth unbidden: “Dear Lord, let me be caught in the net of men such as those, and lifted up.” Amen.

WRITER’S BLOCK

2006-02-25T21:42:00.000-08:00

When I write something that I think is both well-written and original, it is like telling secrets or revealing the answers to riddles. But the results then seem to me less interesting, like the punch line to a familiar joke; as if there is really no artfulness to the obvious. My tendency is then to resist writing down thoughts that come to mind in order to protect their pristine importance. The net result is an exercise in self-defeat; when I turn again to those undoubted gems of literary skill they are completely forgotten.

There is so far no way out of this predicament because if I write anything down the result is just ordinary at best—it remains great only if not written—and lost beyond recall. Of course it will also be forgotten by everyone else if written down, perhaps a sort of notoriety, but why share my lack-luster words with others?

The solution to the predicament is presented by Oliver Wendell Holmes, the elder, who recorded that he shared some lines of a humorous poem he had just written with his man-servant, who broke out in helpless laughter. “Ten days and nights with sleepless eye, I watched that wretched man. Since then I’ve never dared to write as funny as I can.” I will just not write as splendidly as I can—or as funny, for that matter.

SIGNS IN THE SKY

2006-02-10T22:02:00.000-08:00

Signs in the sky and over the waters! From my bayside lookout post there is a dark patch in an otherwise clear sky. There is a similar patch in the bay below. The water there is a warm gray, a dull mixture of blue and darker ochre, on either side it is the usual cerulean blue—sky-color to most painters. Here at the beach the map shows us further out from the rest of California shores than most surrounding terrain; there is sparse vegetation here. Little of this is indigenous to the area; nearly all of it, palm trees included, was carted in from somewhere else, and fire hazards in our local brush is not usually a problem. But today looks different.

A chunk of my distant panorama of the Sierras and local Anaheim Hills is obscured by smoke—and where there is smoke there is also the scourge of fire. “I read the news today, oh boy!” People up there in the hills are fleeing their homes at the very last minute (though it has been said that if there were no last minutes very little would get done in this world), taking the few most precious articles one can think of, almost always door-keys and hairbrushes. I don’t know if the lintels or sills of those doors were marked by more than the fire-inspector’s notes, probably not blood from a freshly slaughtered lamb. But the local exodus has begun and smoke marks a path across the waters—from this side we can only pray that all the children of God shall emerge safely, all the children, and that the evil flames of their pursuers be drowned.

ANOTHER DAY AT THE BEACH

2006-02-03T21:32:00.000-08:00

Not many people know that as I walk daily with my indispensable walker around a modest circuit, I usually sit down briefly by the bay-side in order to inspect the day—and check out the action on the street. Even fewer know that when skate-boarders glide past me I often ask if they want to trade with me, walker for skateboard. Some times I even ask roller-skaters and cyclists. So far I have got quite a collection of blank or bemused stares and an uncertain laugh or two—but no actual takers. The closest I have come to a live one was when a toddler came toddling over and put a vise-like grip on my walker. Not understanding the childish garble I appealed to his nanny who, as it turned out, spoke no English. It was then made clear to me that he had asked “Es esto su jueguete?” (“Is this your toy?”). I reluctantly turned the kid down. Although I might have really enjoyed a ride in his stroller, the nanny seemed less than impressed by the idea. Whatever!

The reverie of sailing swiftly down the street, carelessly and carefree, is hard to let go, but this “incident of the playful child” reminded me that the common term, in Spanish-speaking countries, for my walker is “burro”. As I made my way back home, lurching along, plodding slowly, I was also reminded of Balaam and his little donkey. When he wouldn’t go as swiftly and directly as Balaam wished, the poor little beast was cursed and beaten—about the way I have occasionally felt towards my metallic mount. But the little “burro” was only obeying the Lord, and how bravely he persisted.

It came to me that perhaps it is not the Lord’s will that I sail down the street on a skateboard; for that matter, perhaps it wasn’t anyone’s will, even mine, truth be told. This thought has probably saved me from a most unkind fate, for which I thank the Lord.

NEWS FROM THE BEACH

2006-02-01T14:54:00.000-08:00

This morning at the beach seemed, in a manner of speaking, strictly for the birds. No one else out there, they made the most of it; fishing once in awhile but mostly soaring and diving, dipping and gliding, they rose and wheeled as a flock. Of course someone had to ask, “Where would birds of a feather flock, if not together”? But they rose and fell gracefully and I must say, for the most part, gravely and soberly!

Such madcap antics should, as a matter of propriety, be accompanied by gleeful shouts, but their cries were low-key and raucously solemn. It came to me that these displays were actually deeply ingrained and, if likened to human mannerisms, ritualistic. After all such a bird flew tirelessly from the mountains of Ararat one day long ago-- and these descendents appear to know their job, to herald eternal hope for all humanity—officious and solemn this morning and every day. Or maybe they are just looking for rainbows.

A NEW DAY

2006-01-02T19:33:00.000-08:00

This is the first day of the New Year and of all the rest of our lives. What have we carried forward from past days, and years? It has been said that an economist is a man who knows a great deal about very little, and who goes along knowing more and more about less and less, until finally he knows practically everything about nothing. So it is with me, and so it probably is with many others if we expect to become any wiser. Those who have attained a majority of years might try it for themselves. Think back to ages eighteen or twenty—recall how wise and knowing we were then. I would like to be so smart once again, if only for an hour. That is, of course, only about as long as such wisdom can bear the light of this day. If the truth be told, we learn more and more of how much we do not know, if we learn anything. How wise then, are the ones who finally recognize how little they know after all; and possibly also how relieved. (A case in point might be our Nation’s long-standing, revered economist Alan Greenspan. Unburdening himself of his great responsibilities only last year, beyond a couple of cautionary words he demonstrated admirable brevity in recommending very little for the future, clearly a wiser chairman). Here it is day two of this New Year and we have been facing the elements as never before; prior learning is not always immediately applicable to this unprecedented onslaught of air, earth, fire and water. Winds and floods, mud-slides and flames rage out of control as never before. We must learn new ways to cope, but where does one look for knowledge we have not yet learned? Here I am reminded of a line spoken by Reb Tevye when asked just how their ancient Jewish customs and traditions came to be the way they are. With wonder and almost joyfulness in his voice he says, “Well, I’ll tell you, I don’t know”! This ordinary man was expressing his wonder and glory for God, who already knows what is unfolding—and how inadequate our own understanding is beside it. He was evidently glad that God’s greatness is regularly proven by how far short of such reasoning we mortals fall. For wisdom we might do well to heed Matthew 6:33 wherein he says, “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness”. All else will follow.

A WINTER'S TALE

2005-11-29T20:25:00.000-08:00

He was far from an imposing figure, standing there beside the dumpster; gaunt, rather ragged, and apparently down on his luck. I had glimpsed him first out in back of the apartment complex and finally dared to observe aloud, from a comfortable distance, that the weather was colder than usual, to which he heartily agreed. It was not common to see someone scrounging around near the garbage cans so late in the evening, and recent reports of identity theft lent some bravado to my curiosity. His manner, as I thought about it, seemed unexpectedly out-going, even amicable, so I ventured again, asking how life had been treating him; in the mood to hear a hard luck story or two at this juncture, my own life was proceeding easily enough. Gifts were all bought, the larder was full; the season was well in hand.

The lean and lanky stranger indicated that his condition was about as it had been for a long time. He explained that his present quest was for extra food and clothing which might be given to needy folks round about. The pickings are good here, he said, and added that it had been so very much worse recently in places like Sri Lanka, Africa, Pakistan, Florida, or New Orleans. Have you really been to those places I asked in surprise? That’s my job, he said, I visit people down on their luck and offer condolences, words of hope and of course, help wherever I can. But what kind of job is that? I asked, and added gratuitously that the working conditions must surely be grubby and hard. Well, he said, that is the way poor people have to live, and so do I--some have lost their jobs, their houses, some are still living in barns along with the cattle—and by the way, are you going to be giving something for the less fortunate ones this year? On hearing this I froze up a bit, inwardly at least, as that familiar old pitch for a hand-out was sure to follow. The man then remarked: In the past I have had easier jobs, but this is today. His form in the late evening gloom had begun, oddly, to take on a sort of glow, lighting the dark spaces around him. You see, he went on, once I was just a simple shepherd—now I am a messenger of the Lord, and my work is to show the light to a dark world. But what is that light, I stammered, beginning to think I might have a madman on my hands. The News, he responded, the Good News found in The Word! Many have yet to see the light. My companions and I first saw it so very long ago, a bright star high above a hillside, and I have been journeying ever since to tell the story. Mostly I talk to people who are to be greatly blessed, but as long as I’m here I may as well tell you, too. Unto us a child is born…

And all you dear ones know the rest of the story, so it is Merry Christmas to each of you once again—and Love, Always.
nlk--2005

"Keep on loving each other as brothers. Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it." -- Hebrews 13: 1,2

REFLECTIONS ON THE GOLDEN RULE

2005-08-26T23:17:00.000-07:00

There are skeptics out there, but as generally understood, the rule clearly embodies ways to carry on our spiritual life, to say nothing of the social relations that go along with it. I had wondered about some of its practical applications. Within Christianity the tenet is quite emphatic and is conjoined at all points with the command to love one another; once committed to obedience however, there are apparently some built-in conditions that cannot be circumvented or ignored. Implicit among them is that I should be prepared to know myself and what I believe, at least to the extent of daring to anticipate what I want and need from others. And that is to say nothing of the parallel requirement to understand what and how much I can and will do for those others. Knowing one’s self is part of the problem, (as Pogo said, “We have met the enemy and it is us”). What about our inner life that goes right on, with its deeper resentments, flashes of spitefulness and built-in prejudices of one kind or another --to say nothing of pet hates and resentments crowding in on a daily basis? In short, what about the inner applications of this rule? Apparently there needs to be a silent counterpoint in place even more stringent than mere outward politeness or manners will insure. At this moment a racket from the street interrupts my meditations and brings me smartly to my feet ready to quell the intrusion with sharply worded remarks --oops! The awareness of a rule not quite learned reveals there is something lacking in the way of preparedness.

Even more daunting, it apparently follows that in order to act lovingly towards others, I must first regard myself in a loving way, at least in order to decide what loving ways are; that is, the way I would have others behave towards me. Could I imagine loving myself, really, even if I have heard that God does? Compared to the process of accepting others, including strangers, into my care-circle the difficulty is that I am acquainted with myself intimately and perhaps too well. A confounding condition may be that in expecting largess from others, I must truly strive for humility! As Golda Meir paraphrased an old Jewish joke, “What makes you think you’re good enough to be so humble?” But that does put a crimp in my expectations; if I manage to start from a humble place, presumably I can require only a limited amount from others; certainly not a lot in the way of luxury, praise or appreciation for everything I may do or say. If the need for approval is my bag, I am already probably out of luck –that is, after all, a ringer for the sin of vanity. I should probably not, therefore, leave to the generosity of others what are, (in my “humble” mind-set), sacrilegious wishes for the betterment of my own image. Let’s say I settle for the expectancy that others would at least share their companionship and joy, tolerate me when I want to be left alone, and offer group support. When I am in short supply I hope they will share what provisions they may have in excess of their needs, and provide care and attention if I should be ill or injured. My comprehensive wish-list would probably also include intercessory prayer and occasional help with heavy burdens or tasks–-and love. There is the concomitant hope, of course, that others intend to do me the way they do themselves. Paring the list down, however, it is clear by now that I should not try to garner the “Life of Riley” from those other participants.

Also, this issue unavoidably involves the matter of my doing something for those others. What can I offer --how much, and when? (Jesus made it very clear who my neighbors are). According to the “rule”, that would probably be close to what I think I want and need --do unto others the same. Here arises another snag: what about those others who I may feel are very different from me, the lepers, the street beggars of Calcutta, prisoners-–or the poor, sick and diseased in my own city? What should I offer to them, do for them, to what extent be a companion to them, and for how long? In short, the commandment to do unto others could prove to be a real stumbling block to my future life-style. Can it ever be done fully? If you are anything like this writer, no matter what inspirational good intentions have brought you to the point of commitment, there is that quietly gnawing undercurrent of self-doubt born of “knowing yourself”-–that all too human track-record. In facing limitations honestly and openly the impulse to give the whole thing up as a bad job is ready to hand--or worse, tailor it to one’s own inadequate short arms and shorter temper.

The “rule” is perfectly plain and simple in Scriptures. An ancient Rabbi was once ordered to recite the whole Koran while standing on one leg; he answered “Do nothing to others you would not want done unto you, all the rest are footnotes.” And hear what Christ your savior says in Mat.7:12, “In everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the law and the prophets.” Further, “Thou shall love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it. Thou shall love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

But it has been said that “Love your neighbor as yourself…is a radical notion, perhaps the most radical notion possible”. (Bill McKibben,The Christian Paradox, Harper’s Magazine, August 2005). This writer, himself a professed life-long Christian, notes that as a Christian nation in 1004, we fell behind sadly in comparison with other rich nations. “What if we chose some simple criterion—say, giving aid to the poorest people—as a reasonable proxy for Christian behavior? After all, in the days before his crucifixion, when Jesus summed up his message for his disciples, he said the way you could tell the righteous from the damned was by whether they’d fed the hungry, slaked the thirsty, clothed the naked, welcomed the stranger, and visited the prisoner”. McKibben adds that”Because it is so counterintuitive, (meaning unlikely to arise by ordinary human impulses. nlk), Christians have had to keep repeating it to themselves right from the start. Consider Paul, for instance, instructing the church at Galatia: ‘For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment,’ he wrote, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” Says McKibben, “The last shall be made first; turn the other cheek; a rich person aiming for heaven is like a camel trying to walk through the eye of a needle. On and on and on—a call for nothing less than a radical, voluntary, and effective reordering of power relationships, based on the principle of love.” It is true that this rule is not easily followed and many Christians lose sight of their purpose in this life. The way is littered with the blandishments of personal fame and fortune—or simply the needs of one’s own kith and kin—but it is not an impossible task.

One thing I know for sure about this rule, Jesus said it and I must follow it –and from Holy Scripture (Phil. 4:13) I know I can do everything in Christ, who strengthens me. Need we refer back to the loaves and the fishes? So what’s to worry? As directed by Him, we are to seek first His Kingdom, where we can find the wisdom we need! Your arms and your hearts, in fact your love, can now be joined with those of your Heavenly Father. Prayer will give strength and provisions you could never provide all by yourself. How wonderful is the news, through the presence of Jesus Christ our Lord, anything one may offer to others in love can be provided by a power greater than one’s own. So spend all your love, there is no limit except in your faith, and even that is God-given. What can be lost as long as we stand ready to give and receive with the Lord?

JOURNEY IN AND OUT OF TIME

2005-08-12T10:59:00.000-07:00

If it had not been for a piece by Jonathan Rosen titled Writer Interrupted, (about Henry Roth, in the The New Yorker, August 1, 2005, along with the word resurrection), I might never have looked at the poem on page 48. It is called The Edges of Time. What primed my bleary eye for such a thing was this comment by Rosen: “Life being what it is, this last stage of artistic recovery is accompanied by the physical collapse of the reborn artist, whose health woes are chronicled with excruciating fidelity. (Roth is among the few novelists--one thinks of Saul Bellow in his last novel, “Ravelstein”--who have entered old age wearing a headlamp.)” At my stage of life physical collapse hardly ranks large on the list of fun topics, but maybe that is why this poem also caught my eye.

A “headlamp” indeed. Most popular writings about the trials and noble ailments of aging appear, to my nervous grasp at least, to be poorly disguised, sentimentalized carping--hardly suitable for mixed company. The theme somehow puts me in mind of the overly-ogled English rhyme Advice to Young Maiden Ladies on Making the Best Use of Their Time, which begins, “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, for time is fast afleeting.” Like romanticized old age, it is after all clearly a ploy to elicit emotional favors without regard for the quality of life before or after. But listen to these words; a real-life, but almost Godless awareness of aging at The Edges of Time, by Kay Ryan:

It is at the edges
that time thins.
Time which had been
dense and viscous
as amber suspending
intentions like bees
unseizes them. A
humming begins,
apparently coming
from stacks of
put-off things or
just in back. A
glittering fan of things
competing to happen,
brilliant and urgent
as fish when seas
retreat.

The time we live in every day may be compared to an ocean alright, but at its edges, when it is almost gone, it no longer lifts and holds one up. Here in its lonely shallows it is littered with unfulfilled tasks half promised, at least to ones self. What about those worthless, adored keepsakes in old boxes, adored by no one else, and papers, even documents, that should be set aside for other eyes and interests--those photos not yet pasted in mute albums? Those stories still untold, memories unshared and unperfected; unprofessed love, and those deeper slithery things still not adequately forsworn. Once easily brushed aside, they now assume urgencies and a glitter that refuses to go back into their nearly forgotten places. At the thin, drying edges of time all it’s former life forms briefly struggle to keep alive, to float as before, desperately pushing back against that last tide. During this short and fitful struggle what is emerging, fanning out ahead?

Here at it’s edges, it is apparent as never before that time is running out; it had always seemed so endless, sometimes even monotonous and yes, endless until it’s edges came into view. What does become clearer is that time can stop! Time is a fleshly finite thing after all. It becomes clear that time is contained within eternity—but eternity may also be glimpsed within time, if one looks for it. This is not an essay on time, as such—that would be too grandiose a task—but the words of C. S. Lewis get at the meaning of glimpses of eternity during a lifetime: “Earth ,I think, will not be found by anyone to be in the end a very distinct place. I think earth, if chosen instead of heaven, will turn out to have been, all along, only a region in Hell; and earth, if put second to heaven, to have been from the beginning a part of heaven itself”. (From The Great Divorce,1945). The essential question now, at the edges of time as we know it, is what can be glimpsed of a farther, unknown, shore? As Lewis suggests, choosing only a fleshly, earthen life yields a different outcome from choosing it’s spiritual path; none the less, when time runs out, eternity begins—and what we then behold is already familiar in some small part. As the waters of time on earth recede, glimpses of eternity, no matter how brief, begin to follow accordingly—can anyone say more than that?

POPULAR CULTURE AND BRAIN FUNCTION

2005-06-16T19:50:00.000-07:00

There are those who will see this title as faintly oxymoronic, but it is presented here in all seriousness. Sailing through current cultural waters is not always plain or clear; to many of us who have lived long enough to know other times (and other places) it is at least apparent that “The times they are a changing…” as they always appear to do. It is also obvious that many things that are considered to be new and innovative are the old things garbed in the latest fashions. This should come as a surprise to no one, but consider for the moment the charge that in the old day’s people were more repressive and hypocritical than at present, especially about sexual practices, sexual openness, public cursing and racial issues, to name a couple of sensitive spots. (Leaving aside age differences for the moment, perhaps their prerogative, some members of my generation may claim to see clearly “how fast everything is going straight to Hell”). But the same considerations about underlying feelings apply to the social management of aggression. The differences are shown primarily in terms of which values are suppressed and which values are in plain view.

