Amazing Grace?

Maybe it’s the weather. It’s 75 freaking degrees in December. Maybe it’s my personal business slump. Maybe it’s sitting in the hospital with my Dad since last Thursday. Whatever it is, I just had an epiphany. Here it is: we are all sinners, selfish, mean-spirited, despicable sinners.

I was reading a commentary about the controversy surrounding Susan Rice, her handling of the Benghazi information and her fitness for the job of Secretary of State. After the article there were around 150 comments. I made the dreadful mistake of reading them.

The article itself touched on several different themes, but it’s primary focus was basically Republican criticism of Rice and Democratic accusations of racism being the primary cause of the criticism. The comment section covered these topics but also wandered into the fever swamps of affirmative action, and feminism.

What a bunch of miserable people we have become. Now, I am fully aware that the comment thread of a political website doesn’t exactly qualify as a representative sample of the American population. The very fact that you’re on a political website, let alone that you took the time to write a comment, probably means that you are a partisan outlier. Nevertheless, the level of discourse I found was so hot, so untethered from reality, so bitterly unreasonable. It was like driving by a terrible car wreck. I just couldn’t stop reading, and the more I read, the more I was convinced of the existence of sin.

I read that article with an opinion, that the author managed to validate. I believed his points to be sound and reasonable. But when I read the comments, even those who agreed with mine, I was shocked at the venom, the bitter acrimony, the accusations of treasonous intent. It was as if nobody on either side of this debate could admit the slightest possibility of error, no one could grant anyone from the other side the slimmest presumption of good faith. The debate wasn’t a debate at all, but rather a dogma-slinging contest where the goal seemed to be the humiliation of the enemy.

And then it hit me. A memory flooded into my mind from some long forgotten sermon. There was a bible verse that went something like this…

“For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God…There is no one who is righteous, not even one, no one who understands, no one who searches after God.”

Strange that I would remember that verse when normally I can’t remember where I put my keys. But that truth resonates with me this morning. We are all a bunch of dreadful sinners, blinded by our own conceits. We have all convinced ourselves that the truth we possess renders our enemies idiots, and somehow not fully human. We speak about those with whom we disagree as if they are aliens, creatures from another world, instead of men and women with flesh and blood and beating hearts. If the argument causes us to lose our humanity, what good does it do to win?

Last weekend I saw the Lincoln movie. Nothing in our political fights today can hold a candle to the existential battle going on in 1864. Fevers were high. The debates in Congress were vicious. We were literally killing each other. But, the one thing that struck me about Lincoln was his graciousness towards the conquered. In victory, there would be no gloating, there would be no unquenchable thirst for revenge, no humiliation of Lee or his men at Appomattox. Grace would win the day. Amazing grace.

It made me ask myself, who is demonstrating grace in our politics today? The answer came swift and sure…nobody, including me.

My Dad's In The Hospital

My Dad has been in the hospital for five days now. He has heart palpitations that haven’t responded well to several medications. My brother, two sisters and I have taken turns sitting with him. I have been with him last each night, so I see him after a long day of hospital drudgery. Some nights have been better than others, for him and me.

I arrive around 7:30. He never fails to smile at me as I walk in. He looks tired. I tidy up his covers, get him something to drink and ask him about his day. He tells me that he had a good day. Every day is a good day. He hesitates to provide anything that sounds like a complaint. He speaks glowingly of his nurses. He tells me that he got a visit from Chuck Ward or Mark Becton, and what a blessing they were to him. He tells me about the food and that it isn’t very good, but it’s OK because Linda brought him some homemade soup and Paula snuck in some wonderful cookies.

When he tries to tell me a story he forgets his words, then apologizes for being so forgetful. My heart breaks a little that he feels the need to apologize. We watch Huckabee. He loves that show. Tonight Huckabee isn’t there and there is a pretty blond in his place. Dad informs me that she is Dana Perino, who used to be President George Bush’s press secretary. Dad likes her because she is very smart, and pretty too. He listens intently to a story about very bad parents. He can’t imagine how any father would provide kegs of beer for his sixteen year old son’s birthday party. “What’s this world coming too?” he asks me.

I watch the night nurse come in to give him his medicine. She is perky and smiles a lot. She gently places each pill in his mouth and then gives him ginger ale. There are so many pills. She is very patient, and jokes that she should probably have given him the sleeping pill last since he might fall asleep before he makes it through all his pills. Dad smiles.

