Halt! ..... Put your hands to your sides! ..... Step away from the calendar! ..... Take a deeeeeeeep breath!
OK - How many of you figured that everything Rita would be over and done with by now? Don't be shy. Go ahead! Raise your hand. Yep! That's what I figured. Did you notice my hand was up too?
Here we are headed into a new hurricane season, and we've not finished cleaning up the old one yet. I don't know about you, but that wasn't what I had planned for this year. And with the news coverage and weathercasters tossing around not-so-encouraging numbers, I've noticed a bit of a tension and edge in the air. Have you?
Guess what .... what we're experiencing is normal. NORMAL?!, you say? Well, normal for the experience we find ourselves in at any rate. I've been reading Dr. Harold G. Koenig's book, "In the Wake of Disaster", which looks at the religious response to catastrophes of various natures. One of the things he details are the various phases of the recovery process, and the book came out late enough that it incorporates the Katrina experience into its research.
Mind you, I'm doing some semi-educated guessing here, but I'd say that we're kind of in limbo between two phases: the Short Term Aftermath Phase and the Long Term Aftermath Phase. According to Koenig, in the short term phase, people "begin to recognize the implications of the disaster event and their need for support." It's a time for people to begin "working through their losses and assign meaning to the event." Which is to say that we are beyond the shock of the initial experience and are beginning to process the depth of the changes which have occurred in our lives and the lives around us.
Operating from ignorance here, I figured this would last about 6-8 months and we'd be percolating along in something resembling the usual state of normal in our lives. WRONG! Here I was getting upset with myself for still feeling 'stuck', anxious, having trouble sleeping. It was a great relief to know that what I'm experiencing is not unusual. Anyone else feeling kind of 'let down' because people haven't magically managed to pull everything completely back together? That's part of the long term phase.
I hadn't realized just how long it would take to get things back together, and I suspect for those of us still working on returning our living and work spaces to useable space again the process will take even longer. Koenig says that the long term phase hits during six-twelve months after the event, and that for some people it may take years to completely integrate the changes. WHEW! And here I thought I was just being weird!!
Where's the Good News in all of this? First and foremost, God has not left us alone. Christ himself has promised to be with us always through the Spirit of the Comforter (Advocate, Counselor, depends on the translation, all are wonderful to have around!). We have Someone in our corner who understands what we are going through and sends us what we need at the right time. (Thanks, Ron, for the book!)
Second, we have each other to lean on for support. Now here's where you have to occasionally poke me and remind me that I don't have to do it all by myself! And, if you have to do it for me, I'm willing to do it for you! This is not a quick-fix situation, so we do need to continue to care for ourselves, for each other, and for those Christ places in our path.
And, third, let's not forget that God has provided those with gifts for counseling, home repair, detail managing, and all manner of special needs to help us reassemble the pieces which are still apart. There is no shame in seeking assistance and allowing them to offer their special gifts and talents to us. It's hard to be on the receiving end. That darned independent Protestant work ethic could keep us from having an incredible opportunity for our faith or someone else's to grow.
So - as we head once more into hurricane season, I leave you with these words from Jesus: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. (John 14:27, NSRV)
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Twenty-three Years Ago
Twenty-three years ago in a hospital not too far from here, my son was born. It's hard to believe that so much time has passed, for it seems like only yesterday (although there's no squalling 'short person' in the house to make that seem true). But it's true. He's 23 years old today, and a fine young man, at that.
In about six months, he'll be graduating from college with a degree in political science and a minor in music. After that, he's headed on to learn more about what he really loves - trombone. Took him a while to figure that out, but I believe he made the right choice. You should see his face when he plays or talks about music! It glows! That's the way one should be about one's life-work. When you find your gift, and use it, it should bring joy to your heart that everyone can see. I'm glad he didn't have to bumble around for too long before he found his true self.
It feels really weird to realize that I'm in almost the same place where he was born now. When I left here twenty-two years ago, I planned to never come back this way. In fact, I did not step foot in the town until almost twenty years later, and even then, came mostly out of curiosity. I really had no intention of staying. But here I am! And, for the moment, this is where my joy lies. I love what I'm doing and the people I'm working with!
I am not the person I was twenty-three years ago, and that's a good thing. Part of the reason I found the courage to grow was the young man who came into my life twenty-three years ago today. I could not stay where I was (emotionally or physically) and keep him safe. Now, I believe, we are both the better for it; although, we each carry scars from the past.
You know, some might say I've come full circle by returning to this place. I'd much rather say I'm in an upward spiral, traveling past a familiar location, but in a much stronger position.