A tendency has been noted for people at large to maintain their old ways at all costs: “The two enemies of reform are the knaves who oppose it and the fools who favor it” (Anon). It has also been said that most people prefer old problems to new solutions. Taken together these tendencies, along with the viability of the ideas presented above, may work to maintain an anachronistic, inner neural and emotional stability, within an apparently changeful external world.
Behind one series of shifts of cultural focus however, there appears a more puzzling level of complexity, i.e., the infusion, engulfment and wholesale take-over of almost every phase of what passes for popular culture by the field of entertainment. While not essentially peculiar to the U.S. or to this century, in terms of public adulation of well known figures, we seem to have gone whole-hog for being mesmerized out of thinking about much other than circus-circus. In the early days of silent movies, Valentino, Chaplin, Fairbanks and Pickford to name a couple of then, and still beloved, “artists” were literally mobbed at any public appearance, here or abroad, and they probably helped give rise to comments such as: “Celebrity-worship and hero-worship should not be confused. Yet we confuse them every day, and by doing so we come dangerously close to depriving ourselves of all real models.” (Pulitzer prize-winner Daniel Boorstin,1974). If nothing else, this may warn us that celebrity-worship should be approached with caution -- more of them might actually be elected to public office.

Before WWII many “celebrity” publications consisted of cheaply made, frequently rather poorly printed exposé’s of a small number of popular film stars and their movies, together with “gossip” purporting to reveal vaguely shady and presumably sensational life styles. These ran about neck-and-neck in readership with True Story magazine and True Romances. (The word “true” was taken seriously only by hard-core users). Shades of Randolph Hearst’s love-life! Now grown to mega-media proportions, it may be the force behind the hordes of their progeny having now burgeoned into the predominate and overflowing content of every form of public presentation – internet included – with detailed accounts of dating practices, marriages, divorces, pregnancies, narcissistic love or hate spats, drugged, drunken or neurotic escapades – displayed together with glittering photos of popular entertainers in expensive clothing with partially bared body parts. These “come-on’s” are not confined to checkout counters; they often consist of frantically beckoning, attractively gotten up images from drama, stage and movies, comedic arts, popular music --and the musicians, now inhabiting most TV offerings up to and including the “these messages” slots; (advertising has been described as the science of arresting human intelligence long enough to get money from it; what better setting?) and there is a peculiar scavenging of material for “news” programs which, because the big networks also are heavily invested in the manufacture of most current entertainment, amounts to a kind of cannibalism that then engages in a process of regurgitation.

We thus see previews, along with other news, bits of the features themselves, (together with current box-office sales), and then the résumé’s, over and over again. In time they will all be repeated, (not to mention “Oscar” and “Grammy” award nights that are strung out for weeks), in case any one of us suffers unmet voyeuristic needs. We are talking “popular” here, as in People Magazine; if it has sold before it will sell again – and vive the sexual/moralistic revolution – lending an unfounded touch of intellectual class to the whole mind-numbing process. Popular is in, private is out. Artist and artistry is in, fine art, now a mere whisper, seems to be mostly out. We are being neither elitist here, (nor anti-sexuality, heaven forbid), nor are we alone in these views: A New Yorker Magazine writer, Ken Auletta, in an interview with U.S. News and World Report (Mar. 15, 2004, p. 20) appears to concur: “Why does it seem as if there aren’t slow news days anymore? Answer: One reason is the manufacturing of non-news into news. We’re preoccupied with ratings. Editors and owners are worried that there are so many news sources, and they want to get people’s attention. So we cover Martha Stewart like she’s World War III. …They (publishers) know this is a society where if your name is well known, you benefit, even if it is known for the wrong reasons, …It’s Joey Buttafuoco all over again. …It’s a freak show”.

As they say on Madison Avenue, “There is no such thing as “bad” publicity”. For a look at what may be served up as news, in Time of March 1, 2004, staff writer Poniewozik under the heading, WELCOME BACK, CAPOS, wrote about the HBO show “The Sopranos”, which was supposed to be ending that season. He reported the show’s creator (David Chase) “says he doesn’t want the show to repeat itself. And the gracious thing would be to…admire his artistic integrity and thank him for the memories. But on behalf of those (viewers) who are greedy and not gracious, let me remind Mr. Chase that he is making a freaking TV show. TV repeats itself—that’s what it’s for. Bad shows do it badly, and great shows like The Sopranos do it so well you hardly notice. Every season, New Jersey mob boss Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) outwits his rivals and deceives his family, friends and therapist, all while remaining oblivious to his failings. His marriage to Carmela (Edie Falco) unravels as he chases anything with legs and hair spray and she pursues sad, unconsummated flirtations.” The writer, apparently confident in his predictions asks, “Anybody got a problem with that?” Not if you are into popular stuff like this show, apparently, but the problem may be that it is indeed so popular, (and then too, Italian-American “profiling” could still be OK in New Jersey). We are left to muse over why the term “freak” should pop up in both reviews.

But having gotten some of this “off our chest” for the moment, and if not thereby alienating all potential readers, now is the time to confess where ideas for this writing were generated – the boob-tube News, of course. Two items of general interest caught my eye and ear in a moment of lowered chagrin. The first had to do with what seemed to constitute the blackballing from certain air waves of the allegedly infamous “smut peddler” Howard Stern; the action was apparently taken by media executives who presented it as being in the interests of the public weal. From what I could gather this announcement resulted in fitful, and expected, arousal of passions surrounding the issue of freedom of speech, or at least freedom of smut, and echoed right up to and through the halls of congress. The second, following immediately, had to do with taking pet dogs along with the rest of the family on fairly extended vacations to the great open spaces. Clearly proponents of this practice, the presenters assured us our city dogs especially, though less accustomed during the remainder of the year to unleashed exercise, would return from such hearty running and romping for longer periods over the fields in better health and spirits.

Now I don’t want to be a protagonist here. Not belonging to either in-group absolves me of such a role; I have not read or listened to Stern, and while entitled still to be a dog lover, I am not a dog owner (too lazy). But there are commonalities; for one thing my own area of interest tells me Stern and the dog and I are possessed of similar mammalian brains. Harking back to some elementary studies, specifically the venerable Papez-MacLean theory of emotions, it is understood that while intellectual functions are carried on in the newer (sic), highly developed part of the brain, our emotional behavior is sometimes dominated by a “crude, primitive system”—older structures that were assumed to have undergone very little change “in the whole course of evolution from mouse to man” (MacLean,1973 -- Briefly, this theory involves the limbic system with its connections from the reticular activating formation and from the brain stem -- if one wants to get a little more specific. As a whole, the limbic system has been associated with four primary functions: memory, sense of smell, autonomic visceral functions, and emotional behavior. Bear with me on this.)

As is usually the case, the evolutionary implications here are gratuitous; no hard evidence is furnished demonstrating metamorphosis from one life form to the other. While research into microevolution is, especially in the study of under-water microorganisms, fairly clear in showing the changes in functional life forms as endowed by their creator, claims of macroevolution, i.e., monkey uncles, have never been shown to have occurred within the annals of scientific comparative research. In earlier days cultural anthropologists such as Franz Boaz [1891], had a tougher row to hoe; they were up against the lavishly and imaginatively drawn figures of creatures from mice, “up” through apes, to variously endowed “racial types”, humanoid figures of a less and less bent-over biped stance, from which white men of our father’s and grandfather’s day could easily find where their place and social destiny belonged (See Harper’s, March, 2004). Happily this skullduggery, (based often on spurious data from skull measurements) is hopefully being stored away in the mustier closets of natural history, though it still hangs about in the shadows of prejudice and superstition. Mammals do have generally similar brain structure, which might just as easily suggest that when a workable model was provided during the process of creation it was not discarded. Together with the history of The Fall, however, just how workable all this has been is still the subject of sometimes bitter debate.

It is precisely because of the human brain and its organization that we could become lost beyond recall as a species, according to Arthur Koestler, Budapest/Viennese cum American novelist who has written very cogently on scientific topics (Janus; Looking backward, 1978). Because of a superimposed modern neocortex over a more “primitive”, largely unchanged “old” brain, humankind is unable to refrain from going to war with fellow human beings – and finally to becoming self destructive in the use of our own (left hemispheric), sophisticated weaponry. The human brain with which we are endowed may conquer external nature, but may be conquered in turn by the ancient and destructive foe within. Koestler sees an “ontogenetic” principle showing humans to be victims of some subordinate part of this mental hierarchy, which in turn exerts a tryrannical rule over the whole. He posits a situation where “Aberrations of the human mind” due to some obsessional pursuit of a part- truth masquerading as a whole truth, leads to sub-level emotional overload; “In rage and panic the sympathico-adrenal apparatus takes over from the cortical centers which normally control behavior. When sex is aroused the gonads seem to take over from the brain.” (ibid, 1978).
Since Koestler is clear on the implications of his “ontogenetic principle”, as in “ontology follows phylogeny”, he too tends to see things in Darwinian terms. It is certainly true that people can behave in self- destructive ways, (as did Koestler himself, who had led a life much like the novels he probably wrote for Hollywood, such as Darkness at Noon, with stints in the Spanish underground and the French Foreign Legion). Koestler died by his own hand in a suicide pact with his wife in 1983. However, his kind of orientation, far from providing clarification, at most implies the possibility of a sort of emergent process within a given species, producing alterations that are not inconsistent genetically and are usually clearly linked to observable cultural or environmental changes. While exhibiting synthesis, they do not constitute some upward spiraling, future-pointing form. “There is nothing in emergent evolution that purports to be strictly naturalistic, (or) that precludes an acknowledgment of God.” (C. Lloyd Morgan. In Emergence, London, Williams and Norgate,1923). As in zoology 101, Chevalier de Lamark (1816) found by long effort at demonstrating acquired traits, no matter how many mice tails he cut off no short-tailed types occurred.

Yet from another standpoint relative to intra-cerebral clashes it has been surmised that “the conflict between the need to belong to a group and the need to be seen as unique and individual is the chief struggle of adolescence”. Pertinent thereto are recent findings in fMRI (frequency Magnetic Resonance Imaging) studies showing an unexpected increase in growth of cortical, prefrontal brain cells, the most lavish since infancy, during early adolescence. (Giedd, J., NATURE, March 9, 2000). The prefrontal cortex “acts as the CEO of the brain, controlling planning, working memory, organization, and modulating mood…. (it has been) dubbed the area of sober second thought”. Perhaps the prefrontal cortex can be seen as a culturally developing foil for the “primitive” brain). Researchers conclude from these findings that “If a teen is doing music, sports or academics, those are the connections that will be hard wired. If they are lying on the couch or playing video games or MTV, those are the cells and connections that are going to survive.” These are seen as the areas of main involvement for the rest of the young person’s life. (One may speculate that those kids who want to be particularly “cool”, shocking, rude or just attention-getting might find characters like Howard Stern a convenient vehicle. Unfortunately, if they become too deeply involved they may be the carriers of our next cultural trappings – bringing what they have studied so closely into the rest of their lives and the lives of others, to say nothing of a possible trail of gang violence from the “hood”).

Considerations such as these refer us to other studies in brain function effects done by sociologists, and also to split-brain research by central nervous system experts in the study of brain behavior. In the literature of bilateral hemispheric, affective, functioning there are implications for complex human behavior, as in the work of Warren TenHouten (1985) at UCLA. He applied the theory of cerebral lateralization to the sociology of knowledge. His work takes off from the ground-breaking studies of Bogen and Bogen, (1969, ff.), who conducted early surgeries in “split-Brain” patients. TenHouten quotes Emil Durkheim on the “constitutional duality of human nature”, (roughly Koestler’s theme, above): “The old formula homo duplex is therefore verified by the facts. Far from being simple, our inner life has something like a double center of gravity. On the one hand is our individuality – and, more particularly, our body in which it is based; on the other is everything in us that expresses something other than ourselves”.

TenHouten applied these ideas to a study of economic organization in modern society and it’s cognitive styles, but for our purposes he states: ”The two modes of thought Durkheim saw as characterizing the human mind have parallels in the relationship between self and society. At one pole we find the society within the consciousness of the individual; at the other pole, the individual’s consciousness within the society. This distinction … parallels Bogen’s speculation … that each hemisphere represents its own other and the world in complementary mappings, such as that the left hemisphere maps the self as a subset of the world, and the right hemisphere maps the world as a subset of the self.” If this reasoning seems complex, one can imagine the struggle that each teen-ager must be going through in order to achieve the needed feeling they belong to a group, and yet feel individual and unique. All this at the same time the prefrontal cortex of each differentiated hemisphere is expanding rapidly, puberty is being established and barely settled in – and when they are often urged off to war.

To take a closer look at the process of acculturation in the context of brain behavior, elementary theory and practice from social-psychological studies are instructive. Personal experience in using an old class-room “trick”, in both the United States and England, demonstrates that certain behavioral responses are predictable. People pulled in off the street would probably work as well, but for convenience’s sake one may “round up the usual suspects” --the university level class of perhaps 40 people or so, divide them into two groups which are then usually nearly equivalent in terms of ages, sex, socio-economic grouping, intelligence and educational level. Next send group A and group B to separate rooms with no communication between the two. Each person (or subject) is provided with the same list of 10 or 12 community figures such as lawyers, doctors, technical workers, nurses, etc.; each list also contains the term politicians as one of those community figures.

Group A is told that they are to rank these personages in terms of their value to their community. It is noted by the instructor, as an example, that students across the country at the same grade level as group A tended to rank politicians quite highly. Exactly the same instructions are given to group B, except one word only is changed: the word “low” is substituted for the word “highly”. With rare exception the resulting differences in ranking of politicians between the two groups are not only in the expected direction, the differences often reach statistical significance.

This is an elementary, (and old), propaganda device called The Bandwagon effect, as in, “get on board, every body is doing it”. A similar device was used in the Milgram study noted below: The Voice of Authority, as when General so-and-so does something “it is OK for me to do it too”. Leaving aside the scariness of how easily opinion polls or other behavior may be manipulated, deeper implications appear when the subjects are asked why they ranked politicians as they had. Invariably those subjects who had ranked pols highly said their thoughts had turned to the more statesman-like personalities in the news, while subjects in the
“low-value” group B said they had thought of the likes of Tammany hall ward heelers. In other words, you do not have to get people to change their minds about anything in order to alter their behavioral responses; they will comply simply by selecting a compatible response from the total range of culturally defined meanings. They will not only rationalize their answer, but will feel quite righteous in the process.

The point here is that we can in this way see how acculturation works; having been socialized to the extent of identifying with, (or against), certain social groups, people often find that their ideas of right and wrong, or good and bad, come with the territory. Furthermore they are usually convinced that most of it is their own idea. All the while our brains store these concepts and ideas in special ways in order to, among other things, keep us feeling sane. (That is what “rationalizing” means). In this process the intellectual functioning of the upper reaches of our brain are constantly influenced by the “lower” realms, said to belong to the crocodile and the horse as well as to us humans. This brings us back to the dog if not to Howard Stern.

In my neighborhood dogs are mostly well behaved, in dog owner terms, and usually leashed anyway. Through puppydom and even beyond some can be foolishly loving and friendly to a fault toward strangers as well as family and friends. It is difficult at times not to notice, though they maintain an air of confident, companionable abandonment, their forthright and frequent public production of excrement. There are also the uninhibited sexual liaisons, or at least earnest attempts, nothing daunted by the discomfiture often expressed by human onlookers. Our beloved pets can also sometimes aggressively snap or bite. All this may be traced to the effects of a paucity of cortical (inhibitory) brain structure and failure to automatically acquire our socially acceptable, “nicer” traits; if the noble animal assumes that we humans do these same things too, it is of course being more reasonable than perhaps we deserve, but in the absence of specific intensive training they still fail to acquire our cultural inhibitions (or what seems to be left of them). Dutiful owners, however, follow along with plastic bags and scoops even if their pets vaguely wonder about their master’s sense of values; they protect their own floors and at least harvest gratitude from neighbors, while giving interceptive tugs on the leash. The owner thus becomes the cerebral cortex, conscience, or superego, if you will, of the creature already possessed of an excellent, standard model, no frills, “more primitive” mammalian brain.

Our own model has more bells and whistles; we feel and do the same as our canine soul mates and more, only with a weather eye out for what other people, or our consciences, will say about it. Wolves and dogs are social animals and like humans, tend to congregate in groups. They are however, relatively unburdened by our culture, popular or otherwise. Perhaps I belabor the obvious here, but it should be clear that our cultural features are acquired and learned; other creatures seem severely limited in the ability to acquire extended social characteristics, Clever Hans the Wonder Horse not excepted.

When we wish to consider the “higher” intellectual functions of the human brain, what comes to mind (no pun intended) is the capacity for cognition including synthesis, fantasy, and symbolism usually associated with “creative” expressions. Special areas of the brain have been carefully mapped out and isolated where these functions are at least mediated, and they play starring roles in our notions of culture (Arieti, 1976). Lest we forget, there are present also areas of reasoning, judgment and memory for past learning (and past errors). After an emotional storm, including wrong behavior, we can usually say, at least inwardly, “I knew all the time it was not right”. But are these brain areas separate and exclusive from the phylogenetic more primitive brain of fight, flight and lust shared by our four footed cohabitants? This question involves the aforementioned limbic system which, as it turns out, is pervasive throughout the brain -- so much so that some writers appeared to give up on the idea of any specificity for its functions. Researchers (Weil, et al. 1974) stated,…”before we become discouraged with the concept of the limbic system we should examine closely the question of whether or not affect itself pervades all aspects of behavior. We obviously believe that it does on both the sensory and motor sides of the coin.”

There is no reason, therefore, to think of some parts of the brain as becoming non-functional and in a disconnected state, while other parts function all alone. In the living and intact organism all parts of the brain and it’s neural centers hum right along, no matter what; some parts may just be “sleepier” than others. As with the adolescents above, we can entertain two (or more) cerebral crusades at the same time.

