Wednesday, December 13, 2017

How Flexible is Your World View: or Weltangschuung, if you're into that sort of thing

What is your world view?  World view is a common phrase used to describe one’s construction of what the world looks like and how it operates.  We could get fancy and call it Weltangschuung, but let’s stick with world view.  In fact let’s mess with it as ordinary people interested in how we and others see the world about us in the context of everyday life.

Each of us has a mental image or map of what the world looks like and how it operates, but not everyone can describe it in terms others can easily understand.  They may not even be able to describe it in terms they understand, but their everyday conversation and assumptions about how things are speak on their behalf.  Each world view has to start somewhere, and that somewhere is us and our immediate surroundings.  Beyond that, some can see far, and some not.  Some worlds encompass the known universe, and some are limited to what can be seen and experienced within convenient reach.  Some are insatiably curious about what is yet to be discovered, others are content with what they’re sure they already know.  Variations between them are infinite. 

Over the years, I’ve been on fire and medial calls where the victims and their families lived in a world so small it barely encompassed their immediate surroundings and a few friends.  What they understood about those small worlds were assumed to be true about most things outside them.  They were aware of people living in different worlds, but those other worlds might as well have been on other planets, so irrelevant were they to anything faced on a day-to-day basis.  A borderline homeless friend lives in three worlds.  One exists for a few days at a time, limited to what is needed to survive them.  Another exists as the perfect town of warm, friendly people where he will at last have a nice job and comfortable home.  The final one exists in the memory of his lifetime of higher education and many travels.  Which one gets presented depends on mood and medication.  You’ve probably met, or are related to, people who’ve lamented that you don’t live in their world, and they can’t understand the world you live in, so it would be better if you didn’t interact at all. 

What I’ve been observing lately is the disorientation that occurs when one’s world view is demonstrated to be incorrect, or when different worlds collide.  World views are built from the bottom up beginning with family, close friends and neighborhoods.  We establish concrete images of who they are and how they function in the immediate world of everyday life.  No doubt early childhood educators have a deeper understanding of how that happens, but I’m more interested in the world view we developed in early adulthood.  It’s from that place that we construct understandings of events, people, and places as they unfold in our adult lives.  When a well developed adult world view is locked in, anything that reveals its errors is disorienting.  It creates uncomfortable questions.  Who am I in relationship to him, her, them, if he, she, they are not who I thought they were?  What am I if the articles of belief that define me are no longer true?  How do I accommodate events in the greater world, if my immediate world no longer works the way I always knew it did?

Disorientation like this can happen in small and big ways.  Here’s a small way example.   An old friend I haven’t seen in over twenty years recently wrote challenging my politics based on what he remembered from the Reagan era.  For him, that moment in time forever fixed who I am in relationship to who he is today.  It’s mildly disorienting to step into an old relationship confident that you know who the other is, only to discover they aren’t there.  In fact, they don’t even exist anymore.  Anyone who has gone to a high school reunion, having been away for several decades, knows what that feels like. 

On a more serious note, family members who separate to far distant places often assign attributes to their now distant relatives that were fixed in their adolescent years.  Coming together after many years of separation forces them to ask, ‘Who are these people?  If they’re not the people I always thought they were, who am I in relation to them?’  That can be tough if one’s self identity is rooted in a family structure that no longer exists.  ‘Who am I if I am not who I thought I was?’ is as uncomfortable and disorienting as any question could be.

The cornerstones on which our views of the world are constructed are often anchored deeply in how we define our place in our families of origin, and among friends and coworkers in our formative young adult years.  When those cornerstones get  moved, or destroyed, it’s possible that everything else will collapse.  It probably won’t, but amidst the disorientation of it all, reconstructing a workable world view can be hard to do.  Some can’t.

Among a few fundamentalist acquaintances is the fear that if something in the bible is proved to be untrue (as they have learned what truth is), the whole thing would become untrue.  So they cling to their beliefs in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary to preserve the order that gives sense to their lives.  That kind of fundamentalism isn’t limited to religion.  I see the same dynamic in one of our frequent letter writers to the local paper.  His world view is fixated on climate change as a hoax.  It’s the cornerstone of his world.  Without it, nothing else makes sense, so he has to hold on.  A farmer I know follows his life long way of farming in the face of evidence and advice to the contrary.  All the evidence may be against him, but to admit it would destroy everything he holds to be true, so he angrily hangs on.

