A little more reverence, please: we dare not deflate all our cherished institutions

For many years, children have sung the twisted holiday carol “Jingle bells, Santa smells, Robin laid an egg...” Kind of irreverent, a little twisted, but not all that far from the classic Spike Jones take on the holiday. “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth” and “I’m getting nothin’ for Christmas” have a kind of innocence, even if they don’t exactly toe the standard reverent Christmas carol line.

But somehow it feels like a line has been crossed as I heard some children singing “Deck the halls with poison ivy...” That was the beginning; in later lines the song descended into celebrations of decorations causing even more pain and suffering.

Every generation has its own versions of sophomoric comedy. Every society has jesters dancing out on the margins, deflating the solemn traditions of the elders. In previous generations, those impulses have been harmless comic release valves because there was a strong affirmation of the traditions that give shape and form to the culture. And the jesters had the positive value of helping our society avoid the pride that comes from taking itself too seriously.

But what becomes of a generation raised on the sophomoric deflation of the traditions? What if defending the tradition becomes the marginal activity, and deflating it becomes the main thing? Reverence and respect go together. A culture with a strong sense of reverence is a culture that can cultivate a strong sense of mutual respect.

Many people find the Three Stooges funny because they’re so off the wall and unusual. Imagine, though, a world where Curly, Larry, and Moe set the standards for how people should treat one another. Suddenly they’re not so funny. If irreverence displaces reverence, and everything is something of a joke played out for our entertainment, why should any of us take any respectful notice of anyone else?

And I suppose that’s why I find it so troubling to hear kids singing about decking the halls with poison ivy. A little irreverence is harmless. Things begin to fall apart when that cynical impulse begins to displace the traditional ennobling aspirations of the holiday.

Was it Chris Johnson (at the excellent blog Midwest Conservative Journal) who wrote about how nervous he was that the work of defending the core societal institutions was in the hands of a generation that knew more about how to tear down traditions than build them up? Whoever wrote that was onto something important. It will be a challenge to see the problem and rise to the occasion. But can our generation muster the strength to meet that challenge?

If we can, we will truly be heirs of the title “Greatest Generation.”

The pen is not always mightier: the search for a non-military solution in Afghanistan and Iraq

“The pen is mightier than the sword.” Look it up in a dictionary of cultural literacy or other phrase book, and you’ll find it called an aphorism or adage. It’s a quick, dramatic way of saying in the long run, ideas are what matter. In the long run, the people who write the histories decide who the “good guys” and the “bad guys” are.

You won’t find “the pen is mightier…” listed under practical strategies for self-defence. When accosted by a mugger, the pen is a feeble defence. Later on, you can use your pen to write scathing articles that will shape posterity’s view of the mugger. But in the moment of conflict, the pen is not much use against a knife or pistol.

“The pen is mightier…” is a proverbs of guidance that gives advice about the values we choose. It is not a literal statement of the way things work in the real world. Though these days some politicians seem to act as if it were.

“Bring the troops home” an increasing number of people and leaders say. “There is no military solution.” “We need to pursue negotiations, not confrontations.” Statements like that echo through the halls of government as leaders debate the situations in Iraq and Afghanistan. Somewhere out there is a treaty the parties could sign that would bring peace and stability.

Does anybody remember who the Taliban are? Does anybody remember what they did when they ruled Afghanistan? They executed people for teaching girls! What compromise is there with this kind of ideology?

Does anybody remember why Muqtada al-Sadr is an anti-US cleric? It’s not the lack of progressive social services in the west. It’s things like rock music and freely-available alcohol and the way women can go out in public uncovered. It’s the way we in the west don’t enforce a strict morality like the sharia code.

What potential compromise is there with forces like these? What is there to negotiate about? The Taliban will not change their beliefs on the role of women in society because western troops pull out of the country.