After Huckabee is over Dad struggles with the remote and finally asks me just to turn the television off. We sit in silence for a few minutes. Finally he tells me what a good job his kids have done taking care of him since Mom passed away.

We go through our nightly ritual when it’s time for him to go to sleep. I turn out the light and tell him I love him. I pull the curtain and then shut the door to his room. He’s right across from the nurses station and he tells me that they talk too loud. Sometimes he feels like yelling out to ask them to be quiet, but that would be rude. I walk down the long hallway towards the elevator past rooms with open doors. Terribly sick men and women, all of them alone. There’s a portrait of former Governor John Dalton right next to the elevator. Every time I pass it, I become irritated for some reason. Is there no place on earth where we can escape politics?

I arrive at my car in the mostly empty parking lot and sit there in silence for a few minutes. I think about my Dad and marvel at what kind of life he has lived. After losing his wife of 65 years and after five days in a hospital bed, he still finds things to laugh about and still finds people to be thankful for.

“What kind of day did you have Dad?” I ask him.

“A good day, I had a good day,” he answers.

Colin Kaepernick's Tattoos

When I turned on my laptop this morning, the online sports pages were on fire with stories about Colin Kaepernick's tattoos. Who is Colin Kaepernick, you might ask? He's the second year backup QB for the San Fransisco 49ers who recently was placed in the starters roll when Alex Smith suffered a concussion.  The kid has played amazingly well, so the job is now his, along with the scrutiny that comes with it. Part of said scrutiny concerns the prodigious amount of ink he sports. While certainly not rare for professional athletes,( it seems like a requirement to play in the NBA), and not even rare in the NFL, tattoos are rare among Quarterbacks. So now that the new guy is covered with them, it's become a story. Some writer at the Sporting News wrote a column criticizing the guy so it's blown up into a controversy.


   

While reading all of the stories I learned some things about Kaepernick. He's an adopted biracial kid with a 4.0 grade point average, a health nut who neither drinks nor smokes, has never had any problems with the law, and apparently is very religious.

 

The tattoos that everyone sees on his arms on Sunday are of scripture. The large particularly hideous one that covers his back depicts a battle between angels and demons. Colin takes his religious views seriously enough to want them forever immortalized on his body. Ok. So why all the fuss?

 

Here's the deal. I think tattoos for the most part are disgusting. When I see some kid all inked up from neck to ankle I see a series of uncomfortable job interviews in his future.  I think that his youthful exuberance for a popular rapper comes back to haunt him when he's forty trying to explain to his kids what "rap music" was. I think maybe he might regret declaring his eternal devotion to "Nicole" once he meets the woman he actually wants to marry, named "Becky". I could go on like this for hours since the concept of permanently staining the surface of one's skin with a slogan that appeals to the sensibilities of a twenty year old is so self-evidently insane for anyone who plans on living until they are eighty. However....

 

The existence of tattoos on Mr. Kaepernick tells me nothing about his personal character. The accusations made in some of the stories I read about this topic assume that tattoos equal moral depravity, unfitness to lead, dreadful example for kids etc..etc. Well, tattoos depicting rape, drug use, and devotion to Adolph Hitler would indeed equal those things. Colin Kaepernick's tattoos are a road map to Jesus Christ, and the joy of competition as far as I can tell. While I wish he wasn't covered in this way, absolutely nothing about these tattoos disqualify him from leading the 49ers to the Super Bowl. From what I have read about this young man, he will be a fine representative of his team in the San Fransisco community, a community in dire need of God-fearing role models.

 

Give the kid a break. 

 

                 

                                                

What I REALLY Want For Christmas

A couple of weeks ago I published my Christmas List..er,..HOLIDAY LIST in this space. Although partly in jest, it was a legitimate list that was duly published on the now famous Christmas Central website for all interested family members to examine for gift ideas. But, what do I really want for Christmas? If I were King, and could remake the world by fiat, what would that world look like? What follows is what I really, really want for Christmas.