All of us experience discomfort when our world views are challenged.  Challenges closer to how we construct our everyday lives, or how we define ourselves in relationship to those closest to us, create the greatest discomfort and disorientation.  What’s the best way to confront it?  Rage and stubbornness are the defensive moves of many.  Maybe anything else is too scary.  On the other hand, not everyone is so inflexible. 

When a worldview is defined as comfortable with adventure, curiosity, and delight in discovering new truths, I suspect it can be challenged with less discomfort, and greater willingness to make appropriate amendments.   One of my favorite examples is Sgt. Waldo Peterson, long deceased.  A local policeman in my hometown, he was a high school drop out who devoured most of the books in the local library, and lived in a world of ideas through which new worlds were constantly open to exploration.  Without his mentoring I would never had made it through 19th century Russian history, which I barely did.  There are others: physicians who thrive as musicians; a public relations consultant who is a community activist; an orchestra conductor who works on the west coast, lives on the east coast, and can drive a tractor with the best of any farmer; a retired cosmetic executive who has become a widely respected artist; a CFO who is a world class nature photographer.  Each of them, and others like them, seem to have dynamic world views able to accommodate new information without threatening foundational values because one of those values is to be open to new things.  


I wish it was possible to teach others how to be more flexible in their world views, and how to develop skills needed to successfully address disorienting change.  I have yet to see much evidence that there is.  I’m sure there are those out there who offer stimulating TED Talks and workshops, but they require willing students, and people stuck in inflexible world views are not willing.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Relationships: The Rules have Changed

Tom and I meet for coffee every Saturday morning: a philosopher and a half baked theologian.  Recently relationships and friendships were the topic of conversation, and I’ve been thinking about them ever since.  Take romantic relationships for instance.  There was a time not long ago when there was only one allowable romantic relationship – between a male and a female.  There were rules.  Males asked females out, not the other way round, except on Sadie Hawkins Day, and few today know who she was.  Females acted seductive, in age appropriate ways, to signal availability.  Males responded, up to certain limits, after which all was negotiable.  If all went well, men married women.  It was not usually said that women married men, unless their name was Gabor.   All was as it should be because men were stronger, women weaker, men smarter, women prettier, men earned, women spent, etc.

Obviously there were variations.  Such were the fodder of movies and soap operas.  Outliers were well known, mostly because they were outliers.  That WWII was fought with women doing everything men had done, faster, to higher standards, more efficiently, was soon shoved onto a shelf to be remembered as a historical anomaly.  It was simple, the limits of variability were generally understood, and no one was confused.  

It’s not that there weren’t alternatives.  There were, but they were publicly condemned, often illegal, generally ignored, and many were simply ignorant of them.  They were in the closet.  I recall two old maid school teachers from my youth.  They had lived together for decades, and everyone thought, ‘Oh, how nice that two spinsters could share a house all these years.’  Then there was the rising young executive who preferred his socially active bachelor life, and set ups with attractive young women never seemed to pan out.  I mean, holy cow, the guy was another Rock Hudson, and women adored him.  If anyone guessed, they kept to themselves. 

Things have changed.  They’ve been changing for at least two long generations, and if any Rip Van Winkle needed to be knocked upside the head with a two-by-four to wake them up, the recent spate of sexual assault demolition derby losers should have been it.  
The dominant romantic relationship remains heterosexual, but the old rules for how they develop and are lived out have been tossed out.  There are new ones.  Just like the old ones, they’re not written down; they’re just understood.  Younger folks seem OK with that.  Many older folks are totally lost, and grope, so to speak, for understanding.  Romantic relationships that are not heterosexual are more widely accepted in more places, and it’s more clearly understood that non heterosexual relationships are not all about sex.  Like any other, they’re more about living in relationship with one another through the ordinary events of life.  We’ve become close to a number of gay couples whose daily lives are filled with hot desire to do what?  The laundry, prepare meals, go to work, mow the lawn, take out the garbage, enjoy a quiet evening, and even have a date night.  Wow!  Who knew?

