Enjoying the Simple things

Today is the last day before Easter Holiday...and I am all too ready for the rest I anticipate over the next few days.

Over the coming week, I intend to walk my dog, play with Aiden, talk with Sheri, hike to some waterfalls, catch-up with friends, read some books, blog some, and possibly, just maybe, get a BBQ and do some grilling in the beautiful weather we've had recently.

A good week, spent doing simple things with people I love.

While gutting out some of the huge piles of grading I have had in the last few weeks, I put on some movies to fill the time; especially on those nights when Sheri is at work, it's nearly a necessity. Being a social person, I will simply fall asleep if I am in silence reading papers for too long.

Long and heavy movies are on the dock for such evenings, since Sheri wouldn't watch with me if she were there...and so some of the highlights have been a viewing of Patton and the entire Godfather trilogy. I also finished watching Band of Brothers with Sheri a short time ago.

The result has been some surprises; after rewatching the entire amazing experience of Band of Brothers, and then viewing the fascinating but unsatisfying stories of two masters of men, George S. Patton and Michael Corleone, I am convinced of one thing; it is better by far to have a simple life than it is to strive after glory and power, even if you succeed.

My revelation may seem obvious; I am sure I have friends who have never been tempted by the lure of the pursuit of power or glory. However, I have perhaps never been so fully convinced that a simple life is better as I find myself at the current moment. It is a little funny, and a little sad, that it was the medium of movies that communicated this truth to me; our Lord, after all, said plainly that blessed are the meek; I think the reality is that while I trusted His wisdom, I did not fully perceive why it was so wise until seeing the stark comparison via these movies.

The Band of Brothers, tells the stories of average men who accomplish great things; not for greatness itself, but because it was what was required of them at that time and place. Once they were free to live their own lives, for the most part they proceeded to pursue lives of excellence, but not necessarily worthy of general acknowledgement. From all accounts, they lived (and some continue on even today) as unassuming members of their communities, proud of having known and served with men of valour and honor and courage, but each thinking themselves to be the least among these. They quietly receeded from their glory, and embraced the simplicity of a lives well lived, filled with good hard work and the accomplishments of years rather than wealth and influence.

This is contrasted with the lifes of great men, for whom no success is ever enough, who quest after the immortality of their own names, and discover that grasping their hearts desires means losing all the zest which first urged them forward.

I hope to learn the quiet joy of such a life. To dare all the great tasks which necessity requires of me, but to content myself with the joys of being a father and a husband and a son. To embrace the pleasure of being a teacher and a student, to quest after the glory of old age with the wife of my youth and the joy of a community I have invested in.

And I am looking forward to continuing down that road this coming week. Huzzah for Easter Holidays!

What is It Worth?

If the Iliad is a story of the Polis and the Man, the Odyssey is a story of the Man and his Home.

Though this difference may seem negligible, it is actually substantial; one paints with broad strokes the inseparable give-and-take relationship that exists between a community and the individuals that make up that community, while the other offers an intimate look at a need within Man's soul: the need for Home.

The contrast is stark (so much so that some hardly believe the same poet is responsible for both stories), but the lessons from the stories are not necessarily at odds with one another. In many ways, the change is actually natural; only a hero who had endured the hardships of the Trojan battlefield could make the Odyssey Home. Having learned the difficult lessons of Ilium, Odysseus naturally turns to journey Home, and in the process begins the next lesson; not only are we intricately and irreversibly intertwined with our Polis, but our Home is the only thing that completes us, and without it, nothing that we have is worth anything. Odysseus will endure any trial, and literally cross every ocean to get back Home.

If this is the lesson of the Odyssey, why does Odysseus spend so much time along the way home in the (sometimes pleasant) company of various hosts? Whether he is being held against his will by Calypso, or is being hosted in the halls of the Alcinous & his Phaeacians, or if he is skirting death at the hands of the Cyclops, or journeying to Hades itself...sometimes Odysseus seems to take his precious time getting home. My 7th graders recently finished reading Books 5, 6, 7 and are even now working through Book 8. They suspect Homer was filling space, what with the seemingly disconnected account of the Halls of Alcinous; after all, what can be the point of recording all the niceties accorded to Odysseus? One can hardly fault them for this suggestion on their first reading of the text, and in fact their reflections propelled me in turn to reconsider the "why" myself.

