"Playground Wisdom"

Tuesday was one of those days when I had to talk a long walk.  A couple of days earlier news had come that a friend had taken his own life.  The next day I learned of another good friend’s diagnosis of cancer.  Yet the sun was warming the cool fall air.  So I walked. I walked along the boardwalk which follows the river bank. I saw fish jump and geese land.  I saw the leaves dying, the evidence of which was their spectacular beauty.  It’s a wonder, isn’t it, that God chose the leaves of trees to paint for us a different picture of dying?  Do you doubt that the fall’s dying leaves will become spring’s baby buds?

On my return route, having thought for quite a while now about why my friend who died had lost all hope; pondering why cancer is so indiscriminate a disease; I took the upper route, which took me past a park.  I see children, middle-school aged, I guess, all in their black tee shirts and shorts. A gym class takes his charges outside today. The lesson plan is to have the children learn to toss a football. Groups of 3 or 4 children tossing a football back and forth, Mr. Teacher standing in the middle of the park, looking at me walk by and looking at the children and the footballs falling on the ground. Does Mr. Teacher have the look of someone who is lost or losing it? I cannot decide.

The 20 or 30 children toss and toss the footballs.  I begin to gain new admiration for the fact that there are enough passers to populate all of America’s high school’s football teams. I see now future quarterbacks today, for there is not one completed pass in the entire time of my viewing. One boy is throwing the ball off on a 45 degree angle. A girl tosses a wounded duck falling 10 feet short of her classmate target 20 feet away.  Another girl tells her mate, “You can throw the ball, but you can’t throw it where it’s supposed to go.”  The mate, who I envision as a future philosophy professor, exclaims, “Well, at least now we know our strengths and weaknesses. You can’t catch, but you can tell me what I am doing wrong. I can throw, but not in the right direction.” Toss-thud. Toss-thud. Toss-thud…

Maybe the philosopher quarterback got the point of the day’s lesson plan.  “At least we know our strengths and weaknesses.”  That might be enough to save a life.  In my weakness, Lord, make me strong.  My strength is in you, Lord. My hope is in you, Lord.  Lord, teach me to believe that you care for dying leaves and baby buds. And me.  

Finding Mr. Murray

When Ted Melfi decided to write his movie “Mr. Vincent”  he had one lead actor in mind, Bill Murray.  Bill Murray, he surmised, would be the perfect fit for the role of the gruff, self-absorbed Viet Nam vet whose life is redeemed by a child. (WSJ 10.3.14, D. Steinberg)  Mr. Melfi’s problem was that he didn’t know how to find Mr. Murray and Mr. Murray doesn’t like to be found, especially by a first time screen writer/ “wanna-be” director.  But Ted was sure that he needed Bill if this movie was going to be what he envisioned.  So Ted starts calling around Hollywood. (This is a true story.) He finds a producer, who he knew from other work, who had worked with Bill, who finally agrees to give out Bill’s 800 phone number. That’s it. An 800 number.

Ted starts calling the 800 number and leaving messages.  The 800 number is an answering service with a recorded voicemail voice telling him to press 5 and leave a message. This went on for a couple of months.  Finally, after leaving long voice mails describing the role and the movie and begging for a call back, one day an attorney calls Ted and direct him to send a one page letter describing the role to a post office box in New York.  A few weeks pass and Ted receives instructions to send the script to Martha’s Vineyard, and then a few weeks later to send it again to South Carolina.  Weeks pass. And then, one day Ted is driving along and his phone rings and the voice on the other end is, you guessed it, Bill Murray.

Bill tells Ted he likes the movie and they should talk. Now. In Cannes.  Mr. Melfi explains that he is working in Los Angeles.  So Bill says that maybe it’s not meant to be and hangs up. He’ll call some other time.  This drives Ted into such a state of stress that he throws out his back. He can hardly function, thinking his dream was ended. Until he gets a text two weeks later from Bill: let’s meet in an hour at the airport.  Ted puts on his back brace, takes his pain pills and goes to meet Bill.  They meet and drive for three hours to Bill’s place and, well, as they say, the rest is history. “Mr. Vincent” is coming to a theatre near you, starring (wait for it)…Bill Murray.

Whatever your dream is, what are you willing to do to make it come true? How long will you wait to find your “Mr. Murray”?  Oh, and, God doesn’t have an 800 number.

"The Hurricane Effect"

The speaker was trying to explain his investment advice by drawing an illustration from the aftermath of a hurricane.  He said that after a hurricane rips through a neighborhood a typical reaction might be that you come out of the basement and look at your own home. You see it has been hardly damaged, say thanks, and look around the street.  You see other houses standing, and the homeowners likewise thankful their houses are standing.  But then everyone looks to the house at the end of the block and see that it is destroyed. You see the homeowners family standing there in shock, staring at the rubble which was their home. You go to comfort them and offer assistance.  As time goes by, the destroyed home gets rebuilt and it is now as hurricane-proof as you can make a house.  All of the “lucky” neighbors thought about doing something to “hurricane-proof” their own homes but didn’t follow through.  So, he asked, if you were buying a house on that block which one would you buy?

