Sunday, December 28, 2008

The Holidays

I’ve sat down to write several times these last couple of days, but it just hasn’t come out. I’ve wanted to write about the holidays and of the events of the days and my feelings about them, but it just hasn’t been able to come out. I’ve puzzled over why I’m not able to put into words what is inside, since I’ve not had this problem to a great extent before now.
We attended evening church today. Normally, we have small group, but that isn’t meeting over the holidays, so we went to the evening services. It’s a small gathering, and there weren’t over about 25 people there. We sang, prayed, and heard a lesson from Nehemiah about worship. These services hark back to the older style of worship, as we sing from older song books, sing the old songs, and have a more traditional service than we usually have on Sunday morning.
I don’t know why, but as I sat there this evening listening to Jerry talk about Nehemiah and worship, I decided that the reason why I was having so much trouble writing (yes, I was listening to the sermon, too) about the holidays was that I always started writing about the wrong thing.
I’d start writing about what we did, what we ate, or where we went, but that always fell flat after just a sentence or two. What I need to write about is the reason we had such a good time this holiday season…family.
It was family that made the holidays what they were (and are). What we did, where we went, and what we ate are a small part of that, but it’s who we were with that really made it something special. Without family, our holidays are nothing more than just another day to scratch off on the calendar in a seeming endless parade of days and nights.
I’ve been there and done that. Long years ago, I had a job that required me to work some holidays. Some years I actually volunteered to work those days just so I wouldn’t have to face the holiday alone. It was just another day for me…just like any other. It was that way not because I had to work, but because there was no family around and no way to be with family.
Our Kansas family has 18 to 20 members, depending on who is counted and who is not. If everyone (including adopted sons, girl friends and boy friends, other hangers-on, etc.) is counted, I think there are 20. Each one is special. Each one is valued. Each one is unique. Each one is loved. And each one helped make the holidays special for the others.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Peace and Quiet

I am taken by the change in the environment of this house today compared with yesterday. Oh, I know that when 17 or 18 people invade a home that one can't expect anything approaching peace and quiet. And it wasn't at all peaceful and quiet yesterday. We had a good time being together.
Today, however, it's just me. Late this morning, I was puttering around the house. No TV, no radio, nothing but just me. The house seemed so...well, empty.
That's a good thing, I think. To feel an emptiness when loved ones are not around is a good thing. Peace and quiet is fine at times, but we long for companionship, company, and being with others. I'm glad to have the quiet time, but I'm even more pleased that I enjoy the company of my family and friends.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Today

Today is Christmas Day. It was declared to be a Federal holiday in 1870 by President Grant. However, it has been celebrated for hundreds of years prior, and has its true origins in rather murky areas of history. The story of the Christmas holiday and of Christmas day is cloaked in legend, story-telling, fact, history, and the inevitable twisting of that fact and history to meet some end.
No matter. The day is what we make of it in the here and now. Never mind whether or not our nation was founded on Christian principles. No matter whether or not the holiday was originally a festival day in some pagan sense. Not important is whether or not the Catholics (or Lutherans or Orthodox or whoever) thought the day was to be observed.
What is important is the here and now, and what we make of the day today...this year. You may choose to not celebrate the day. You may or may not be a believer or follower of Jesus and come to this conclusion. That's OK. You may have no connection with Jesus or any religion, yet you may wish to celebrate the day in all the secular fullness that can be had. That's OK, too.
That's all OK with me because, you see, what I am concerned with is how I celebrate the day (or not). It pleases me when others think as I do and celebrate it as I do, but why should I get bent out of shape if someone decides that the birth of Jesus should not be celebrated in this way? Why should I be concerned if someone should decide to make this a purely secular day for themselves?
The answer is, I shouldn't. My concern, rather, should be as it should be each day of the year. Am I living my life so that others know that I am a follower of Jesus? Am I living in such a way that Jesus is made known to others and I can be someone who can tell others who wish to know the good news of God Incarnate?
We who are Christians tend to get bogged down in the relatively inconsequential and forget what our responsibility is to those who do not know the story of God and how immensely He loves humanity. Of course, it's easier to rail against the secularization of Christmas for a month or so at the end of the year than it is to display the love of Jesus every day of the year.
Yes, Christmas is what we make it, here and now and in every here and now to come. The story of God as a baby born without human father in a barn in a nondescript rural area of a small country in the Middle East is at once remarkable, unbelievable, faith-building, challenging, and breath-taking. Take the time this year to read or hear it again, or perhaps hear it for the first time. Let it enter into your consciousness and exercise your simple faith.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Boring??