Twenty-three years ago today, something truly wonderful happened. My son was born. *smile* Yep! I think I'm going to savor twenty-three years' worth of memories today! I'll try not to embarass you, son!
In about six months, he'll be graduating from college with a degree in political science and a minor in music. After that, he's headed on to learn more about what he really loves - trombone. Took him a while to figure that out, but I believe he made the right choice. You should see his face when he plays or talks about music! It glows! That's the way one should be about one's life-work. When you find your gift, and use it, it should bring joy to your heart that everyone can see. I'm glad he didn't have to bumble around for too long before he found his true self.
It feels really weird to realize that I'm in almost the same place where he was born now. When I left here twenty-two years ago, I planned to never come back this way. In fact, I did not step foot in the town until almost twenty years later, and even then, came mostly out of curiosity. I really had no intention of staying. But here I am! And, for the moment, this is where my joy lies. I love what I'm doing and the people I'm working with!
I am not the person I was twenty-three years ago, and that's a good thing. Part of the reason I found the courage to grow was the young man who came into my life twenty-three years ago today. I could not stay where I was (emotionally or physically) and keep him safe. Now, I believe, we are both the better for it; although, we each carry scars from the past.
You know, some might say I've come full circle by returning to this place. I'd much rather say I'm in an upward spiral, traveling past a familiar location, but in a much stronger position.
Twenty-three years ago today, something truly wonderful happened. My son was born. *smile* Yep! I think I'm going to savor twenty-three years' worth of memories today! I'll try not to embarass you, son!
Friday, May 26, 2006
Excuse Me
"If somebody of (Ken Lay's) stature is assulted in any way, that's going to be really bad PR for the United States government." Kent Schaffer, Houston defense lawyer
Excuse me! "Somebody of Ken Lay's stature'?! Oh, the hackles on the back of my neck just went ballistic!
It should be really bad PR if ANY person in prison is assaulted, not just those who happen to have (through accident of birth, election to public office, or financial good fortune - or manipulation, as the case may be) attained an upper level social standing. It completely irks me when people seem to think it's ok that someone whose only privilege in life may have been a roof over their head somehow 'deserves' worse treatment than someone who has lived in the lap of luxury.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not advocating that anyone be subjected to assault in prison. However, if an assault on a Ken Lay or other highly placed prisoner is worthy of national shame, it should also be true if an assault on an otherwise non-visible prisoner occurs. Both were convicted of committing a crime. Both should be incarcerated in settings which meet our need for justice and rehabilitation, while keeping each equally free from harm. I realize that this may be a difficult to attain goal, humanity being what it is; however, it should be what we strive for.
Excuse me! "Somebody of Ken Lay's stature'?! Oh, the hackles on the back of my neck just went ballistic!
It should be really bad PR if ANY person in prison is assaulted, not just those who happen to have (through accident of birth, election to public office, or financial good fortune - or manipulation, as the case may be) attained an upper level social standing. It completely irks me when people seem to think it's ok that someone whose only privilege in life may have been a roof over their head somehow 'deserves' worse treatment than someone who has lived in the lap of luxury.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not advocating that anyone be subjected to assault in prison. However, if an assault on a Ken Lay or other highly placed prisoner is worthy of national shame, it should also be true if an assault on an otherwise non-visible prisoner occurs. Both were convicted of committing a crime. Both should be incarcerated in settings which meet our need for justice and rehabilitation, while keeping each equally free from harm. I realize that this may be a difficult to attain goal, humanity being what it is; however, it should be what we strive for.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Open Mouth, Insert Foot ......
All I need is one more thing to do! So what did I do today? Opened my mouth at the SouthEast Texas Interfaith Organization for Disaster Recovery (SETIO) meeting and said, "We're an interfaith group and we've not once as a community of faith gathered in worship since the storm. Another hurricane season is upon us. We need to worship together." Guess who's now on the planning committee for a community worship service. ......... That's right. Me!
I've gotta stop doing stuff like that! *chuckle* I'm going to get in trouble one of these days!
Thing is, I love planning worship services. You can sucker me with a worship service almost any time. There's something compelling about the symbols and ritual and music which resonates deep within me. With interfaith worship, I love the opportunity to explore cultures beyond my own familiar Presbyterian one.
One year in Idabel, our annual community Thanksgiving service was held at one of the African-American churches. Instead of the plate being passed row by row, the culture of that community was to come forward and bring your offering to the table. It was absolutely the best offering the Ministerial Association had received since I'd gotten there. Even the 'big steeple' churches weren't able to compete with what we collected that year! Our worship together was sprinkled with a diversity of music, prayer styles, and Amens tossed about whenever the Spirit moved. Certainly nothing like the usual worship of the 'frozen chosen'.