His point related to investments: buy stock in funds which weathered the post-2008 financial “storms”. They are more “hurricane-proof” when another financial storm hits. All of the other sectors thought about taking steps to protect themselves, but in the end they stayed as they were, just as susceptible to major losses.  I don’t know about that, but it sounded to me very much like the talk I hear about other parts of life.  We have all heard of someone who dies “too young” leaving a young family behind.  The typical response is, “I am going to start spending more time with my family” or “I am going to start taking better care of my health.”  But, what do most of us do? Nothing different.  That’s the “hurricane effect” I see so often.  We see the devastating effects of life and death and we vow to build defenses against those effects, but, then, pretty soon, we are living our lives again as if there never was a “hurricane.”  “The hurricane may affect the guy on the end of the block, but it won’t affect me.”

I see this in spiritual and religious life as well.  How many people do we know, including ourselves, who say that “I know I need God in my life”; or, “I know I am better off when I am surrounded by a faith community”; or, “I need to devote more time to religious practices”,  after some life-changing event which makes us aware of what a spiritually weak foundation we have in our lives.  But, in no time at all we forget that promise to re-build our house on rock instead of sand, and we remain vulnerable to the very same storms of life that we were before. For centuries humans have heard the story of the wise and foolish builders, only to conclude it applied to someone else.  So, today, why not read Matthew 8:24-27 and this time, really start re-building your life. Don’t fall victim to the hurricane effect.

It's (sort of) Free!

We were staying at a (sort of) motel with our grandsons. In the morning they proudly displayed to me their cup of (sort of) free donut holes, exclaiming, “Grandpa Bill, you get to eat all of the donuts you wants for free!”  I proceeded to explain that the donuts were just (sort of) free because they were included in the cost of the room, but they were too busy wiping white sugar from their faces to listen. And, anyway, they didn’t pay for their room, so I guess for da Boyz (as I call them), the donuts really were free.

That’s pretty much true about all the (sort of) free stuff in life.  Your buddy gives you tickets to the game. They cost your buddy money, but to you they really are free.  Nothing is free in the first place, right? I mean, everything cost something to someone before it became free to you.  So, I figure free things are just (sort of) free.  We should think about the cost of the free stuff. And we do.  When we get free tickets to our favorite team’s big game from our friend we offer to pay; we say thank you; we try think of ways we can repay the gift, taking them out for a meal, etc.  But, the friend says, “No, take them. I am happy for you to have them. Enjoy!”  To you they are really free!

Like churches and synagogues.  In Germany church most churches aren’t even (sort of) free.  If you want a church in which to be “married and buried” then you pay a tax of 8% to 9% of your income to support the churches.  About 60% of the nearly 81 million Germans pay a total of $13.2 billion to finance most of the churches and synagogues.  Recently, the Germans expanded their collection efforts to collect a tax on retirement income.  This year 500,000   “church members” are expected to quit the church to avoid the tax.  There is a “free church” (no tax required) movement in Germany, but the churches are much smaller.  Why doesn’t everyone just go to the “free” churches?

That’s the thing about houses of worship in the United States.  They are really free. In fact, the tax system gives incentives to support religion because we really don’t want the government involved in our religion.  Think about it though.  Are churches really free, or just (sort of) free?  Churches and synagogues exist because some people freely give some percentage of their income or assets to keep the doors open and the staff employed.  Some people give nothing because they cannot or because they figure, like the donuts, church is (sort of )free.  They are wrong.  Church is really free because salvation is really free. Everyone loves free donuts. Why don’t we love free church?

Better Than Baboons

Who’s more successful? Who’s richer? Who’s happier? Who’s kids are smarter?  The list of comparison questions goes on for quite a while, questions we consciously or subconsciously ask ourselves as we try to figure out who’s more important than us.  One evening we were visiting some friends who were explaining to us about the neighbors new, expensive car and their one car garage. It seemed that the man who owned the new “status” car always used the one car garage while the woman, who had a  kid-toting car, was thus always required to park outside.  Why, our friends wondered, would you buy a car like that in the first place, and why would the man always get to park in the garage?  It’s all about status.  We are all interested in evaluating our status relative to others and, on occasion, doing something to display our superior status.

But, as it turns out, this process of establishing and evaluating status is not unique to humans. Ravens do it, and so do baboons.  Baboons spend a good deal of their time mastering calls which display their dominance over others. (“Humans Aren’t The Only Animals Stuck on Status.” Robert M. Sapolsky, WSJ May 24-25, 2014)   The status of a baboon can be determined by their call. You can figure out not only which baboon is number one, but which one is number three or ten.  As I was explaining all of this to our friend who asked about the status car, she suddenly started mimicking baboon sounds: “Hoo-hoo; Wha-wha; hoo-hoo-hoo!”  Well, she was clearly the best baboon imitator I had ever heard!  I invite you to right now do your best imitation, out loud, and see who is the dominant baboon in your house.  (Warning: this should not be done while others are sleeping.)