It should be obvious, however, that even though it resides there, our cultural identity does not come from the brain itself: it comes to us from our human environment. There is enough evidence for example from studies of feral children, (Candland, D.K., 1993), a subject perhaps not getting much press lately, demonstrating stunted growth and development when a surrounding social group is absent. Children adopted into cultures different from that of their parents amply reflect how little is carried away with them in terms of language, values and beliefs. (There are also those of us who are convinced that we were stolen at birth, or shortly thereafter, from rich and famous homes by Gypsies. The conviction becomes more pronounced during teen-age years when it is realized that we were, in fact, given into the hands of crude and unfeeling peasants who are notably mean and miserly in matters of the family car.)
Emotions, and the temperament that goes with them, do appear early on in life and thus are most likely brain-related in special ways. They may profoundly influence our cultural attitudes and beliefs; efforts at tapping these features in various populations often have taken the form of scales, or questionnaires, ideally administered by experienced social scientists, in an attempt to tease out the underlying nature or origin of our belief systems. Following the interest in the “trait” of authoritarianism with the widely used “f scale” by T. H. Adorno, et al, (measuring fascist tendencies during the 1940’s), Milton Rokeach (1960, ff), developed a scale to measure social preferences entitled the Dogmatism, or “Dog” scale. While probably not revealing many hard wired character traits, the scale did show our strong tendency to prefer to socialize, and live or join with people or groups seen as most like the way we perceive ourselves to be; (among our extreme end groups in those days were Arabs and Islamic fundamentalists). This scale had the added usefulness of measuring political attitudes and racial or ethnic bias.
But let’s get back to Howard Stern, and hopefully, some cerebral relatedness. For one thing, I cannot imagine Stern doing his “schtick” without carrying in his head at one and the same time, a profound appreciation for what he may regard as the prudes and straight-laced “hypocrites” out there in radioland. He, along with his aficionados, could not enjoy the genital and anal, in-your-face preoccupation nearly as much without picturing, somewhere in their own heads, a large segment of the audience exhibiting shock or disapproval. In that sense, the “Sterns” of this world (there should be a play on the words for back-sides and nether regions here), vitally need their cultural opposites, (or perhaps we could say “fore-parts”), in order to exist at all.
This thinking takes us along a path suggesting the need we have for others (the existential “Other”), in order to develop an identity of our own; contrary to Koestler and Durkheim, this path most likely represents dialectic relationships rather than dualistic ones, (concepts which have already been dealt with exhaustively by certain Nordic and German philosophers, antedating but possibly anticipating, this present writing). For our purposes however, Stern’s activation of the higher brain centers, right along with expressing the “primitive” body functions, demonstrates how you can’t do one without the other. A dialectic relationship presumes that each polar opposite needs the other to exist, and will eventually be joined together with the other in some future resolution. Again, like the teen-agers, apparently opposite “projects” in cerebral centers wend their way to some consensual conclusion, so be supportive of those kids as they try to find that way. It is maintained here that throughout the ebb and flow of popular cultural change over the ages, it is safe to say the brain, together with its various component parts, performs much the same duties no matter what social context is presented to it.
In a particular era, say the late Victorian of most of the western world, certain sexual behaviors (together with their symbolism) may be stringently held in suppressed, or pre-conscious or even repressed, “unconscious” check, within cognitive mazes of the mind-- a word signifying brain + culture, (which may be much more than that, but not less). Proceeding through Edwardian times, through the industrial revolution to the 1920’s, a reversal in attitudes begins to take place as many younger people suppress their learned cultural inhibitions in order join in -- and more importantly fit in, with their most “popular” peers (as they did with their lusty superiors in Edward’s court). And so it goes back and forth; during seasons of change, and between dissimilar or warring groups, the “upper” cerebral centers play a reciprocal hide-and seek with the “lower” centers sometimes in the form of outright denial), and with the current group-culture of one’s peers, be they gang, neighborhood, political party or nation.

So this is of course why it may be said that people these days are as repressed and hypocritical as ever they were. Those tendencies are obdurate and durable because to change them one must change ones entire identity to a greater or lesser degree. That is a little like asking a leopard to change its spots, especially since the leopard may see no compelling reason to do so. In the case of human socio-cultural identity such a change often requires us to join the “enemy”, or at least the opposition. When it occurs we may often then realize that God can do amazing things; He can even induce us to change into his loving children!

ADDENDUM (and stray thoughts)

Of the social elements that can apparently redirect attitudes, beliefs and cultural orientation, one’s religion, or lack of it is most prominent throughout world history. Especially in times of crisis, personal or world-wide, people go through changes in spiritual interests and concerns; either at the urging of authorities, or voluntarily, there is frequently a change in faith. Ancient Jews, for example, became much more Messianic after the fall of their temple in 70 BC; (they were particularly hopeful for the advent of a Messiah with military skills). As “fate or fortune” would have it, today in the midst of increased interest in the Bible and an unprecedented growth in church attendance – and our concern here with culture and the field of entertainment – comes the passion film by Mel Gibson.

I have not seen it nor do I plan to do so, but from the many reviews both pro and con, Gibson has done something outstanding, not only for Hollywood, but in the annals of entertainment history; he deserves much credit for that. Language is a powerful cultural medium and in order to understand it’s meaning it is useful to go to historical roots --this approach might be helpful in parsing the film. For example there is the Anglo-American penchant for showmanship; “ballyhoo” is an inspirational art, as P. T. Barnum proved. He knew the value of passing out samples and free passes to the right people. And there is the attraction of a well-known, dedicated actor who has specialized in violent action pictures. His previous work is said to have been lavish in blood-letting scenes traditionally surrounding good-guys versus evil villains, (but he cannot be held accountable for doing what Hollywood always insists upon as rites of passage). Gibson implies that he was directed by heavenly influences in order to carry out this “Biblical” production. Apparently not a newcomer to religion, he has a Catholic background and has evidently done some Bible reading – he remarked how very pleased he was to see how “Marian” his film turned out.

Evangelical Christians, who have not always been sympathetic to Catholic iconography, are reported to have attended in “droves”. In spite of side-line complaints about its free-wheeling interpretations and narrow focus on a torturous, drawn-out death unrelieved by the rest of the Gospel, it is accepted as a really important, brand new “entertainment” product with a message. In fact, it appears to be rather an astounding achievement. Cultural binding was not mentioned here before, but the powerful limitations this imposes keeps most of us within the close confines of the ideological space we occupy throughout life – new paradigms and totally new ideas are rare; while clearly emerging from it, most new ideas bear the stamp of all the rest of our popular culture. Besides, as a famous economist once said, (Galbraith) “Most new ideas are bad ones” – Gibson’s is apparently not a bad one. He is dealing in a medium that produces something truly new only once every thirty years or so, (“talking pictures” being one of them), and the public reaction to his work, mostly word-of-mouth, is rarer still; then too, there is the precedent setting box-office!

It remains to be seen whether the Lord is turning all of it into something also essentially good for the long run, but a further word about brain effects: Gibson himself noted, as did others, the most immediate reaction to seeing the Passion is a profound silence. That seems to be the effect of witnessing two hours devoted to the writhing under extremely painful, deadly wounds inflicted by arrogant and intentionally cruel executioners upon the body of a beloved figure of surpassing kindness – and bearer of hope for our immortal souls. Perhaps the very notoriety may bring in pre-believers, who might thereby get a taste of how His followers “who did not yet call themselves Christians”, may have reacted; it is not likely that many viewers will leave the theater as from the regular cinema fare, or even a powerful Sunday sermon, gushing, “O, I just adored it”! There is surely a moment or two of cognitive dissonance, requiring time to erect neural defenses against images of the raw behavior of our more “primitive brain”, -- as the “higher” cortical centers begin to permit us to gulp down the terrible effrontery of our sins, seen there weighing heavily upon the cross. These are the centers that also become glazed-over during the showing itself.

Over periods of more prolonged exposure to severe scenes or experiences of painful and repeated wounds adaptation occurs, so that bigger and sharper pains are required to achieve the same degree of shock. That is why professional torturers are trained in confining “camps” with long periods of pain, insult and degradation to self and others, and little time-out from the task. (Also a strong reason not to raise young children with insult and injury as behavior-modifier’s). Executions, such as hangings, have been carried out in public long before news became a media, and sensationalism always drew crowds of onlookers. Even the more “high-minded” of us have trouble pulling away from a spectacle of disaster in the street. This reaction is probably linked with self-preservation; if there is danger out there we want to see it coming, if only for “the next time”. In terms of entertainment, circuses in the Roman coliseum catered to a similar mixture of thrill/repugnancy and serious study-oriented curiosity, with a covert concern by spectators about how they might themselves go through the same fates. Another category drawing interested on-lookers is that of the flagellants who whip themselves till blood flows in the streets --or the “pilgrims” who crawl on raw, bleeding hands and knees, intent on demonstrating contrition by experiencing some of the misery of Jesus.

Here it is maintained that human cultural trends always seem to demand an ebb and flow from higher to lower brain centers, spanning from one era to another. It was reported that Johannes Sebastian Bach, in composing his St. Matthew’s Passion, was so aware (circa 1740) of possible anti-Semitic overtones, that he made sure that his entire chorus, Jew, Gentile, assorted rabble and Romans, cried out for crucifixion. The prestigious journal of the American Medical Association, (JAMA 225, No. 11, 1986), Published an article, The Crucifixion of Jesus, in which the details of his death, as it might have occurred from a medical perspective – including prolonged flagellation -- was described in terms very similar to Gibson’s Passion. Did he read it before the filming? In his place I might not have proceeded –I don’t have the stomach for it. It is said that the film brings home more profoundly what the Son of Man went through in absolving us of our sins. Personally I sometimes find it difficult to read through parts of the first four Gospel crucifixions, even though thanks be to God, the Good News is included therein.

POPULAR CULTURE AND THE BRAIN – REPRISE

2005-06-12T21:47:00.000-07:00

Men never do evil so fully and so happily as when they do it for conscience’s sake. Blaise Pascal, (Pensees, 1660).

An essay on relationships between brain function and social-cultural behavior was begun in March of 2004, (before the news of failures by U.S. military personnel to abide by the Geneva Convention in our military prisons or the televised murder of Nicholas Berg by beheading, became uncommon currency). Also noted was this well known quote from Blaise Pascal, which might have served to blunt some of the surprise following the news reports without doing much to cushion their shock or repugnance: In fact, all the pros and cons about who is responsible for such breeches of conduct were investigated at least 30 years before. That statement by Pascal is true of nearly all people at nearly all times, in varying degrees; psychologist Stanley Milgram demonstrated it in his landmark study “Perils of Obedience”, and Robert Jay Lifton wrote of it when describing the warm, affectionate home life of Nazi doctors who concurrently were conducting brutal experiments on prisoners of all ages in German concentration camps. He referred to this effect as “doubling”, the tendency to be two different people in disparate roles. An overview of such studies suggest the primary variables involved in taking on sadistic behaviors by most ordinary people appear to be: (1), The general development of one’s moral sense, or conscience, (2), how close to active consciousness, and how deeply impacted by a socialized conscience, is our emotional quotient for Sadism, and (3), how culturally and socially susceptible we are to authoritarian or to peer influences.

Phillip Zimbardo, past president of the American Psychological Association, is remembered for, among other works, a study he conducted in 1971entitled the Stanford Prison Experiment, in which a dozen bright, likeable students perpetrated Iraqi/U.S. prison-type torture and abuse on their “prisoners”. The latter were known by the perpetrators to be fellow students who were “imprisoned” for experimental purposes; one week into the study it had to be halted due to violent behavior, mostly on the part of the “guards”. There were outspoken fears of irreversible effects by the observers, who feared for their own susceptibility to long standing emotional repercussions.

In that day and age, in the context of the death of prisoner George Jackson, killed in San Quentin, and other news similar to that of the Attica prison riots of 1971, the Stanford Prison Experiment was indeed “newsworthy”. It told the world how “ordinary people, middle-class college students, can do things they would have never believed they were capable of doing. It seemed to say, as Hannah Arendt said of Adolf Eichmann, that normal people can take ghastly action”. Answering an advertisement in the Palo Alto Times and following interviews and a battery of tests, the two dozen applicants judged to be the most normal, average, and healthy were randomly assigned to be either prisoners or guards. Zimbardo’s reasoning was given as an interest in focusing “on the power of roles, rules, symbols, group identity and situational validation of behavior that would repulse ordinary individuals…. I had been conducting research for some years on deindividuation, vandalism and dehumanization that illustrated the ease with which ordinary people could be led to engage in anti-social acts by putting them in situations where they felt anonymous, or they could perceive of others in ways that made them less than human, as enemies or objects”. (Toronto, 1996). Zimbardo had wondered, in the course of experiment planning, “…what would happen if we aggregated all of these processes, making some subjects feel deindividuated, others dehumanized within an anonymous environment in the same experimental setting, and where we could carefully document the process over time.” The study showed the development of danger to individuals early on; even though the Guards had been instructed not to use violence but maintain control of the prison, the “worst instances of abuse occurred in the middle of the night when the “guards” thought the staff was not watching …(and)resulted in extreme stress reactions that forced us to release five prisoners, one a day, prematurely.” Zimbardo told the Toronto Symposium in 1969 that his prison experiment “was both ethical and unethical”. It was unethical, he said, “because people suffered and others were allowed to inflict pain and humiliation on their fellows over an extended period of time. “And yes, although we ended the study a week earlier than planned, we did not end it soon enough.”

There is a current trend to account for such behaviors as “hard wired” or “genetically” ordained for some people, (see Whose Life Would You Save? Discover magazine, April, 2004), but the evidence remains poorly substantiated and highly impressed by a certain popular infatuation with electronic gadgetry. Developmental fantasies put forward by researchers about what human brain-behavior was like thousands of years ago still have no more credence today than does anybody else’s educated guess. In the otherwise impressive efforts to establish maps of localized brain functions, observing a particular neuronal response to experimental stimuli seems currently to congregate all attention onto an MRI scanner. Mapping of the more painstaking, perhaps pedestrian, effects of socialization and acculturation, to say nothing of concomitant personality variables, often tend to be almost ignored. Also often given short shrift are efforts to show developmental patterns of brain-behavior within various age-groups. The work of J. Giedd, (NATURE, March 9, 2000), showing a marked increase in growth of prefrontal brain cells in early teen years, using fMRI (frequency Magnetic Resonance Imaging), is a redeeming case in point.

In previously relating popular culture to brain function it was noted that while making such a connection might seem somewhat oxymoronic to some, it was and is presented in all seriousness. The perils of bias and cultural, time-binding effects are rampant in such ventures however; efforts at off-setting the major and more inevitable consequences were attempted in part by stating some of the biases and personal, probably idiosyncratic, opinions at the outset. For one thing it should come as no surprise to anyone that what are often considered to be new and innovative attitudes and practices may be old stuff garbed in the latest fashions. In particular the assumption that in “the old days” people were more repressive and hypocritical about their “true” feelings, especially about sexual practices, sexual openness in general, public cursing and ethnic preferences, to name a couple of sensitive spots. It was maintained here that in numerous ways it can be shown that people today are generally just as hypocritical and repressive about their underlying feelings and practices as ever they were; they just seem to be selecting different elements to repress, or veil. What is openly presented is in line with their current cultural values.

The same considerations apply to our social-cultural management of aggression; differences over time are shown primarily in terms of which values are suppressed and which values are in plain view. Not only Pascal, but Cesar Chavez, that nonviolent warrior, saw the underlying and overt relationship when he wrote in 1968, “In some cases, nonviolence requires more militancy than violence.” Their observations sheds some glimmer of light on the famed study conducted by Stanley Milgram in the late 1960s, sometimes titled “Perils of Obedience”. Milgram referred to the writings of Hannah Arendt, (1950), who asserted that evil, such as seen in Germany during the Holocaust, was perpetrated by very ordinary, run of the mill citizens under the various propagandist devices of German authority. The Milgram study showed this observation to be more than hypothetically true in terms of the resultant unbridled willingness of naïve U.S. persons selected at random, under the direction of white-coated, authoritarian, clip-board bearing experimenters, to administer torture in the form of apparently painfully disabling electric shock --to fellow human beings.

So who should bear the onus of guilt and criminal responsibility for lapses in humane treatment of prisoners? The guards are the perpetrators and should face some punishment, but as Phillip Zimbardo and others clearly demonstrated, it is a failure in taking proper, ordinary management of any detention center and its program that matters most. Whether it is a government such as one imbued with Nazi propaganda issues, or an entity overseeing prisoner detention in the most benign setting, it is always the fault of those responsible for guarding the guards from their own worst impulses.

OUT ON THE OCEAN --OR A SEA OF TROUBLES

2005-06-08T15:23:00.000-07:00

From my bedroom window, looking southwest through low clouds, the wintry sun seemed to be splashing its pale beams on an immense, cold Pacific --with little or no warming effect. A break in the in-rushing series of storms had only created a clearer scene of desolation; perhaps in these lulls between attacks we often see more clearly the power of an enemy. But after all, an important man in New Testament times, called Simon by Paul, and Cephas or Peter by Jesus, seemed to have gathered much needed strength during just these times; between the spiritual and worldly storms in those days, he may have had to look back several times to reassess his purposes.

New storms, --a sea of troubles --can wreak terrible havoc. Is it time to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them? Peter proved early in life to be quick to take arms. He had been devoted from his early Galilean years to await the advent of a Messiah with power to overcome persecution and suffering, the two biggest enemies in the only life with which he was familiar. Or should we rather bear those ills we have, than fly to others we know not of? Much of the time Peter had apparently expected a messiah who would strike down the cruel and aggressive Roman legions. The examples set by Jesus to bear the persecution, to undergo the suffering and agonies brought by others without protest, put Peter in a maelstrom of conflict and doubt. Through new storms of opposition and persecution, however, he became one who did in fact learn how to bear those ills.

Peter developed a powerful hope in the face of an imperfect world. It is clear that he did not regard it as a kind or friendly place; he must have often felt as if he were “a stranger in an alien land”, and his hope clearly could not come from there. As we see the hardship wrought in our own time by nature and by man in all parts of this globe it is just possible to see his point of view. Through violent insurgency, or reports of prisoner mis-treatment by all factions, or the tsunami-ravaged towns, villages and people who lived there, we also know this present planet and its ways all too well; from where did hope spring?

How does one find new ways in place of old ones? In the New Yorker, January 17, 2005, Dan Baum writes a piece entitled Battle Lessons, What the Generals Didn’t Know. Mainly this is a military-oriented article describing ways our fighting force can be deadlier to the enemy and more protective of our own --features which are invaluable in conducting a war. Baum notes that learning is taking place in the field and soldiers teach one another as they go. The first example he gives is, to this writer, awe inspiring and clearly unlearned behavior: “ Watching TV,” he recalls “On the morning of April 3rd, as the Army and the Marines were closing in on Baghdad, I happened to look up at what appeared to be a disaster in the making. A small unit of American soldiers was walking along a street in Najaf when hundreds of Iraqis poured out of the buildings on either side. Fists waving, throats taut, they pressed in on the Americans, who glanced at one another in terror. I reached for the remote and turned up the sound. The Iraqis were shrieking, frantic with rage. From the way the lens was lurching, the cameraman seemed as frightened as the soldiers. This is it, I thought. A shot will come from somewhere, the Americans will open fire, and the world will witness the My Lai massacre of the Iraq war. At that moment, an American officer stepped through the crowd holding his rifle high over his head with the barrel pointed to the ground. Against the back drop of the seething crowd, it was a striking gesture---almost Biblical. ‘Take a knee,’ the officer said, impassive behind surfer sunglasses. The soldiers looked at him as if he were crazy. Then, one after another, swaying in their bulky body armor and gear, they knelt before the boiling crowd and pointed their guns at the ground. The Iraqis fell silent, and their anger subsided. The officer ordered his men to withdraw.”