One of the things I've always regretted is that we were never able to get any of the local Native American congregations involved in our community worship services. I'm sure we would have been deeply enriched by the gifts they would have brought.
There's a wealth of culture for us to draw from for a community worship service here in the Golden Triangle, too, and not all of it from a Christian perspective. I'm hoping we can draw from each of the faithgroups here. Something which we neglected after Rita came in and roughed us up was the communal spiritual need for healing.
Oh! Our individual congregations most likely did a fine job of working within our memberships, and maybe even touched a few lives outside of the 'usual suspects'. There are so many people who do not have a congregational home! Yet, the storm touched us in ways that may not be addressable through the act of putting one's home back together, or by seeking mental health assistance. Both of those are needed! No doubt about that at all! And I wouldn't for a minute suggest that either should be ignored.
But so are opportunities for us to gather together and recognize the blessings we have received as we've picked up the pieces of our lives. There also seems to be a definitive anxiety that's touching the lives of many as we look to the months ahead and see the specter of another hurricane season facing us. Gathering together for comfort, companionship, consolation, and to share concerns may help us in the days ahead.
So, guess what I did today........... I opened my big mouth ......... and reminded us of whom and whose we are and suggested that maybe we shouldn't keep silent any longer. It's time for us to pray together, and sing together, and cross beyond the boundaries that keep us apart even today to worship together. *shakes head* Oh, what have I gotten myself into!
I've gotta stop doing stuff like that! *chuckle* I'm going to get in trouble one of these days!
Thing is, I love planning worship services. You can sucker me with a worship service almost any time. There's something compelling about the symbols and ritual and music which resonates deep within me. With interfaith worship, I love the opportunity to explore cultures beyond my own familiar Presbyterian one.
One year in Idabel, our annual community Thanksgiving service was held at one of the African-American churches. Instead of the plate being passed row by row, the culture of that community was to come forward and bring your offering to the table. It was absolutely the best offering the Ministerial Association had received since I'd gotten there. Even the 'big steeple' churches weren't able to compete with what we collected that year! Our worship together was sprinkled with a diversity of music, prayer styles, and Amens tossed about whenever the Spirit moved. Certainly nothing like the usual worship of the 'frozen chosen'.
One of the things I've always regretted is that we were never able to get any of the local Native American congregations involved in our community worship services. I'm sure we would have been deeply enriched by the gifts they would have brought.
There's a wealth of culture for us to draw from for a community worship service here in the Golden Triangle, too, and not all of it from a Christian perspective. I'm hoping we can draw from each of the faithgroups here. Something which we neglected after Rita came in and roughed us up was the communal spiritual need for healing.
Oh! Our individual congregations most likely did a fine job of working within our memberships, and maybe even touched a few lives outside of the 'usual suspects'. There are so many people who do not have a congregational home! Yet, the storm touched us in ways that may not be addressable through the act of putting one's home back together, or by seeking mental health assistance. Both of those are needed! No doubt about that at all! And I wouldn't for a minute suggest that either should be ignored.
But so are opportunities for us to gather together and recognize the blessings we have received as we've picked up the pieces of our lives. There also seems to be a definitive anxiety that's touching the lives of many as we look to the months ahead and see the specter of another hurricane season facing us. Gathering together for comfort, companionship, consolation, and to share concerns may help us in the days ahead.
So, guess what I did today........... I opened my big mouth ......... and reminded us of whom and whose we are and suggested that maybe we shouldn't keep silent any longer. It's time for us to pray together, and sing together, and cross beyond the boundaries that keep us apart even today to worship together. *shakes head* Oh, what have I gotten myself into!
Monday, May 22, 2006
Graduation
Graduation. It's that time of year! My niece graduated from high school this past weekend and is, hopefully, headed to the US Coast Guard Academy. I have three youth graduating from high school this coming week. My son, who originally planned to graduate this spring, is now on hold until December. (Why can't parents somehow download into their children's brains the vagaries of academic advisors and how to avoid 'mis-advisement'? Guess we each have to learn the hard way!)
Of course, the traditional speech which goes along with graduation almost invariably includes "it's an ending, it's a beginning". At a seminary graduation I attended, the seminary president noted that graduation was a 'little escaton', a small ending as opposed to The Escaton, the starting of the End Times. That's true, but there seems to be something missing from both assessments. I've been through four graduations of my own, and one with my son, and have only now made the connection that graduation is not only an ending. It's a completion.
