I have some of the tell tale behaviors of late middle, or yea verily even old age. Fortunately, while I'm old enough to have some of these bad habits, I'm young enough such that after I've had them pointed out to me enough times, I can eventually remember to cease the offending behavior. In regard to this latter, I've stopped re-telling some of my favorite stories. Everyone seemed to like them the first five or fifty times, but now I'm getting that they're kind of old. There's nothing like a look of pure tedious bored indulgence to clear up perspective in this area. As a result, I've gone off looking for and even making some new stories.
One of the bad habits of old age is holding forth on how terrible everything is now versus how wonderful things were when "we" ("we" as in us ancient ones) were young. I can't think of anything more apt to suck light, hope and life out of a room or a person than a pronouncement of universal doom from a throne of gray haired experience. Maybe if our joints didn't hurt so much and if it wouldn't likely throw out our back, we could manage to kick the youngin' in the head while we're at it.
At the same time, a half century or more or less of life will tend to develop perspective in anybody paying the least bit of attention. Probably, the crucial thing that experience can teach the aged one in this context is to choose when, what and particularly how much to reveal about the days of yore. The bottom line in my opinion is that it should offer some help, hope or direction to the listener. In the current media driven culture, they've already heard enough news, sermons, warnings and pronouncements to last several life times. After all, we didn't give them a choice as to when they'd be born.
Never the less, the perspective of elapsed time can be helpful. I was raised by, in and around what Tom Brokaw has called The Greatest Generation. One of the things that was culturally quite common as I was growing up was the importance of commitment. There were many failures in this area, probably not a good many less than now. Even so, the cultural norm was to embrace the idea that when you said yes it meant yes. When you said no, it meant no.
I have a good number of relatives who said yes when their country asked them to defend their homes and even perhaps more importantly, the God given ideal of individual worth and sanctity. They did not run away or shirk even when they were propelled forward in the direction of near certain death by horrible planning and decisions. 416,800 paid with their lives for gulping, embracing horrendous necessity and saying yes.
These and all those who fought, similarly said no to the elimination of the hope of personal freedom and individual value. For this, we owe them our lives.
This passed on somewhat to my generation. To our unqualified credit, we spoke an unequivocal no to the idea that one person was more or less valuable than another, based on skin color. Many other battles, with perhaps less clear manifestations were also waged. In those grayer wars, the direction could be debated but the commitment of the warriors was clear and preeminent.
Maybe it's just me, but I find the past clarity of yes and no to have passed from public discourse. Yes' and no's are nearly always conditional and of limited duration. Life time commitments are sometimes wrapped in prenuptials. Commitments made to employees are made to help them feel better; not because we mean them. Parents abandon children.
Even so I think we can, in chosen moments, offer our children and grand children this: Let your yes be yes and your no be no. Choose each carefully; count it's cost. Accept the risk and pain these declarations bring along with any potential or real reward. Equivocate, delay or decline but do not commit to something and then retreat from commitment. Help them to learn what so many have suffered and died to leave to us: Our commitments really do have value and meaning.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Tail Lights
When I was in college and still living in L.A. I had a fairly large circle of friends. Because it was large, there was a bit of a ranking. The easiest way to describe it would be as having friends-at-a-distance (you know them just well enough to know they're going to be a lot of work if you get closer), good friends (usually easy to get along with) and best friends (no explanation necessary but this bit makes the sentence symmetrical).
At some evening social gathering or the other, a good part of the entire circle decided to go someplace else that was a ways distant. I didn't know where it was so I said I'd follow one of the "friends-at-a-distance." He drove like a bat out of hell all the time but I do believe his annoying quotient was in full dominance that night. He believed it would be funny to drive 90, weave through traffic and leave me behind.
I remember this: I tried to followed his tail lights as he dodged in and out of traffic for quite awhile. I could not keep up and eventually his tail lights merged in the distance into everything else. He had lost me and I could no longer follow.
I follow Christ. There are a couple major contrasts with following Christ as compared to the debacle described above.
First, Christ wants you to be able to keep up, to the point that he'll go back and get you in many cases and at the very least wait for you. In this latter case, he will continue to wait even if you get off someplace well short of the intended destination.