Interracial relationships, in the most heavily populated parts of the country, no longer raise eyebrows.  Biracial and multiracial children are no longer the odd exception.  They’re all over the place, and that’s a good thing, at least for the generations that will follow them.  Many in the older generations are still perplexed about that, and struggle to appear accepting even if they aren’t.   Speaking only for my own family, we’re a goofy mix of European, Asian, and Polynesian. 

But wait, that’s not all!  We’re learning that the simplicity of there being only male or female is not true, it never was.  Some persons are born with the physical attributes of one, but the genetic makeup of the other.  They’ve finally emerged from the background in which they’ve always lived to claim what medical science can at last deliver – a correction that will unify their physical, spiritual, and emotional being.   Women who were trapped in a man’s body are not gay, they’re heterosexual women trapped in a man’s body.  Oh, wait, maybe they are lesbians, but they’re still trapped in a man’s body. The same goes for men trapped in a woman’s body.  How can that be?  Don’t get all uptight about it.  That’s just the way combinations and permutations work.  But that’s abnormal, some insist.  It’s not abnormal, as in morally wrong, it’s unusual, but not abnormal.  And no, God is not concerned about it, in spite of what some think the bible says.

So what about friendships?  I mean ordinary civilian friendships, not those formed in the crucible of war.  They follow the same pattern.  We’re now more free to enjoy friendships drawn from a more diversified palette without, hopefully, being accused of perverted intentions.  Harry, of Harry and Sally, was wrong.  Men and women can be friends.  Blacks and whites can be friends.  Gays and straights can be friends.  Conservatives and liberals can be friends.  A recent news video about Pennsylvania state representative Daryl Metcalf has been widely featured on the internet.  He went into a homophobic rage when a colleague touched his arm during a debate over land easements.  Mr. Metcalf, a confirmed and fearful heterosexual, has not yet learned that other men, gay or straight, can be formal or friendly, and sometimes a touch is just a touch, not an invitation to sex.  It can be just an absent minded gesture in a debate about easements.  Again, speaking only for myself, I’m not a man who likes touches or hugs from most people.  It’s my Minnesota upbringing.  When I moved to NYC in the early ‘80s, I found cheek kissing from almost everyone to be intensely uncomfortable.  But there are some, a few, friends I know well, both men and women, gay and straight, from whom a modest hug is welcome.  There are really only three rules one needs to know.  One, don’t invade another’s space unless invited.  Two, don’t take offense if not invited.  Three, absent minded invasions happen.  Take them in stride.   

But I digress.  Friends are a treasure.  Don’t create barriers to keep them from developing.  Open doors to allow them in.  This from a convicted introvert who has learned to enjoy the friendship of extroverts – in modest measure of course.

  

Thursday, December 7, 2017

Overreaching, heavy handed, hysterical, looney tunes

Each day I scan through several on line newspapers, look at a couple of news aggregators that include a wider array of sources, and top it off with a little listening to NPR and the BBC.  As each reports on the ebb and flow of the political debate, I’ve noticed that partisans on both side, but particularly the far right, use hyperbolic adjectives to describe ordinary words and actions from the other side.  They’re more sophisticated versions of the old playground “are too-am not” repartee we all know so well, and handy tools to fend off having to answer hard questions. 

A recent t.v. commentator described one senator’s calm, rational but tough questioning as ‘hysterical’.  When pressed on it, he simply said it was his opinion, as if that made it OK.  Other common examples include ‘heavy handed’ and ‘overreach’ to describe any government action one doesn’t like.  Someone who confidently expresses a well thought out position is said to be ‘out of control’.  Almost anything can be called a ‘job killer’. Anyone not a right winger is described as a ‘far left zealot’, while those who are not liberal enough are ‘far right zealots’.  If all else fails, calling someone a Looney Tune will do.   

A representative of the cattle industry complained about heavy handed regulations that stifle ranchers and feedlot operators.  What regulations might he have considered not heavy handed? None.  That regulations are intended to protect the public health and welfare is irrelevant.  Cattlemen know how to raise cattle.  Just leave them alone, quit interfering with what they know best how to do.  Government interference in how their practices impact on others is of no concern, so go away.