The officer “was trying that day to get in touch with Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani, a delicate task that the Army considered politically crucial. American gunfire would have made it impossible. The Iraqis already felt that the Americans were disrespecting their mosque. The obvious solution to Hughes (the officer), was a gesture of respect.” (p. 42).

Lieutenant Colonel Chris Hughes is at this writing rotated home and attending the Army War College in Pennsylvania. On the day in question he did something unexpected; “shortly before the invasion the Army had (despairingly) concluded that it’s officers lacked the ability to do precisely what he did, innovate and think creatively”. He had responded with insight --and courage.

But this, I am sure, must be similar to the way Peter had to learn patience and hope. He had a great leader who was unhesitating in his submission to the cross, which was God’s plan. Peter, who had such great expectations for a strong, aggressive arm of the Lord had to learn that it was not only the despotic Romans, but he himself, who had to submit to God in the person of His Son. Throughout the rest of his life after Calgary, Peter followed in the steps of Jesus and finally, we are told, died the same death as his Lord and Master; all that takes great patience, faith, determination and courage. Cesar Chavez, a great non-violent leader in our time said it well: “Sometimes nonviolence takes more militancy than violence.”

ON A BLEAK SATURDAY

2005-06-06T21:28:00.000-07:00

On a bleak Saturday afternoon in January the rare but clearly predictable southern California storms were raging, though fairly subdued in my own neighborhood; so much so that out of my kitchen window there appeared the uplifting sight of flocks of white sails, each of 12 or 15 small boats, out on the rainy bay. Momentarily perceived as flocks of white doves afloat against the dark and lowering sky and water, the two-person crews were testing their seamanship aweather rather than alee as usual, and while one or two small vessels were yawing wildly along the course, all regained port safely. Alone and under the weather physically and spiritually, it occurred to me that for 3 days I had been keeping my household lights burning during the day and most of the night as if to alert for encroaching dangers -–two if by sea(?). In the face of news of tsunamis in Asia, floods in Scandinavia and Northern UK, and southern California weather turning deadly --- together with news of unremitting warfare in Iraq, I had been wandering in prayer for a meaning of sorts.

Hendrik Hertzberg (The New Yorker, Jan. 17 2005) noted that “The terrible arbitrariness of the (tsunami) disaster has troubled clergymen of many persuasions. The Archbishop of Canterbury is among those newly struggling with the old question of how a just and loving God could permit, let alone will, such an undeserved horror.” (p.35). I had thought of the white sails as signs, perhaps a kind of omen of oceanic hope, but the whole question apparently goes back to one of the oldest, if not the oldest book in the Jewish bible. In a brief review of Job’s experiences William Safire, a New York Times columnist concludes, in Where Was God, Jan. 2005, “(1) Victims of this cataclysm in no way “deserved” a fate inflicted by the Leviathanic force of nature. (2) Questioning God’s inscrutable ways has its exemplar in the Bible and need not undermine faith. (3) Humanity’s obligation to ameliorate injustice on earth is being expressed in a surge of generosity that refutes … cynicism.” At least I know it is not only me, these are the times when many people, in many different places, are asking the big questions: “where were you God –How could you let these things happen?” Safire’s comments are germane, but fall short of answering the present day bewilderment of hordes of victims and onlookers. Hertzberg says it more directly as he goes on to amplify our human plight: “Nearly four million men, women, and children have died as a consequence of the Congo civil war. Seventy thousand have perished in the Darfur region of Sudan. In the year just ended, scores of thousands died in wars and massacres elsewhere in Africa, in Asia, in the archipelagoes of the Pacific, and, of course, in Iraq. Less dramatically, but just as lethally, two million people died of malaria around the world, and another million and a half of diarrhea. Five million children died of hunger. Three million people died of AIDS, mostly in Africa. The suffering of these untimely deaths---whether inflicted by deliberate violence, the result of human agency, or by avoidable or treatable malady, the result of human neglect---is multiplied by heartbroken parents and spouses, numbed and abandoned children, and, often, survivors vulnerable to disease and starvation, and dependent, if they are lucky, on the spotty kindness of strangers.” This writer adds, “The giant wave that radiated from western Sumatra on the day after Christmas destroyed the lives of at least a hundred and fifty thousand people and the livelihoods of millions more. A hundred and fifty thousand; fifty times the toll of 9/11, but ‘only’ a few percent of that of the year’s slower, more diffuse horrors. The routine disasters of war and pestilence do, of course, call forth a measure of relief from public and private agencies (and to note that this relief is almost always inadequate is merely to highlight the dedication of those who deliver it). But the great tsunami has struck a deeper chord of sympathy.”

Why do we not consider a different question, why do we still not stop to think or wonder if our Lord has not been asking similar questions of us over the years. “O man, you have been here many times before, you know what “natural” events and your own propensity for violence can do. Where are you when it is time to build the ark, to gather the flock, to prepare for future safety and while peaceful resolutions are still possible? Where are the early warning signals that only now, in India at least, you think might be put in place? When did you work and plan and spend your military and defense budgets for flood and famine relief worldwide ahead of time, instead of creating more death and destruction; when did you to plan for the loving and secure communities that you are capable of building, the kind of world I made you for and reminded you of in the Garden?” Why do we play to the crowd and so rarely think first of others rather than rush to profit-taking ---and then sue each other for unrequited love after the fact?

During this musing one of the newer TV programs came on hosted by an attractive young lady named Maria, recently employed in the trading pits of the NY stock exchange (where long term problem solving is usually scarce). A good presenter, she had the task of asking one of our US senators about how the future plans for one famous pre-planned safety cushion, the Social Security Program, is faring in government circles. To her obvious (mock?) surprise, since this issue had been kicked around a lot during these last election days, the senator seemed to recall only the most recent words on the subject and stated that there were no plans in place at all at present. Whether our Social Security system is revamped to meet participant needs, –or if ever, --currently it is clear that this problem is high on many legislative agendas, often for purposes of political leverage. It is slow to emerge in enactment form because it involves the future, and many a legislator shies away from the role of prophet until the voice counts are in ---and also such mementos are heartily wished dead by some of our lawmakers. Like world peace itself, these issues are usually designed for aftermaths, for picking up the pieces after disaster has struck. Left to welfare agencies and “the spotty kindness of strangers”, we will be asked to contribute to the results of catastrophes that happen regularly -- in some regions on a daily basis. We may seek and even find alternatives to fuel oil –after it is gone, or at least after pouring a lot more of our money into middle-eastern pockets.

Even the well honed techniques of management, if applied to arcane government processes, could improve matters; this idea is usually rejected however, (noted by staffers as useful only for “profit making” agencies), but many believe every-day business practices could well institute change as opposed to status quo. (See recent reports on snarled government procedures). New pending solutions are often left to sketchy “relief” organizations that tend to be self perpetuating, and refer frequently to do-gooder phraseology having to do with the importance of giving “in time of need” --and will spring up to report the next need, and, etc.

Are not they who say “yes, we will help repair the damage that could perhaps have been prevented” very much like the “whited sepulchers” of old? They only confess the duplicity, and their own complicity, in self-oriented planning. In any event, I cling to the notion that those “white doves” out on the stormy bay signify peace and the loving nature of the one who said that those who seek wisdom must first really seek the Kingdom --presumably before they make up their minds about what constitutes wisdom. Some day we will learn to give the right answer: the UN General Assembly met on 1/24/05 to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the end of Nazi death camps. Elie Wiesel spoke as follows, “The Jewish witness that I am speaks of my people’s suffering as a warning. He sounds the alarm to prevent these tragedies being done to others. And yes, I am convinced if the world had listened to those of us who tried to speak we may have prevented Darfur, Cambodia, Bosnia, and naturally Rwanda.” The Arab countries were notable by their absence, and the UN itself struggles to maintain a leadership presence ---but such a body is sorely needed as we move steadily towards increased armed conflict around the globe.

We may still, however, be too busy following Pope’s directive, “Presume not God to scan, the proper study of mankind is man.” -- We can only learn worldly solutions to old problems that way –and that they usually do not work. Although our Father in heaven has given us promise of future happiness in the world to come, even now we struggle to make our way to its gates.

WRITING ABOUT GOD FROM THE SKY –AND SUSPENDING JUDGMENT

2005-05-19T22:48:00.000-07:00

Here is an uncertain effort to relate "adventures” of Samoa and still suspend judgment as I write: Thomas Mallon, in the Books and Critics section of The Atlantic, May 2004, noted that American author Booth Tarkington wrote to his friend about one of his characters (Alice Adams): “…the girl is drawn without any liking or disliking of her by the writer.” Mallon commented: “Whether he knew the term or not, Tarkington had stumbled on the practice of what Keats called “negative capability”—the artist’s gift for suspending judgment while he simply creates”. Mallon was persuasive as he called to mind Tarkington and the nostalgia that clings to his titles, (e.g., The Magnificent Ambersons, Penrod and Sam, Etc.). I would surely like to learn how to suspend judgment while writing --it could possibly be the difference between creativeness and the pedestrian stuff I would like to avoid; current results may in fact be evident in what follows.

When I got into the taxicab on one of those bright and golden California afternoons, shadows were just beginning to lengthen, (a line that does not sound original even to me), in an altogether lovely and relaxing part of the day. I looked forward to the trip, especially since the driver, who is from Samoa, is not a stranger to me. In fact I had already written about him in a letter titled “All the Beautiful People”. He is a kindly man who had once gone far out of his way to return a small package I had left in his cab even before I knew it was missing. “Fah Lo Tah” is the way the Samoan “Aloha” sounds to me. Here is a difficulty already; I am going to write about this man and what he told me on this day, and I already like him. So far, that in itself seems to constitute a major failure in suspended judgment.

He had told me a story about his granddaughter, together with a charming Samoan folk tale, during a previous ride in his cab; today out of nothing more than idle curiosity I asked him if he had ever worn a lava-lava, one of those picturesque long, skirt-like garments worn by men in Samoa. I assumed they were just for tourist shows these days, but I remembered seeing them on Samoans in Hawaii years before. His answer surprised me: “Oh sure, I usually put one on when I get home from work. In fact, I wear a more formal kind of ceremonial lava-lava at church.” Here was more than I had expected, or hoped for; topics which among other things might more than make up for my chronically meager fund of small talk! Here were two wide vistas of unexplored terrain -– Samoan culture and its religion. As my informant began to enlarge upon both these subjects, he recalled that he had worshipped in the Mormon Church (established there in 1885) before leaving Samoa; after immigrating to this country he settled into a Samoan enclave (of which, he assured me, there are many scattered over the US) and is now attending a branch of the English Church first established in the Islands in1830 by the London Missionary Society. My driver told me this was going to be the “happy” part of the story about religion in Samoa. In the agreeably patois–tinged speech of the islander that he is, he proceeded to tell of times before 1830 when Christianity first came to Samoa. It seems that there used to be many gods; gods in plants, fish or animals. The people evidently lived in great dread of making them angry. In those days Samoans were very warlike, “fighting first, asking questions later”. Today this history is echoed as they excel the world over in the sport of rugby, and a recent study showed that of all NFL players in the US, Samoans are 40 times more likely to be chosen over other ethnic group members. It also occurred to me that during my stay in Hawaii nearly all the policemen in Honolulu appeared to be Samoans.

I read from a brief history by missionary R.M. Watson (circa 1905): “Their mythology and methods of worship, which have been ably classified by earlier missionaries, differ widely from Tahiti and other Pacific groups, in that the custom of human sacrifice, practiced with extensive and horrible cruelty in many parts of the Pacific, did not exist among the Samoans.” They apparently had legends of creativity and “they worshipped many high war and village gods, and many lesser gods of the household.” My driver told about the chief god over all, a Jove-like figure called Tagaloa of the Skies. The gist of the story from this point is that a Samoan chief was told by a Queen from a distant island (probably from Tonga where a Wesleyan Mission had been attempted earlier) to wait for the emissaries of the “greatest God from the sky”. They were apparently waiting: According to this legend, the chief and many Samoans had heard something about Christianity and the surprised missionaries from England found all the people eager and anxiously awaiting the “Good News”. Historical sources confirm the pre-awareness and “sweet” attitude of all Samoans to embrace the True religion, which emphasized love rather than aggression. According to my driver, the previously war-oriented chief now faced his people and said, “Do not call me chief, call me Missionary”.

My driver then announced, “Here is the ‘sad’ part”, and mentioned the name of John Williams; I later read that in 1827 “the famous Missionary John Williams” had journeyed to Raratonga in the Cook group and “there built a vessel of some seventy to eighty tons for island work which he called ‘Messenger of Peace’, and which, being built almost entirely of local products, was a remarkable effort of ingenuity. In this vessel … he sailed to Samoa … landing on Savaii…” in 1830. It is recorded that two missions, each with four Tahitian teachers was established there. Williams did not stay long at that point due to his firm resolve to try to bring Christianity to all the Pacific islands, but he revisited Samoa after two years, landing “some 200 miles from Savaii, and was greatly and agreeably astonished to find the natives claiming the new religion and clamouring for a teacher. … Williams, after visiting much of the group, sailed away (for a time) … Samoa had found its natural doctrine of love.” Visiting Samoa again in 1838 he found British missionaries settled, presumably in relative comfort, and the entire population of the ten islands of the Samoan group was said to be under Christian instruction. “He built a house for his wife, intending to make Samoa his headquarters. To the regret of the English-speaking Christian world, however, he was not permitted to do so.” It is reported that Williams was murdered, along with a young missionary named Harris, while landing on a beach at Erromango on a voyage to New Caledonia, in the New Hebrides.

My driver is more explicit. He told me that Williams and Harris were in the process of going ashore in the Gilbert Islands where “wild people lived”. First Harris and then Williams was killed and eaten by the cannibalistic natives.

It was not for nothing, apparently, that one 18th century explorer first called Samoa the Navigator Islands; with their many oared war canoes and well crafted sailing vessels they had access to a large part of the Pacific. My driver told me that upon hearing about the deaths of their “own missionaries”, a party of Samoans set sail to the Gilbert Islands and found skulls hung on long poles near the beach where the two men had had perished. Without any real opposition, (due probably to Samoan reputation), these faithful sailors brought the skeletal remains back to Apia. As it is otherwise recorded, the remains were “… later partly recovered and now lie buried beneath the Native Church of the mission of Apia – a fitting monument”. Earlier Watson had happily noted, “By inherited instinct the Samoans are lovers of religious observance. Now none can be found that is not a professed Christian ... “.
It is indeed true that some adventures can be completely vicarious, as was mine on this day –of an authentic tale about missionaries and cannibals. As for judgment, the only thing suspended was not judgment, (good Samoans, unsaved “wild people”), but rather my breathing pattern, as I raptly listened while my driver told the story.

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 1

2005-05-14T22:22:00.000-07:00

(My Journey Thus Far...)

I am sharing a journey with you; in some parts I have what amounts to informed knowledge, in others this is not the case. Thus far the journey surely includes some blind spots, biases and insufficient study-- for which I take full responsibility. Obviously I am not a theologian, either. Keep in mind what was attributed to a fellow who once aspired to be president of the US: “Always listen to a man when he is describing the faults of others. Most times he is describing his own, revealing himself”. That said, it is expected that some at least may join with me in this journey, and some will not. I am grateful for both persuasions. This is dedicated to my son Douglas--just a smidgen of return for all he has given to me. NLK

Pridefulness among Christians, as self-pride, would appear to constitute an oxymoron-- and not only at first glance, (although some unfriendly critics have complained of an air of smugness, if not arrogance, within the born-again community). Yet among those outside the pale there appears a powerful tendency to bank on themselves, on some kind of self-power and one’s own control over life’s demands. Especially those who have somehow survived the wounds, or perhaps the self-defeat of “overgiving” in past relationships, the attitude seems to be: “why take chances on others, (or even God), others who may not really care, may just leave, become abusive, take advantage, cheat and lie, fall out of love-- or even die, as so many are wont to do-- I’ll be sufficient unto myself!” Suspicious, rather timorously boastful at times (and sadly enough seeing the past as both present and future), the movement here is from a vision of our human frailty that is extended to God, now made in our image.

As we know from Holy Scripture only boasting in the Lord is acceptable, (1 Cor. 1:31 and 2 Cor.10:17). In Romans 3:27 we find “Where is boasting? It is excluded...” except ofcourse, in the Lord. Exclusive personal pridefulness is out. (The same throughout the Bible, an Old Testament view of pride is given in Daniel 4:30-31

Christian conduct seen in Stephen’s behavior is probably an exemplary model for most of us. His seemed a spiritually dogged determination, as opposed to the old college try, preoccupied as that often is with winning versus losing. He clearly carried out just what the Lord asked of him promptly, and then went right on with the rest of what life he had left to him, according to the Lord’s will. Even in his death he followed closely in the footsteps of Jesus. While his final words must surely win souls by sheer example, that would appear to be a secondary effect. Recall however, that a young man named Saul stood by and participated in bringing about Stephen’s violent death.

On reflection Stephen could probably have done no more-- just as Christians might customarily aim to do no less. Surely we do not earn extra credit for doing what we are supposed to do. Stephen could only give back to God that which God had given him. There is, after all, no other giver and no other source.

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 2

2005-05-14T22:21:00.001-07:00

Stephen stands forth as a shining example of early Christian faith and determination, and by a radical turnabout Saul, now called Paul, became a totally dedicated follower and an accepted apostle of the Christ Jesus. To be sure, by then he was deeply aware of his own sinful nature, (e.g., see Rom. 7:14-25. According to Strong’s Concordance the Greek used here, HAMMARTIA, from HAMARTANO, expresses not only sinning due to one’s faults, but also to miss the mark and so fail to share in the prize. In English the word “sinning,” means the same thing. In Old England somewhere about the era of King James, “sinning” was the name of a sport with bow and arrow-- twelve arrows (apostles?) had to hit the mark or the hapless player was dubbed a “Sinner”). Paul clearly makes great efforts to push forward in his work-- his spirit seemed to be energized by awareness of the sacred nature of his commission; (e.g., Rom. 11:13). Apostle to the gentiles, he states “...I make much of my ministry in the hope that I may somehow arouse my own people to envy and save some of them.” There are disclaimers to any special personal achievement as when he emphatically showed that neither Paul nor Apollo should get credit for bringing certain souls to Christ (1 Cor. 3:3-9). What were Paul’s efforts for-- or against? Extra effort or not, again all he could give back to God was what God had given him. In these questions the Holy Spirit can provide Scriptural answers. In the case of Paul, he is clearly shown to work against a constantly recurrent antagonist-- the demands of the flesh; his own and that of others. This is what “running the race” probably meant in great part to Paul. In terms of fleshly enemies one might start with Proverb 6:10, just “A little folding of the hands...”. Flesh seems to demand lots of rest. Also vanity, immediate relief from stress, increasing pleasures, much food and drink together with very little work or expenditure of energy. Under any kind of pressure the flesh gives up early and easily. Paul vigorously resisted all these and other impious demands during the major part of his life on earth. He fought daily and hourly against such carnal impulses and urged faith-- joy in the Lord and the Glory of Christ Jesus in the place of worldly values. Of course much more could be said, and has been said about Paul;
he continues still to win souls to Christ.