Not only is it unwise to assume that Homer was writing to fill a 24 Book quota, but this assumption also robs us of the opportunity to learn from the suffering of the Man of many sorrows. We become so focused on the destination at the end of the road that we miss the necessary lessons of the journey. The story tells us of the journey Home; it is not a story about Home itself.

Yes, Odysseus faces horrors; yes, he endures hardships. On a few occasions, his men all perish, leaving him to journey on alone (which, as we know from the Iliad, is not a good thing...). This makes sense...a story of hardships and adventures makes for exciting reading. Still, Homer also tells us about Odysseus' journey's through pleasures and comfort; and this is because he is emphasizing the value of the prize at the end of the road.

If we brush over the details, and ignore the stops along the way, the end is hardly significant. Odysseus is under-going what amounts to a sanctification process; even as he endures trials, he also relinquishes any inordinate good thing which is not the highest good. As a result, the value of Home grows; not only is Home worth facing the Cyclops for, but Penelope is more worthy of his husbandly affection than the divinely alluring Calypso. Eternal youth on pleasure island cannot compare to the joy and satisfaction of old age with one's wife, the mother of Telemachus (another man searching for his proper place in this life...but that's for a different post). The halls of Alcinous, filled with wealth, mighty people and joy are nothing to the son of rocky Ithica.

All that matters is getting back Home. Home is the prize, higher than any ransom or substitute; and because we see what Odysseus allows to fall by the wayside in his quest to get back Home, we can believe that this is not merely an idolized fancy, or a cultural assertion with little weight to it in reality. By taking us on the journey with Odysseus, Homer is leading us towards a better home, even as his hero strives to return to the one that calls to him, wherever else he might be.

In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning

Sheri has recently shifted over to night shifts...which means I am alone three nights a week.

And while this fact has brought some interesting truths to light (I have not actually evolved all that much from college bachelorhood, apparently...left to my own devices, my nights are fairly boring, and generally involve unhealthy food and a grungy appearance I somehow manage to avoid whenever Sheri is around...oh, and I talk to myself more...) it has also afforded me the opportunity to reflect on some realities I would not otherwise have considere...

Also I lose more sleep. My hours become much more irregular...in part because I am the only one who cares if I am awake...but also because there's nobody to hold at night...and, as sentimental as it sounds (and I know it does, but I don't care) I don't sleep well when Sheri's not in bed. I'm not a cuddler...but having her there lets me sleep in peace. She's my security blanket...on her side of the bed. Because I really am NOT a cuddler.

Our dog gets the brunt of the loneliness...I have allowed him to sleep on our bed once or twice, and have even pulled him up on the couch with me as I passed out one night, just to feel as if I wasn't completely alone. Who knew I'd turn out to be such a pansy?

Of course, Aiden is upstairs...but he's in bed by 8.

One of the interesting realities of this restless waking that I suffer from on these nights is that I am awake while mostly everyone I know and love is asleep (except, oddly, Sheri...who, we all hope, is not asleep, as she is administering medical care...).

It is both remarkably lonely and also bizarrely serene to be the only one up. On the one hand...well, I've already covered the being lonely part...though I didn't mention also the new found creepiness of our house when it's dark and I am alone...sometimes I think I can't sleep because I have to keep watch over the house until light comes.

Then there's the odd peacefulness of being the watchman. It is just me, the (sleeping!) dog, my computer, and my iGoggle, whose theme is currently on "Earth-Light" which allows me to track the progression of the sun over the continents. Imagine the lives spent in blissful sleep...reflect on the souls just waking to the dawn...consider the multitudes already in the very midst of their day...

