Who are ya' votin' for?

Here in America, we vote for all kinds of things: presidents, state representatives, senators, judges, mayors, council men (or council persons), sheriffs and deputies (Andy of Mayberry and Barney Fife), jailer, county clerk, state vegetable inspector, the home school homework police, water fountain patrol coordinator … okay, I made the last few up. But with ballot initiatives like endangered species status for possums, it can take 10 minutes just to get through the ballot.

So this year I’m voting for Donny Welch, City Commissioner of Nicholasville. No, actually, I’m not. Why? Because I can’t vote. I am only a Resident Alien. Which means I can pay taxes, hand out Donny Welch flyers door to door, tell my neighbors about what a good guy Donny Welch is … but I can’t vote.

So, for all you bona fide, real Americans: get out and vote!! Earn the right to complain about the government that gets elected. Vote for somebody. Vote for anybody. Vote twice to cover for me not being able to vote. Line up, register, and put your x beside whoever you like. Just do it. Vote!

By the way … can anyone tell me who in the world Donny Welch is?

… just thinkling.

You too can be a saint!

Just think of it: St Bob. St Chuck. St Lucy of Lexington. Or my favorite: St. Stephen the Remarkable, Pious and Humble. I thought of this when I found this website, which is now listed among the bookmarked sites on my “Favorites” list. It’s called the Saints calendar and it lists the daily saints for the Catholic Church. I find it curious, interesting and sometimes amusing all at the same time.

Like today. Today is September 18 and the saint for today is Saint Joseph of Cupertino. The interesting thing about him is that he is the patron saint of astronauts. What makes that also amusing is that he died in 1673, just a century or two or three before manned space flight.

Now we know from Scripture that every believer in Jesus Christ is called a saint. (Romans 1:7 and count 'em, 68 other places in the Bible.) No one person has special spiritual status as a saint above other believers. We are all equal before God.

But I think the Catholic calendar of saints has this real value: they remember people. People who made a difference. People who made great sacrifices for God, many of whom were martyred. People whose lives are really worth remembering.

In the present 21st church, we tend to be preoccupied with the present tense: what’s current, what’s trendy, what’s the latest worship music or what’s the hottest media innovation, what’s the new best seller among Christian books, etc, etc.

And we tend to forget the great men and women of faith in our own tradition who made it possible for us to live for Jesus in this present tense. I wouldn’t want to make them saints. But it would be helpful to all of our faith journeys if we didn’t forget them … if we remembered the great things they did for God and let them inspire us. From the John Wesleys and Jonathon Edwards. From the Savonarolas to the Martin Luthers. And from our old Sunday School teachers and former pastors and courageous missionaries … great saints all. We need to remember them.

What’s the old saying? “The road to tomorrow runs through yesterday.” And if we were better students of yesterday, we’d end up being stronger believers in the present. And braver prophets of the future. Remember that. And remember them.

…just thinkling

34 years and counting ... or napping

We just had our 34th wedding anniversary this past Sunday. We celebrated by taking a nap.

Some folks wine and dine. Some folks take a cruise. Some folks do dinner and a movie. Some sit by the ocean and watch the tide.

But not us. We took a nap. And then we took a short walk around the block, had a heart healthy snack, decided not to go to a movie, had another nap, then read for a while, then watched a British murder mystery, and then we went to bed. And fell into a serious, extended nap called sleep.

This being married so long is sure exhausting. As soon as I finish this I think I'll have a nap.

"You're getting sleepy ... you're getting sleepy ..."

...just thinkling

Where were you?

Where were you when the Towers fell? I was at my computer in my study at work when Sue Cook walked in and told me that a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. A few weeks earlier, a baseball player who was an amateur pilot, had crashed his plane on a recreational solo flight. I thought something similar had happened in New York. I was wrong, of course.

Where were you when the Towers fell? This morning, as I write this, I am at my computer in my study and it's September 11th all over again. Deja vu. I almost expect Sue to come in and tell me all over again what just happened. Instead, my son Jordan just walked in and told me about his job prospects. I guess life, in all of its relentless course, marches on. People marry. Kids grow up. Someone moves away. Someone new takes the desk beside yours at work. The economy rises and falls and our politics gets nasty to the point of embarassment. So is that it?