Second, Christ is a very patient driver. He wants you to arrive at the destination. He even wants you to enjoy the journey...even in heavy traffic.
Interesting thing is I could follow my "friend's" car (note the ironic use of quotes) because I knew what it looked like. Christ's car is a good deal more pronounced than all the others. It's pretty cool. It's defined by our understanding of him gained by relationship and grace and by what we know of him from the bible. It's easy to follow if you keep your eyes open and are willing to deal with the traffic.
It's a broken world and accidents will happen. In those cases, Christ stops and renders assistance. The assistance is so profound that if we accept the help he offers we'll soon be thanking him for our terrible accident, even when it's limiting, debilitating, painful or all of the above.
Of course, we can wave him off and choose to deal with it ourselves. Even though I'm very much a DIY kind of guy, this is an area where I try to let him do the heavy lifting. He's just a whole lot better at it than I am.
I want to close by discussing the tail lights a bit. That is, to hammer the final nails in the metaphor's coffin.
If we don't know who and what we're following, if we can't recognize the tail lights when they sit immediately in front of us, we'll have trouble following. People do this and then organize themselves into communities of the intentionally blind, at least partly because they're at core not sure that they'll like the destination or who they are when they get there. Following and traveling changes not only our location. It also changes who we are.
We will all end up very different then what we are. Following Christ means abandoning the old gathering and location and going someplace different. There's really no room in the car for the things that held us at the old party. For some it is a big, profound and even integral part of their being that gets left behind. Leaving can be hard...even very hard...and even very sad. And even if you leave the party with some baggage you will be required to submit it for inspection and possibly rejection later. You though, will always be allowed and even begged to pass.
But the road beckons both with it's own promise and with the vision of the destination. As the journey begins the romance of change takes us over. If we pursue the tail lights we will arrive. If we don't, it's going to be a long drive.
At some evening social gathering or the other, a good part of the entire circle decided to go someplace else that was a ways distant. I didn't know where it was so I said I'd follow one of the "friends-at-a-distance." He drove like a bat out of hell all the time but I do believe his annoying quotient was in full dominance that night. He believed it would be funny to drive 90, weave through traffic and leave me behind.
I remember this: I tried to followed his tail lights as he dodged in and out of traffic for quite awhile. I could not keep up and eventually his tail lights merged in the distance into everything else. He had lost me and I could no longer follow.
I follow Christ. There are a couple major contrasts with following Christ as compared to the debacle described above.
First, Christ wants you to be able to keep up, to the point that he'll go back and get you in many cases and at the very least wait for you. In this latter case, he will continue to wait even if you get off someplace well short of the intended destination.
Second, Christ is a very patient driver. He wants you to arrive at the destination. He even wants you to enjoy the journey...even in heavy traffic.
Interesting thing is I could follow my "friend's" car (note the ironic use of quotes) because I knew what it looked like. Christ's car is a good deal more pronounced than all the others. It's pretty cool. It's defined by our understanding of him gained by relationship and grace and by what we know of him from the bible. It's easy to follow if you keep your eyes open and are willing to deal with the traffic.
It's a broken world and accidents will happen. In those cases, Christ stops and renders assistance. The assistance is so profound that if we accept the help he offers we'll soon be thanking him for our terrible accident, even when it's limiting, debilitating, painful or all of the above.
Of course, we can wave him off and choose to deal with it ourselves. Even though I'm very much a DIY kind of guy, this is an area where I try to let him do the heavy lifting. He's just a whole lot better at it than I am.
I want to close by discussing the tail lights a bit. That is, to hammer the final nails in the metaphor's coffin.
If we don't know who and what we're following, if we can't recognize the tail lights when they sit immediately in front of us, we'll have trouble following. People do this and then organize themselves into communities of the intentionally blind, at least partly because they're at core not sure that they'll like the destination or who they are when they get there. Following and traveling changes not only our location. It also changes who we are.