Sleep peacefully friends. I am, maddeningly, awake...and watching over the entire Hemisphere...at least until I pass out from exhaustion.

Have a Happy New Year!

Believing that next year will be better than this last. Happy New Year friends!

Familial Reflections on a Christmas Night

Christmas brings to the surface those affections for our family and friends that may go unexpressed a lot of the time throughout the year. We dare to show people the love we hold for them, following the example of God Himself. Of course, the interesting thing about acts of love is that they tend to stoke our affections to heights that we were not aware existed.

I am my father's son, and the result of my mother's patience and constant love. I am the product of a handful of mentors and teachers who did not merely punch a clock when they came to school...but who chose to invest in me their time, wisdom, care, concern, discipline, and knowledge of God and His universe. I have been marked and defined by the friends that I have been honored to develop relationships with, over years and across the world. I am the man I am today in large part because of the woman I fell in love with, and the son that we share.

All these are the gifts of God...unquantifiable, immeasurable, and priceless.

This Christmas has been different for us. This Christmas, we went no-where. We invested in some few, larger, family oriented gifts (such as Odysseus), and ultimately, I had exactly one present with my name under the tree (my dear wife feels bad about this...I don't mention it to suggest that I feel unloved or overlooked, as I will explain in a moment...and besides, as the keeper of the check-book, it is difficult to avoid the feeling that I am buying myself a present--even though she makes more than I do!). I opened exactly two presents, allowing my wife to open the other couple of presents we received jointly as a family.

I cannot express how blessed I feel this Christmas.

This, perhaps, sounds cheesy and forced. I am not putting on a show. I have not always regarded actual presents under the tree with nonchalance; I love toys, I have a list of expensive ones I'd love to get, and we'd be better off if I cared less about stuff. I enjoy the whole gifting process: the getting, the giving, the receiving, the enjoying; it is ALL good.

I say this because I believe God, in His grace, has allowed me to transition into a fuller part of Dad-hood gracefully this past year. I used to wonder how my Dad could endure getting so few really good presents for his birthday and Christmas...let's face it, there are only so many times you can get cheese, or salami, or socks, or a home-made "whatever" before the gifts start to lose their novelty, right? My dad never seemed to mind, and I could never really understand it. Even when I pretended not to care about how good the haul was, I cared.

Until now. I cannot explain it...it sounds too cheesy, and a little prideful. Suffice to say...I am actually, surprisingly, content.

Why this tangent about gifts and Christmas? Glad you asked. See, one of the realities that has impressed itself upon me this Christmas is the great joy of giving gifts to those that we love. It is those people we love that I have been thinking about.

What I am thinking about, more than anything else, is the not so subtle ache that has been building since last night for friends and family that I have not seen, and perhaps won't really get to see again. Fortunately, that doesn't include most of my family...but too many friends to count are "gone" and I miss them. The missing is, if anything, punctuated by the occasional presence of those friends who are on the fringes (all too common at this time of the year), slipping out of regular contact, and becoming members of that class of friend that it takes real effort to be connected to.

Friendship is a difficult and important thing...but, oddly, missing friends and family is a good part of life. It is natural, it is appropriate...and it keeps us hoping for tomorrow, when maybe, just maybe, our old friends will once again be by our sides. It is the call of Heaven, when there will be no more goodbyes.

Until then, Christmas stirs in our hearts the need to show those that we can how important they are to us. To give as we have received to those that we have with us, to cherish them with the time that we have been given, and to reflect on how our temporal relationships are but images of the love that abides between our Creator and us.

Merry Christmas.

The Patience of Christmas

As a teacher, I am daily confronted with the need for and the general lack of patience.

I do not limit this to my students, but they do demonstrate this problem quite vividly; they are young and they are growing...and growth can be difficult at the best of times, and all the more in a society that tell us constantly that we shouldn't be content with what we are. They wrestle with learning to persevere through the hard times, to strive when there are easier ways to accomplish the same "goal" of graduating from school and going off into the world...they struggle with learning to trust me and be patient, even when they don't understand why Mr. Leigh is so excited about Book 12 of the Iliad.