What could we accomplish by bringing the troops home? What kind of agreement waits at the end of the negotiations some say should replace confrontations? Well, there aren’t too many specifics about that. With a resigned shrug of the shoulders, people admit ignorance but hope it will be better than what’s gone before.

Using the pen to sign a treaty may make some in the west feel better, but it’s a weak protection indeed against those who choose to use their swords against their opponents. All the pen really accomplishes there is to put down some ink stains that dry upon some line. And, to borrow the phrases from the Jimmy Webb song, a truly determined person won’t be shackled by those kinds of forgotten words and bonds.

Sometimes we can resist evil with the power of words and ideas – the realm of the pen. But sometimes it takes more. Sometimes it takes the sword. And woe to us and those who count on us for protection if we use a pen when we need the sword.

On Same-Sex marriage: Changing values for one affects everyone

Why do evangelicals care about how society defines marriage? I often hear or read things like "Expanding the understanding of marriage to embrace homosexuals will have no effect on your marriage. It's just making the definition more inclusive." I beg to differ.

As one of my teachers put it, inclusiveness is simply the transitional form from one orthodoxy to another. It may sound cynical, but it does seem to reflect the reality of history. And it's logically inevitable. No one is simply "inclusive." Everyone is simultaneously "inclusive" and "exclusive." One can not include this without at the same time excluding all that is notthis.

An "inclusive" society can not embrace homosexuality as morally equivalent to heterosexuality without also excluding those who do not regard it as equivalent. Witness how many times people who do little more than quote or publish Bible verses are considered guilty of impermissible "hate speech" -- and how much harsher the treatment can be for those who enthusiastically advocate the historic church teaching.

The pro-Same-Sex marriage position is not simply a move to expand the definition of marriage. It is a move to completely change the root meaning of marriage. The traditional definition -- in quick summary form -- focuses on providing a stable environment for care and nurture, of children especially, but for families generally. The biological case is obvious.

The psychological case is subtle, but also clear. Children grow up best in an environment with strong, positive male and female role models acting in balance. For example, boys who do not grow up seeing a father work and sacrifice for the good of his family will tend to be self-focused themselves. That was the impulse behind Big Brothers and other mentoring projects: if a boy does not have a positive male role model in his own family, then the society should provide him one.

The pro-Same-Sex marriage definition changes the focus of marriage. It moves the focus from the care and nurture of children and families. Marriage becomes focused on defining, regularizing, and regulating the sexual conduct of adults. Children become a secondary issue. The main thing is the emotional and social fulfillment of the adults in question.

How far will this go? For example, if a lesbian couple wants to fulfill their desire to be parents, and especially if one deeply feels a need to be a mother, will they be entitled to costly fertility treatments so they can bear children? I've read reports of these kinds of claims being made on the public health care system. Having embraced their marriage life as a family just like any other, on what basis can society say no? But if we say yes, how do we pay for this care? The health care system is already strained to the breaking point: what further cuts will we make to free these funds?

I tend not to be a individualistic libertarian. When people say "these changes in values will have no effect on you and your values," I do not easily agree. We are all connected to one another by a subtle tapestry of relationships and influences, and should exercise great care before we pull too hard on one loose thread. As the saying goes, All humanity "is of one author, and is one volume; ... [T]he bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come..." No one is an island, separatate and unconnected; we are all part of the mainland, joined, united, connected to one another.

"In spite of that, keep going anyway": How Baseball is like life

"The game begins in the spring, when everything is new again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains comes, it stops, and leaves you to face the fall alone."

That's from the beginning of Bart Giamatti's famous essay "The Green Fields of the Mind" Baseball fans, he writes, "count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops."

Baseball is such an odd game. Unlike, say, basketball, where teams seem to score almost every time they have the ball, baseball players see much less success. A .300 hitter is considered excellent -- yet that means he fails seven out of ten times.