Considering the freedom of choice we need to exercise in this earthly life-- not just once or twice but daily and hourly, (as Paul did) such a stand and practice seems less an option and more of a necessity for Christians. Our concern in this journey is with problems of emotionality; the enemy quickly creeps in through doors left ajar during human emotional storms. What values are at stake? Eternal life, for one! Here of course is the issue of life after death. C. S. Lewis, in speculating on “the resurrection of the body” after death, from Pauline epistles-- “sown in corruption; raised in incorruption” concluded that “what the soul cries out for is the resurrection of the senses... what matters is a source of sensations.”. The glorified body of the resurrection as conceived by Lewis is “the sensuous life raised from its death... inside the soul.”. The latter not inside the body but outside it, “as God is not in space but space is in God”. (Admittedly guesses, Lewis is here quoted from letter 22 in his biography).

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 3

2005-05-14T22:21:00.000-07:00

Upon thinking it through one cannot help but agree, considering the central role the amorphous but powerful spirit of love plays in Christian belief, and in all our lives, spiritual and earthly. But by the same token other difficulties arise here on earth; the problem of self-awareness, for one. We are recipients and givers of responses from birth; “experiencers” and givers of love but also bearers of jealousy, false pride and vainglory, among other things. The universal response to the “whips and scorns of outrageous fortune” is often “Why me? -- me of all people!” Though we seem more and more to congregate in droves, each “sheep” may be unable to quite understand why it should feel so lost or alone at times. We form ant-like files on crowded roadways, and this highly developed sense of self-dom not only shuns carpools, but under personally perceived stresses it rarely lets us play the part of just one of the “spear-carriers in life’s Grand Opera”. We feel special in some vague way and in the very midst of crowds of fellow beings there is concurrently a curious capacity to be acutely sensitive to intimate sore spots, loneliness or abandonment, real or fancied. It is just here that we are vulnerable, more apt to turn to vanity as compensation-- and hiding place. What is often hidden of course, is a sense of personal weakness and failure-- one of the sternest taboos in a society of self-sufficient others-- apparent loss of self control.

Anxiety is defined for our present purposes as simply the fear of losing control, specifically control over our bodies, our feelings, and our lives. The various reactions or defenses against anxiety are seen as efforts at maintaining a sense of control, not all of which are in our immediate awareness. It is also contended here that we are not supposed to have “control” in the first place. I am keenly aware that this view will not be accepted charitably by many.

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 4

2005-05-14T22:20:00.001-07:00

Along with the fear of losing control, many defensive maneuvers come into play: the selective forgetting, simple denial, outright lies and fantasy, vulnerable make-believe lives. The great paradox of course is that at the very core of vanity or pride, is fear. The fear of losing control of one’s life is also a generalized anxiety about losing control to others by growing to need them. We might, heaven forbid, come to depend on others who might influence us willy-nilly. Once really needed they could grow cold and abusive, become rejective and finally just go away. Note how fiercely loss and separation are guarded against; it is not death per se that is feared most; in the face of need fear, or fear of needing, it is the fear of losing control over death! In cases of depression, for one example among many, dying on one’s own terms is often preferable-- one then controls by making it happen-- rather than all the waiting in darkness, not knowing the manner, day or hour. In situations where much anxiety and suspiciousness are precipitated, the control efforts may extend to (counter) attacks on the lives of others. Another aspect of the same paradox is that some of those who are actually deeply fearful of dependency, but schooled perhaps in a very negative early environment, may take on a quite spurious over-dependent role, but are curiously unable to allow certain others to really meet their needs; those “rescuers” are always seen to fall short, and disappoint the self-appointed victim in some way. Here the victim is the true controller. Can we really be independent? To shed some light on the control issue there are many instances when the actual state of affairs is revealed in startling ways. When a self-styled sufficient- unto-one’s self , “independent” person becomes baffled by everyday external forces threatening to take away some control, even momentarily, say in traffic or the confines of an aircraft journey, what may erupt, often surprising even the “independent” reactor, is violent rage -- sometimes with equally violent intent. Why? “Because that so-and-so turned in front of me! I have been robbed of my freedom, to move where and when I might wish-- without that one I would never react this way-- , (or) those others are responsible for what I’m doing, I hold them accountable, they will pay for it if I have to take it out of their hides.” This behavior would tend to suggest that the speaker’s well-being , and even sense of sanity depends entirely on the actions of those unimportant others. It thus seems that keeping our apparently inescapable dependency needs out of conscious awareness can lead to rude awakenings, some times with impulses to fight or destroy something, in order to reinstate a sense of having control.

Getting along in this world, (and the next) probably requires that some form of workable interdependency be in place, but obviously excessive anxiety about it may lead to tensions surrounding some relationships, especially those involving closeness. One such effect is a withdrawal towards a lonely, secret inner life, and to the loss of true security, companionship and belongingness-- essentially rejection of the fellowship of the Holy Spirit; The deeper loss is that this fear of dependency, of relinquishing self-control, “ I did it my way-- I’m really an independent type”, extends often to the unwillingness to depend entirely on God the Father. It is true that the Lord expects us to be self-reliant to some degree, but even this is attained only through His Grace and strength.

How are we to understand Christ’s words, “Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the Kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein.”? (Mark 10:15). Among other qualities a little child is relatively dependent-- a condition suitable for acceptance by the Lord Almighty. The tendency to understand these words as a reference to purity and innocence exclusively runs head-on into the many dismaying reports of violent and criminal behavior among children and youths. “Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right.” (Prov. 20:11. Calvinist enough?).

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 5

2005-05-14T22:20:00.000-07:00

In working with young people displaying extreme behavior two elements appear necessary and often sufficient to precipitate relatively unprovoked violent actions. We may disregard much of the “weird” clothes and mannerisms as causative; upsetting to some adults (this is what the kids hope for), these are largely age- appropriate, if not always socially so. The first critical factor is chronic secretiveness, veiled motives and a marked loss and almost fearful rejection of trust and confidence in adults and some peers-- except as a source of hand-outs to further their own life- style. This factor is relatively frequent among youngsters from high crime and poverty areas but has been frequent, and quite significant as it occurs in well-off families. All by itself this may lead to antisocial behavior including drug and alcohol abuse (some times indulgently over- looked as “youthful high spirits”), but this also requires the presence of a factor that includes a preoccupation with violent death and dying. A fascination with torture may be included but is not always a prerequisite for deadly violence. The interest in death carries with it a marked urge to take control of it by making it happen-- either to themselves or others, the signs often hidden from those peers who do not share these same morbid interests, but who may later become targets.

Somewhat relevant here, I recall that a feature of a Totalitarian government has been described as the idealization of a golden, heroic and lost past, together with a concurrent deifying of the latest in technology, armaments and weaponry. That recipe is definitely not advanced here; there has always been evil in the world since the fall. As in John 10:10, “The thief cometh not but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and they might have it more abundantly”. But pride is now frequently made synonymous with the personal power to operate “independently” in adulthood. In earlier times pride was often put under the category of virtue-ethics, even among laity. There, pride was represented by a sense of honor marked with self-respect. Such a goal for any youngster has much to commend it. Largely gone out of fashion now, it is something that needs to be earned-- under constantly caring and watchful eyes.

Presumably this current pride in independence is recognizable when one gains some sort of victory over others in the arena. But all the loners, all the disturbed kids who might one day kill, all the recluses and even some of the self-made entrepreneurs of this world already know the false god of independence. They find it easier to keep one’s distance (and one’s plans, or material gains), than to risk the fires of interpersonal conflict; possible scorn and criticism, cruelty or erratic anger from undependable others (and even the possibility of having all this aroused in one’s self). These are the experiences that will always teach “independence”, but a far cry from the commandment to love one another and treat others as we would be treated This latter rule has many advantages; fellowship, intimacy, peace in one’s relationships, and life eternal for starters. By comparison competitive rivalry seems to have taken up a lot of space in our present day culture. (But note the allotment and sharing of diversified gifts in 1 Cor. 12:4-12). There are bright people who maintain that only conflict breeds progress. If they are coveting the progress mostly represented by technology, they may at the same time be disregarding those qualities of life that have always been, and are even now, available to the seeker-- and which are probably of greater value for eternity’s sake.

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 7

2005-05-14T22:19:00.001-07:00

The words “It can’t happen to me” are replaced during critical events in all our lives with what some have called intimations of mortality, “It can happen to me”. Here anxiety and awareness of a hopeless cause often show themselves. Adam again naked! The siren-song of control first heard in the garden-- control over one’s own life, is unfortunately all too possible given the irrevocable condition of free will. But only in the short-run; “In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.” (Prov. 16:9).

It would appear that you really need to read the directions; read the Word of God which quite freely offers the unthinkable! Read for example chapter 34 of Ezekiel, occurring as it does in the midst of chapter after chapter of the Lord’s righteous wrath. Review there and elsewhere the many promises of astounding blessings, comfort, security, of well-being and constant loving kindness-- on this basis a first-time reader might well be inclined to think of the children of Israel wandering so long in the desert, or indeed of those who still wander and still fail to gratefully embrace such riches, as being very dense indeed. Clearly, they are not.

Most who seek after other gods and personal control are often quite bright; they are just deeply afraid to give up control and depend completely on their God. They are bright enough to invent well-sounding, convincing arguments about why they don't accept the Lord, who has probably heard them all by now. But how often the scriptures say clearly “do not fear”; do not fear to depend on the Lord your God who freely offers life, in place of loss and total separation.

The groundwork (from Adam) has been laid for the prevalence of anxiety, with all it’s strident and scrambling efforts to maintain some semblance of independent control over fleshly life. It is also important to recognize the forms and sources of depression. Essentially we are to consider the state of affairs when the need to control has gone underground, so to speak. Paradoxically again, depression seems to represent a condition of total self-control. When most people are depressed they seem determined to lose, and lose heavily, in the game of life-- but on their own terms. To the deeply depressed person usually no amount of exhortation or “cheering up” seems to have any lasting effect. It’s strictly a private affair. Even their anger is kept for themselves, directed inwards towards hopelessness and “failures” past, present, or future.

An important underlying issue in many depressions is a sense of loss or separation. This may involve persons, places or parts of one’s self image. A child may become depressed after the family moves to another town; aging and loss of faculties can precipitate depressive episodes as can the loss of a limb, of money or the end of a relationship. Depression occurs in infancy; babies abandoned by a once-known mother often demonstrate the early association with death. The child may refuse to be fed, or crawl away to the other end of the crib when touched. It is as if they are refusing to take a chance on another human being leaving them again. They seem ready to die on their own terms rather than trust again-- and lose again. Among adults, especially those harboring a great deal of mistrust, ruminative depressives may take up a weapon to attack family, coworkers, another ethnic group or even strangers. They seem to say to the world-- you had better kill me before I kill you! This has been referred to as “suicide by cop” in some instances.

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 6

2005-05-14T22:19:00.000-07:00

An interesting problem here comes from sociological observation; sometimes team-groups may merge into conflict-groups. Studies of activity programs for inner-city youth such as those done even as early as the 1930’s invariably resulted in the persistence of a tendency to substitute gang-rivalry in place of organized sports. S. Freud himself once suggested that the wholesale application of team sports could reduce the level of aggression in human society. Even he never appeared to be quite convinced of it however; if rivalry were truly “beneficial” among gangs we might expect street deaths by violence (and the misery that accrues) to be lower in magnitude than it has now become. This is not meant to imply that effective programs for friendly rivalry in team sports has not been forthcoming, they have; but at the same time it needs to be pointed out that within this recurrent tendency much of gang violence appears to represent the effects of an urge to control, and of self-conscious pridefulness.

It was God who first endowed man with self-consciousness. The Lord walked in the garden in the cool of the day and he said, ADAM, WHERE ART THOU? Adam, conscious now of his nakedness, knew where he was trying to hide, just as the Lord knew. Guilt and self-consciousness came into our lives all at once, preceded by sin.

Was the first man and wife duo simply duped by the devil or did they conspire? The serpent did not come right out and say “either believe in me or believe in the Lord”; he offered a substantial inducement-- you can believe in your own powers; eat of the forbidden fruit and you will be like gods! You will know what God knows and you can run your own lives. Before vanity and efforts at cover-up came the urge to be self-reliant, to in some sense be all-mighty.

Difficult as it is for many well-meaning people to accept, there appears to be no such thing as healthy total independence. Pseudo-independence, as noted above, often seems to coincide with early loss of basic trust; to such a child, perhaps abused in some way, depending on outside forces becomes “intuitively” untrustworthy. This reflects primitive and “gut-level” responsiveness. No longer needing to be thought through, it later resides as an anxiety source always on tap. Under these conditions the concept of faith, as taught by the local church or family (themselves now highly suspect by the untrusting one) tends to lay on a kind of veneer that quickly dissolves under any challenge or doubt—“seeds that fall on shallow ground”. One result is vacillating, changeable convictions giving way to confusion and lack of hope, e.g., a giving up of faith and trust, which is the deeper self- defeating motive to begin with.

A reluctance to need to depend on others shows up in various forms during different times and stages of life. One form is of a certain indifference and aloofness where others are concerned. This effect emerges especially in younger individuals during wartime or perhaps just during the battles of everyday life. It may crop up acting as a temporary advantage; we may press onward past the bodies of comrades fallen in the struggle, but they have become somehow faceless and nameless compared to our own unique self-dom. “It can’t happen to me. I have special purposes, and things about to come into my life-- a raise, or a promotion-- besides, I plan to move to another town and build a new and larger storehouse for my crops”.

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 8

2005-05-14T22:18:00.000-07:00

What is illustrated here is the depressive drive to take control of their own lives, and deaths. These are examples of independence, often in the face of pleas and offers of help from those who appear, at least momentarily, to try to take that control away from them.

Losses may be subtle, losses may seem small-- but they loom large in the eyes of the one who has lost. A most poignant example is that of the person who has become aware through scraps of memory, deep introspection, or perhaps outright accusation, that he or she has in fact transcended moral principles that were always held dear. As passé as it may sound, honor has been lost. The word honesty comes from honor-- and one now feels somehow dis-honest; no longer the basically “good” person in their bathroom mirror. Self-awareness has crept in, just as it did in the Garden of Eden. Now, a lot depends on what is done with such self-awareness. The question is, are they willing to trust and depend on God’s love and forgiveness,-- knowing it might require painful confession and true repentance? Or do they hide it and put on a cover-up face to the world? Do they realize the latter choice is the much harder one? Some lapses that involve pride loom very large-- including the practice of selfish, hurtful arrogance. The remarkable thing about God’s grace is that just the same choice needs to be made for both small and large transgressions. When a depressive condition is involved the choice that has most likely been made is to hold it all within, perhaps only to act-out even more to prove “who’s in control”. The depressive one jealously hangs onto every last pain even unto death.

So anxiety about control is still the core problem-- this is frequently where it all starts; at the soft underside of depression lurks the same fear of losing control-- now gone entirely underground, not thought out but mostly acted-out. Any thorough and enduring resolution requires that the sufferer face that fear and replace it with the commitment to live, and to live a resurrection life. This may be especially appropriate here since depression is like a “dying” rather than a “living” experience. Has one in fact died to the world? If so, paradox again-- the depressive may be, without realizing it of course, a lot closer than many to being “born again”. Have you ever wondered why the words “do not fear” are repeated so often in scriptures?

Perhaps scriptural principles are observable here and the following seems in order: If you are going to boast, boast in the Lord-- If you are going to fear, fear the Lord your God!

The simplicity of these principles frequently confound the wise however, and those who are blind and deaf by obdurate choice will be puzzled by this very simplicity too. We are after all dealing with the complexities of regular doses of self-defeat, self-damage and self-destruction all in the covert pursuit of “control” and independence. Many of those who early on sense that life on earth includes chances of defeat, damage and destruction will develop private ways of refusing to take such chances through bringing it on themselves. If one takes any chance at all, one faces just win, lose or draw. To stand inert and lifeless is still chance taking, i.e., doing nothing. One truly has a sense of control only by bringing on the only thing you can do for sure-- loss, rejection by others, failures in crucial situations: if one sees possible criticism, give them something to criticize you for-- after all, it’s no surprise, you caused it yourself by telling them what to do!

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 9

2005-05-14T22:17:00.000-07:00

When the number of people who continue to smoke, drink and drive, drive at excessive speeds, fire off weapons precipitously, sometimes taking human lives, use dangerous drugs, eat unhealthy meals, abuse but rarely exercise the Holy Temple of their bodies are taken into account, a very large percentage of the population of the United States is represented. These self-destructive patterns are deliberate and obvious ways of bringing sickness and death sooner rather than later. Again, this behavior is not always the result of ignorance-- at some level it is chosen as a defense against giving up control by taking one’s chances with life, or death. To challenge this type of behavior directly only runs the risk of eliciting more of the same.

It may be concluded then that there is a general tendency for many people, at most times and places, to strive to depend on themselves-- and work in the service of death rather than life. After all, there are only two ways to go, and to forsake the one is to become deeply enmeshed in the other: “This day I call on heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life...” (Dt. 30:19-20).

Many of those who fear to “hold fast” or depend on the Lord and others also frequently evince complex ways of choosing for worse rather than for better-- and then repeating the errors; staying over-long in the wrong company, for example, choosing the wrong mate, making wrong investments, getting into problem areas and getting out of troubles with more than your average difficulty. They seem bound to bring it all on themselves-- to get there first with the worst. Refusing to take chances with reality or to learn from past experiences-- they have a losing system and appear loathe to try anything new. Blue moods make it worse.
Moods and attitudes are involved here. These arise from emotional substrates and will run the gamut from festering anger, vague fears, jealousy, envy, injured pride, over-investment in loves other than for the Lord, worry and confusion over right versus wrong choices-- most of which can prove a rather sickening “virus”, especially if carried on chronically for periods of time. It should be generally recognized that all our emotions are normal, and we all have them to one degree or another. Problems arise when emotions, or feelings, take over the driver’s seat in our existence. Feelings are just fine and very important when they remain secondary to our purposes, directions and goals. If they take the lead and are in charge of our motives however, there is bound to be trouble.