In like manner, public management of public lands is overreach to those who live near them, and want to use them as if they were their private property.  As they argue, the land belongs to the people, not the government, and, since they’re the people who live nearby, they’re the people it belongs to.  Who does it not belong to?  Tourists, Indians, and tree huggers who want to preserve natural and archeological treasures.  Overreach, it’s all overreach.  

To be fair, government regulators and public land managers often forget they’re in the business of customer service, with the goal of assisting their clientele in meeting standards.  Instead, they see themselves as enforcers in search of offenders.   Heavy handed overreach may be more an issue of customer service than anything else.  How hard would it be to change that?

In other news, a proposed bulk terminal in the Pacific Northwest that would be used mainly to ship coal to Asia was stopped over environment concerns.  Shippers and construction unions complained ‘out of control’ government ‘overreach’ had ‘killed jobs’.  Apparently jobs outrank all other considerations.  If a project promises high paying construction jobs, that’s all that counts.  Jobs win over everything else.  You’ve got to be completely ‘out of control’ to disagree with that.  It’s true that we all want more well paid jobs, but there’s always a but.  But we want them for projects we agree are worthwhile for the good of region and nation.  Determining what is good will always include measures of impact on quality of life, the environment, long term economic viability, and general welfare.  Jobs alone, at any wage level, cannot be the sole determining factor.  Labeling opponents who have good reason as out of control doesn’t help.  Geez, you don’t have to get all hysterical over it.  Get a grip you Looney Tune.

Using hyperbolic adjectives to describe something one doesn’t like is a way to avoid making a calm, rational argument that invites conversation through which agreement might be reached.  How did we get to a place like this?  Ad hominem name calling has been fashionable for centuries.  It’s not a new thing.  What’s new is the pervasiveness of talk radio and t.v. personalities who have made it routine, acceptable, and ubiquitous.  It’s all over the place.  All day, every day.  You cant get away from it.  Millions of people, submerged under the daily barrage, have adopted the practice as their own normal behavior, and, thanks to social media, they can broadcast it without fear of contradiction, except from those hysterical out of control Looney Tunes who disagree with them.



Tuesday, December 5, 2017

'Tis the Season of Holiday Cheer

‘Tis the season to be jolly; ‘tis the season of the holidays.  Into the three biggies claimed by Christians – Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas – are interwoven others celebrating their own religious and ethnic heritages.  There are plenty of holidays to dive into, including the most secular of them all, New Year’s Eve.  Then, after weeks of being jolly, we bellyflop into the doldrums of January.  

But what exactly is being celebrated?  It’s debatable, and passionately debate we will, because the holiday season rests on two incompatible foundations.  One is the religious significance of each holiday, the other is a collection of secular customs that compete with religious meaning.  It creates problems of balance.  Some are fearful of disrespecting, even abandoning, religious convictions in favor of secular partying?  In fact, most Christians have a foot in each camp.  Speaking as a pastor, I think we can honor religious faith, each in our own way, and also have a good time celebrating with friends and family.  Those of other faiths can also have a good time celebrating without transgressing their values.  The unreligious are free to do as they choose, and most choose to enter into the spirit of the season.  

With that said, the spirit of the season needs to be unpacked, at least a little, and the reality of how that spirit is experienced needs to be more honestly addressed. 

Halloween, for instance, is one part Christian holy day, and one part secular holiday.  On the Christian side, it’s All Hallows Eve, an evening of preparation for the solemn remembrance of all the saints whose lives have given inspiration to generations of others.  On the secular side, it’s a spooky fun night of confronting anxieties about ghosts and demons through costumes, decorations, parties, and children going door to door begging candy.  The children, of course, have no idea why they’re doing it, they’re just out having fun.  In a congregation I once served, we tried to get kids to dress as their favorite saints.  What we got were costumes of favorite super heroes, and who can blame them?  After all, what did St. Gerard wear, and who cares? 

Thanksgiving is another oddity.  Every culture has fall harvest festivals of one kind or another, and we have ours, Thanksgiving.  It was a secular holiday from the start, initiated by politicians as a way to bring the nation together for at least one day.  Not satisfied to leave it at that, Christians layered the day with religious overtones associated with Plymouth Rock pilgrims and their friendly Indian neighbors.  The story has a lot of holes in it, but it’s endured through decades of grade school art, pageants, and table top decorations.   Pilgrims aside, Thanksgiving is a day for recalling that, in the midst of turbulent times, we can pause and be grateful for the good things that have enriched our lives.  It’s the one holiday that can be observed by adherents of every religion, or of none.