1. I want the “fiscal cliff” to be a real, honest to God cliff. I want television cameras set up to film all of our elected officials plunging to their deaths over that cliff, if they don’t compromise on a deal before January the first, 2013. Then, to replace them all, people will be chosen at random from the white pages of each Congressional district in America. If chosen, you must serve, no matter your profession or education. Accordingly, the next Congress would literally be an accurate representation of the people, as there would be carpenters, electricians, hair-stylists, truck drivers, and assorted cooks, waitresses, and firemen in Congress instead of 450 lawyers and a couple dozen heirs and heiresses.

2. I want to suspend the ageing process in my Dad and my dog. I want their health to be restored to a point that produces in them less humiliation, and in me less despair.

3. I want the church to once again become the patron of the Arts. When last we were, we sponsored some of the finest music ever written for a thousand years. Since we abdicated that patron status and turned it over to the secular world the results have been mixed. While the world did manage to give us Casablanca, the Godfather, Gershwin and the Beatles, more frequently, it gives us Two and A Half Men, Twilight, and 50 Cent.

4. I want every business in America to run as efficiently as my trash man, C.L. Taylor of Glen Allen Va.

5. I want bacon, fried chicken, sausage, and cheese to be altered molecularly so that they become the healthiest foods in the universe.

6. I want the manufacture of lite beer to be criminalized.

7. I want the smartest guys in the high tech field, the most imaginative dudes at NASA along with the money-making machine that is the porn industry to join forces and get to work on making teleportation a realty. It would sure make my life easier once I start having grandkids.

8. I want the most annoying people in America to all be publicly shamed into silence, all at once, in some grand moment of decency where all of America becomes repulsed by the mere sight of:

Kim Kardashian

Harry Reid

Nancy Pelosi

Alec Baldwin

The Ladies Of The View

Eric Cantor

Karl Rove

Glen Beck

Joe Biden

Paris Hilton

Joel Osteen

Pat Robertson

Chris Matthews

Charlie Sheen

Brad Pitt

Angelina Jolie

Sarah Palin

Mayor Bloomberg

Snoop Dogg

Paul Krugman

Jerry Jones

9. I want Tim Tebow to get married, then get traded to the Jacksonville Jaguars. So rejuvenated will he be with the change of scenery and regular sex, he will lead his new team to the Super Bowl and I will get to see every talking head on ESPN apoplectic with rage for three months.

10. I want to hear some preaching in 2013 free of pandering, condescension, and rhyming, and full of fearless, indignant rage. Occasional spittle would be nice.

11. I want to enjoy my profession again.

　

What about you? What would your world look like if you got your wish list fulfilled? It’s fun to contemplate, isn’t it?

I Hope The Proctologist Was Right!

Some weeks are better than others.

This week has been one of the “others”. Suddenly, arbitrarily, bad news washes over you in waves. Just about the time you get your legs steady underneath you, a new wave rolls in nearly as powerful as the first.

First there was the unrelenting dissatisfaction with my business, it’s unpredictability beginning to dominate me in a new way that feels like oppression. Then there was a 6 AM disaster involving my dog and a bathroom accident. Looking back on it, there was much to laugh about and it would have made for a hilarious blog, but right in the middle of the episode, Pam pleaded with me, “PLEASE don’t blog about this!” Then finally early this morning there was news of a possible deterioration of my Dad’s condition. We will tend to that today.

It’s times like these when I need to look past the present and remember better days in the past, and look into the future with confidence, knowing that I am not a prisoner of this moment.

Like the Proctologist said to the man who was in pain because he had accidently swallowed a large marble…”This too shall pass.”

The War On Christmas? Puhhhleeze...

Around this time of year, Facebook becomes inundated with complaints from Christians about how awful it is that Christ has been taken out of Christmas by our decaying culture. The “war on Christmas” fights on many fronts. Here are just a few.

An ACLU chapter somewhere invariably has a manger scene removed from some Courthouse lawn. Christians immediately get their stockings in a knot.

A clerk at Walmart greets a shopper with a “Happy Holidays!” instead of “Merry Christmas.” Christians conclude that the four horses of the apocalypse are about to be unleashed.

Christians nearly drive off the road in fury when they see a flashing portable roadside sign advertising fresh X-MAS trees.

When some news reporter refers to the lighting of “holiday trees”, a flurry of phone calls and letters flood the station manager’s office.

When school systems refer to “holiday parties” instead of “Christmas parties” and greet everyone with a hardy “seasons greetings”, home-schoolers everywhere smile smugly, grateful that their kids don’t have to suffer similar humiliation.