Where were you when the Towers fell? If you can go to that place and remember. If you cannot go there physically, let your imagination take you there. Because for some, life did not keep marching on. And there are families that were forever shattered. And lovers and friends who lost someone dear will wake up today and half expect the one they lost to come walking through the door.

Where were you when the Towers fell? Remember. Remember that you are free and alive. Remember that others are forever wounded and broken by what happened on that day. And don't just remember. Pray. And maybe pray most of all that we always will remember.

...just thinkling

God is not a father.

It's true. God is not a father. No where in the Bible does it say that He's a father.

Worried? You shouldn't be.


Because the Bible calls Him the Father ... as in THE Father. God is the original Father from whom all other fathers find some measure of rootedness in their identity as fathers. But God THE Father is not a father like your dad or mine. He is THE Father. Every other father there ever was only reflects who He is in very limited and inaccurate ways. And a lot of those fathers do it very poorly. Some of them abusively and destructively. And let's face it: some of them are just buffoons, which is only a step or two up in the food chain from baboons.


Which of course makes fathers an easy target for ridicule. Television and movies have had a field day making fun of fathers for generations. From Ralph Kramden to Fred Flintstone to Homer Simpson to ... well, you get the point. And subtley, its not hard to begin to think that THE Father is just like any other father, only beginning with a capital "F".

But the mix-up of fathers and THE Father doesn't stop there, does it? Others ascribe a 'maleness' to God THE Father that is really nothing more than the crippled and distorted 'maleness' of the fathers who populate our personal world. And as a result, there are folks who completely ridicule the idea of God as a father. Because if God is only like the fathers they see in life, then He's not much of a God.

Still, on the other hand, some of the fathers in this world are just plain wonderful. Like me for instance! ;-)!! I'm certain that my kids who read this blog think I am the world's greatest dad. Why, they've even given me a T-shirt that says I am! (That was meant to be sincere, right?!)


But some of the fathers of this world really are just awful. Real duds. And if God THE father was only a bigger version of one of those fathers, I don't blame some folks for what they conclude about the Fatherhood of God.


Well, the good new is that's not who THE Father is. He's not even like me ... as wonderful a father as I imagine myself to be. He is THE Father: perfectly loving and just and kind and good and merciful and fair and on and on it goes...perfection upon perfection.


(Ya know, if you're a permanent kid like me, given that THE Father is completely perfect in every way and never forgets anything, I'm kinda wondering: "where's my allowance?" But I digress.)


So ... given that God is THE Father and He really is perfect, that means I don't have to worry about the fatherhood issue and God after all. Because THE Father really is THE Father not simply a father.

And maybe this world would think a lot more of Him if we thought a lot more like Him.


...just thinkling

But can you sing?

Once upon a time, if you were looking for employment, at the very top of your resume would be your experience in the job you were applying for. If you want a job as a writer, can you write? If you want a job as a plumber, can you plumb!?

But apparently, that's changing.

Steve Stark, writer and political commentator, wrote this today...

"...given the popularity of reality shows, it is no surprise that, in 2008, the nation is being treated to an American Idol election. During the past decade, if there's one type of programming that's been pushed relentlessly, it's reality television. The whole concept of reality TV is the same as American Idol: anyone can be famous, so much so that we can eliminate the professionals and make "the people" the stars.

It's a very democratic idea and very traditional American ideal. But it's never before had the political currency it has now.The search for undiscovered electoral talent has led the Democratic Party to nominate Barack Obama, its least-experienced candidate in memory. And this past week, the Republicans trumped that exponentially by elevating Sarah Palin from the relative depths of political obscurity to the nation's center stage."

