The Opposite of False

I spent much of Friday trying to find something I could write about Ryan Braun which would be worth the effort.  Every time I would get close to a worthwhile thought about the lies and deception of Mr. Braun, the opposite of what he represents appeared before my eyes. The truth was revealed.

I was thinking about how easy it must have seemed to Mr. Braun, gifted with rare athletic skill, the owner of a multi-million dollar contract, charming and head-turning handsome; how easy it must have been for him to believe that he could turn a lie into reality.  He really believed, I guess, that he could charm his way out of an outright lie about his use of performance-enhancing drugs.  I was ready to conclude that everything in his public life is now suspect.  And just then, right before my eyes on my morning walk,  were three deer, two adults and one fawn, still with white specks on its fur. I stopped. They stopped. We  all stared.  I raised my hand and pronounced God’s blessings on their heads. And they glided away, feet barely touching the dew on the fairway. And I thought about how creation always outshines our human-made false “reality”.

Later that morning I was preparing to bless a group of missionaries about to head off for 10 days.  I was thinking about the smear on the Brewers, Mr. Braun’s team (for now); how their recent success is tainted by his lies.  But just as I was working up good line of indignant anger, I saw a little brother being peeled away from his farewell hug for his big sister.  Letting her go, he said, “This is the worst day of my life.”  And that became the truth that I could not stop thinking about, how life-changing a good “family” can be. I raised my hand and blessed that family, the mission group and their vehicle, and they all went off to tell the truth to strangers half-way across our nation.

I came home at the tail end of a thunderstorm.  I was thinking about how the “Braun” jerseys now read “Fraud” across the back. I wondered if it was worth telling a lie. I was listening to the awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping choral movement of Beethoven’s masterpiece 9^th as I pulled into our driveway. I saw in the house window the reflection of a rainbow which had appeared behind me at the trailing edge of the storm. With the perfect notes rising and the perfect colors dancing I decided I didn’t need to write about Mr. Braun’s false reality when all around me is truth. Luther got it right,  “God’s Truth abideth still.” God’s Kingdom is forever. And that is the opposite of false. Hallelujah.

"Oh What a Tangled Web!"

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive." - Sir Walter Scott

I have been living a lie. A big lie. Well, some people would call it a white lie. But, frankly, even with my best word search tools, I can’t find the version of the Bible which reads: “Thou Shalt Not Lie (except for little white lies.)”  And after this experience, I can see why God went to all the trouble to carve this command on the Top Ten list.

You see, today is a very big day in my wife’s life, a BIG birthday. No, I will not reveal how big. I will just say that I got married as a junior in college, and my bride was of “marrying” age. You do the math. Now, as this big day approached I had to come up with some really big surprise. I knew the one thing that my wife would love is if our children and their spouses and our grandsons would all be here. Getting them here was easy. The surprise was not. Which is where the web of lies became necessary.  The problem is that over the course of two months the lie had to get bigger and bigger, and the number of people who had to play along grew.  In the last days I was making fake hotel reservations, doctoring the pages to make it appear we were going away for the weekend.   And each time she would bemoan that “Too bad the boys can’t come to see their grandma on her birthday,” we all would need to create a complicated fabric of untruths, each of us trying to remember who said what and when. Add to the weekend a surprise dinner party, and now the big lie involves 14 adults. Some of my wife’s best friends haven’t called her in a week for fear of spilling the beans! And whenever someone would say something contrary to the agreed upon outline of deception, I needed to come up with even more devious and deep, dark stories of deception. All of which was resolved in joy and tears when children and spouses and those little boys showed up out of “nowhere” last night. 

But I think God, and Sir Walter, got it very right.  Just don’t lie. The web gets tighter and tighter.  And pretty soon, the whole deception hangs on one tiny strand of the vast web which, if it breaks, will cause a bigger mess than getting a spider in your hair. After this experience I cannot imagine the pressure that must exist from living a real lie. I don’t want to find out, and I strongly recommend against it. Well, actually, God’s words on the subject are a little stronger than a recommendation. And one day we can ask God if deception which has a greater good as its end is breaking the commandment or not.  I am not going analyze that right now, because the big birthday surprises are still coming.  And that’s no lie.  Happy Birthday, dear. (Don’t worry; she never reads these until Monday. That’s what she tells me anyway. That’s the truth, right dear?)

"Where Did All the Money Go?"

Jason Trigg is working very hard to earn as much money as he can.  I am trying to think of what is the opposite of that goal.  Working as hard as I can without worrying about how much I make?  Or, working as hard as I need to work in order to meet the needs I have?  Or how about, I am working as hard as I need to work to pay for all of the “wants” I have added to my list of needs? Which of those options describe you? There are certainly others ways to describe why we work, but our work choices:  how hard we choose to work and why,  do say a great deal about us.