Some gems from scientific discoveries of 2008, courtesy of Discover magazine.
People have the ability to recognize themselves in mirrors. So do great apes, bottlenose dolphins, and Asian elephants. However, until this year, no non-mammals have passed the recognition test. The European magpie now is on the list of animals that can recognize themselves in the mirror and react appropriately to that recognition.
A small tribe of hunter-gatherers in the Amazon rain forest were discovered to have no words in their vocabulary to express numerical concepts as "one", "two", or "many". These people evidently don't count and don't have words for numbers.
Swiss scientists sent a pair of photons along fiber-optic cables, in opposite directions from each other. When they measured one photon upon its arrival at its destination, the other photon changed instantaneously, even though it was 11 miles away. This linkage of matter is called quantum entanglement, and is a baffling reality of the quantum world.
A team of European scientists has built the worlds' smallest transistor. It contained about 10 atoms and was one atom in thickness. It's made of a material called graphene, a carbon nanomaterial only one atom thick.
Dutch researchers have found compounds in human saliva that hasten healing. Thise simple proteins are called histatins. They are well-known compounds, but just this year they have been found to cause cells from the skin's surface to close over a wound.
Physicists have created a motion picture of a single atom. They used a laser light that flashed for one attosecond (one quintillionth of a second) to capture the image. By the way, an electron orbits a hydrogen atom in about 150 attoseconds.
A ckBot is an aggregation of 15 blocks, which make up a robot. It is a machine that can propel itself. But it can also do something else. If the robot is kicked and the blocks are knocked apart and scattered over the floor, they flip over and about, wriggle toward each other, and latch themselves back together and reassemble themselves. See video at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JG5GrAtalE
These are just a few of the marvelous, the weird, and the surprising things that scientists and others have found, found out about, or created this year. And you thought it was a rather boring 12 months!

Sunday, December 21, 2008

We Won't Like It

In my earlier blog, I talked of my belief that God will hold us as a nation accountable for how we treat the down and out, the widow and child. Don't, however, think for a moment that I have abdicated individual responsibility in these areas and given all to the government. On the contrary, even though government can provide many services and beneficial programs for those who have need, it is the individual who truly must step up and be the front line, so to speak, in this area.
Whether that person helps someone in his family, volunteers at a school, donates time and effort to an after-school program, mentors a child, or provides a family's basic needs, it is the individual working both alone and collectively with others that will truly make the difference.
Yes. I believe with all my heart that someone, somewhere in government will have to answer to God Almighty for how they have treated the widows of veterans. I believe with all my being that someone, somewhere in government will have to account for the lack of funds that resulted in the mentally ill to go out to the streets. However, I also believe that each one of us individually will be given the opportunity to account for our action or inaction when it comes to providing "a cup of cold water in (Jesus') name."
I think we will one day be utterly amazed (and dismayed) at the things God will hold us to account for in this life. We seem to think that He'll hold to account the axe murderers and the prostitutes (and I think He will do that if they aren't forgiven). But I also think He has things on his list that aren't even on our radar screens.
I know the idea of a little black book where God writes all of the bad things we do seems quaint and out of touch. But somewhere, somehow, the poor, the abused, the widow, the child, the orphan, and the mentally ill will have their day and have their say. And we'll be on the receiving end of it and we won't like it very much.
Neither will God.