They are attempting to navigate the difficult waters of growing up without falling victim to the traps of a culture obsessed with being 18 years old. For them, the danger lies in growing up too fast. One of the aspects of my school that I appreciate is that the students are encouraged to preserve their innocence as they grow (hopefully) wiser.

It is my task, in part, to prepare them and to educate them regarding the need to prepare themselves before venturing out to the waiting world. To teach them the virtue of patience.

Patience is one of those virtues that can only be learned the hard way: through the practice of waiting.

I was reflecting on this the other day, and while reading the Doctor's thoughts on the importance of history, it occurred to me that the promise of Christmas is a lesson in the value of patience.

The season is predicated, in part, on waiting. It's why children have to learn to wait to open their presents until Christmas Day. It's why Advent comes before the joyous Christmas morning. It's why we waited through the years for the time to be ripe for the coming of the Christ. And it is, in part, why we wait now for Him to come again. Waiting allows us to learn to be patient.

Why is patience so important?

Through patience we learn to be content in God's timing. By patience, we access the peace of God in every circumstance. Patience allows us to endure the slow grind which so frequently typifies sanctification. Our God, the actualizer, chooses to allow us to wait for His perfect time, instead of pushing us forward by the sheer force of His awesome will.

Learning patience is a gift. It can be grueling, it may drive us to the ends of ourselves, but along the way we have the opportunity to see God's plan for us unfold.

Adam and Eve were the first to hear the promise. They died with only the hope that salvation would someday come from one of their own children.

Abraham endured time and again, only seeing his hope begin to be realized at the end of his long life.

Generations of Israel suffered in slavery, endured the wilderness, won and lost themselves a homeland...until, while under the brutal subjugation of Rome, Christmas dawned on them and the world.

Look for the dawn to follow the darkest moments of the night. Christmas comes in the midst of winter; life promised in the middle of the barren cold.

Drawing Us Out of Ourselves

An undeniable reality of our current age is that there is real distress about how tomorrow will turn out. We worry about how we're going to manage rising prices, lower salaries, buying Christmas presents, paying for new clothes, affording the car, saving for college, and putting aside a little bit for retirement.

Noticeably missing from this list is any mention of charity.

Now...I did just make up this list...so it is possible that the vice is merely my own. However, I'd venture to guess that most institutions that draw their primary support from the gifts of their community are hurting, and/or worrying about how they will survive in the midst of economic down-turn.

It can sound ridiculous to suggest that hardship is really a blessing, yet the Christian world has, since the beginning, argued this very thing. Which, of course, begs the question...Why should we relish the lean times? Why welcome periods of trials and tribulations? It cannot be a good thing to see others suffer...nor should we take joy in the downfall of our friends and neighbors.

Yet it can seem that hard times are the only times that show us the things that really matter...or, for that matter, the times when we see most clearly what we value and what sort of people we really are.

Which is why this season of tightened belts can be a good thing. It can remind us of those needs which are greater than our own; it can draw us out of ourselves and reach out to our community to show the kind of love and hope that attends the promise of Christmas.

Watch It's a Wonderful Life and think about what kind of a community we might have if we all strove to uphold one another in the midst of potential disaster.

Peace on Earth, Good Will Towards Men

With two weeks to Christmas, it is easy to get completely snowed in by the hustle and bustle and forget to stop and reflect on the meaning of the season.

A potential new favorite film for me is Joyeux Noel, the story of the ceasefire of December 1914. In a terrible war that cost the world the untold promise of generations, Christmas almost ended the war before it could really get going.

I love this story for a variety of reasons.

1. It is a true story...perhaps not the personal stories added for human interest, but the events did occur. Gotta love it when real life is as good as any fairytale; in the Winter of 1914, in the fields of France, we saw a fairytale unfold, before a self-imposed reality reasserted itself.