Ouch. And ouch again. We're looking to hire someone for the most powerful job in the freeworld and job experience has become a handicap, not an asset. You can argue about which person is more experienced. But in the end, maybe that doesn't matter much. We don't want "the same old Washington elites" or "the same old Washington politics" ... phrases lifted from both campaigns. On both party's ticket, new and fresh has become more appealing than seasoned and experienced. The professionals with the resumes are giving way to the neophytes with the charm and charisma.

Funny ... if I needed a plumber, I wouldn't hire an electrician. So if I needed a politician, I think I'd hire one. But can they sing?

...just thinkling

I don't like spiders and change ... and change?!

It's a hot summer day a few weeks ago and my granddaughters are playing with Legos and their imaginations in the cool shade of our screened in porch. And then the animated yelling starts.

"Meg! Move! Get out of the way! Move! Megan!"

"Kyra! Don't tell me ... yikes!! A daddy long legs!!" (I think she hollered daddy long legs because "phalangium opilio" was too long a word to shout in a crisis.)

Well, it didn't take long for two little girls to put some distance between them and the spider. They came spilling into the house, excited terror in their eyes, calling for me to rescue them from what was certain "little girl death." I was reluctant to forsake my wonderfully horizontal position on the couch, so I told them where they could find the fly swatter, which in our house is called the bug whapper.

After a few a furtive whispers and intense strategic planning, one or two whaps later the spider was seriously dead. I know this because they gathered up its pitiful remains in a Kleenex and came and laid their trophy on my chest to prove their collective triumph over fear and death. I rewarded them with a mumbled smile and sent them back outside, still armed with the bug whapper in case another terrifying spider showed up.

A few minutes later, all I can hear from the porch is laughing and shouting and our furniture being pushed around. I pull myself up to a sitting position, a major effort on my part, and there are my two girls chasing a fly with the bug whapper and missing wildly and amusingly. After about 10 minutes of this the fly is unharmed and doing very well. And the girls are panting between giggles and regaling each other with their comic exploits.

Now, what makes the difference between a quick and decisive victory over a daddy long legs and a prolonged and indecisive non-victory over a fly? It's all about direction and the road that's travelled. A daddy long legs makes a pretty easy target for a little girl with a bug whapper: they travel on the most readily available surface and run in pretty much a straight line. Flies however, take off and scribble their way through the air, buzzing in a 100 unpredictable patterns ... landing anywhere they like and taking off in a whole new direction at will. So when it comes to the skill of escaping a bug whapper, daddy long legs end up at a lot of funerals and flies end up nibbling on the funeral lunch.

All of this is an interesting picture of the changes that are happening in the field of ... change! It used to be that change was predictable. It was built from one idea to the next, each one building on the last, each technology based on the previous technology, each reasoned thought connected to the previous one. It was like a daddy long legs: moving in a pretty much a straight line on the most readily available surface (i.e.) the idea that preceeded it.

But that's changing. Allan Hirsch in his book "The Forgotten Past" talks about moving into a new era of "discontinuous change". Change won't happen in systematic, 'trace-able' patterns and logical sequences anymore. Change will come in a manner that is discontinuous with what preceded it. It won't look like a daddy long legs running in a straight line across the back porch. It will look more like a fly buzzing randomly along an unmarked path through the air ... as unpredictable as the weather and as hard to figure out as a teen age girl's cell phone bill.

If you're like me and older than 45, we come into such times as these already "change weary." We've seen more change in our time than every previous generation combined. So when someone talks about discontinuous change, our response might likely be: stick to what you know, hold on to how you've always done it, and hope not to get washed away in this new tide of change. But will that really help?

And if you are younger than 45, the rapid pace of change you've always lived with is now about to go into hyperdrive and you won't really have a clue who's steering the future. If you feel like you're on a roller coaster without tracks it's because you are. And you might very well just stop thinking that you know where in the world life is going and just ride the wave. But will that really help?

What will really help? How are we supposed to live in a world of unpredictable, complex, 'doesn't-make-a-whole-lot-of-sense' discontinous change? Well, how's this for an answer? I have no idea. But it's worth thinking about, don't you think? After all, it is the future we're going to live in ... not the past.

... just thinkling.