Eyes and Ears

We hear much in our time about God being unhappy with America due to something we are or aren't doing. "God will judge us because we...." You fill in the rest. I've heard everything fill in that sentence from notions of political corruption and corporate greed to aborting babies and engaging in what people think are unjust wars. I've also heard that we will incur God's wrath if we don't support Israel, if we stay in the United Nations, and if Mr. Obama is elected President of this nation.
Now, I agree that some of those things should not be in the life of a people. (By the way, in my opinion, staying in the U.N. and electing Mr. Obama President are NOT in that list.) But I seldom hear anything about an issue that just continues to rear its head time and time again, and because of which I believe God may judge us indeed as harshly or more harshly than any of the above (with one possible exception).
God has always been especially interested in the powerless. He has always been the friend of the poor. He has evermore been on the side of the innocent, the child, the one unable to care for himself...the widow and orphan. He has also always been critical of those who would take advantage of someone who is in a powerless position in life...reserving the nastiest and harshest condemnations for people who would somehow run roughshod over the sick, the infirm, the children, and the powerless.
Look at the Beatitudes. Look at the rest of the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew. Look at the story of the rich man and Lazarus. Look at what Jesus says about letting the children come to Him. Look at how Jesus treated the widow, the sick, and the infirm. Look at what Jesus says to the Pharisees about how they treat others.
Look at the Law of Moses and how that law treats the poor, women, and the powerless. Even though that law might be somewhat primitive for some of us, in that day, it was light years ahead of any other culture in the treatment of the servant or other powerless person.
I don't care what spin one tries to put on these passages of Christian Scripture; the meaning is plain as day to me. God has taken a special interest in the powerless. And if there is any judgment to come in this nation, it will be, I think, because we shove the sick, the widow, and the orphan into the corners of our lives. We push the homeless into the cracks of our society. We shuffle our children into the abyss of irrelevance. We tell the poor to just go get a job. And many of us do it in the name of "compassionate conservatism."
"They should get a job."
"Why don't they take better care of themselves?"
"They'll just buy cigarettes and beer with that money."
"Their families should care for them."
Do you find any of those types of comments in the words of Jesus when he dealt with people of little means? "Blessed are the poor in spirit." "Blessed are the meek." "Let the little children come to me."
I shudder to think of what God thinks of our Veteran's Administration, for example, which was ordered by law in 1996 to provide a full month's veteran's benefit to a surviving widow, even if that veteran died on the first or second day of the month. As of this writing, that STILL has not happened. Widows continue to have their checking accounts accessed to retrieve that last month's payment, and continue to be hounded by the VA if they can't get the money out of the bank account. Only the outcry of a couple of Senators who are also veterans has prompted the VA to decide that it needs to reprogram its computers to comply with the law.
I am appalled at the waiting lists that people who are sick and infirm have to be on for an interminable amount of time in order to receive basic life services. For some reason, we seem to have all kinds of money to build great edifices and purchase grand furnishings for government offices, but can't provide home services (washing clothes, cleaning house, etc.) to a paraplegic.
I can hardly stand it when I hear that there is no treatment available for the mentally ill, the addict, or the dysfunctional family; yet we seem to have all the money in the world to fight a war, bail out Wall Street, and junket to the south sea islands.
I tremble to think that we are throwing away children both by abortion as well as through inadequate educational opportunities, by forcing them to live in crime-infested neighborhoods, in looking the other way as they are abused and used, and neglecting their cries for help by not providing a safe and helping environment. (I worked this one for a time...don't you dare tell me we're doing all we can...if you do, you don't have a clue.)
I am angry at our Social Security system which takes months on end to process a request for disability, asking for more and more information, delaying upon delay; finally denying the claim only to reverse on appeal. By the time it's all over, the need is beyond critical and many just drop out of the process before any help arrives.
I'm even outraged at the fact that in Sedgwick County it takes upwards of four months to receive a death certificate from the Coroner's office due to backlogs, lack of personnel, and stifling inefficiency. (You know well that until a death certificate is issued, the person is not legally dead and no benefits, life insurance, or other business affairs can be paid or consummated.) Families in crisis and mourning deserve better, and I think God notices things like that and how we handle those things.
Yes, we may be a great nation, at least in the eyes of some. But I think the true measure of greatness is how we treat those who cannot provide and care for themselves. And I think we are even now being judged accordingly. I don't like where I think this is going, and I think the Christian community bears much responsibility for this fiasco. We have not been and are not the eyes and ears of Jesus. If we were, the world would be a much different place.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Odds & Ends