2. Christmas nearly ends one of the worst wars in history. I am a major Christmas fan...that makes it sound like a sporting event or something trite...I am a firm believer that much of the good that we have experienced in the last 2000 years started with the promise of Christmas, and the world languished as it waited for the first Christmas. This story is just another example of how the hope which inherently abides with the season can be life changing, reaching across all sorts of boundaries.

This is the very message of Christ, which no amount of strife or self-inflated cause of man can ever fully quell.

3. As I mentioned, it's a real story. I am also a fan of the period...the possibilities of the young Century were still unknown, and the strife of the Old World final came to a head in a calamitous wreck of war and carnage...in the finest traditions of tragedy, we can only read and wonder what might have been if any one of a myriad of possibilities had happened instead...

4. The final thought of the story is not a happy one. The officers (and in the film, even members of the church) must actually work hard to get their men to get back to the business of war. While it is not a joyful thought, I think it is important to reflect on the deliberate choice to embrace vice and pain is a consistent theme in the tale of man. This stands in stark contrast with the hope and promise of Christmas...which is, I think, the point. We cannot save ourselves; in fact, left to ourselves, we will actually work hard to choose death and war rather than peace.

Christmas promises a hope which has not yet been entirely fulfilled. While the salvation of Christ is something we can appreciate, we are left to struggle in Middle Earth and have not yet known the joy of the deathless land, where peace and love are the law of the land. Christians should be careful, as we preach the peace of God that we recognize that this world is not and will not be free from strife. Tomorrow will be better than yesterday, but only because tomorrow brings us closer to the Lord, and further from ourselves.

The promise of Peace on Earth, and Good will Towards Men was both fulfilled 2000 years ago, and yet remains to be completed. Take joy in this season, and reflect on the depth of the promised redemption. Find peace, as we live a reality that is still to be realized in full, and love as we look to a day that completes an act of love that altered all of creation.

Mysterious Providence

It can be hard to find the right words to say when we see a fellow brother or sister in need. We frequently remark that "the Lord works in mysterious ways" whenever we encounter a problem that is too great for our own problem solving techniques. Prayer is offered vaguely, and rarely as real, tangible help, in and of itself.

We have been struggling to find the way to make ends meet recently...I will freely admit we have not been the best stewards of what the Lord has given us, and we are working to try and amend that problem...but the fact remains that our bills have exceeded our income for the last few months. As a result, new problems arise, and then we get even more worried about it.

This week, I was getting so distracted by it that I was having a hard time concentrating on much else in a spare moment. I hadn't checked our mailbox for about two weeks, because I didn't want to see the bills...a "see no evil" sort of thing...

Coincidentally, I also chose this week to start reinserting prayers into our morning routine in class, a practice that got neglected as my tunnel vision for our lesson plans forgot the importance of prayer in the morning. We have been reading from the Book of Common Prayer, and I have been teaching the kids about the value of communal prayer, and lifting each other up. In these prayers, I have actually not prayed for my own concerns (which is somewhat odd, given how much they were stressing me out...perhaps part of the denial tactic...) but have prayed strictly for others.

About mid-week, I suddenly relaxed and decided that I would pay what I could and work out how to take care of the rest as we could. We would cut out all unnecessary spending (eating out, eating gourmet, fun toys for Aiden, new clothes, etc), and do what it took to get out of the hole we had gotten ourselves in. More importantly, we would take up the practice of tithing again, something that has once again gone by the wayside because it was convenient.

I was content with this solution...it wasn't a complete answer, but I could make it work. We would focus on loving each other, and not on satisfying every want and desire with things and money.

I went to the mailbox this morning...facing the music, finally.

After fighting to get my mail out of the box for about 2 minutes (the postman must be a genius...I have no idea how he got it all in there...) I got it home and started sorting.

One imediately caught my attention...in the envelope window it said "Pay to the Order of Christopher Leigh..."

We received a notice a few weeks ago that our house had recently decreased in value from the time that we had purchased it (to roughly exactly what we had paid for it, so that was fine...). I didn't think much of it at the time, but apparently we had paid taxes on the house when its value was higher.