There is a distinction. Endings may happen whether planned or not, whether anything has been accomplished or not. For those who walk the boards of graduation, who earn the right to toss their pointed mortarboards in the air, it has taken at least a certain level of work to meet the requirements of diploma or degree. Thus one has completion! Accomplishment! TADA!!
The ceremony is usually followed by a headlong rush into the next thing, into beginnings. I'd like to suggest that one take a few hours, days, weeks and hold onto that sense of completion. There's something quite satisfying about reaching a goal after a long period of time. I wish I'd taken the time to enjoy reaching my goals!
Of course, the traditional speech which goes along with graduation almost invariably includes "it's an ending, it's a beginning". At a seminary graduation I attended, the seminary president noted that graduation was a 'little escaton', a small ending as opposed to The Escaton, the starting of the End Times. That's true, but there seems to be something missing from both assessments. I've been through four graduations of my own, and one with my son, and have only now made the connection that graduation is not only an ending. It's a completion.
There is a distinction. Endings may happen whether planned or not, whether anything has been accomplished or not. For those who walk the boards of graduation, who earn the right to toss their pointed mortarboards in the air, it has taken at least a certain level of work to meet the requirements of diploma or degree. Thus one has completion! Accomplishment! TADA!!
The ceremony is usually followed by a headlong rush into the next thing, into beginnings. I'd like to suggest that one take a few hours, days, weeks and hold onto that sense of completion. There's something quite satisfying about reaching a goal after a long period of time. I wish I'd taken the time to enjoy reaching my goals!
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
The Code's A-Coming
Anyone planning to see The DaVinci Code this weekend? Raise your hands! hmmm ..... one...two... three ... many. OK! You can put your hands back down. Good! That gives me a group of people to talk to. *smile*
Actually, I'm not sure when I'm going to get to see it. This weekend is already cram-packed with a quick trip to the Dallas area for a meeting and my niece's graduation, followed by a mad dash back to Beaumont to get ready for our congregation's grand finale to our 125th Anniversary celebration on Sunday. Whew!
But I am planning to see it as soon as I'm able. It's hard to judge a book by its cover (especially since it's a movie!), and I haven't read the original, so I'm only operating on second-hand info. It is a work of fiction, and has never purported to be anything other than fiction. Why do people get so bent out of shape over fiction? Fiction authors are permitted flights of fancy, otherwise reading would be a really boring thing to do, and the movie wouldn't be worth going to at all.
Why is it the assumption that by reading the book or watching the movie one would automatically ditch everything one believes in to follow a work of fiction? I'll have to admit that I like the idea that Jesus was married. Brown isn't the first person to posit that, though. In the New Testament culture, I would expect it to be normal for a Jewish man to be married before his thirties, and we really don't know much about Jesus' life from his encounter with the leaders in the temple at age 12 until he began his ministry around the age of 30. Plenty of time to get married! It kind of bugs me when people say that Jesus experienced all of human existence, yet get boggled at the thought that he might have actually married and enjoyed a normal sex life. Isn't sexuality a part of the human experience? *shakes head*
Yes, according to what I've heard, there are other things in the book/movie that run counter to my beliefs. I'm not planning to let them trash everything I believe. Faith operates from a different place. According to the apostle Paul in Hebrews, "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen"(NRSV), so why would I let a fiction author convince me that I should give up my faith? Ain't a-gonna happen!
I am planning to suspend belief for a couple of hours and enjoy a bit of fun at a movie, however. Happy viewing!
Actually, I'm not sure when I'm going to get to see it. This weekend is already cram-packed with a quick trip to the Dallas area for a meeting and my niece's graduation, followed by a mad dash back to Beaumont to get ready for our congregation's grand finale to our 125th Anniversary celebration on Sunday. Whew!
But I am planning to see it as soon as I'm able. It's hard to judge a book by its cover (especially since it's a movie!), and I haven't read the original, so I'm only operating on second-hand info. It is a work of fiction, and has never purported to be anything other than fiction. Why do people get so bent out of shape over fiction? Fiction authors are permitted flights of fancy, otherwise reading would be a really boring thing to do, and the movie wouldn't be worth going to at all.