Christmas is a special case.  The second most important Christian holy day, it marks our remembrance of the birth of Jesus, whom we declare to be Messiah.  It’s preceded in many traditions by a four week period of solemn reflection on the state of the world, and our role in it as agents of the Prince of Peace.  In the meantime, those same four weeks are filled with gatherings, large and small, for a little holiday cheer,  and outrageous consumer spending in childlike  anticipation of the day.  We know little about the actual date of Jesus’ birth, except that it was certainly not in late December.   The early Church established it on December 25 to replace a raucous Roman holiday celebrating the sun god.  It hoped to stamp out pagan excesses of wine and bad behavior, replacing it with virtuous worship.  It didn’t work.

Finally comes New Year’s Eve.  Everyone, so it is said, gets dressed up, goes to elegant parties where champagne flows, stays up ‘til midnight, and is romantically kissed by a loved one, or whoever is closest.  What a great time!  The next morning, having slept off a hangover, everyone hangs around eating and watching football.  At last, the boredom of January calls with seductive offers of relief from all the good times.  It’s time to get on with ordinary life.  It’s a struggle for liturgical Christians who still have six more of the twelve days of Christmas to celebrate.  It’s a rather subdued celebration.

What most of us know is that the holiday season seldom lives up to its reputation.  The season of being jolly  can easily be a season of stress and worry.  We might not be so easily taken in by all the hype if it wasn’t for Hallmark channel romantic movie reruns, a cascade of advertising enticing us to believe that we must have it all, and our own anxieties about others having a better time than we are.  We can’t avoid the pressure to spend and have a good time.  It’s everywhere we go, everywhere we look, on every t.v. channel and radio station.  It’s too much.  The reality is we’re not alone, many others are in the same boat.  Nearby are other boats filled with people suffering from the absence of loved ones, poverty, hunger, and numbing uncertainty about what the new year will bring.  For some, it can be the worst time of the year.  What are we to do?

Relax.  Ignore the hype if you can.  Enjoy what you are able to enjoy, and forget the rest.  I can’t speak for other religions, but for Christians it is time to explore a little more of what it can mean to be an agent of the Prince of Peace, leaving other convictions and allegiances behind.  Be kind to yourself.  Be kind to others.  It will bring great rewards. 

Jewish friends have some good advice for us all.  They celebrate a minor holy day during the holiday season, Chanukah.  It recalls that in the dark of destruction, surrounded by enemies, God did not let the light of God’s presence go out.  The ultimate victory will always belong to God.  We Christians recall that in the darkest of days, God came, out of love, to be among us in the most vulnerable way possible: as a baby born of a young, unmarried woman in a borrowed stable in the kingdom of an evil ruler.  Let yourself be vulnerable to the power of love, at least for a few days. Do it in whatever way is right for you.  Don’t worry about whether others are having a better time, or can afford more things.  Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t, maybe they can, maybe they can’t.  Does it matter?  Laugh with those who laugh.  Weep with those who weep.  Enjoy the season in little ways.  It will make a big difference.   And for heaven’s sake, don’t get all in a huff over whether it’s Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays.  




Monday, December 4, 2017

Doom, Gloom & Advent

Jesus said, “In those days, after that suffering the sun will be  darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.”
Thus begins the gospel lesson for the first Sunday in Advent.  What a downer for all the joyfulness with which the holiday season is infused.  Almost every year someone asks me why, when everyone else is getting into the holiday spirit, we  Episcopalians enter Advent with all this doom and gloom stuff about the end of the world?  
Maybe it’s not the end of the world about which Jesus spoke.  Maybe he wanted his listeners to hear something else.  Most adults I know have personal experience with moments in their lives when the sun refused to shine, the moon failed to light the night, the stars no longer glittered, and no heavenly power could penetrate the dark.  It isn’t only us, the psalms are filled with questions about God’s apparent absence in time of trouble.  It is in these moments, these troubling moments in which hope seems pointless, that Jesus comes to those who look for him, not only with words of consolation, but with his embracing presence.
Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