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 10

2005-05-14T22:16:00.000-07:00

Within this purview of self-defeat and self-damage I would feel remiss not to include the interesting effects of a popular therapeutic idea generally known as “codependency”. Literally translated it sounds like a fine practice to encourage. I am sure that many Christians do tend to look to each other for support in worship and prayer, for example. I am also sure that that is not what these practitioners mean.

As the Women’s Liberation movement gained legitimacy in the U. S., the codependency approach was born and brought forward hundreds of women, and men equally, from the forest of emotionality who had apparently felt a need for independence, control and various other powers; and with good reason. Unfortunately many of them had been practicing their own brand of “control” overlong by forming relationships with anyone who seemed to need them sufficiently-- and proceeded to take on the role of over-giver, often to the point where the selected needer grew quite churlish and sometimes dangerously destructive about it. Amazing it was, to see how many apparently relatively clean-living men and women found mates with what could only be seen as serious character flaws. (This is not the old ploy of blaming the victim; I have spent enough time in crisis centers to know that as a frequent dodge by perpetrators-- and to recognize the difference. Behavior patterns gleaned from well organized family case-histories are helpful here). I want to add however, and not only by way of a peace offering, that a very useful and valid device known as assertiveness training (as well as other modalities), has been honed to a fine point in the codependency field, and has proven a boon to many in individual or group therapy encounters. After one gains some self-understanding it is an excellent idea to “Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.” (Col. 4:6). And simply let your yes be yes and your no be no, too. Always speak the truth, especially if you have learned what the truth is.

But His ways are wonderful, and His understanding no one can fathom, so he filled the world with many sorts, with many different people having different talents and proclivities-- and that is wonderful too. Genetic or learned, nature or nurture, given enough opportunity, all of us have the ability to learn. We have been given a wonderful capacity to change and adapt to different conditions-- if we so choose.

At this juncture we begin to look at some ways by which troubled underlying tendencies, together with their damaging behaviors, may be replaced with something more life-oriented. The road must take a turn if the journey is to proceed. Look again at the phase “if we so choose”.
Even though you can and should choose to change your life, it is entirely possible that this choosing may not have a very profound effect all at once. As with salvation and faith itself, in some sense the Lord seems to have to choose you too. Spiritual gifts! How do believers know the Lord is in their lives? It appears to me that to become a believer is to learn that you were foreknown, that you were predestined, and came to the Lord because you were chosen to do so. On that basis please note that you are not expected to clean up your life first, in order to come to the Lord-- you can’t! You must have God in your life to do that. There is nothing you can do to earn forgiveness. The GOOD NEWS is that Jesus has done it all for you on the cross!

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 11

2005-05-14T22:15:00.000-07:00

The one choice you can and should make on your own, however, is to turn or return to the Lord. This is humbling, and is meant to be. “Repent, then, and Turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord, and that he may send the Christ, who has been appointed for you-even Jesus.” (Acts 3:19-20). You see, the only way to the Father is through His Son.

You might start by offering Him your heart to be healed, with prayers. And while I think of it, it wouldn’t do a bit of harm to begin a daily reading of the word. Start with something easy like Genesis if you want a suggestion, but it is also invigorating to start wherever you happen to open the Bible-- and proceed from there. (I find it rewarding to read back and forth between the Old and New Testament, but the Lord probably doesn’t care how you or I do it, as long as we do it).

Beliefs and actions, (faith and deeds), are both essential to the work of change. Those of faint heart need to remember that the Lord can take even the murkiest situations and turn them into victories!

To begin with, you will need to look underneath all the airs and poses; the troubled heart and mind (and body) are usually more chaotic than calm, more tense and closed-up than open to new ideas-- so full of conflicts while busily processing tendencies to “take action” in the old ways, that God will probably not readily get your attention-- and if he should decide to do so you may not like it. (“Pain as God’s megaphone...”, C. S. Lewis). It is likely that having some method of being in a truly receptive condition could make the whole thing go more easily.

A useful approach, tried and true, is to counter some of those old tendencies and tensions with the practice of doing absolutely NOTHING for brief periods. NOTHING can be a very important thing to do when you are seeking direction and guidance. Remember that the goal here is to relinquish “control” by letting go, and letting the Lord get a word in edgewise. St. Augustine said, “God wants to give us something, but cannot, because our hands are full-- there’s nowhere for Him to put it”.

You will only need to continue to breath, but you can’t stop doing that anyway because anatomically the breathing center is located in the brain-stem and is thoroughly automatic. Speaking of breathing, it is important to get air into all parts of your lungs; tense breathing is shallow and brief, sometimes breaths are omitted entirely-- bated breath. So just lean back, inhale and bring fresh air all the way down to your tummy (diaphragm), pause briefly, and gently let it all out-- and continue on in this way. You are not supposed to be foggy-headed or sleepy either; calm and clear minded is the goal. (The exception is that some people find that relaxing this way makes it easier to fall asleep at bedtime). While thus relaxing at any time you might focus on a line or two from scriptures, but otherwise try to keep your thoughts to a minimum; gently push out the intruders even as they enter in.

You should notice that when you do these things that those fears, tensions and worries tend to fade; your posture now says “Lord, I’m not doing anything at all, and it’s now up to you, do with me what you will”. In olden days the phrase would be “Lord, here is thy servant”.

It is probably a good idea to practice this together with scripture readings, several times a day at first. Incidentally, to try to use this procedure only when you especially feel upset or tense may attain only a small effect-- if any, though better than nothing. It is the practice (devotion) in between times, for a few minutes at a time, that puts us in a clear state of mind and body whenever we need do do some spiritual growing. How glorious that God is always present and near when we need him.

Do relax and let all your muscles go loose and relaxed. Smooth out your face and forehead-- why harbor pockets of care and worry anywhere? Jesus Himself said, “Peace I give you”; this then is one way to accept his offer. We now seek spiritual gifts!

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY AND ‘’CHRISTIAN PRIDE’’ Part 12

2005-05-14T22:12:00.000-07:00

There are a couple of other things you might do in order to be loosed and free. Recall that we are dealing with primitive and forceful emotions that should not be in the forefront of our actions, thoughts and feelings at all. For anyone to whom asking for help from others has been anathema, for anyone who has been a victim of their own emotionality in the past, to do anything now just because you feel like doing it, (even when you trump up a “good” reason for such behavior afterwards), sad to say, is probably the worst possible basis for doing anything for quite a while.

So if we are not to be guided by our feelings, what shall we use for choosing our actions? Put bluntly, you need to use the brains God gave you, your spiritual values and your past experiences as guidelines-- not, heaven forbid, your destructive feelings. You don’t need to fight them however, just lower the tension level, let them go and put something else in their place --our brains, or minds if you prefer, are useful in two ways: To scan old experiences for self-defeating, self-damaging and self-destructive actions and situations, and to plan alternative courses of behavior, reactions and even thought processes-- in place of the negative experiences of other times and places. (Here I often find it useful, when unwanted impulses slip in as they will, to say sub-vocally or even out loud, “Out Satan, in the name of Jesus”. I found that only in His Name can one reliably bid the enemy out). But to continue, recall the things you have done in past circumstances as you anticipate recurrences (there usually will be), and deliberately choose, and eventually act, on scriptural, life promoting responses. “You will know them by their fruit...”, their results.

Consult the Word here. How wonderful it is to know that in place of insecurity and guesswork there is a plan for your life with reliable ways to behave toward yourself and the world around you. What a relief it is! You fearful ones who still yearn to control your own lives will face another difficult step; to let the lord mold, purify and justify you-- surely a hard and uncomfortable process-- but a lot easier than the way you have been doing things. “You have eaten the fruit of deception, because you have depended on your own strength...” (Hosea 10:13}

For those who have felt the fear of losing control, the stage of sharing control has to come; the phase of fellowship with believers who can understand and accept that you are making the effort to cope with problems of feelings and attitudes. Face it, you can’t do it alone, as much as you would still like to-- so look up your church and Bible study or prayer-groups-- they are your lifeline. At this point you will need all the friends you can get! It follows, of course, that within the range of individual differences some are more susceptible to anxiousness and depressive moods than others, thus some will have more changing, or reworking to do than others.

Do not avoid the fact that some of you may need, and should seek out, professional help. If that is the case, I suggest that you ask in the various registries for State licensed Christian Professionals. Since we all have somewhat different make-ups and backgrounds, professional help may be just what God wants you to have. A perennial difficulty is that some very acutely disturbed people can feel and appear fairly well at times, while other obscure problems are so disguised as to seem only in need of commonsense advice (whatever that may be). Paul said, “Even though you have ten thousand guardians in Christ, you do not have many fathers...”(1 Cor. 4:15). To my capricious view here, this could mean that few will suggest kinship, but many may seem to become “experts” in your area of need. Seriously however, some people might get even more upset, while persons with no valid training in these problems may enthusiastically offer to “cure” them. I advise you to avoid such efforts, no matter how lovingly offered or engendered; if just listening to and reading the Word would always heal difficult emotional problems that would be O.K., but that is not the case. Anyway, it is the Lord who actually does the healing, according to his will-- your state of mind and spirit needs to be prepared to accept it.

Here I must figuratively leave you to God; you are in good hands-- if you have truly turned to Him and accepted Jesus Christ as your savior. Now at least, even if it takes more time than you would like or expect, your new life is assured. You may here be up against the hardest task of all for many like you-- to accept love freely and lavishly given. Controllers have ways of cynically rejecting love, or may buy into the devil’s ploy of assuring us, though saved, that we really don’t deserve it. A study in false humility, controllers may appear not to need love. (How many times have we thanked someone for some kindness or other, without daring to really appreciate it? Oh, the inner conflict however, when there is no love offered-- give up the charade!).

I should try to explain why I have been sharing these things. They are not all pleasant, I know. After all, we could ask in the same vein as Pilate and Herod, “What has all this to do with us? Just because at a certain time in some small corner of a vast Empire there were fractious differences among obscure sects of their own religion, what is that to us, anyway?

It is just that even after thousands of years have passed, it still occurs to many of us that throughout the Word of God there is wisdom, great joy and hope; perhaps some day soon each uncomprehending blind eye might see and understand, each barren lonely heart might receive, and give, real love rather than its many false and make believe versions. So the drama of Christian history, beginning with the "good news” seems far from over-- a new day will dawn and is now dawning

In fact it seems entirely conceivable, to me at least, that in every age, in every place-- and in every lifetime the whole drama is repeated again and again-- together with the same characters, taking familiar roles, in predictable struggle. If that is so, here is our grand opportunity; it will again be asked, “Are you the Christ? Are you the King of the Jews?” At last we have the opportunity to give the answer, “Yes, it is as you say”, and speak with pride in the Lord! Then rejoice! Your name may now be written in the Kingdom-- to the greater glory of God! Did you know that you are heirs...?
“For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to FEAR;
but ye have received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.
The spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are children of God:
And if children, then heirs: heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ; if so be that we
suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together.” (Romans 8:15-17).
Such is my journey, and my destination, thus far....

JONAH (In case I have judged others)

2005-05-12T12:53:00.000-07:00

Jonah was beset and confounded by notions of divine retribution – he was sure that God’s punishment should be administered to those sinners across the river. While he enjoyed the protective shade or cursed the burning sun, Jonah probably encountered the variations in life experience that happen to nearly all of us at times, sometimes throughout life. Many Americans are said also to be like Jonah, especially prone to consider that good or bad experiences are somehow deserved. How could it be otherwise for rugged individualists? Where is the fault in such reasoning?

Certainly at times it seems reasonable to see justice as being done, especially when we do not particularly favor the persons reaping those negative outcomes. That was the case with Jonah; what he saw in the Ninevites, to his mind, deserved only punishment. He was also sure that God, in his mercy, would most likely forgive those malefactors. In fact he later confessed that this was his reason for disobeying the Lord! When Jonah tried to flee from God his very name became the sign that has come to augur doom to any mission.

Many of us, including this writer, often find it hard not to account for negative outcomes in the lives of others as due either to foolishness or the fruits of bad behavior come home to roost—i.e., as the result of poor judgment or poor moral fiber or both, and richly deserving punishment. Why then, shouldn’t our Lord see it that way too? Can we not say, with candor and a rare sense of self-awareness, that to think in these terms is after all a commendable honesty about our human nature? To claim to be only human is not, in this case, offered as an excuse, but as a reasonable explanation.

Here however, is precisely where the flaw lies in Jonah’s thinking, and so often in our own as well. Do we always tend to treat ourselves with these same standards of judgment? At times I find myself mulling over my own motivations and purposes only to explain them (in fantasy, or to others), in terms of someone else’s perceptual field, usually someone for whom I would rather prefer to regard me in a good light (“Those small lies we tell ourselves in darkest moments shrivel in even the faintest light”—Atlantic Monthly, Mar. 04).. Two problems are occurring here; for one I have probably already bent the truth in my favor, but more importantly I have now internalized a fictitious view of myself – and it will most likely be carried forward, rendering my life experience in relevant areas as fictitious. It will be lived out sincerely enough, but now in less than a realistic relationship with one's self and others, and with God. Here we are back in Jonah’s mindset again, but asking for ourselves the same forgiving and indeed merciful, reaction from God that Jonah (resentfully) expected toward the sinners in Nineveh.

Can it not be said that we also sometimes become confounded and confused about ourselves and each other?

Thankfully God does not get confused about us, and furthermore he does not use human reasoning and feelings to decide what to do in applying His judgments. Like Jonah, we may at times get angry at God for not running things our way – we want Him to be made in our image rather than the other way around. As C.S. Lewis said, however, “If I always understood why He did things He wouldn’t be much of a God, would He?”

There is at least one other issue to deal with here: Knowing that God knows us very well, do we really want to ask for justice for ourselves – or do we desire His mercy? In order to do unto others in the way asked of us by our Lord, we should need to pray mercy for others as well.

Listen Up!

2005-05-08T22:45:00.000-07:00

We live in a society where everybody talks, nobody listens, and everyone bewails the fact that they are not understood. (Anon).

The solution to what sounds like a swirling eddy down the drain of all our life-times might appeal to some as the universal acquisition and use of the late Carl Rogers’ method of counseling, i.e., to mostly listen and repeat back in a reasonable rewording only what the speaker has communicated. Often the first reaction to this ploy, at least inwardly, is “Maybe somebody else understands me!”

Rogers is known in annals of counseling as the client or person-centered therapist who, teetering on the shoulders of Sigmund Freud so to speak, carefully documented hundreds of therapy sessions in an effort to show that Freud’s notions of psychoanalysis were too esoteric and divorced from the “self” of the patient. He was obviously not alone in this effort and undoubtedly Rogers’ technique had practical value in some situations. He also pioneered his own teaching and group therapy methods. During the 70s and 80s, together with many other therapists he journeyed to Vienna to meet with Viktor Frankl (Man’s Search for Meaning) in order to explore his vision of potential international peace efforts. It was on one of these junkets that I met him but my first impression has to be limited, like all such brief before or after program encounters, to externals --the memory only of a cheerful, soft-spoken, affable man who might, at first impression have been a clergyman, (several of whom were in attendance). Rogers, who was born in Oak Park suburban Chicago, praised Frankl’s work highly; he and the Vienna-born Jewish psychiatrist Frankl with his Logotherapy, ironically enough and in a back-handed sort of way (and contrary to intent), probably helped to bring ordinary religious concepts back within the confines of clinical practice. Both men were avowed and vocal champions of their own particular efforts at saving mankind from itself, which as usual was sorely needed. It was Frankl, a survivor of three years of concentration camp imprisonment, who wrote that “Men” not only built the gas chambers at Auswitz but are also the ones who marched to their deaths with the Lord’s Prayer or Shema Yisrael on their lips. He advocated the importance of personal love as a core value in the ongoing struggle, using his own experiences as praxis and method. In an interview toward the end of his life he admitted to a long standing belief in God but did not, like his wife of later years (who was a practicing Catholic), follow even Judaism. Rogers, on the other hand, had become an avowed agnostic and in opposition to his rather dogmatic parents married a woman of whom his parents did not approve. He gave up his study for the Ministry in New York to follow the popular cultural trends of the 50s and 60s; he in fact became enamored of Buddhism and the Baha’i faith. His position was then clearly a version of humanistic as he continued, apparently, to overturn and undo the relatively rigid fundamentalism of his earlier years. It has been noted that Rogers’ “Fully Functioning Person” was similar to some Buddhist characterizations.

An example of Roger’s methods can be played out within a large county prison population with its potential for outbursts of violence, often sparked by frustrations common to prison life. Guards, usually police personnel, have to sit on top of all the “beefs”, real or fancied, that crop up daily. While there is undeniably a master-slave relationship between prison staff and inmates, there is also often an underlying parent-child relationship which may go some lengths in explaining problems of recidivism and apparent irrational reactions to incarceration. Within this relationship a sense of being understood is crucial to day-to-day relational stability. Consider the following scenario: Agitated prisoner approaches a guard in the open compound and asks, “Do you think I will be out of here by Christmas?” Guards could usually respond in one of two ways, both of which are known to the inwardly frustrated inmate as out-right fabrication. One is, “Oh sure you will be, don’t worry about it”, the other is, “How the hell do I know, I’m just doing my job?” The latter at least has the ring of truth, but represents another unhelpful and unconcerned attitude to the potentially explosive inmate. The Rogerian response is less rejective, something like; “Sounds to me that it is very important to you to leave here by Christmas.” Though it is not an answer that might lead later to a charge of false prophecy, the attention of the petitioner is in fact directed back at himself and away from the authority figure -- who has after all apparently understood the main concern. This is one example of Roger’s idea of felt empathy. At the same time it is unlikely that Rogers had forgotten what the Bible informs us in Proverbs 15:1; “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger”. (Most of us know this simple truism but how many remember it, let alone put it into practice?)

Rogers, a bright and somewhat “driven” man who was clever and innovative in his studies, was not however the sort of intellectual in the sense that obtained in the Vienna group; he was a mid-western lad torn between a study of the Scientific Agriculture of his successful business-man father and the rather narrow religiosity of his mother. Roger’s orientation to the external world was directed to the school and the classroom, towards which he devoted a lot of his writings. In his earlier years he tended to be inwardly private and not popular with his peers; his self had been closely restricted all during childhood and adolescence, at least to age twenty. His parent’s social attitude was described as recognizing that there were mostly a lot of fairly bad people in the world; one had to simply accept them and also to keep to one’s distance. At age twenty he enrolled in a university course entitled Why I Am Studying for the Ministry, but soon after dropped his ecclesiastical ambitions for the study of psychology. From then on he began to make it a principle of his life to try to regard all people as basically good and the “self”, his own and everyone else’s, to be presented to the world as an honest and open book. He saw Freud as a “genius” but looked to Otto Rank, more “self-empowered”, as his mentor. Freud, Rank, and even Frankl, were schooled in medicine and in psychoanalysis. They had undergone some form of training analysis, had received classical European schooling in historical antiquity, and were conversant with a world-view of both psychoanalytic and existential thought (as see Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, and Heidegger).