Why is it the assumption that by reading the book or watching the movie one would automatically ditch everything one believes in to follow a work of fiction? I'll have to admit that I like the idea that Jesus was married. Brown isn't the first person to posit that, though. In the New Testament culture, I would expect it to be normal for a Jewish man to be married before his thirties, and we really don't know much about Jesus' life from his encounter with the leaders in the temple at age 12 until he began his ministry around the age of 30. Plenty of time to get married! It kind of bugs me when people say that Jesus experienced all of human existence, yet get boggled at the thought that he might have actually married and enjoyed a normal sex life. Isn't sexuality a part of the human experience? *shakes head*
Yes, according to what I've heard, there are other things in the book/movie that run counter to my beliefs. I'm not planning to let them trash everything I believe. Faith operates from a different place. According to the apostle Paul in Hebrews, "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen"(NRSV), so why would I let a fiction author convince me that I should give up my faith? Ain't a-gonna happen!
I am planning to suspend belief for a couple of hours and enjoy a bit of fun at a movie, however. Happy viewing!
Monday, May 15, 2006
In Celebration of Mothers
Since being ordained as a pastor, Mother's Day has been a bit of a weird day for me. Before I was in my first church, Mother's Day was fairly simple: buy Mom a sappy card and maybe flowers; wait and see what my son brought home from school (if he remembered to bring it home) or, when he got older, remind son to get sappy card; a nice lunch at a restaurant; and, of course, a phone call to Mom (hopefully before she managed to call me). In general, it was just another day with a flourish or two.
However, when I became a pastor, the dynamics of Mother's Day changed. Oh, the family stuff didn't change - except that now I'm in the position of hoping that my son remembers it's Mother's Day and calls from college. Now it's not just a special day for a relatively healthy (but certainly not perfect) family, such as my own. The people in the congregations I've served have had various experiences of Mothers.
There are some for whom "Mom" is a hellacious memory, not someone to honor with a sappy card or gift. Others are mourning the loss of their own mothers, while still others desperately want a child of their own and are unable to conceive. There are those who struggle with families devasted by abuse, or alcoholism or drug abuse, or mental illness, or any of the other dysfuctional experiences that can happen to a family. How do you balance the various needs for a loving Mother-God for a child/adult of a deprived family with the celebrations of those who have experienced the love and support of a healthy Mom?
There's also this part of me which wrestles with how we go all out to celebrate the moms/surrogate-moms in our lives, yet we kind of sluff past our celebration of dads on Father's Day. Shoot! Mother's Day happens in the very midst of busy lives - just about the time the insanity of 'end of school' and graduations pops up. Most Oklahoma school graduations happen on either the Saturday of Mother's Day weekend or Mother's Day itself. Father's Day gets pushed to the summer at a time when people have skittered off on vacations. In some of the churches I've served, until I brought it up, there was no real acknowledgement of our dads/surrogate-dads in worship. *sigh*
And yet, God is the mother hen who scoops us under her wings and holds us close, or the mother who encourages her child to learn to walk, who gives birth to her children in all of creation, who comforts her children, who stands up and protects them when danger comes their way. Sometimes it's difficult to put aside our human experiences of mother and seek the loving caress of a God who wants to live in family relationship with us. The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus was for the reconciliation of humanity to our Mother-Father God.
You know? That's a family that I want to experience in all of its fullness - and I don't need to find a sappy card or buy flowers to do it. Thanks, Mom!
However, when I became a pastor, the dynamics of Mother's Day changed. Oh, the family stuff didn't change - except that now I'm in the position of hoping that my son remembers it's Mother's Day and calls from college. Now it's not just a special day for a relatively healthy (but certainly not perfect) family, such as my own. The people in the congregations I've served have had various experiences of Mothers.
There are some for whom "Mom" is a hellacious memory, not someone to honor with a sappy card or gift. Others are mourning the loss of their own mothers, while still others desperately want a child of their own and are unable to conceive. There are those who struggle with families devasted by abuse, or alcoholism or drug abuse, or mental illness, or any of the other dysfuctional experiences that can happen to a family. How do you balance the various needs for a loving Mother-God for a child/adult of a deprived family with the celebrations of those who have experienced the love and support of a healthy Mom?
There's also this part of me which wrestles with how we go all out to celebrate the moms/surrogate-moms in our lives, yet we kind of sluff past our celebration of dads on Father's Day. Shoot! Mother's Day happens in the very midst of busy lives - just about the time the insanity of 'end of school' and graduations pops up. Most Oklahoma school graduations happen on either the Saturday of Mother's Day weekend or Mother's Day itself. Father's Day gets pushed to the summer at a time when people have skittered off on vacations. In some of the churches I've served, until I brought it up, there was no real acknowledgement of our dads/surrogate-dads in worship. *sigh*
And yet, God is the mother hen who scoops us under her wings and holds us close, or the mother who encourages her child to learn to walk, who gives birth to her children in all of creation, who comforts her children, who stands up and protects them when danger comes their way. Sometimes it's difficult to put aside our human experiences of mother and seek the loving caress of a God who wants to live in family relationship with us. The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus was for the reconciliation of humanity to our Mother-Father God.