Jesus teaches us to always place others ahead of ourselves; to go the extra mile; to be servants of everyone, washing each other’s feet.  This is not only counter-cultural. If Mr. Sapolsky is correct, it goes against our human instincts to seek superior status.  When you see a menial task that needs to be done in your faith community, are you more likely to say “that’s someone else’s job” or “let me do that service so someone else doesn’t need to.”  Serving the poor; housing the homeless; serving in the nursery; mentoring children; visiting the lonely.  Our society and our human nature do not put these tasks high on the status list. And that is the nature of serving our God. The member with the biggest voice and the best call is not the most important.  The challenge of the church is to teach that it is better to be a lowly servant in human eyes because we will be and are exalted in God’s eyes as we submit to and serve others.  Baboons may not be buying this distinction. But we are better than baboons, rights?

"I Know How You Feel"

Steve died. He was just about 50. He was married and had four children, ranging from one still quite young to the one ready to start college in the fall.  Steve was a lawyer, but his work didn’t define him. What defined Steve’s life was coaching sports for his kids and all of their friends.  What defined Steve was volunteering to help children find a new “normal” in programs like Rainbow Kids.   What defined Steve’s life was actually talking to his kids and watching movies with them and just being Dad.  And Steve loved his dear wife of so many years.  And then one morning, without warning, young Steve’s heart stopped working.  Steve died.

The funeral service was a few days later.  The eldest son spoke eloquently on behalf of the children.  Of the many, many men in the congregation, few had dry eyes.  We didn’t know how that young man felt, but we could see our own sons, or we could remember our own fathers.  Steve’s sister spoke.  She began by telling us that she wished she could tell us about how much Steve enjoyed seeing his children graduate from college; sharing their wedding day joy; coaching his grandchildren’s teams. But, of course, she could not. And the many, many women in the congregation joined the many, many men in weeping for the shared moments that would not be.

The pastor spoke next and he began with a story of his own life.  You see, as it happened, the pastor’s father died when the pastor was a young boy.  So it was that he could relate to the children “I know how you feel.”  In speaking with the pastor’s wife after the service, she related what people in “compassion work” know: one of the last things you want to say to a grieving person is, “I know how you feel” unless, of course, you do.  And the pastor did know, and his message for the children was simple and profound: your father’s early death will change your life forever, but, you will grow into someone unique and treasured, because of who your father was.

I marvel at this: God’s design is not that Steve should die young, but that when Steve dies young, his family would be a part of a faith community led by a pastor who could say to Steve’ children, “I know how you feel.”  A sermon, we believe, is the Spirit speaking through imperfect preachers God’s perfect message for God’s children.  You could say it was happenstance, but I say it is providential that God brought this preacher to this family at this moment to let them know, God knows how you feel.  “Jesus wept.”

Things That Only Seem Late

Babies, for example.  The “due date” of a baby is, I suppose, a helpful thing for parents and doctors to guess about.  But,  from my very limited perspective, announcing a due date seems to cause more stress and strain than necessary.  I think that if I were a baby-predicting doctor I would just give general windows, like, “your baby will be born sometime around June, or maybe May or July.  Whenever it is, you’ll know. So, be ready!”

Jesus, for another example.  One of our readers, in response to my comment that “Jesus was never late”, commented that to Martha and Mary, at the time, Jesus appeared to be late.  You remember the story.  Jesus’ best friend, Lazarus, was very sick. Jesus got the word and delayed his departure. By the time he arrived at their home Lazarus had died and Martha told Jesus that if he had made it on time her brother would not have died.  But, of course, Jesus wasn’t late.  He had his reasons.  So, Jesus calmly tells her, “Your brother will rise again.” And, of course, he does.  Which sort of was the beginning of the end, or the beginning of the beginning (depending on your point of view.) (John 11)

The bridegroom, for example.  Not the bridegroom who keeps his bride waiting on his wedding day. He really is late, and he is really in trouble.  But the bridegroom for whom the ten virgins are waiting.  They all want to go to the big party, but the party doesn’t start until the bridegroom arrives.  They wait and wait, and they all fall asleep. Finally, at midnight, the big announcement comes, “here comes the bridegroom.”  But some of the virgins had forgotten to put enough oil in their lamps to re-light them. So they need to find an all-night oil store, but while they are gone shopping the bridegroom arrives. The virgins who were prepared for the “whenever” arrival enter the banquet with the bridegroom. Let the party begin! But, those who weren’t ready, well, by the time they got back from their shopping trip, it was too late. (Matthew 25)

You can give babies a due date, but no one told the baby.  You can give Jesus a deadline, but he has a better sense of time that do you.  The party starts when the party starts. Be ready.  Some things, you see, only seem late.