The central focus of the game is the individual contest between pitcher and batter. And yet that context means nothing apart from the support of the rest of the team. A batter may defy the odds and reach base. Yet, that achievement means nothing if the batter behind him hits into a double play. Several times this season, one of the kids on our mites (ages 6 to 9 years) softball team has complained "It's not fair. Why do I have to go back to the dugout? He hit the ball to the fielder!"

Many people have said it: "Learning to deal with failure is one of the keys to succeeding in baseball." This is the time of year when that becomes most real. In most other sports, the last weeks are about playoffs, either getting set up for a good start, or making the final push to qualify. Not baseball. There are just four slots for the playoffs, and come September 1, there aren't many teams with a realistic shot at those four places.

Looking over the standings today, I found myself calculating what my team would have to do to avoid having the worst record in baseball. Not what they would have to do to win the playoffs -- or even just make the playoffs. Baseball has no Cinderella teams who start the playoffs in the eighth seed but overachieve to make it to the seventh game of the finals.

In that way, baseball is a lot like life. It's about doing your best day in and day out. Not because it's going to get you a shot at the championship. Not because it's going to get you a shot at glory. Just because it's the right thing to do. Just because there are people around you pulling for you, counting on you to lift them up.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9
And as for you, brothers, never tire of doing what is right. 2 Thessalonians 3:13
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1

Most of us don't rise from obscurity to become successful heads of corporations or wealthy movie stars or powerful civic leaders. In spite of that, we just keep going anyway. We do our best day by day, just because it's the right thing to do.

An example of strength through faithfulness

Considering the continuing challenge and threat of Racist, antisemetic and other kindred groups, The blogger Laughing Pastor finds something to celebrate in the church's heritage:

I am proud to be part of a faith tradition that stood up and spoke out during the Nazi era. People like Dietrich Bonhoeffer who refused to remain silent. The banner depicted above is a symbol of the words spoken in Barmen. Reformed Christians rejected Hitler, and his Nazism. They died for not remaining silent.

The blog post carried a picture of the dramatic banner designed to celebrate the 1934 Theological Declaration of Barmen. That Declaration does stand as a courageous monument in Christian Theology. We would do well to follow their example... once we figure out what that example is.

They were concerned with Hitler and National Socialism, to be sure, and Bonhoeffer in particular paid the ultimate price, executed for his involvment in anti-Hitler plots.

But they were equally concerned -- if not more concerned -- to call the church back to its roots. They confronted the "German Christian" movement which compromised the Christian gospel, embracing various social movements and cultural opinions as revelations of God. (It would be anachronistic to say they found the words of the prophets written on the subway walls...) They found authoritative revelations in culture, science, and human experience.

Against that, the Confessing church leaders declared "Jesus Christ, as he is attested for us in Holy Scripture, is the one Word of God which we have to hear and which we have to trust and obey in life and in death."

The mainstream church leaders called them narrow-minded, said they were resisting the new things God was doing in a new day. They thought looking for God's word in "other events and powers, figures and truths" outside the Scripture would open them to the work of the spirit.

Instead, it sapped their strength, and made the church useless when people needed it to stand up to the evil of National Socialism. It was not an opening that allowed them to receive new things from Jesus. It was instead an opening that allowed the power of their message to escape. It wasn't as much a door as a slow leak.

History has vindicated those narrow-minded folk who insisted the place where we hear the voice of the Word of God is in the Scripture. May we find the strength to follow their example.

'Consenting adults' may be the new standard, but it's not improved

In these confusing times, where can we go to find helpful moral guidance? In a previous post, I wrote about the Presbyterian Church (USA)'s attempt to offer that kind of guidance to teens through their God's Gift of Sexuality curriculum. The goal, according to a writer for the project speaking at an introductory workshop, was to free teens from rules so they could find the loving choice in each situation. This, they offered, was the new and improved way to find moral guidance.

The writer/presenter did not expect the question of how teens would recognize the loving choice. They rather assumed people would instinctively know the loving choice. Even if the curriculum didn't deal with it directly, surely people would realize what consenting adults did in private was their own business and did not need to be subject to moralistic second guessing.