You know? That's a family that I want to experience in all of its fullness - and I don't need to find a sappy card or buy flowers to do it. Thanks, Mom!
Friday, May 12, 2006
Dad Was Wrong
As I was growing up, I vividly recall my dad stating that "if you really want help on something, see a banker". Apparently, there was some situation where he (or a friend) had gone to a variety of people for some assistance, but the only person who was willing to tackle the problem was a banker.
Dad was wrong.
Somewhere between that day and now, banking has taken a turn for the worse. If you happen to be the least bit nonconventional (for even the most rational of reasons) and don't have a bank account or credit card, you're just plain out of luck! An acquaintance of mine does a variety of jobs on a contract basis and, when she gets paid by check, takes it directly to the bank the funds will be drawn on and cashes it. Or at least she did up until the last couple of weeks.
Now the banks are requiring more than just her driver's license and Social Security card. In order to cash the check, she must have a major credit card or passport. Local credit cards and an employee id badge are second level, but would be accepted in a pinch. Prob - lem! No bank account, so no credit cards. Passports cost way too much money for someone who will probably never leave the United States, and couldn't afford it even if she might. And the employee id? Well, it's hard to get one when the place you work doesn't even have them.
It is absolutely OUTRAGEOUS to require upstanding citizens to go through such hoops. Yes, I do understand that there are people out there who would run a scam in a New York minute. However, there must be a way to find a balance between institutional security and meeting the legitimate needs of those who walk through their doors. There are people truly in need who simply want a legitimate check cashed so they can pay their bills and live their lives.
It's a shame that an institution which at one time had a reputation for being a positive community force has become hide-bound and restrictive to the point of making it even more difficult for those who are not in the mainstream of society. What do we need to do to encourage them to change back for the better?
Dad was wrong.
Somewhere between that day and now, banking has taken a turn for the worse. If you happen to be the least bit nonconventional (for even the most rational of reasons) and don't have a bank account or credit card, you're just plain out of luck! An acquaintance of mine does a variety of jobs on a contract basis and, when she gets paid by check, takes it directly to the bank the funds will be drawn on and cashes it. Or at least she did up until the last couple of weeks.
Now the banks are requiring more than just her driver's license and Social Security card. In order to cash the check, she must have a major credit card or passport. Local credit cards and an employee id badge are second level, but would be accepted in a pinch. Prob - lem! No bank account, so no credit cards. Passports cost way too much money for someone who will probably never leave the United States, and couldn't afford it even if she might. And the employee id? Well, it's hard to get one when the place you work doesn't even have them.
It is absolutely OUTRAGEOUS to require upstanding citizens to go through such hoops. Yes, I do understand that there are people out there who would run a scam in a New York minute. However, there must be a way to find a balance between institutional security and meeting the legitimate needs of those who walk through their doors. There are people truly in need who simply want a legitimate check cashed so they can pay their bills and live their lives.
It's a shame that an institution which at one time had a reputation for being a positive community force has become hide-bound and restrictive to the point of making it even more difficult for those who are not in the mainstream of society. What do we need to do to encourage them to change back for the better?
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
llama! llama!
It's official. It's gotten waaaaaaaaaay to serious around here lately. Don't get me wrong. There's a lot of serious going around in the world today. However, I just noticed that this blog was getting almost too heavy to lift. And we all need a bit of levity now and then. Why else do you think we toss Holy Hilarity Sunday into the mix from time to time?
Sooooooooo.....listen up everyone! I hereby decree that the new code for "let's get ridiculous" is "llama llama".
You'll just have to see it for yourself at www.albinoblacksheep.com . Look for The Llama Song.
It takes an eternity to load at home, since I'm currently stuck with dialup. pflbt!
(blast - I was going to find a pic of a llama to put here, but have run into technical difficulties. Probably more of an operator difficulty than a computer one. oh, well!)
........ waiting ........ waiting ....... waiting (well, you get the picture! or maybe not since it just plain takes too long to download *teehee*)
Gee! That sounds like my life-theme at the moment! ...... waiting ........ waiting ...... waiting
*chuckle*
Anyway!
llama! llama! .....
DUCK!
As Father Mulcahy would say - "Jocularity! Jocularity!"
Sooooooooo.....listen up everyone! I hereby decree that the new code for "let's get ridiculous" is "llama llama".