I got hauled onto the carpet a few days ago for saying in a prior blog that we were "plodding through Habakkuk" at church. This may have been a bit over the top. Maybe I should have said, "Were taking Habakkuk at a careful, even pace in order to glean the most from this amazing little book."
Now, really, does that sound like me? Or am I more like someone who would say that we're "plodding through Habakkuk?" Your answer to that question may as well rest with you, as I think I know which one I am. (Actually, we were taking Habakkuk at a careful, even pace, which I appreciated greatly. Thank you, Scott.)
It's been cold here, and we're had a couple of snows and a little ice. The sun is out today, but the wind is chilly out of the north. the snow is gone, and we are left with the cold and damp. This is the time of the year to expect that kind of thing, I suppose, but I also wonder if it's a little more than we usually get this time of year.
Christmas is fast upon us. Just a few more days until most of us have the privilege of being with family and friends, eating turkey, ham, cranberry salad, pies, and all that goes with a traditional meal.
We who are Christians are reminded pretty much all this holiday season (from Thanksgiving on) that God has been good to us, loves us, and desires a genuine relationship with us. I wonder how frustrating it is sometimes for God to continue to make overtures of friendship and fellowship day after day, only to see the objects of those overtures turn away time and time again. I feel that I have sometimes done that with God, and I wonder why it is that He continues to make advances toward me in love and acceptance, even when I know that I have rejected Him so much and so often. I'm reminded of the words of the old gospel song that go, "And wonder how He could love me, a sinner, condemned, unclean."
Of course, I know the words that follow: "Oh how wonderful, how marvelous, And my song shall ever be; Oh how wonderful, how marvelous is my Savior's love for me!"

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Plodding Through Church (Not!)

I follow a blog written by a cousin of mine (actually, I think she’s a “first cousin once removed”). Joanna wrote several days ago about counting down to the weekends and dreading Sunday because it was the beginning of another week. I can relate somewhat to that, as I become noticeably more calm inwardly when Thursday afternoon comes, and Fridays are really a good day because I have a couple days to rest.

I have learned, however, to not dread Sundays or Sunday nights (which is now as I write this). On the contrary, I find Sundays to be the best of the days of the week, primarily due to the interaction and fellowship of my church family on that day. Of course, afternoon naps, Sunday dinner, and football are helpful in making Sunday a great day, but I’ll say with conviction and surety that it’s the relationships we have with church friends that makes the day.

Today I watched our sign language interpreter sign Silent Night as we sang. I watch them often, entranced by the beauty of that language and their interpretation of it. Today was no exception. I was moved to tears as I watched Scott interpret that song, and seemed to hang on each word and phrase, soaking in the meaning of God becoming a human being because of His love for me.

Rick had a great lesson and Eric did a masterful job as worship leader. The class was relevant and encouraging, and people were friendly and seemed genuinely happy to be there.

As I sit here and think about it, I think that’s one of the big things about Central. The people who come seem to be genuinely happy to be there. Church doesn’t seem to be a chore or something that they must plod through (even though we’ve spent the last seven or so weeks in Habakkuk chapter 1 in class…is that “plodding”?); it’s a joy and a privilege. Church politics and things that are not for the edification of all just aren’t allowed to be there. That kind of attitude rubs off on me, and I hope that my attitude is such that the good parts of it rub off on others.

Even though I’d much rather be retired and not have to go to work tomorrow, I’m ready for the week ahead. One huge reason for that is I have been renewed and revitalized by my association with others today who also both need revitalization and provide it.