It's been a familiar refrain for more than a generation: what consenting adults do in private is their own business. This seems to be the new standard for sexual morality. It may be new, but it is not improved. It is less than useless in making ethical distinctions.

Consider the first term: consent. Anyone who has worked with sexual harassment policies has seen the difficulty here. Too often the line between coercion and consent falls in different places, depending on who's drawing the line.

One says, "The conduct was consensual. You said yes; you agreed." The other responds, "Of course I agreed; I know what damage you could do to my career if I had said no."

The first answers, "I never threatened you." The second replies, "You didn't have to: I knew your position in the company and what you could do if you wanted to."

Consider the second term: adult. At the workshop, I raised the question "What magic thing happens on your 18^th or 16^th birthday that suddenly makes you able to offer intelligent, informed consent to sexual activity?"

A youth delegate to the workshop took that ball and ran with it. "Yeah," she added, "lots of my friends are more responsible than some college kids I know. Why can they make choices we can't?" The only honest answer to the youth's question is "well, we have to draw a line somewhere, and we know 10 is too young and 20 is too old."

Finally consider the last term: private. What does privacy have to do with anything? What impact does a "right of privacy" have in determining moral conduct? The right of free speech means conduct otherwise illegal is acceptable as long as you just write or talk about it. I hate to imagine what would happen to murder mystery writers otherwise!

But do we really want to say conduct otherwise immoral is moral simply because it's done in private? The "in private" venue of an action is essentially irrelevant. Murder is immoral whether done in public or private. Robbery is immoral whether done in public or in private. Adultery is immoral whether done in public or in private.

"What consenting adults do in the privacy of their own bedrooms is their own business" is certainly a popular slogan in this generation. It has attained the status of received cultural wisdom, at least in certain segments of society. But upon reflection, whether an act is performed by consenting adults in private is either meaningless or irrelevant in weighing moral alternatives.

The Christian tradition has held to the words of Jesus: the creator's intent was that sexuality was exercised in the context of a loving relationship where a man left his father and mother and was joined to his wife and the two become one flesh. The standard still has much to commend itÂ… but that's a story for another post.

What does "loving one another" really mean?

Mark Smith posted this in the Classical Presbyterian blog comment section (scroll down to get the whole comment):
"[T]he church should be clear on what it considers the most important facets of Christ-like behavior. If you sat down and wrote out a list of Christ-like behaviors, I really don't think sexuality is even in the top 20."
He offered his start for such a list:

1. Loving God
   
2. Loving One Another
   
3. Giving of your time and talents
   
4. Being a member of a spiritual community

In response, I suggested:

I guess it rather depends on how you answer the question "what does it mean to love one another?" Biblically love is not some vague emotion or some undefined set of good intentions. It is deliberate actions defending a person's best interests. "But how do I do that," some ask. And God's answer is the law: do not steal, do not kill, do not covet, do not commit adultery... and that last puts sexuality right there as the way we live out number two on your "list of Christ-like behaviors."

Many years ago, the Presbyterian Church (USA) was introducing a new sexuality curriculum, God's gift of sexuality. As part of the roll out, they held training events in each Synod to help educators and ministers understand how this new curriculum worked and what it was all about. As an interested educator, I made it a priority to attend our Synod's event.

Ours was a pretty small group; no more than a dozen. But that was good because it gave us lots of quality discussion and interaction with the design team member who was introducing the curriculum to us. And the trainer was certainly excited about the product they had designed. It was a whole new approach to church-based sexuality education. For the first time, giving students accurate biological information was a goal of the church's educational plan.

And this curriculum was going to free youth from the narrow moralisms that had characterized sex education in the church in previous generations. They would find freedom knowing the God of love did not expect rote obedience to the letter of the law. Rather they could follow the Spirit and do the loving thing in each situation and relationship.