We will all end up very different then what we are. Following Christ means abandoning the old gathering and location and going someplace different. There's really no room in the car for the things that held us at the old party. For some it is a big, profound and even integral part of their being that gets left behind. Leaving can be hard...even very hard...and even very sad. And even if you leave the party with some baggage you will be required to submit it for inspection and possibly rejection later. You though, will always be allowed and even begged to pass.
But the road beckons both with it's own promise and with the vision of the destination. As the journey begins the romance of change takes us over. If we pursue the tail lights we will arrive. If we don't, it's going to be a long drive.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Pride Goeth Before Way Too Much
Pride has become a ridiculous word that labors along exhausted by over use. In fact its so over and misused that it's nearly impossible to tell whether it's a good thing or a bad thing.
We want people to take pride in their work but don't want to see pride if it's taken inappropriately. The modern example of the latter case is personified in the Al Gore-invents-the-internet fiasco. Remember how he invented the internet? No? Me neither.
I think pride is vaguely similar to a firearm. It serves to amplify whatever else is happening. Consider a hunting trip, target practice or defense of self or others in a life threatening situation versus a convenience store robbery. In one case the gun his helpful in the extreme. In the other, its a horror.
If a politician says he "takes pride" in his accomplishments, usually we will see that as good if we agree with him and as silly, ridiculous or even possibly offensive if we disagree. The experience of such a reaction (either good or bad depending on context) itself becomes a new event. It's true that its' a new event dependent on a previous event. I'm not aware of anyone ever taking pride for nothing. However, it's still a new event. And here's the thing, new events represent an invitation for good or bad and will as a result deliver their own consequence. As an example, the laughing at Al Gore's internet debacle was a consequence of him "taking pride," albeit inappropriately.
I think this leads necessarily to the idea that pride is either good or bad based on what it's being attributed to.
As with so much else, the ancient Greeks had excellent and far less confusing language in this area. There's a specific Greek word for bad pride. The word is hubris (usually pronounced hoo-briss). This word had a few very necessary and immediate associations for the ancient mind. Certainly one of the preeminent of these was this: Detached from reality. Someone imagining themselves to be greater and more than they actually were was probably the highest expression of this low crime. (Remember Al Gore?)
In ancient Greece, people suffered and even died from embracing hubris. Occasionally, they were killed for it. (I wonder if Al Gore's ever been to Greece?) Many more, suffered and died from it.
The thing that I find interesting and very sad, is that people are suffering and dying every bit as much or more now than they did 2000 years ago, as a result of choosing hubris. Now though, all we have is a context specific formulation in the form of the word "pride" that we have to vector to the vicinity of what we're talking about in order to correctly apply it. We can no longer be clear about the idea without a lot of preparation and discussion disentangling the different uses of pride. Society at large and our tastes and convenience usually prevent a clear understanding of the form and degree of the word "pride."
As awkward as this is to near the point of tragic in terms of being aware of hubris in ourselves and others, it might even be worse for what it carries along with it. Namely, the idea that pride itself is suspicious and even maybe intrinsically bad. In this formulation, we cannot take pride in ourselves without feeling trepidation.
I like to sum things when I write and particularly when I write here. I'm not going to do that today. I will only say that I think there are many many areas of morality, value and truth that cannot be plumbed properly until we start to remove or allow ourselves to be removed from hubris. At the same time we must begin to without qualification, embrace all in which we may be realistically, justly and accurately proud.
We want people to take pride in their work but don't want to see pride if it's taken inappropriately. The modern example of the latter case is personified in the Al Gore-invents-the-internet fiasco. Remember how he invented the internet? No? Me neither.
I think pride is vaguely similar to a firearm. It serves to amplify whatever else is happening. Consider a hunting trip, target practice or defense of self or others in a life threatening situation versus a convenience store robbery. In one case the gun his helpful in the extreme. In the other, its a horror.
If a politician says he "takes pride" in his accomplishments, usually we will see that as good if we agree with him and as silly, ridiculous or even possibly offensive if we disagree. The experience of such a reaction (either good or bad depending on context) itself becomes a new event. It's true that its' a new event dependent on a previous event. I'm not aware of anyone ever taking pride for nothing. However, it's still a new event. And here's the thing, new events represent an invitation for good or bad and will as a result deliver their own consequence. As an example, the laughing at Al Gore's internet debacle was a consequence of him "taking pride," albeit inappropriately.