　

Where to begin? To start with, I should say that sometimes, the things I just listed do irritate me. It does seem that people twist themselves in rhetorical knots with the politically correct “offend no one” approach to discourse this time of year. Holiday Tree? Frosty the Snowperson? Seriously? However, it is my opinion that the Christian reaction to all of this is equally irritating, and annoyingly inconsistent.

Where was the Christian community fifty years ago when Madison Avenue hijacked the birthday of Christ? I wonder how many Christians were there at the gates of Best Buys all around the country at the stroke of midnight on Black Friday? Why would we even want the celebration of the birth of our savior to be associated with the most out of control exhibition of greed known to mankind? Would having a clerk at Target say “Merry Christmas” make everything all right?

Christ was removed from Christmas in this country long before the first ACLU lawsuit. Does anyone really believe that anything approaching a majority of the people grabbing Tickle-Me-Elmo’s off the shelves of Toys-R-Us are doing so out of some deep-seated desire to celebrate the birth of Jesus? Why are we as Christians suddenly so thin-skinned that the culture has forgotten the true meaning of Christmas? Does it have anything to do with the fact that maybe we have too?

When Jesus talked about salvation he made it clear that Christians would forever be in the minority. “… For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many will find it, but small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life and few will find it.” So, why are we now so out of sorts to find Christianity and it’s celebrations minimized by our culture?

There is nothing stopping us from greeting all who we encounter with a ”Merry Christmas”. There exists no law preventing us from erecting manger scenes on our front lawns, nothing to stop us from buying our trees from only those merchants who bother to spell out the word Christmas. But if we are busy elbowing people out of the way to get that last smart phone at the Apple store, then we have no standing to criticize the store owner who thinks it might attract more customers if he tries to soft-pedal the baby Jesus thing. He’s busy doing what comes natural to him. What comes natural to us?

My Boycott Is Over. How Did It Go?

Well, my scream news blackout/boycott is over as of yesterday morning. As promised I refrained from watching, reading, or listening to any of the popular news outlets in America for two weeks. My theory was that my overall attitude and sense of well being would improve by swearing off the ranters and screamers of American politics. So, was I right?

First of all, I must confess to having been a bit bored with the “just the facts, please” news outlets. The Associated Press is a dreadfully dull outfit. It’s C-Span without video. Awful. I actually found myself wondering what I was missing. The world seemed eerily quiet, unnaturally free of existential angst. Without hearing Rush Limbaugh or Glen Beck chronicling the coming apocalypse, it was tempting to believe that life had returned to it’s relentless monotony, grinding onward, free of Greek drama, but full of farce. Then I fired up the laptop and began wading through my old friends to discover all that I had missed while away.

“Secession Movement Spurred By Racism”

“Churches Offer Concealed Weapons Training”

“Obama Re-elected By Illiterate Society”

“Opposition To Susan Rice Nomination Is Racist”

“New Vending Machine To Dispense Caviar”

“Three Men Brawl Over Pair Of Sneakers In Middle Of Mall On Black Friday”

“ Teachers Hire Stand-ins To Take Certification Tests”

“Republicans Warn Of Shutdown Over Filibuster”

　

It would appear that there was plenty of drama, I was just blissfully unaware. But, is that a good thing? Doesn’t it behoove me as a citizen to know what’s going on in my country? Shouldn’t I be able to talk intelligently about whether or not the secession movement is, in fact, racist? Does the appearance of lots of bumper stickers in Texas and the existence of several petitions with 10,000 names scribbled on them qualify as a “movement”? My church doesn’t offer weapons training of any kind. Should this concern me? Have we totally missed some clear teaching of scripture on this subject? And what about these fake teachers taking tests for real teachers? Are the stand-ins Union members? If not, why not?

The fact is that although my attitudes have improved these past two weeks, I have felt constantly out of the loop, off the grid. I have been greatly disturbed to realize how much I enjoy my sources of propaganda. My daily helping of hyperbole, fear mongering and invective have been sorely missed. Denying myself exposure to it has taken away my sense of superiority. I am not able to hover above all the pettiness and drivel if I don’t know what the drivel-ers are saying.

So, I suppose I will return to my daily routine of pointing and laughing at the merchants of misinformation, all the while bemoaning the fact that too many Americans are doing what I’m doing.