Being rather younger and more impertinent than I am today, I asked what in this curriculum would help the youth recognize what the loving thing was. How would they know what love was?

The presenter was not expecting that question. It never occurred to the design team to write lessons about what love is. Don't we all instinctively know how to love?

But we don't. One of the great tragedies of life is how people can try to do the right thing but still fail. People can want to love, can try to love, but can still end up causing great pain.

But God, who knows the end from the beginning, has told us what love is. That's the point of a passage like Romans 13:10: "Love does not harm its neighbor. So love does everything the law requires."

The Heidelberg Catechism puts it well (especially in the Christian Reformed Church translation) at Question 91:

What do we do that is good? Only that which arises out of true faith, conforms to God's law, and is done for his glory; and not that which is based on what we think is right or on established human tradition.

Put it this way: if the most important thing God has to say to us is "you shall love," then doesn't it make sense that would come with at least some instruction in how to do it? What kind of God would say "The most important thing I want you to do is love, but if you're looking to me for help with how to do that, you're going to be disappointed"?

But he has helped us with the meaning of love. He has given us some instruction in how to love. He has given it in his statutes, in his ordinances, in his law. And that law is not a burden to be escaped. It's a blessed gift to be received with thanks.

You know the bit about "all work and no play…"

You never know what you'll find on line. One odd but intriguing link I found was to a site called the Portrait Illustration Maker. I can't say it looks exactly like me: the beard is seldom that well trimmed, and I don't think I have a shirt exactly that shade of blue... but the presence of the coffee cup is certainly true to life.
The little portrait icon was made by the Abi-Station. The Portait Illustration Maker asks for input about hair and eyes and backgrounds and such. Then it creates a little picture like you see off to the right. And, if I get the coding correctly, in my profile section on the blog. But that's a project for another day...

A decent man, a film-maker's target

Reporter Sharon Cohen begins the story this way:

He was a stern-faced sniper - and a soft-hearted Marine who handed out candy to kids in Iraq. He was a warrior who wrote poetry about life and death. ...

he had dreamed of joining the military ever since he was a little boy who liked to watch "M-A-S-H" on television and dress in fatigues and a camouflage shirt....

"He told me lots of times that he learned what could be accomplished .. if you put your heart and soul in it - and he put his heart and soul in the Marine Corps," says his father... "He was gung-ho from the time he signed his name until the day he died."...

[He] carried a Bible from his grandfather.... He kept it in his left shirt pocket next to his heart. Tucked inside was a photo of his wife and their two sons...

[He] had a full life outside the military. He liked to hunt and camp, take canoe trips and fish with his boys.

He was known as a charmer, a good talker, a champion of the underdog (always defending and befriending kids picked on in school) and though he was trained to fight and kill, he preferred the role of peacemaker.

"He didn't like turmoil," recalls his mother.... "He wanted everybody to be happy, to get along. ... He'd say 'Life's too short to sweat the small stuff.'"...

[A picture of him shows a] tough-minded Marine in helmet and combat gear - doling out candy from a plastic bag two months ago to schoolchildren in Iraq.

"He admired the Iraqi people," his father says. "He said, 'Dad, even though I can't understand a word they're saying, if we were back home ... we'd be buddies.'"

He seems to have been a very decent man. He could easily have grown to become the pillar of any number of smaller towns across the country. Who knows what good he might have accomplished in his life?

Might have, but won't, because Staff Sgt. Raymond Plouhar was killed in action late in June in Iraq. As we say around here, he gave all his tomorrows so that others might live today. He laid down his life, not for friends, but for strangers.

But millions of people will never know that Staff Sgt. Raymond Plouhar. Instead, they will meet a different person with that name. And they will think that person is the real Staff Sgt. Plouhar. After all, the movie they met him in was a "documentary," right?

He was featured in Michael Moore's antiwar documentary, "Fahrenheit 9/11," portrayed as an overzealous Marine recruiter who targeted poor kids....