That’s the promise of Advent.  We don’t have to pretend that dark days won’t come.  They will.  It’s a delusion to believe that being Christian means nothing bad happens, or that God’s grace can’t seem distant, maybe gone for good.  The opening lessons of Advent are not about doom and gloom, or the end of the world.  They’re simply honest about life, our own lives, and give us the tools to infuse them with renewed hope in what we may not be able to see, yet certain that God’s own Spirit intercedes on our behalf through our sighs too deep for words (Rom.8)

Behind the Christmas scenes of mangers, shepherds and angels stands the cross, behind that the open grave, and above it all the one who comes in great power and glory to give life in abundance.  It’s the promise of light and life that darkness and death cannot defeat.  These first few days of Advent are meant to help us face the dark with courage and strength, empowered by God’s Spirit to walk upright with hope into a greater light that cannot be taken from us.  We will find it glowing in the manger.  Nothing could be more improbable, but that’s how God does things, improbably, against all expectations.

Advent comes every year in December on the church calendar.  In our daily lives, advent like times have no schedule, and always come when it’s most inconvenient.  These four weeks of quiet, contemplative meditation that lead to Christmas Eve can prepare us with the faith, hope, and love we will need for those moments.  



Thursday, November 30, 2017

Flag & Anthem – Standing & Singing

The controversy over football players kneeling during the national anthem continues to litter Facebook, and infect the coffee conversations of some of my acquaintances.  They take great umbrage with high dudgeon stirred in their coffee over the disrespect shown for the flag and the anthem.  They bring up the memory of those who have been wounded or died in battle as testimony, but to what?  Partly to the respect due the flag and anthem that honors those men and women.  Partly to the respect due the men and women whose blood gives meaning to the flag and anthem.  It’s a tautology, but a worthy one as far as it goes.  I don’t recall it was always that way.  Standing for the anthem and saluting the flag as it passed by was simply what we did, without giving it much thought.  For my generation it wasn’t patriotism as  much as custom and good manners.  For my dad, the WWII generation, the flag and anthem meant more.  They brought back memories, not all of them desired, but they also renewed their pride in what they had accomplished on behalf of the nation and for the world.  

I remember the first time I heard the Marine Corps Band play “Stars and Stripes Forever” as a giant flag was unfurled from the ceiling.  It was thrilling.  Never was there a moment to be more proud of being American.  But I also remember the idle conversation from the crowd as they wandered out.  Many expressed not simply patriotic pride, but ownership of it that others where not entitled to have.  What others?  In those days it was pushy civil rights advocates who threatened the established order of things, and didn’t know their place.  Not all blacks were bad of course, just the ones who didn’t know how to behave.  Even worse were their white allies, betrayers of all that was (white) American.  The same was said of people on welfare, reservation Indians, and hippies.  None of them had a right to ownership of patriotism.  Some others had partial rights, and you can let your favorite prejudice be your guide to who they were. 

The sense that there are rightful owners of patriotism, and that they get to decide who is and who isn’t a patriot, is deeply rooted in American society.  The owners know who they are.  Those who are excluded know they’re excluded.  While the barrier to ownership is permeable, its gatekeepers are predominantly white males who understand the role to be their right.  The current flag and anthem conflict is partly a move to hold onto that right.  It’s amplified by decades of military conflict justified in large part by jingoistic patriotism, for lack of anything more substantive.  Those who now choose to take umbrage over the flag and anthem claim that the patriotism they own, and only their brand of patriotism, has always inspired their standing and singing.  It’s heretical sacrilege to display patriotism in any other way for any other reason.

Failure to stand and sing (with hand over heart)  is a sign of disrespect for the flag and anthem.  It’s a real gut level reaction so high in emotional content that rational discussion is all but impossible.  Somehow the flag and anthem have become idols demanding the correct ritualistic acts of worship, or face dire consequences.  Taking a cue from Jesus, I asked one friend which was more important, the flag and anthem, or the principles and values they represent?  Maybe I should have stopped there, but I went on to ask what it means when people demand respect for the flag and anthem, but show disrespect for the rights of all to have full access to the freedoms and privileges they represent?  It was not well received. 