You'll just have to see it for yourself at www.albinoblacksheep.com . Look for The Llama Song.
It takes an eternity to load at home, since I'm currently stuck with dialup. pflbt!
(blast - I was going to find a pic of a llama to put here, but have run into technical difficulties. Probably more of an operator difficulty than a computer one. oh, well!)
........ waiting ........ waiting ....... waiting (well, you get the picture! or maybe not since it just plain takes too long to download *teehee*)
Gee! That sounds like my life-theme at the moment! ...... waiting ........ waiting ...... waiting
*chuckle*
Anyway!
llama! llama! .....
DUCK!
As Father Mulcahy would say - "Jocularity! Jocularity!"
Monday, May 08, 2006
Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra
I just watched one of my favorite Star Trek:TNG episodes: Darmok. I will have to admit, the impact is blunted somewhat by knowing what's going to happen before it happens. However, I'm still drawn in by the storyline: how do we communicate?
Of course, the logic of all aliens in the Star Trek universe speaking fairly comprehensible English makes it even more compelling. (Yes - I realize that the universal translator is what provides the vehicle, or we'd spend all sorts of time reading subtitles.) But we're caught in a situation where all the words make some sort of sense - Proper names are obviously proper names, and they're joined by prepositions and adjectives that seem to mean something, but we're missing the context. Thus, impasse!
And we're caught learning a new language in spite of ourselves. Language immersion in its truest sense. There is a certain arrogance in believing that everyone should learn our language, while we refuse to learn theirs. I wonder how we keep people at a distance by speaking in cultural tongues that they don't speak fluently, if at all.
Does the language of Robert's Rules of Order keep those who make decisions in the tongue of talking circles from participating in the leadership of our political, religious, economic, social milieus? Do we isolate ourselves by refusing to speak the languages of generations other than our own? It strikes me that society is currently having the most difficulty with those who speak in the tones of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, whose root metaphors come from the same initial document. Amazing isn't it?
Picard was finally able to break through the language barrier as he learned of their commonalities in the midst of shared hazards. The chill of the evening and lack of shelter gave an opportunity to learn something of dealing with the language of needs. The 'electrical entity' gave them a shared difficulty to overcome. It is truly unfortunate that one of the participants had to die to finally get the message across. We do that all too often to each other.
Picard may have ultimately had the right idea. Maybe we need to spend some time immersing ourselves in the root myths we hold in common to remind each other that we truly aren't that different from each other. Perhaps it's time for each of us to have a "Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra" experience and, thus, encourage understanding and peace. Brand me an idealist, but I hope we find a way to make it happen soon!
Of course, the logic of all aliens in the Star Trek universe speaking fairly comprehensible English makes it even more compelling. (Yes - I realize that the universal translator is what provides the vehicle, or we'd spend all sorts of time reading subtitles.) But we're caught in a situation where all the words make some sort of sense - Proper names are obviously proper names, and they're joined by prepositions and adjectives that seem to mean something, but we're missing the context. Thus, impasse!
And we're caught learning a new language in spite of ourselves. Language immersion in its truest sense. There is a certain arrogance in believing that everyone should learn our language, while we refuse to learn theirs. I wonder how we keep people at a distance by speaking in cultural tongues that they don't speak fluently, if at all.
Does the language of Robert's Rules of Order keep those who make decisions in the tongue of talking circles from participating in the leadership of our political, religious, economic, social milieus? Do we isolate ourselves by refusing to speak the languages of generations other than our own? It strikes me that society is currently having the most difficulty with those who speak in the tones of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, whose root metaphors come from the same initial document. Amazing isn't it?
Picard was finally able to break through the language barrier as he learned of their commonalities in the midst of shared hazards. The chill of the evening and lack of shelter gave an opportunity to learn something of dealing with the language of needs. The 'electrical entity' gave them a shared difficulty to overcome. It is truly unfortunate that one of the participants had to die to finally get the message across. We do that all too often to each other.
Picard may have ultimately had the right idea. Maybe we need to spend some time immersing ourselves in the root myths we hold in common to remind each other that we truly aren't that different from each other. Perhaps it's time for each of us to have a "Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra" experience and, thus, encourage understanding and peace. Brand me an idealist, but I hope we find a way to make it happen soon!
Sunday, May 07, 2006
The Ambivalence Zone
Like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, I really wrestle with how one's faith informs one's stance on things like the death penalty and war. Bonhoeffer started with the position that the harming or taking of another life is completely not an option for the devout Christian, and then ultimately was executed by the Nazi government for participating in a failed assasination attempt on Hitler. Read his books "Life Together" (of his days in an underground Christian seminary) and "Letters and Papers from Prison" (smuggled out by a friend while he was awaiting his execution). His journey from one position to the other speaks to the dilemma as it evolves throughout his life and experiences. Truth to tell, I'm not sure what I would have done in his shoes.