The segment shows Plouhar and another Marine in a mall parking lot in a depressed suburb of Flint; it suggests the two men were cynically hunting for poor teens to sign up, rather than go to a wealthy suburb where they'd likely be rejected.

Of course, that's not now how Moore recruited Plouhar

Plouhar's father says his son told him he had been misled and believed he was being filmed for a documentary that would appear on the Discovery Channel. (Moore's office didn't return calls or e-mail messages seeking comment.)
"He cried when he found out what it really was," his father says. "He never dreamed that it was going to be something to slam the country, which he dearly loved."

And the pain of Moore's exploitation extended to Plouhar's family and friends

Leigh Plouhar says her husband asked her not to watch the film - and she never has. Nor has Stephen Wandrie, his friend of 20 years, who says Plouhar was hurt by the film, but told him: "You know what? I know what I do is good for this country and every one of those people I'm recruiting - those guys are my brothers."

Michael Moore is angry at those who lie to the people. He is angry at those who think their lies are just fine because they're in service of a higher agenda. He is angry at the way those lies have hurt people. He is using his skill as a filmmaker to make sure those who lie and hurt people feel the pain they cause others.

It's as if he said, You'll not get away with causing that pain; I have a camera and I know how to use it. But I wonder: does he feel any of the pain he has caused others as he pursued his higher agenda?

Neither Michael Moore nor his staff replied to AP reporter Sharon Cohen’s requests for comment; there’s still no comment posted on Moore’s web site about Staff Sgt. Plouhar. There is, however, a note “Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be soldiers.”

Staff Sgt. Plouhar seems to have known the special peace that comes to those who know false accusations will not affect their ultimate vindication. May his family find that comfort as they remember his sacrifice and service.

Kenneth Lay's legacy is a warning

Most of the coverage of Ken Lay's death remembers him as the mastermind of an elaborate corporate fraud. The San Francisco Chronicle's editorial is typical: "Because of Lay's accounting fraud, 5,000 jobs were lost, as well as $1 billion in employee pensions." And they comment, "Regrettably, Lay, who died at 64, will never spend time in prison to pay for what he did."

But Kenneth Lay was a more complex figure than that. In his private life, he was seen as a generous pillar of the community. He remembered he came from humble roots. His father was a shopkeeper who later became a minister. As a boy, his earnings from delivering papers and mowing lawns helped with the family finances. In his personal life, he remembered those lessons. Kevin Crowe in the Columbia Missourian put it, "Lay became known in Houston and beyond as someone willing to share the wealth. Universities, churches, museums and philanthropic associations all benefited from his, and EnronÂ’s, success."

Unfortunately, he was all too typical of the attitudes of this age. His virtues were a private matter. They didn't intrude on his public life. And when it came to running the business that became Enron, he did whatever would advance his company's profitability. And that high-flying success began to change his personal life. "We were living a very expensive lifestyle," Lay said during his trial. "It's the type of lifestyle that's difficult to turn off like a spigot."

The voice echoes on the wind: "he was seduced by the dark side." Perhaps there were people around him who knew "there is still good in him, I can feel it." But the support structures that could have nurtured that good, could have restrained the darkness, failed him. All those associations that benefited from his gifts: what did they give back to him? Who was in a position to give Ken Lay what he really needed?

They say "friends don't let friends drive drunk." Friends don't let friends destroy themselves. Friends don't let friends hurt others. But who was Ken Lay's friend? Who could have nurtured the good in him? They could have protected him... and the 5,000 people who lost their jobs.

Ken Lay's final legacy is a sad warning. It's a warning not to let the pursuit of success, achievement, or lifestyle turn us from the values we know are right. And it's a warning to intervene when we see that happening to others.

It's never just a story: DaVinci Code-inspired thoughts on the influence of stories

Many years ago, the ad for a horror movie advised, when the movie got too intense, just keep repeating “It’s only a movie, it’s only a movie…” Lots of people have similar advice in responding to the horror show that is The DaVinci Code. Just keep repeating “It’s only a novel. It’s just a work of fiction. It doesn’t prove anything.”