In short, they knew their cultural and clinical fundamentals, but in review the psychological concepts of Rogers may strike some as rather two-dimensional in nature, lending a solipsist character to his idea, (Philosophy 101?), that all that we know is what impinges on the self; therein one’s images of an inverted white triangle, a red triangle and a blue oblong always turn out to be a man in a blue suit with a white shirt and a red neck-tie. He wrote that all he could know for sure is what he himself experiences --“the touchstone of validity is my self”. Abraham Maslow, former APA president, who was at first agreeable to Rogers’ self actualization notions, later merely exclaimed, “Self, self, self!” The rather misleading simplicity of his therapeutic “method” even led to an early attempt at AI, or artificial intelligence. A professor at MIT, Joseph Weizenbaum (1967), developed a computer program named ELIZA which mimicked Rogers’ responses to his patients in treatment. That idea of computerized therapy was not offered seriously by the author nor was it taken as such except by some computer buffs who still see ELIZA as a curious game.

Listen Up! (continuation)

2005-05-08T22:44:00.000-07:00

Though rarely to be remembered for his computer counterpart, it should be recognized that in many other respects Carl Rogers was both famous and revered by many students, teachers, universities, peers, industrial leaders and clergy. But the question remains, why? One possibility is that his approach clearly “resonated” with the post WWII world, which seemed to greet the relief of peace-time as a space to catch up with a zeitgeist that had long been developing.

A view to bear in mind here is that we are, or most of us are, living in an ontology developing according to philosophical thought since the 18th century, which started when science began to offer to explain everything. That was about the same time that Friedrich Nietzsche’s Zarathustra spoke God dead, (along with the death of most objective truths). By the end of the new modern period of Enlightenment led by Rene Descartes, God was no longer seen as the center of the Universe –man had taken His place as the main force of cause and effect in the world. Unfortunately this tended to leave life without much meaning beyond itself; some thoughtful writers saw the modern and post-modern thinking as leading directly to Auschwitz and Hitler’s death camps, among other calamities. Scholar James Sire noted “a ‘postmodern’ despair of any universal standard for justice. Society then moves from medieval hierarchy to Enlightenment democracy to ‘postmodern’ anarchy.” Anarchy might, in some respects, be descriptive of the effects Rogers has had on some of those who followed him. Judith Thurman, staff writer for the New Yorker (May 2, 2005) puts it succinctly: “Men facing annihilation …They remind us that a mere eighty years ago ‘the death of God’ wasn’t a graduate conceit but a viscerally felt void of authority and grandeur that ideology rushed to fill. Action is (Malraux’s) cure for the ‘absurdity’of life in a universe without salvation.” (p. 101).

Rogers was the respected president of the American Psychological Association of 1947 who lived to personally influence many people for the next forty years. I remember a speaking visit to L. A. in 1966 by a past president of that association, O. Hobart Mower. By his time ideas of therapeutic public confession of one’s most apparently “sacrilegious” actions and impulses, i.e., being authentic rather than dominated by external rules and regulations, held sway. Mower’s confessions of youthful erotic explorations down on the farm mostly aroused feelings of embarrassment to listeners of other persuasions. About that period an attractive young woman was assigned to our clinic on a training assignment from a local college. During one of our tutorials she confided to me that her most recent advancement in personal growth was her realization that she wanted to defecate in the streets; it also soon occurred to her that she might find other local training opportunities more congenial to her clinical posture. (The suggestion that she complete her toilet training should perhaps have been offered).

But in that welter of self realization groups, sensitivity training, encounter group, classes and workshops where much the same “openness” was encouraged from participants eager to be freed of their crippling cultural bonds, the air was electric with attempts at change and self exposure. This was the beginning era of sexual freedom: Rogers and cohorts were much in demand as all walks of life seemed to desire “hip” status, including freedom from taboos and moral restrictions.

LISTEN UP (final part)

2005-05-08T16:43:00.000-07:00

Precisely because the work of Carl Rogers and other humanistic practitioners had such a deep and lasting effect on all walks of life it is important to understand what made it tick. Abraham Maslow was one of those practitioner/innovators who came to see, earlier than Rogers, that self-actualization can develop in both positive and negative directions. Maslow died in his middle sixties a rather remorseful man, as he finally recognized some of the massive flaws in their beliefs; he saw, for example, that when Rogers left science behind he had “swapped his belief in an objective realm of goodness and truth for the idea that what feels good really is good, at least in the personal sphere, as long as it is sincere.” (See W. R. Coulson, below). A couple of things that were wrong: (1) Rogers didn’t know how to say limiting phrases like “No, that is wrong, you can’t do that”, and (2), he had insisted on treating “normal” people. It is unclear if Rogers personally knew much about abnormal psychology or psychopathology, but he clearly wasn’t going to wait for patients to come from specialized groups as did most of his clinician peers. Since he felt everybody needed release from religious and cultural restriction, everyone became fair game. Virtually no one was saying, nor do I say now, that Rogers was a bad man; he may in fact have been something worse, a good man gone wrong –and that is bad.

To further his “therapeutic” ideas he called his efforts “client-centered”, to avoid “patient-centered”, but borrowed a key analytic concept from Freud’s work, which seemed to indicate that one is likely to be neurotic or crazy when resistance towards external moralistic demands or one’s libidinal impulses are repressed. He then pasted this blanket “diagnosis” on everyone in sight; it was pasted on the members of Catholic communities who had been led in droves into curious participation by misguided educators. And sure enough these people were repressed --but they were supposed to be! Instead of receiving help in deciding on, or living with, their principles, the Sisters of Immaculate Heart of Mary in L.A. were soon enthusiastic in becoming “self-realized”; by the middle 60’s this largest sisterhood had literally ceased to exist. They had all broken their Holy vows, a few had changed orders but many had given up celibacy to engage in homo- or heterosexual encounters.

This information is now well known (see also: Carl Rogers and the IHM Nuns: by E. Michael Jones, Ph.D. --Originally published in a book, Libido Dominandi; Sexual Liberation and Political Control –South Bend. St. Augustine Press, 1999). During the 1960’s William R. Coulson was a research associate to Carl Rogers and Abraham Maslow at Western Behavioral Sciences institute in La Jolla, California. He co-edited a 17 volume series on humanistic education with Rogers and helped him organize the country’s first program of facilitator training. Coulson himself later became deeply regretful of their “psychology” and indicated it was his belief that probably many of the sexual crimes by Catholic brothers or priests perpetrated upon children could be directly traced to effects of those encounter-group experiences in the 60’s. The dangers of permissiveness in practice is the theme of a paper given at a conference in 1995 entitled “You Can’t Do That: When Compassion Calls For Telling the Truth,” by W. R. Coulson, Ph.D. --in Collected Papers from the NARTH Annual Conference, Saturday, 29 July 1995. While a book of Rogers entitled The Emerging Person: Spearhead of the Quiet Revolution –in which he stated “homosexuality, bisexuality, and sexual freedom are given far greater social acceptance”, according to Coulson “Carl Rogers’ daughter and a diseased nun {a student IMH nun who contracted two sexually transmitted diseases} and an educator who was in the process of courting arrest had become heroic, along with others of their self-actualizing kind;… Not only was his daughter Natalie’s marriage in trouble at the time, her brother’s was too. The life commitments of the only two children Carl and Helen Rogers had were dissolving. The whole enterprise was imperiled –the future of the Rogers family including the future of six grandchildren.” The point here is not that these things couldn’t ever happen, but they happened to three people who had offered the world marital counseling and who were in the pursuit of proving their solution to life itself was a superior one. Carl and Helen Rogers had been married 54 years but they too faced divorce. As Coulson put it, “…the need had arisen for Rogers to defend against the claim that such a (moral) law is to be obeyed, or that it is even real. His children, his people, his tribe, the only tribe he had, were breaking it simultaneously”.

Long before his death in 1987, however, Rogers too began to cool some of his enthusiasm. As early as 1971 Coulson wrote that Rogers had “felt obliged to defend too many young victims… Finally this personal admission was heard in a tape recording circulated from La Jolla in 1976:

I started this damned thing and look where it’s taken us. I don’t know where it’s taking me. I don’t have any idea what’s going to happen next…And where’s it going to carry us? And did I start something that is in some fundamental way mistaken and that may lead us off into paths that we will regret…?”

It appeared the “quiet revolution” was losing it’s battle. His nemesis, moral values, was beginning to enter the fray as a refreshing back-lash. Some good things came out of the 50’s and 60’s, such as the Civil Rights movement, but Humanistic Psychology was not one of them. Stiffened moral fiber in the form of improved ethical and professional standards, with more stringent licensing laws and practice regulations in almost all the states, followed on the horror stories of past malfeasance.

I hinted earlier that Rogers may have helped unwittingly to bring ordinary religious issues back into psychotherapy; today the availability of Christian counseling is commonplace, and Christian, or Biblical and Theistic psychology is practiced and studied in our universities. Note a recent paper titled Scientific Psychology and Christian Theism by Harold D. Delany and Timothy F. Goldsmith of the University of New Mexico, 5/7/2005. This is an excellent short history of psychology and clearly shows that Biblical aspects of human psychology are now important issues –“hot”, you might say. And yes, we are being heard!

Tea-Bag Tags

2005-05-03T09:40:00.000-07:00

In later life it may be counter-productive to do things one has never done before. Until I happened recently to read a tag appended to a tea-bag I had not realized the great loss I have suffered through throwing, thoughtlessly, hundreds if not thousands of tea-bag tags away, unread, in bags of trash or garbage over the years.

For one thing the wisdom of the ages appears to be printed thereon, and I now see that as irretrievable. I have failed to avail myself of that tossed out wisdom. In addition to being left holding the bag, so to speak, bereft of such knowledge, there are the many attendant thoughts these tags might provoke; this maiden reading, as it were, is a formidable case in point. This one contained a quote from the writings of the honorable Booker T. Washington, prior to 1915, succinctly stated, and probably tersely too, “Success is to be measured not so much by the position one has reached in life as by the obstacles he has overcome.” There you have it -- you are your own arbiter of success! Dr. Booker T. surely had more experience with obstacles on the road to those positions in life than most; those positions undoubtedly include being quoted on tea-bag tags. That being, I now understand, one of the more enviable positions to be reached in life, now probably being occupied by the greater, more brilliant writers and thinkers of all time. It is clear that such messages are pitched to intellectual types, the sort of wise thinker I am sure I would have been had I only read all those tags. The idea of measurement is introduced in this quote by Dr. Washington, but not measures in terms of those discrete, objective units or intervals readily available to the popular minds and hearts of everyone else out there. It is apparently a measurement one can use without ending up helplessly judged by those other people, the kind of standard which I think I have been looking for some time.

Other people, I’ve discovered, do not have the faintest inkling of the tortuous obstacles I’ve encountered in reaching my present position of apparent nonentity; they have not walked a mile in my sandals, so to speak, nor would I have inflicted them with an opportunity to do so. This is the old story of rising out of obscurity only to become enmeshed in oblivion. It is immediately clear that the level of difficulty I have faced, the everyday obstacles I have had to contend with, puts me head and shoulders above many of my peers. It is also evident, that they do not recognize themselves as my peers; but they are not the only ones who have encountered resistances on the ladder to success. I too have found the going tough and will henceforth take my place among them, quietly, sans tea-bag fame. This is surely a case of the old wisdom that only the wearer knows where the shoe pinches, and only the sojourner of tribulation knows how badly it pinches –but whose complaining?

Taking Chances on My Street

2005-05-02T23:08:00.000-07:00

Today as I stepped out to the sidewalk a young woman on a bicycle rode briskly towards me down the center of the walk-way. I stepped backward (one “giant step”) to let her pass and noticed she wore a placid, serene, unchanging facial expression; her glance was straight ahead and unwavering. The thought struck me that it was the look of a person who was convinced she bore a charmed, invincible life. In uncanny confirmation she peddled out into the street without pausing, and on across a busy intersection. Apparently unmindful of near brushes with eternity she smoothly reached the opposite curbing and vanished from view.

On reflection, this sort of thing happens a lot on my street. Marked by a very busy four-way junction, its stop signs only seem to lend a spirit of risk-taking for both drivers and pedestrians – from all four directions. Many foot-sloggers out here, seemingly oblivious to the traffic, step off the sidewalk with or without benefit of the crosswalks, then amble towards various points across the vehicle studded thoroughfare.

We were taught at preschool age, if not before, to stop and look both ways before putting a foot out onto the macadam. That early training has not generally stood the test of time. For my part, having a certain respect for life and limb (at least mine), I do not emulate those ambulating lemmings out there mostly because I lack the ability to dodge quickly if need be. At least that version skirts the issue of cowardice, but in truth I tend to wince at any squeal of brakes in my street, the sound indicating a “charm” may have been broken.

The matter of faith comes in here, together with the question of faith misplaced. I admit a certain modicum of faith is required for me just to get out of bed on any given day; I probably lean on the everlasting arms in many routine, everyday situations – even in getting across the street. Other people seem to put a great deal of “faith” in the alertness as well as the good will, or the brakes, or gymnastic skills (say in the standing broad jump), of other wayfarers.

There is a serious error here, and one that is often overlooked. For one thing there is a very large difference between having confidence in something (or some one), and putting faith where it belongs. Armed with elementary science and some experience in everyday affairs I can gauge the confidence level to be expected of my traveling to the moon, (fairly low), or anticipating that my mail will be delivered to me rather than to my neighbor (usually a pretty sure thing, although mathematically there are no absolutely sure things in the realm of probability). In short, my confidence varies considerably with my small fund of knowledge and past experience, or alternatively how much confidence I feel in the word of friends or advisors. Having some idea of these confidence levels I may decide what chances to take.

We are really talking about the confidence we might have in the odds of some event occurring or not. With or without specialized information, over the long haul those odds will win out, but God can overcome them! Many times He offers Saving Grace to the faithful, but who are they?

As I think of it I realize that I do not, practically speaking, have faith in the weather patterns nor do I have confidence in them; the storms that rage and wreak havoc are not predictable to me and are simply to be avoided if possible. For similar reasons I do not have much confidence in my ability to cross my own street unless I look about with some caution first.

On that note, as long as we are differentiating between confidence and faith, I must hew to the difficult and to some the unthinkable: I seem to have much less faith in what I can see than what is unseen! But back to disasters, natural or unnatural for the moment; a passage in Luke is instructive to the weather-wise: “When you see a cloud rising in the west, immediately you say ‘It’s going to rain’, and it does. And when the south wind blows, you say ‘It’s going to be hot’, and it is. Hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and the sky. How is it that you don’t know how to interpret the present time?” (Luke 12:54-56). In this same passage some people in the crowd, like many people who today wonder why bad things happen, told Jesus of the report of Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus replied, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you no!… Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them – do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you no!” (Luke 13:1-5). Questions of weather aside, here the words of Jesus clearly suggest that the differences in those outcomes are not measured in degrees of sinning – we are all sinners, and to declare one’s self otherwise is risky. The issues are salvation and faith; those who have faith enough to repent of their sinfulness will live forever!

“For the power Thou hast given me to lay hold of
Things unseen:
For the strong sense I have that this is not my home:
For my restless heart which nothing finite can satisfy:
I Give Thee thanks, O God.”
John Baillie

Thomas the doubter needed to see for himself – Christ told us that even greater in the Kingdom are those who believe without having to touch his wounds. That is faith, as is the assurance that Paul showed when he said “Let God be true, and every man a liar”. (Ro 3:4). Then again, in worldly affairs the probability of anything being 100% true is impossible no matter how likely it seems; the law of averages tells us, (to the wonder and delight of many school kids ), that some day a pan of water will be placed on the fire – and it will freeze. The scientific community puts a high level of confidence in this effect even though no one has witnessed all instances of “water on stove”. We might say that this is a kind of worldly “faith” in things unseen. This sort of confidence is also implicit in the tenet “For every cause there is an effect, and for every effect a cause”. This too is a belief in the unseen, since not all cause and effect relationships have yet been witnessed.

There is a particularly knotty aspect to this problem because Original Cause appears never to have been discovered in any of life’s events. Science is very adept at putting together chains of events, one or more leading to yet another; this is done in a highly reliable and valid way and is referred to as empiricism among other things. When, however, one works backward to what seems to be the earliest event in a series, there is still no first, one and only, apparent reason for how – or why –- an event began to occur at all; there is always some condition before that one that needs explaining. You might try it with your friends: Start with some event such as how or why do plants grow, or why does the wind blow (i.e., warm air in the northern part of the state, cold front from the south, etc.). When you have gotten as far as you can in identifying one cause after the other, (with or without reference books), then ask why or how those special conditions existed to start the whole series of events in the first place. In the spiritual and emotional realm this question is frequently and poignantly asked in the form of “Why me, O Lord?”, when some unexpected and “unfair” calamity comes to pass. Fair or not, to my knowledge these questions have rarely been satisfactorily answered, and unless one knows what God knows, probably seldom will be. As in the passage from Luke above, Jesus immediately rejected human reasoning by his response: “causes” are not what you think in earthly terms! If and when we really need to have confidence in future events in our lives, earthly terms have limited usefulness; here we need faith, and faith is properly placed in the Lord – otherwise, blasphemy or at least idolatry; there is the ridiculous alternative of praying to a set of brakes or to on-coming pickup trucks. This brings us back to my street: That girl on the bike was either an example of divine intervention through prayer, (without moving her lips), or she was taking some mighty dumb chances in the hopes that the Lord had plans for her that did not include a hospital bed, or worse.

Helen Keller's Truth

2005-04-30T14:42:00.000-07:00

Do not look for truth, and truth will find you out. Searching for truth, on the other hand, can be a lackluster affair that rivals hard-rock mining. Resolving to try always to speak the truth may be useful only if one is not very talkative; to attempt to know what is true in every situation that arises is to fail early on. Truths have, to complicate matters, many forms. For example Helen Keller, rendered deaf, blind and without speech as an infant was noted in later life for observations such as the following: “The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of it’s heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker”. This is, among other things, as close to a truism as ever there was, but is it based on coherence, or correlation, or something like intuitive logic?