I think this leads necessarily to the idea that pride is either good or bad based on what it's being attributed to.
As with so much else, the ancient Greeks had excellent and far less confusing language in this area. There's a specific Greek word for bad pride. The word is hubris (usually pronounced hoo-briss). This word had a few very necessary and immediate associations for the ancient mind. Certainly one of the preeminent of these was this: Detached from reality. Someone imagining themselves to be greater and more than they actually were was probably the highest expression of this low crime. (Remember Al Gore?)
In ancient Greece, people suffered and even died from embracing hubris. Occasionally, they were killed for it. (I wonder if Al Gore's ever been to Greece?) Many more, suffered and died from it.
The thing that I find interesting and very sad, is that people are suffering and dying every bit as much or more now than they did 2000 years ago, as a result of choosing hubris. Now though, all we have is a context specific formulation in the form of the word "pride" that we have to vector to the vicinity of what we're talking about in order to correctly apply it. We can no longer be clear about the idea without a lot of preparation and discussion disentangling the different uses of pride. Society at large and our tastes and convenience usually prevent a clear understanding of the form and degree of the word "pride."
As awkward as this is to near the point of tragic in terms of being aware of hubris in ourselves and others, it might even be worse for what it carries along with it. Namely, the idea that pride itself is suspicious and even maybe intrinsically bad. In this formulation, we cannot take pride in ourselves without feeling trepidation.
I like to sum things when I write and particularly when I write here. I'm not going to do that today. I will only say that I think there are many many areas of morality, value and truth that cannot be plumbed properly until we start to remove or allow ourselves to be removed from hubris. At the same time we must begin to without qualification, embrace all in which we may be realistically, justly and accurately proud.
Friday, June 10, 2011
The Flash of Forever and the Eternity of Now
It's bad when your kids start asking you things that are hard to answer. It means you'll actually have to work to continue to sound intelligent. In turn, that brings the possibility they'll discover you're not actually omniscient.
Over time, their questions just get harder. Even so, I have to admit that I do like questions, even when they implicitly deliver my own vulnerability. Honestly though, I do occasionally take time to get used to the vulnerability part. Some questions can be a real splash of cold water.
Ultimately though, questions are usually a lot more fun than answers. Answers deliver stasis. Questions deliver possibility. Answers look backward. Questions look forward. In the end, the real value of any answer is that it leads to new and hopefully better questions. The questions don't always get better but thankfully, they often do.
In this vein, I don't think anything can be worse than questions about quantum physics and/or astrophysics. These questions are easy when kids are younger. Whether you're talking about stars, planets and moons or protons and electrons, nearly all such questions can be answered by spherical models of foam and hung on circles of wire. These are usually a bit off as pertains to heavenly bodies. With regard to atomic and sub-atomic structures these are bolder lies than the idea that Santa Claus has a workshop at the North Pole surrounded by condominiums stuffed full of odd looking elves. Never the less, the models are helpful to young minds just like Santa Claus can be a healthy component of Christmas fun.
The question from one of our adult kids the other day was to the effect of, "Is there really any such thing as time?" As a response, I initially tried something that is true to a large degree and sounds kind of profound. It's a quote repeated by many that originated with a science fiction writer in the early '20's. Here it is: "Time… is what keeps everything from happening at once" For those of you with kids, I'll admit that this answer is static, cheap and in the context it was asked, dead on arrival. As in much of life, anything approaching a real answer is much more expensive.
This is a huge, long lived question with physical, philosophical and theological implications. Only as an introduction (i.e. as opposed to a cheap answer), consider that what we typically call time in day to day experience doesn't have a lot of meaning to the universe at large. The clock we watch is primarily an artifact of our lifespans and consciousness interacting with our solar system. (If you're interested in starting a journey to the more complete, expensive answer to this question, which really only contains better questions, you can start here: Time)
I think spiritually, we could use a little more grounding in the capacities and limits of time. It's true that we do have to pay some umbrage to the clock on the wall just so we can all have agreement on the when part of "when and where." And so that at any given moment, I can know how late I am to everything. It's also true that it often becomes the tyrant of our daily lives when it's rightful place is nothing more than a temporal equivalent to "X marks the spot."