Except, of course, it’s never just a story.

Stories shape the way we see reality. They shape our perception of who we are and where we come from. That influence may be helpful or harmful, but it is never nonexistent.

Consider for a moment how many people believe they know something about the plight of children in Victorian London. Do they know that because they’ve studied historical documents of the time? Have they researched the sociology of the 19th century? Or have they read the stories of Charles Dickens?

Or consider how many people believe they know what life was like in the 17th and 18th century puritan New England colonies. It that because they’ve studied the history? Or is it because they’ve read the 19th century stories by Nathaniel Hawthorne?

When people evaluate the role of preachers who lead mass evangelism rallies, do they think of the real figure Billy Graham, or the fictional character Elmer Gantry?

The power of film to shape our perceptions of reality is even more powerful. Consider the influence of Leni Riefenstahl’s films (like Triumph of the Will and Olympia) on perceptions of Germany in the 30s. Or the influence of Sergi Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin on perceptions of the Russian Revolution. Or the influence of DW Griffiths’s Birth of a Nation on perceptions of southern reconstruction in the 19th century.

At one time or another (and for some even to this day), all these films have been censored or restricted or protested. People felt they had to fight to keep these films from shaping public views on these topics. They didn’t say “it’s only a movie.” They said “this movie is dangerous.”

Aboriginal cultures recognised the importance of the tribe storyteller. The storyteller shaped the tribe’s sense of who they were and how they were to live. They gave the storyteller special respect, but also expected the storyteller to hold firmly to the traditions. We should expect the same from our storytellers.

It’s not just a story – in a sense it’s never just a story. Our stories shape our sense of who we are. We need to be sure the stories reflect reality, because it does matter if they don’t.

Compassion is local too

The example of the Amish and the Mennonites came up several times during the week I spent with a team doing clean up and recovery work along the Gulf coast. Hurricane Katrina hit the end of last summer, and as this spring begins it seems the recovery work has hardly begun. Many people are still waiting for insurance companies and government agencies to fix things.

And yet some communities have made great strides. Everywhere there is lots to be done. But at least some communities can take comfort in the fact that they have already done quite a bit. They are the communities that didn't wait for someone to come rescue them. They're the communities that rolled up their sleeves and started doing what they could with whatever resources they had. Once those ministries were rolling along, outside groups could come in and help.

The Amish example works in this way: when a barn burns down in an Amish community, they don't wait for some outside agency or corporation to come in and help. The community bands together and has a good old barn raising. No forms to fill out, no applications and appeals process to run through, no claims adjuster findings to dispute. See the need, meet the need.

So some communities have made some strides to get back on their feet. And others are still waiting.

Some have written quite passionately about how the magnitude of last summer's disasters shows the need for a government welfare sector. (I responded to one essay in a previous post, "In the Katrina disaster, who abandoned whom?")I continue to believe, and my experience on the Gulf coast in March reinforced that belief, stronger bureaucracies will not produce a more compassionate society. Compassion happens between people, not between agencies and clients.

Many years ago, I worked with a food pantry that received some support through FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Association. The routine paperwork we had to deal with was annoying. But I remember thinking things like it's a time consuming annoyance to deal with this now -- but what if we ever have an actual emergency? We had one, and it turned out just like I thought it would.

Human needs aren't solved by agencies and bureaucracies. It does take a village: the people in the village coming together to help each other.

Strangely enough, two politicians I seldom agree with made the same point last fall. People "eager to transform the developing world are well advised to forgo political life and instead pour their efforts into non-governmental organizations -- or so say Paul Martin and Bill Clinton." Many reports of their remarks have been pulled from the web, but an account is still available at the University of Toronto news archive site.