Which brings me back to Jason Trigg.  Mr. Trigg is a smart guy with very marketable skills, being a graduate of the prestigious MIT computer science program. (Christian Century 6.26.13) What is unique about Mr. Trigg’s vocational choice is not that he is working as hard as he can to make as much as he can, but that he is doing so for the express purpose of giving away as much money as he can.  The story I read explains that Mr. Trigg works at his Wall Street hedge fund company so that he can give money to his favorite charity, Against Malaria Foundation, which estimates that a gift of $2500 saves one life.   The philosophy behind this approach to work is that it is just as important, if not more important, to give money so that Africans can dig wells than to actually go to Africa to drill them.  The whole concept of “mission” work moves from “going to Africa” (or wherever you might see a need) to sending money so that the people there can help themselves.

Now, this isn’t to say that mission trips are not important. They are important and they do serve a valuable purpose. But, frankly, in today’s world there are fewer and fewer people who are able to take time during their “work years” to take even a week for a mission trip.  So what if we thought of our “work” as our “mission.” What if we could see our hours clocked behind a machine or a computer or a lawn mower as a contribution to saving a life?  Then, when at the end of the month we ask where all the money we earned went, we could smile because we would know that we worked as hard as we  could to give away as much as we can.

Why will you work this week? What will you do with the money you earn?  Would you like your job better if, like Mr. Trigg, your goal in making money was to give it away?

Too Many Fireworks?

There were celebrations in the streets, fireworks included.  Joining the celebration were a dozen fighter jets, leaving trails of colored smoke representing the colors of the flag. The people were jubilant, shouting, singing, hugging.  Yes, it was quite an independence day.  Wait a minute, didn’t this all happen just last year?  I wonder if this is going to happen every year, or if at some point the people might decide that there is such a thing as too many fireworks.

That’s what I would be thinking if I lived in Egypt.  President Morsi, the man who was the symbol of the return of democracy to Egypt in 2012 is now a political prisoner. The military responded to the protests of the people  against the president they had elected.  Of note, for our purposes, is the fact that Mr. Morsi was a religious man.  He was a former leader of a group called the Muslim Brotherhood.  It is too early to know, but was the mix of religion and civil power too much for the people, or for the military?  Would the “people” really rather be ruled by the military?  What were the Egyptian revolutionaries protesting against, what freedom did they seek?

Which is what I was thinking on a spectacular July 4^th in the United States, a day when the nation where I live was engaged in days of fireworks to celebrate not that the president was in jail, but that the nation was still, 237 years (!) later, free from the tyranny of an unelected government.  What exactly is it that holds the United States of America together for 237 years while Egypt’s revolution didn’t last but a year?  I began my 4^th of July reading the Declaration of Independence.  It is a mostly timeless piece of political brilliance.  The power of the government rests in the “consent of the governed.”  It sounds a note of caution: “Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light or transient causes”, and that a people should “suffer…while evils are sufferable… .”  I think the U.S. persists because the vast majority get that idea.  But, for me, the most brilliant move of the revolutionaries is that they did not impose a state religion.  They knew that politics and religion are a dangerous brew which can boil over at any time.  They knew that their “unalienable rights” came from “their Creator”; they acted “with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence”; but they understood that human freedom means religious faith is a personal relationship with God and not a matter of governmental dictate.  So, as I watched the fireworks this year, I celebrated this truth: no president, no congress, no army, can choose my God for me.  And that is a truth worthy of fireworks forever.

Talking Chairs

There it was, sitting on a raised platform, centered in the concert hall to give the best view of the orchestra, this massive white chair with lots of space all around so as not to be bothered by the wiggles and noises of the common-folk in surrounding chairs. The crowd, assembled and seated, dressed in their best, waiting for the guest of honor, was about to be shocked.  For when the time arrived for the first notes of Beethoven’s music to fill the concert hall, instead the air was filled with the sounds of confusion, for the guest of honor was a no-show.  Pope Francis again refused the honor of the Pope’s Chair.  In fact, this time, instead of refusing to sit in his chair, he didn’t enter the hall at all.  The Empty Chair had a message from the Pope: “Don’t honor me; honor God.  I have work to do.”  At least that is the message I heard from the chair.  The Chair was talking alright, telling the Vatican and the world that this humble messenger of Christ had other priorities, that his call to serve is not fulfilled in big white chairs in concert halls.

What will the chairs you are offered seating in this week be talking about? What if, before any of us went to sit down in a chair, we would ask ourselves, “Is this a chair that Jesus would sit upon today? What is the message that is sent to others in the room if I leave this chair empty?”  The answer might be surprising, for Jesus spent a great deal of his recorded ministry sitting among people whom the religious leaders shunned.  Jesus sat in the synagogue and in the Temple. What is the message of his filling those chairs? But Jesus also sat next to women and men whose activities wagged the tongues of gossipers. What would have been the message had he left empty those seats?