This is particularly true as applies to big concepts like grace and forgiveness. On the cross, Christ tells the thief, "Today, you will me with me in paradise." Subtext: "In the next few moments, after a life (i.e. long time) of crime and abuse your instantaneous change of heart and my grace and sacrifice will place you in the arms of eternal love and grace." In this context, the elapsed time meant nothing. The human heart meant everything. In fact, the past tense "meant" is only a nod to our two handed, non-digital friend hanging on the wall. Both Christ and the thief are still living in the glory, love and importance of that single moment...as well as all the other moments defining the lives of each and their impact on others. And likewise the rest of us.
Forever is what we are made for. It is the uninterrupted now.
PS. blogger.com has added a formatting option that allows automatic reformatting necessary to support mobile devices...like your iWhatever. I've enabled that feature for Wanderin'. Now you can wander while you Wander.
Over time, their questions just get harder. Even so, I have to admit that I do like questions, even when they implicitly deliver my own vulnerability. Honestly though, I do occasionally take time to get used to the vulnerability part. Some questions can be a real splash of cold water.
Ultimately though, questions are usually a lot more fun than answers. Answers deliver stasis. Questions deliver possibility. Answers look backward. Questions look forward. In the end, the real value of any answer is that it leads to new and hopefully better questions. The questions don't always get better but thankfully, they often do.
In this vein, I don't think anything can be worse than questions about quantum physics and/or astrophysics. These questions are easy when kids are younger. Whether you're talking about stars, planets and moons or protons and electrons, nearly all such questions can be answered by spherical models of foam and hung on circles of wire. These are usually a bit off as pertains to heavenly bodies. With regard to atomic and sub-atomic structures these are bolder lies than the idea that Santa Claus has a workshop at the North Pole surrounded by condominiums stuffed full of odd looking elves. Never the less, the models are helpful to young minds just like Santa Claus can be a healthy component of Christmas fun.
The question from one of our adult kids the other day was to the effect of, "Is there really any such thing as time?" As a response, I initially tried something that is true to a large degree and sounds kind of profound. It's a quote repeated by many that originated with a science fiction writer in the early '20's. Here it is: "Time… is what keeps everything from happening at once" For those of you with kids, I'll admit that this answer is static, cheap and in the context it was asked, dead on arrival. As in much of life, anything approaching a real answer is much more expensive.
This is a huge, long lived question with physical, philosophical and theological implications. Only as an introduction (i.e. as opposed to a cheap answer), consider that what we typically call time in day to day experience doesn't have a lot of meaning to the universe at large. The clock we watch is primarily an artifact of our lifespans and consciousness interacting with our solar system. (If you're interested in starting a journey to the more complete, expensive answer to this question, which really only contains better questions, you can start here: Time)
I think spiritually, we could use a little more grounding in the capacities and limits of time. It's true that we do have to pay some umbrage to the clock on the wall just so we can all have agreement on the when part of "when and where." And so that at any given moment, I can know how late I am to everything. It's also true that it often becomes the tyrant of our daily lives when it's rightful place is nothing more than a temporal equivalent to "X marks the spot."
This is particularly true as applies to big concepts like grace and forgiveness. On the cross, Christ tells the thief, "Today, you will me with me in paradise." Subtext: "In the next few moments, after a life (i.e. long time) of crime and abuse your instantaneous change of heart and my grace and sacrifice will place you in the arms of eternal love and grace." In this context, the elapsed time meant nothing. The human heart meant everything. In fact, the past tense "meant" is only a nod to our two handed, non-digital friend hanging on the wall. Both Christ and the thief are still living in the glory, love and importance of that single moment...as well as all the other moments defining the lives of each and their impact on others. And likewise the rest of us.
Forever is what we are made for. It is the uninterrupted now.
PS. blogger.com has added a formatting option that allows automatic reformatting necessary to support mobile devices...like your iWhatever. I've enabled that feature for Wanderin'. Now you can wander while you Wander.
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