Church is a blessing to me, and I hope it is for you as well. If it isn’t, maybe there’s something that’s not as it should be either in your life or in the life of your church family. In either case, it’s your business and it’s your responsibility.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

In The Feedbox

One of my favorite Looney Tunes cartoons from years ago is a Foghorn Leghorn cartoon that tells the story of when Foghorn woos Miss Prissy the hen in order to have a nice place to call home and keep warm in the winter. The plot goes something like this. (Credit Wikipedia for the synopsis. I changed it some to reflect my recall of the story.)

Foghorn reads a newspaper story in the Barnyard News predicting a cold winter. To avoid freezing in his shack, he decides to woo Miss Prissy ("I need your love to keep me warm."), who lives in a warm, cozy cottage across the way. Miss Prissy is flattered by Foghorn's brief courtship, but tells him that, in order to prove his worthiness as her mate, he needs to show that he can be a worthy father to her nerdy son.

The little boy - Egghead Jr., is dressed in a stocking cap and oversized glasses – and would rather read about "Splitting the Fourth Dimension" than engage in typical little boy games. Foghorn, intelligent rooster that he is, catches on to this and sets out to win Miss Prissy’s heart by showing Egghead Jr. how to play various sports games.

They try baseball and flying paper airplanes first. Then they play hide and seek. Foghorn hides in a feedbox. However, Egghead uses a slide rule (anyone younger than 40 won’t know what that is) and determines mathematically that Foghorn is buried in the ground. He uses a shovel to dig a hole, and pries Foghorn out of the hole with the shovel.

Foghorn is totally befuddled at this turn of events, knowing that he hid in the feedbox, not in a hole in the ground. He looks over at the feedbox, however, and decides to not look in it because, “I just might be in there.”

Although it’s a cartoon and is, at least in my mind very funny, on a more serious note, I’ve at times found myself in a situation, wondered how I got there, but decided to not pursue it any further because of what I might find out that I might not want to know. During those times (which have thankfully been few and far between), this cartoon sometimes came to mind as I struggled to make sense of it all, then decided that it wasn’t probably something I really wanted to do.

I’m also reminded, as I write this, of times in the Bible when someone determined to ask God for an answer, then later either regretted it or really didn’t want to know when God did tell him. Habakkuk comes to mind, asking God how long He’s going to be silent and allow all of the sin and corruption in Israel. God ends up telling Habakkuk something that Habakkuk just can’t swallow: God is preparing a nation that is the epitome of evil in the world for an invasion of Israel to provide the appropriate punishment. I wonder if Habakkuk thought to himself that he really shouldn’t have pressed God on the issue and would have been better off not knowing.

Job insisted on his innocence and demanded that God show Himself. When He did, and by the time God was done with Job, he said to God, “I repent in dust and ashes.” Job too may have wished that he never had called God onto the carpet.

You may be able to think of times in your own life when you hesitated to look in the feedbox, so to speak, because you “just might be in there.” There’s nothing wrong with looking in the feedbox. We humans naturally want to know the hows and whys of things and to understand life as much as we are able. And there’s nothing wrong with calling God on the carpet when you don’t understand things. God is big enough to handle your complaints, and as long as you do your complaining in faith and with respect, God will hear you.

Just be prepared for what you're going to find in that feedbox.

Friday, December 12, 2008

A Message

Every so often, I get a comment on one of the blogs. I enjoy the comments, even the ones (although there are few of them) that do not agree with me. Discussion on issues is a part of who we are. That’s why I do not have comment moderation enabled on this blog; however, I will remove a comment if it is patently offensive or otherwise inappropriate.

One of my recent commenters is a woman named Carrie Looney. I give her entire name because she did the same in one of the comments. I know who this woman is, but haven’t met her. I’m going to use the blog to send you a message, Carrie.

I’d love to correspond with you from time to time, but don’t have your email address. Use my blog email address aminnot-blogger@yahoo.com to send me your address, if you wish to do so. If you do, I’ll send you my private email address. If you’d rather not, that’s OK, too.

I know most of the others who comment. Kathy is a good friend from Western Kansas. WDK is a relative who lives not far away. Scotty is my son. Chris is a friend from Northeast Kansas. And so on.