You can send a powerful message from the chairs you choose to fill or leave empty this week. What will the chairs you leave empty tomorrow say about you? What will the chairs you fill next Friday be saying to those around you?  The chairs you are invited to fill will keep talking.  What they will say about your life and your priorities is up to you.

"A Tale of Two Debtors"

Mary couldn’t remember how it happened, but she owed the bank $100,000, more than she could expect to repay in a long, long time. Harry could remember how it happened: he made one bad investment and now he was $10,000 in debt.  What Harry didn’t know was that with interest and penalties he also owed $100,000. What Mary knew, and what Harry didn’t know, was that their bankers were about to foreclose on their homes, and then they both would be penniless and homeless.  Well, Barry the Billionaire was looking for some people to help. He was that kind of guy. His wealth was literally higher than the heavens. Barry spent his time in coffee shops and country clubs, and it was in these places he overheard both Mary’s and Harry’s stories. Barry invited Mary and Harry over to his house through their respective friends. Mary was ashamed to go, but it was a free meal. Harry spent some money he didn’t know he didn’t have and bought a fine suit and shoes and showed up at Barry’s, ready to impress.  After dinner Barry informed Mary and Harry that they were officially debt free. Mary fell on the ground, crying and laughing, and from there, on the dining room floor, she grabbed Barry’s feet and, well, let’s put it this way…Barry’s shoes changed color from her tears.  Barry, bemused by Mary’s foolish behavior, told Barry, “Say, thanks. You know that wasn’t necessary…I only owed $10,000…and I was about to pay it off. But, thanks, bud, and if I can ever do anything for you, let me know. Gotta run.”

Mary was at Barry’s what seemed like every weekend after that. “What can I do for you? Barry, please let me do something!” “No need, Mary,” Barry said. “But I sure do appreciate your coming over to visit every weekend. It’s nice to know that you remember.” “Remember!”, Mary said, “I know I will never be able to forget your saving me from ruin! I just wish I could do something for you.”  “Well, if you insist,” he said, “if you would help your struggling neighbor cover her groceries bill this weekend, I would appreciate it as much as she will. But, don’t feel obligated. Do what makes your heart sing, and that will make me smile!” And that’s just what Mary did. Everyone smiled.

Harry, over time, forgot all about Barry.  He heard about Mary’s old bad habits and Harry was, frankly, upset that Barry included Mary in the same invitation that he had extended to Harry. “What kind of fool would help out someone like her!” Harry never went to see Barry again, although he did think about visiting him sometimes. “But,” he thought, “I really didn’t ask for his help, and I could have covered that little debt.”  As Barry thought about Harry he smiled…or was that the look of a man about to cry?

Shalom,

Graduation Day

We are in the season of graduation events: the ceremonies, the speeches. And don’t forget the parties.  I’ve been listening to parents and grandparents of high school graduates discuss their plans for celebrating this moment.  What seems clear to me is that, just like it was in 1972, the manner of celebration reflects the personality of the graduate and the parents.  In reality, sometimes the parents are much happier that high school is over than is the graduate.  Some graduates dread being the focus of a party, and they dread even more the thought of crossing a stage while a thousand eyes stare at them.  Some graduates love the attention, and believe it is even more well-deserved than it is.  So I got to thinking about these questions: (1) Comparing your life today to the life you imagined on your high school graduation day, is your life about what you had expected or is it different than you then imagined and why did that happen? (2) Knowing what you know today about life after high school, if you could tell a class of graduates one thing about their life to come, what would it be, and why?

Here’s my speech:  Congratulations. You got to first base.  Enjoy the moment.  You are not finished with learning; you have learned how to learn and to start living.  You do not win the game standing on first base.  Start planning on how you will be able to circle the bases. You will need help from your teammates: family and friends. You cannot advance to second without someone’s help.  And plan on getting a new jersey about half-way through. The clothes you wear today probably won’t fit in another 20 years. That’s OK.  Your body doesn’t define who you are. But you will need to be physically fit to get to third base, so don’t hurt your body with too much of anything. And let’s face it, some things just shouldn’t be ingested if you want to keep on living. You will find that running the base paths of life is a lot more fun if you have someone you love running alongside of you. Find someone with whom you want to share the joys and sorrows of the journey home.  Figure out why the Bard wrote that a rose by another name is still as sweet.  Drown in the joy of the choral movement of Beethoven’s 9^th. When you trip, let someone help you up. When you come upon someone who has fallen, be the hands and feet of the One they need. The past was never as bright, nor is the future ever as dark, as you imagine: get a grip. Don’t fret over the goals you miss; celebrate the milestones you reach; when you wander off the path, come back between the lines. You cannot get Home alone.  Persist in your journey. Do not give up. Let the party begin.