This week, Zacarias Moussaoui was sentenced to life in prison without possibility of parole and sent to the Supermax facility in Colorado. There's no way I'm comparing him to Bonhoeffer! Just so you know that up front! However, he's the focal point for my contemplations at the moment.
In some respects, I've been out of touch with the "real" world for the past few days while at a meeting discussing such real-world experiences as discrimination, 'white privilege' (I intensely dislike that term - maybe it hits too close to home *sigh*), giving voice to the voiceless within our denomination, working to ensure that our leadership reflects our membership in all its variations (clergy/lay, male/female, racial-ethnic background, age, geographic area, etc.) So, today I've been catching up on several days' worth of newspapers.
In Thursday's paper I read the headline giving the sentence to Moussaoui, and wandered into the ambivalence zone. I hadn't read what was given by the jury as their rationale yet, so only had my assumptions to go on. The WWJD mantra (I know - how cliche!) popped into my head and said that this was the Christian thing to do, and yes, it's really most likely the way Jesus would have handled the situation. Look at how he treated those who crucified him! Yet I thought of those families who had lost everything to people such as Moussaoui and might feel something resembling relief at his death, and travelled a few steps in their direction. Then I began to say to myself, "Those jurors outfoxed him! He wanted death and martyrdom and what he got instead was life and, hopefully, only a footnote in the histories of the events of 9/11. They saw through his plea for the death sentence."
Then I read what was given of their reasoning ..... and thought "how lame!" Sorry - one probably shouldn't call the experience of an abusive and hateful upbringing a lame rationale for passing over the death penalty. Yet I think I would have preferred that the jurors have the courage of conviction to say, "We aren't going to execute you because we do not want to turn you into a martyr." But then, by blaming Moussaoui's actions on his past rather than on his religious fanaticism, the jurors have blunted the potential 'live martyrdom' of Moussaoui's incarceration.
Even so, I'm conflicted. How does one live out one's Christianity faithfully when faced with such dilemmas as the appropriate punishment for the taking of lives, and boldly stated intent to keep on taking lives whenever possible? Guess I'll just have to get used to living in the ambivalence zone on this one.
This week, Zacarias Moussaoui was sentenced to life in prison without possibility of parole and sent to the Supermax facility in Colorado. There's no way I'm comparing him to Bonhoeffer! Just so you know that up front! However, he's the focal point for my contemplations at the moment.
In some respects, I've been out of touch with the "real" world for the past few days while at a meeting discussing such real-world experiences as discrimination, 'white privilege' (I intensely dislike that term - maybe it hits too close to home *sigh*), giving voice to the voiceless within our denomination, working to ensure that our leadership reflects our membership in all its variations (clergy/lay, male/female, racial-ethnic background, age, geographic area, etc.) So, today I've been catching up on several days' worth of newspapers.
In Thursday's paper I read the headline giving the sentence to Moussaoui, and wandered into the ambivalence zone. I hadn't read what was given by the jury as their rationale yet, so only had my assumptions to go on. The WWJD mantra (I know - how cliche!) popped into my head and said that this was the Christian thing to do, and yes, it's really most likely the way Jesus would have handled the situation. Look at how he treated those who crucified him! Yet I thought of those families who had lost everything to people such as Moussaoui and might feel something resembling relief at his death, and travelled a few steps in their direction. Then I began to say to myself, "Those jurors outfoxed him! He wanted death and martyrdom and what he got instead was life and, hopefully, only a footnote in the histories of the events of 9/11. They saw through his plea for the death sentence."
Then I read what was given of their reasoning ..... and thought "how lame!" Sorry - one probably shouldn't call the experience of an abusive and hateful upbringing a lame rationale for passing over the death penalty. Yet I think I would have preferred that the jurors have the courage of conviction to say, "We aren't going to execute you because we do not want to turn you into a martyr." But then, by blaming Moussaoui's actions on his past rather than on his religious fanaticism, the jurors have blunted the potential 'live martyrdom' of Moussaoui's incarceration.
Even so, I'm conflicted. How does one live out one's Christianity faithfully when faced with such dilemmas as the appropriate punishment for the taking of lives, and boldly stated intent to keep on taking lives whenever possible? Guess I'll just have to get used to living in the ambivalence zone on this one.
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