As a truism, there is a certain intrinsic, cohesive accuracy about the statement that does not easily brook a quibbler’s messing with it. At any illustrative (correlation) level confirmation may be ready to hand. The astronaut hero is paid tribute together with the geeks and nerds who collectively made the shot possible. To quibble over the term “honest worker” is to bring forth empirical evidence from the early Ford plant, and all the similar industrial plants, factories, mines and fields that have sopped up working lives; the average wage earner is generally honest from the effect of an internal regulator, not just from the time-keeper’s green-shaded gaze. People who work day in and day out always, at some level, try to take pride in their capacities to perform work, and to that extent alone if no other, fit the model of Kant’s ethical moral man. A worthy gentleman of letters, Studs Terkel, said it all very well in his now famous books.

Within some eight or so theories of truth philosophers are far from agreement, except to agree there is probably no satisfactory theory to fit all cases they can dream up. One case in point is called the Liar Paradox; known for at least 2300 years, this still stumps theoreticians. Sigmund Freud, if and when he ever read the New Testament, noted the paradox from these words of Paul: “One of themselves, even a prophet of their own, said the Cretans are always liars”. The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy has it this way: “Experts in the field of philosophical logic have never agreed on the way out of the trouble… Here is the trouble – a sketch of the Liar Argument that reveals the contradiction: (1) the statement made by a Cretan that all Cretans are Liars. For example, if (1) is true, then (1) is false. On the other hand assume (1) is false. Because the Liar Sentence is saying precisely that (namely that it is false), the Liar Sentence is true, so (1) is true. We have now shown that (1) is true if and only if it is false. Since (1) is one or the other, it is both….The contradictory result throws us into the lion’s den of semantic incoherence.” Perhaps it is no great wonder that we look further for what is so rare – or clearly true.

While there have been some clever solutions proposed for the Liars dilemma since the 4th Century BC, it has become more of a game than a search for essentials; the Bible has other things to say about truth-telling than Paul’s remark about Cretans. “It is not Socrates or Kant or Nietzsche who made this question famous, but Pilate: What is Truth?” So states an article appearing in the Christ Community Church bulletin of 11/13/02. A dialogue is taken from John.18:37: “Pilate therefore said unto Him, ‘Are you a king then?’ Jesus answered, ‘You say rightly that I am a king. For this cause I was born, and for this cause I have come into the world, that I should bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice’. Pilate said to him, ‘What is truth?’

Here there seemed to be two sorts of truths: Pilate’s truth was that no matter what brought Jesus into this world, he was surely going to die. Pilate, in a rather postmodern stance, held sufficient worldly power to make it happen. Jesus indicated that those who hear his voice know the truth -- at that time and forever. As it happened, in a correlation sense both spoke truth but history shows that Pilate’s truth was short lived; in fact, Pilate testified by his own words that “I find no fault in him at all.” (John 18:38). The fact that truth can be elusive and contradictory is only too familiar to all those who most earnestly seek it. From an article in Frontline Ministries, Postmodern Truth Versus Biblical Truth by D. M. Lorenzini, it is clearly put forth that “Postmodern thought has greatly influenced contemporary culture. The hallmark of postmodern thought is the death of truth. Don Matzat noted, ‘The only absolute truth that exists in the postmodern mentality is that there is no such thing as absolute truth, and so far as the postmodern scholar is concerned, that is the absolute truth.”

Contradictory it is, but bear in mind that we are, or most of us are, living in an ontology or world view, according to “thinkers” since the1700s, when science began to offer to explain everything. It was about the time that Friedrich Nietzsche’s Zarathustra announced that God is dead, along with the death of truth. This work is thought to have already begun to herald the end of the new Modern period of Enlightenment lead by Rene Descartes. In the Modern period God was no longer seen as the center of the Universe – man had taken His place as the main force of cause and effect in the world. Unfortunately this left life without much meaning beyond itself; some bright and thoughtful writers saw the modern and post modern thinking as leading directly to Auschwitz and Hitler’s death-camps among other calamities. Older philosophers believed that there is an essential reality, it can be defined and yields objective truth. Idealists like Plato, Kant, Descartes and others considered objective truth to be verifiable. In our own time however, no longer are truths to be self evident, or even evident by logic. What “works” in the observable world and largely what you choose it to be is truth. James Sire noted, “There has been a movement from (1) a ‘premodern’ concern for a just society based on revelation from a just God to (2) a ‘modern’ attempt to use universal reason as the guide to justice to (3) a ‘postmodern’ despair of any universal standard for justice. Society then moves from medieval hierarchy to Enlightenment democracy to postmodern anarchy.”* From this it may appear to some that philosophically we are no closer to verifiable truth here than we are with the Liars Paradox. Why did not the famous Helen Keller seem to share such confusions? Surely input from the empirical world of the senses was even less for her than for others.

One may tend to get uneasy at this point, if only to recall words we hear used every day: tricky, shrewd, wily, designing, sly, deceitful, crafty, guileful, sneaky, shifty and the like without even saying “liar”. These are real concerns because their opposites, verifiable truths, are being disregarded. Without turning the clock back, we may ask, “What is Biblical Truth?” John, in several verses, saw truth as the opposite of falsehood and lies. John is given credit for the perception that truth is theocentric, absolute – “rooted in God”. The two virtues: Truth is theocentric and absolute, and truth is correspondent to reality. Among American Evangelical theories correspondence theory is the most prevalent. Thus truth is opposite to falsehood and lies, and corresponds to things as they really are. “Truth finds its absoluteness in God, that is, because God is absolute, truth is absolute. Because God is authentic, real, genuine, perfect reality, all truth corresponds to reality.”

As evidence of the strength of Grace, brave and persistent individuals push back against the tide of worldly, cultural philosophy (of the beast) in both word and way of life -- in word and deed. Very few of us have had to cope with anything like the dark, silent, remote life of Helen Keller, and fewer still have left a legacy so emblazoned on an even darker universe. She amazingly came to the Lord at age sixteen and never faltered in her efforts at bringing faith and loving-kindness to a large part of the rest of the unseeing world; many of whom suffered their own form of “blindness”. She said of her religious convictions, “It has given color and reality and unity to my thought of the life to come; it has exalted my ideas of love, truth, and usefulness; it has been my strongest incitement to overcome limitations.” This from a woman who refused to accept her handicaps and who at twenty four graduated from Radcliffe College cum laude. For herself she made only a modest living, but raised millions of dollars for those with impaired sight and hearing around the world. She traveled the globe six times over, visited dignitaries from every land and spoke of the plight of the sense-deprived but also their promise and potential – their unrecognized ability to render service to society.

Helen Keller was the first woman to receive an honorary degree from Harvard University, she met and spoke with world leaders – Churchill, Nehru, Einstein, Roosevelt, Eisenhower, Kennedy – she touched the hands of soldiers blinded in war, she embraced children. From a six year old “untamed little creature’ who kicked, pinched, scratched, smashed dishes, and ate with her hands, she was described by her biographers as “made of the strong and shining stuff that the Lord saves for his saints”. Her benefactor William Wade called her “the embodiment of purity”, and writer Lawrence Hutton said of first meeting Keller: “We felt as though we were looking into a perfectly clear, fresh soul … who absolutely knows no guile and no sorrow; from whom all that was impure and unpleasant had been kept”. It is also written however, that “Keller’s fight was waged on an interior battleground – the field of the human spirit. It was a lifelong battle against despair and disillusionment, the inner enemies to which she refused to yield. ‘Truly I have looked into the heart of darkness,’ she wrote’ and refused to yield to its paralyzing influence, but in spirit I am one of those who walk in the morning.” In fact she even piloted an open-cockpit airplane; when asked if she had been frightened during her plane flight, she responded, “How could fear hold back my spirit, long accustomed to soar?” Eleanor Roosevelt called her “the embodiment of courage”, Keller said “Life is either a daring adventure or it is nothing”.

She was not always in so positive a mood, she admitted doubts and periods of loneliness: Writing in a mood of sadness, she once said, “What earthly consolation is there for one like me, whom fate has denied a husband and the joy of motherhood? At the moment my loneliness seems a void that will always be immense.” She also wrote at another time, “No one knows – no one can know – the bitter denials of limitation better than I do. I am not deceived about my situation. It is not true that I am never sad or rebellious. But long ago I determined not to complain. The mortally wounded must strive to live out their days cheerfully for the sake of others. That is what religion is for – to keep the heart brave to fight it out to the end with a smiling face. This may not be a very lofty ambition. But it is a far cry from surrendering to fate. But to get the better of fate, even to this extent, one must have the work and solace of friendship, and an unwavering faith in God’s plan of good”.

It is said by students of Keller that her religion was larger than any organized church – “her Lord was Jesus Christ, the gentle, forgiving Nazarene, who rose above sorrow and crucifixion. In Him, she saw the great smiling God of all souls, encompassing multitudes and showering all with unceasing love, wisdom, and power. Keller knew that God’s true church – the Kingdom of Heaven – is not here or there, but within each person. And that is why she could rise above all theological language and philosophical systems to proclaim: “ I believe that life is given us so that we may grow in love, and I believe that God is in me as the sun is in the color and fragrance of a flower – the Light in my darkness, the voice in my silence.”

Why then, we ask, do wise men and savants find truth so difficult, when clearly those who, like Helen Keller, have “heard the truth” and live it every day? (Quotes are from current literature).

A New Day

2004-12-26T22:07:00.000-08:00

AN OLD NEW DAY, 2005

“So here hath been dawning another new day; think, wilt thou let it pass useless away…?”

It is one of those posers that pop up almost at random, and like most of it’s kind somehow manages to make me feel guilty; they also seem mostly unanswerable and make no immediate sense. After all, what is useful to one is useless to another, and having done some of my daily chores the question still stands unanswered; are they useful enough? Are they, in the grand scheme of things, useful at all? My basic humility rarely moves me to action anyway because getting too useful may only arouse envy in the hearts of other lay-abouts who have long since given up the struggle. More to the point however, what is confronted here is another NEW YEAR.

Here hath been dawning another New Year; this indeed is a challenge. I seem to be asked just what I am going to do about it; just how different, and presumably better, do I plan to be in the year to come. Having seen some fairly useless years come and go with only a smidgeon of personal improvement here and there, my resolve is about as firm as a wet noodle –not even al dente. Like all the other truisms which sound good at first blush, (and may in fact evoke some blushing, such as “slow and steady does it” right after I have rushed headlong into some quick-fix that bogs down), never quite tells me precisely what “it” does, or why. My first impulse is still to do nothing at all –wallowing in unrepentant sloth.

But perhaps with a different attitude one could at least slim down or trim up, join a spa or hire a personal trainer. Or learn to sing, tap-dance, take up the zither or the harp, learn magic tricks and be the life of any party, even arise in the early dawn and jog a couple of miles before breakfast. Eating breakfast and getting out of bed would be a start –and eat healthy don’t forget --all those carrots and greens –no more cakes and pies for lunch. The most obvious improvement would, it seems, be for me to become a lot different than I am.

But now surely is the time to take heart. I have decided (in the nick of time this year), that most other people do not appear to change much at all once majority has been reached –nor shall I, probably. A philosopher has said the kind of thing his sort often say, “Greet each day as a new lifetime”, but my persistent, ordinary humanity will this year try to solve the problem of newness and change by falling back on some old routines, by in fact changing very little in the face of the cataclysmic changes crashing down around us. Here I hide within the words of B.F. Skinner, a behaviorist (one I cared little for in the past), who wrote, and very probably said aloud: “The older I get, the more I become me”. (No wonder my past New Year’s resolutions are always broken; I must have tried too hard to be somebody different. Am I the only one who has tried to cope with new problems in faddish, unfamiliar new ways? At least I always give up easily). Now the real question is revealed: with what methods or wisdom already provided to me, do I intend, as it were, to gird up my as yet un-girded loins to greet the coming year?
Remembering that my son Douglas just the other day suggested that I reread Galatians, I find that the Apostle Paul had written, (in a tone of dismay), “I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you by the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel – which is really no gospel at all.” He went so far as to address them as “You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? (Gal.1-6. 3-1). Paul was referring to something already learned, something that had stood revealed, and something I was apparently now ignoring –possibly to my own detriment. For Paul, coming to terms with this life and the next included those conditions of justification and renewal, which comes only through faith in Jesus Christ; not through reliance on regimens, “religiosity”, fads, spells, magic or man-made laws. Go and do likewise, the words seemed to say. My New Year’s resolve is clear, may yours be likewise. Love and HAPPY NEW YEAR to my children, my children’s children, and to one and all!

The Pro

2004-05-24T14:57:00.000-07:00

It became clear, on reflection, that this would really be a story of a great many lives. Even one life might qualify it as a saga which, (if sufficiently true to that life), usually carries the weight of many. In order to pass as quickly as possible into the less problematic third person, the central figure is referred to as the Protagonist, or Pro, for short. Changes in usage are gradually taking place, but for clarity she/he will be he, which is probably not as unrealistic as may first appear.

To begin with, memory served hardly at all when trying to pin-point just when Pro had started to emerge from his own first home into the outside world. By then scenes of earlier times were fading. He could see his own progression had followed, as it has in most everyone’s 3x5 sepia-toned or glossy photo album, in an increasing series of perceptual changes, along with lives other than his own. Eventually these changes led to events for which present memory serves very well. The more memorable ones, when (and if) they occur at all in anyone’s life, consist mostly of movements away, into new group settings: Military service, college or university, prison, the streets, a job or workplace, marriage, a gang, a different piece of geography, another family, a funeral; not only did new people pop up, but familiar ones occasionally suffered sea changes and became somehow either imperceptibly or radically different, or absent; life itself changed, surged and expanded into an entirely different world view. These were times to move on, to move out -- carrying baggage; trunks or worn suitcases from a musty closet, or sea bag, paper sack or box, pockets, or just memories from what was being left behind of our first identity; but never all of it – we hastily gather up and hold close what seems valuable at the time—some of the odd shaped articles such as genetic inheritance and state of health, for example, go along, as we take care to ask for, (and hopefully to receive), what food or money might be available to us. (In Pro’s case it took the military to provide the impetus for the “exodus”).

Though usually seen as less dramatic, youthful growing-up experiences could be equally explosive in their time: Stolen fruit, prideful personal feats in schoolyard or neighborhood, even if undeserved -- the heady experiences of quasi-sadistic or aggressive impulses on the part of others or one’s own approval seeking; fantasies of glory dreamed up during the movies or other agar of pop-culture; delight in possessions, (because different, as-good-as, or better than those of others); secret bits of self- image not fit for publication, a fund of which grows bigger and more difficult to suppress with every passing year. As in old songs, “high hopes” and aspirations are frequently part of the standard exit gear. And girls, who were of course, a different matter altogether.

There were always girls around, sisters and others who mostly shoved him and ran away, hurled provocative insults or laughed at him in those early years. He obliged them mostly by returning the favors in kind. But he also began to realize there was a power of some indefinable sort involved in these sporadic contacts; as time passed they became more emotionally charged, more compelling. Pro’s tendency was to blame his mother for sensitizing him to the relative frequency and importance of girls in his life; later on, since it made more sense and was more convenient to do so, he blamed the girls; (he tended, quite defensively, to practice the blame-game early on). Mostly he wondered just what they wanted or expected from him; he thought he knew, more or less, what he wanted from them, but that seemed clearly contingent on other, often unrelated issues. A dignified job, with an income of sorts, (the more the better), seemed important in the then current mating practices of his species; after hitting the streets most of his time and effort was invested in pursuit of financial security of one sort or another. There is a quaint folk-myth in Pro’s country that goes: By investing time and energy into someone else’s capital venture, the worker who is worth his hire will be compensated as fully as he has any right to expect, all things considered. This open-and-shut proposition was the beginning and end of it; the only other considerations concerned the inalienable rights of the employer. Unfortunately several small, “sinful” difficulties are omitted in this quaint homily, such as the frequent unavailability of suitable work; available or not, other mandatory contributions were not listed under tax deductibles, like the requirements for devotion to the material things that are supposed to make it all possible. Ostensibly working for food and drink and shelter, these items proved to become both the instruments of pathetic efforts at re-creation and the progenitors of poor health and illness. Joy, happiness or passion tended to be in short supply.

We are not talking only clock-time here; Pro was giving away youthful years, and the energy and opportunities to explore other venues and verities. His limited and constricted capacity to devote himself to anything higher than a personal economic “ground zero” ignores the most valuable item of all, time itself -- and the creative imagery that goes with it. Pro is not dull-witted, but in a sense he is blind. He knows something very important is missing from his existence, and being the materialist that he has been and is, his solution is to seek out happiness in the form of goods and services of a costly sort.

Though not stupid, Pro is human enough to do stupid things – he now goes out of his way to borrow on credit, live high on the hog, and here the story becomes old stuff indeed. His decision to “let the Devil take the hindmost” is in danger of being readily accepted as an invitation to the inevitable. Here the classic melodrama picks up speed as our hero sinks lower and lower -- and lower. Pro in fact finds that his notions of high living have become, due to the lowering effect already noted, more of an anti-poverty advert for UNICEF. He feels hungry, helpless and Hell-bound, surely a line for a Cockney to recite. Now back to the chase.

Seriously, out of the collapse of fortunes and the failure of hopes and dreams to materialize, there frequently appears evidence of an eternal, seemingly distant light -- not just when sought for, but when our defensive guard against saving grace is at its lowest ebb. In Pro’s case it came with the realization that somehow that life did not have to be a jumping-off place for despair; for him it came with dim memories of a time gone by, (perhaps within a faded early family portrait), when faith and security had set the scene. A certain difficulty shows itself just now, when people such as Pro (who is called Pro now with good reason – he is no longer a novice, at any rate), surveys his past history and questions whether it is too late to turn back -- back to innocence and to his Lord of long ago.

“Can I return to my Father’s house?” His earthly father never had a house, and besides he had always thought the “Prodigal Son” was some kind of pet name. Just here it should generally be understood that prodigality implies two rather different effects: (1), the traditional spending of too much, wasting money or other resources; wasteful and extravagant. (2), Rich abundance; profuseness: the prodigality of jungle growth. In order to realize the second part of the definition one needs to understand that the whole familiar Biblical passage is a parable after all. It is not about an earthly father that loves his son so much; symbolism is relied on to reveal an important aspect of God’s love, available to all who would return to their Father’s house. We are familiar also with the parable of the day laborers who were hired on at the eleventh hour to work in a vineyard; it is never too late for those who come forward.

There is, over and above our material underpinnings, a vital spiritual dimension needed to give meaning to what we do. Lacking such a meaning all the rest becomes a truly prodigious expenditure; it would appear that Pro had been in the process of spending all his material goods by just living in the world he knew --or thought he knew. As he reopened this spiritual dimension he was blessed anew. Incidentally, our Pro(digal) had kinfolk who, after his gala return, did not feel he deserved all that “fatted calf” business --neither did Pro.