Carrie is a special person, even though we’ve never met. She is a descendent of the woman who graciously volunteered to pay for my college education and provided just the right amount of love and support for us when things seemed to be at about their worst for us. Also named Carrie, she did things like this not only for me, but for countless others over the years of her life…people who the granddaughter Carrie will probably never meet. However, young Carrie seems to have an interest in knowing more about her grandmother’s efforts and in seeing some of the results of her grandmother’s work.

I’m not a young man any more. I have far more years behind me than I do ahead of me. Who and what I am today, however, is in large measure the doing of the woman who quietly stepped to my side that day almost thirty years ago and gave me hope. I’d like to think that I have been and am doing the same as I can and am able.

You may think that I devote far too much time to this part of my life and Carrie Lou’s role in it. If you think that, you don’t understand the immense importance of what God did for me through her. To say that I am here writing this, having an intact family and a decent job could, I think, only be said because of her effort on my behalf. I shudder to think of what may have happened had she not been there for me.

You too never know what effect you may have on the life of someone else. You don’t have to have a lot of money to have the most profound, life-changing effect on another. Kind words, a deed done well, a friendship, or just an understanding heart can literally give life and hope to someone who has that need. And you'll probably never, ever, ever know the full import what you did.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Dutchman

I was at the neighborhood hardware store this afternoon picking up some Christmas decorations at half price. I was in the checkout line bantering with the clerk (I go there often and know this clerk somewhat) about whether or not she would help me carry out what I had purchased. I don’t know exactly what I said, but must have butchered it some, because a man in the line behind me piped up and said, “Sounds like a Dutchman.” I smiled and told him that he was pretty close.

I’ve been accused by my wife of saying things in ways that tend to betray a part of my ancestry. It’s called Pennsylvania Dutch, I think, and beyond that I don’t know much. One or more of the readers of my blog who are related to me might be able to better talk about that ancestry and how it came to be known as Pennsylvania Dutch. I always thought it was more German than Dutch. But I’m not the expert.

One of the only lines I can recall that my mother used to say was, “It’s makin’ down wet,” when she wanted to say it was raining. I’m sorry to say that I can’t really think of any other phrases right now. I’ll probably be able to think of several after I publish this.

My Dad’s family was from the same ancestry as my Mother, and I’m sure they had several things they said similar to the “makin’ down wet” line. But Dad never carried most of them over, and we never really learned them from him. Other things, yes. And some of those “other things” are unmentionable here. He was a colorful man in some respects, to say the least.

What will we give to our descendants? What stays? What goes? What takes its place? It’s an ever-changing formula with an ever-different outcome. But that’s what, in part anyway, makes us the unique creatures we are.

Friday, December 05, 2008

Musings About a Job

I won’t go into detail, but will only say that the week at work was certainly one of the more trying weeks I’ve had recently. With that as a very brief background, I’d like to offer some snippets I’ve been thinking during this time.

I have a job. There are many that don’t. There are some standing in the unemployment lines. There are some standing in the food lines. I’m not doing that. I have a job.

The job I have is not of my doing; it is a gift from God. He has chosen to bless me in this way. I am so grateful and humbled by His decision.

Not everyone recognizes the blessings of having a job. Evidently, they believe the world owes them a job. I hope they learn the better of that before something bad happens.

I could have a job where I place a widget into a hole 450 times a day, go home, go back to work the next day, and do it all over again. Thankfully (and for my sanity’s sake), I don’t have a job like that.

I don’t like to leave things undone in my job. I have left some undone things over this weekend, and I don’t like that. I couldn’t help it, though. The time just ran out.

The whole of an organization is greater than the sum of its parts. The organization becomes an organism in and of itself. It’s both awesome and scary to be part of something like that.

I’ll do this for as long as it goes…as long as God chooses to bless me with this job. Then I’ll be off to the next adventure. Whether that comes next week, next year, at retirement, or at the end of my lifetime, I’ll need to be ready.

I get more tired at the end of the week than I used to get. It’s only 9:30 and I’m ready to hit the hay.