If honoring the flag is important, trivializing it doesn’t seem to bother anyone, not even ardent football stadium patriots.  Tasteless clothing adorned with flag symbols are everywhere, some of it risqué beyond the most lenient standards of decency.  Cars and trucks are painted in grotesque representations of the flag.  Yesterday I saw a decrepit van, more ready for the junk yard than the street, painted as a mobile flag.  Was that disrespectful?  The flag is carried, hoisted, and worn in demonstrations led by neo-Nazis, KKK, and other un-American fascist and white supremacist groups.  Few object.  Just for fun, flag beach towels, blankets and shawls are popular items.  Not many care.  

One of the most disrespectful things that can happen to something or someone held in high esteem is for it to be trivialized.  The U.S. Flag Code, adopted in 1923,  sets standards for how the flag is to be displayed.  Trivializing it is not included.  Most of us are vaguely aware of it, and haphazard in our adherence.   

If kneeling causes outrage, but trivialization is ignored, what’s going on?  If issues of racism aren’t a part of your answer, you haven’t thought it through. 


As for me, I will honor what the flag represents, but I will not worship it.  God, and only God, is worthy worship.  The flag has no value beyond the highest national ideals it’s supposed to represent.  I will stand when it passes because it’s our custom to do so, not out of patriotic fervor.  I will show respectful gratitude for those who have honorably served our nation, whether the cause was justified or not.  I will tepidly sing the anthem because it’s not that singable.  If I had my druthers, we would adopt a new anthem based in part on others that express more of the beauty and hope of the nation:  My Country ’Tis of Thee, O Beautiful for Spacious Skies, God Bless America,  Columbia the Gem of the Ocean, etc.


Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Hallmark, Christmas Magic, and Advent

Now and then I’ve taken a shot at Hallmark Channel holiday offerings.  Smothered in saccharine and populated with beautiful people, the plots feature vaguely familiar life problems solved in less than two hours through holiday magic as two people fall in love discovering the true meaning of Christmas and live happily ever after.  Scenes are filled with singing children, festive village squares or city streets, and the occasional magical angel or secret Santa.  

It doesn’t keep me from watching at least a part of one or two each year.  Adult feel good fairy tales are like Christmas candy.  A little tastes OK.

Advent approaches Christmas in a different way.  It’s honest about the darkness and danger that sometimes infects our lives in truly threatening ways.  There is nothing sweet about it.  The world of Advent is populated by real people doing the best they can in real lives.  The worst that can happen is not only near, it sometimes comes crashing down.  It is in the midst of gritty reality that God’s faithful promise is made visible as the true source of hope, restoration and renewal.  There’s no magic.  It’s real.  It delivers. 

A friend wondered if Hallmark shows are responsible for some of the stress, sadness, and disappointment many feel during their holiday seasons of Blue Christmases.  Subsumed under masterfully produced illusions of what Christmas is supposed to deliver, they are enticed to yearn for what they are told others already have.  But they aren’t the beautiful people.  Their village squares and city streets don’t live up to the Disneyesque scenes shown on t.v.  There is no magic angel or secret Santa.  Romance is a distant improbability.  Added to the mess is the pressure to buy, buy, buy what they cannot afford but are told they must want, must have.  Not a single problem is solved by more debt.  Is there a better answer; a more reliable hope?  There is.  It’s Advent.

Advent calls for a time of quiet, of waiting, of living into God’s gift of new life made present to us through a young woman seeking a place to give birth: a stranger in a strange town.  It’s a strange gift.  The baby Jesus needed ordinary people to love and care for him so that he might grow into the one who would love and care for us through death into  life eternal.  God dared to become vulnerable, trusting the baby Jesus to human care.  Each year we are reminded that he needs us still to love and care for those who today are most vulnerable, most in need.  Sometimes the most vulnerable, most in need, is you or me.  Advent calls us to be kind to ourselves, to care for the Christ that is in us.  In caring for ourselves we become prepared to care for the Christ that is in others, and that is how Christmas comes again in all it’s glory.  


Have some Hallmark Christmas candy if you want, but not too much.  There’s no nutrition in it.  It’s all saccharine.  Let Advent feed you with the true food of God’s love.  It is the gift of life that the darkness cannot defeat.