Many years ago, when I studied political science, I learned the truism "all politics is local," not a matter of grand issues and concerns, but of ordinary things like pothole filling and such. In a similar sense, I rather think all compassion is local as well. Not a matter of grand strategies and bold initiatives, but of block by block, family by family cleaning, rebuilding, restoring.

Another warning about new dangers facing children

A 12-year-old girl and a 23-year-old male are accused of murdering three members of a family. That's unsettling enough, but what adds a special chill to the story is the information about how these two got together. "Accused killers met on vampire website":

The tie that binds the two -- aside from the criminal charges they now face -- is the Internet.
According to a friend of the 12-year-old girl, she met Steinke online at VampireFreaks.com, a website that caters to "gothic industrial culture," and claims to have over 500,000 members. ...
"Usually we hear about the Internet being used by predators to lure teens to be victimized," said John Manzo, a sociologist at the University of Calgary. "This is an unexplored danger of the Internet, that it gives people who would normally be isolated in their desires a social network to find like-minded people. ..."

In another generation, this kind of thing would provoke some anguished conversation about the need to protect our children. These days, though, it seems far more likely to provoke urgent appeals not to over-react by restricting the free flow of information. These days, it seems the greatest evils are censorship and restrictions on free speech.

In former generations, adults routinely endured inconveniences for the sake of the children. Society as a whole worked to support parents in the difficult task of child rearing. The most important thing was protecting the innocence of children.

But lately, it seems the attitude is "when did your kids become my problem?" Adults bristle at even the most minor restrictions on their free expression or access to whatever they desire. So what if a few kids get trampled in the process? Isn't that the parents' responsibility?

Personal checkpoints: am I doing God's work or mine?

With all of the alternatives and demands on our time these days, it's easy to lose track of what truly matters. I know I often need to ask -- and probably don't ask as often as I should -- whether I'm working for God or for myself. Any signposts that can help me stay on the proper path are deeply appreciated.
You may not be able to follow the link to this helpful posting at Dave Hackett's Frontier Blog: Is it a Ministry or Just a Job? I couldn't this week when I was looking for it last week. Google to the rescue! I found no less than a half dozen different versions of the thing. (And some came with a copyright notice and a claim to be the original…)
After reading and reflecting on the different versions, I boiled them down to this compilation. As I note at the end, I didn't originate it, but I do pray you find it helpful.

Is it a job or a ministry?

If you are doing it because you chose it, it is a job;
if you are doing it because Christ called you, it is a ministry.

If you do it because someone else thinks it needs to be done, it is a job; if you do it because you think it needs to be done, it is a ministry.

If you are doing it because no one else will, it's a job; if you are doing it to serve the Lord, it is a ministry.

If you are depending on your abilities, it is a job;if you are sure the most important thing is your availability to God, it is a ministry.

If you are ready to quit because no one ever praised you or thanked you, it is a job; if you stay with it even though no one notices your effort, it is a ministry.

If you are ready to quit because people criticize you, it is a job; if you are ready to keep serving, it is a ministry.

If your concern is success, it is a job; if your concern is faithfulness, it is a ministry.

If is hard to get excited about a job; it is almost impossible not to get excited about a ministry.

If you want others to say "great work," it is a job; if you want the Lord to say, "Well done, good and faithful servant," you have found your ministry.

An average congregation is filled with people doing jobs. A great and growing congregation is filled with people involved in ministry. God does not want us feeling stuck with a job, but excited and faithful to him in ministry.

Copied and adapted from various sources

Who created whom in who's image

The parlance of our times in the National Post offers comments that reveal the state of our celebrity leadership. The quote from Mary J. Blige printed April 20 about says it all:

"My God is a God who wants me to have things. He wants me to bling. He wants me to be the hottest thing on the block."

There's a unique comfort and affirmation found when we can make up our gods as we go along. The pain comes when reality sets in and these gods get filed under "Gods that failed."
And how tragic for those who get caught up in these fantasies when reality comes crashing in.