The envelope contained a refund for the extra taxes we had paid, essentially exactly what I have reasoned out that we needed to put ourselves out of the trouble that we had gotten into.

Not saying that every time you have a need you'll get a letter with a windfall (although this has been our experience...), but I do want to point out the overwhelming provision and grace for those that turn to the Lord in their need. I had already received what I consider to be an answer to my problem...I had peace, and a plan, which is what I had so desperately needed. This last is wonderful, and unlooked for...and more than what I had even thought to ask for. The mysterious providence of our Lord really does challenge all of our preconceived notions of the nature of things.

Speak to Us in Our Pain

In the face of tragedy and violence, all too common in an age of violent men who resort to violence when their arguments fail to convince, it is easy to respond in kind. It would be easier, we tell ourselves, if the God allowed us to hate terrorists. Why should grace extend to those who allow hate to justify their murderous actions?

I have certainly wrestled with these questions. In the wake of 9/11, I spent many days and nights wondering about the justice of God in the deaths of so many whose only crime had been being American, prosperous and free. We may not have gotten along with all those that perished...but since when does that justify such violence? What should a man do in response to such an attack on innocents?

It is only reasonable that the tragedy in Mumbai has elicited similar questions.

Pain is intended to cause us to pause. When we become closely acquainted with grief, we are forced to ask...is there a point? I echo the great souls of Christian tradition when I confidently assert, yes! There is a point to our pain. We do not suffer at God's whim, nor do we suffer without hope of a ultimate redemption. Not least among the reasons we suffer is that suffering affords us a unique opportunity to display a confidence in the divine plan that God has for the world. To show that God's forgiveness and grace exists especially for those that choose to put themselves at odds with their fellow man, and in opposition to the God that created them.

Vengeance is the Lord's we are told, though that might be a concept seems repugnant in our search for justice. We have the might and therefore the responsibility to defend the helpless; it seems only reasonable that we would be vested with the responsibility of punishing those guilty of the inhuman acts of slaughtering the innocent and defenseless. After all...aren't we the hands of God in this world? At the very least we can condemn in the strongest language and in the most absolute terms the actions of those monsters, and even the monsters themselves; their path leads to hell, and the righteous wrath of God is their reward. And if we can send them there a little sooner, then so much the better for the rest of us.

I admit that these have been my thoughts from time to time as I have wrestled with the ramifications of the crimes perpetrated against civilians by terrorists. To see my justice fall on the heads of the animals that see children as targets. To see the terror they would use as a weapon destroy them.

And yet...even as wrath begins to fill my heart, the Spirit whispers, "This is not righteousness the Lord requires."

If God's forgiveness is extended to me, I must give as I have received. As He recognizes no limits in forgiving me, how can I put a limit on what I forgive? As one of my favorite questions from the best Christian movie of recent times puts it, "At what price mercy?" The legacy I have inherited tells me that I should show mercy and forgiveness, even if it costs me my life.

So what then? Do we collectively "turn the other cheek" and ignore the evil actions of butchers and villains? Is the wrath and righteous anger we feel in response to the crimes that were perpetrated in Mumbai impotent?

In a word, no.

This does not mean that the only option is pacifism. If God had not closed the door, I would presently be serving in our armed forces, and I gratefully support those men and women who sacrifice to protect and serve those of us who are not on the line with them. I do believe that there is an appropriate apparatus for bringing terrorists to justice, and for defending the helpless. It can be maddening that we must trust in something as clumsy as our government to champion us against such evil, but I also believe that the government exists to protect us from the inevitable harm that comes from the necessary task of dealing with those criminals. A reality of war is that even being in the "right" doesn't protect you from the harm that comes from taking life.

For those of us who are not responsible for holding that line, the task is less exciting, certainly frustrating, but necessary; we must pray for our enemies. Pray that their hearts would be broken by the Spirit of God, and pray that they would repent of their evil deeds before their final judgement is upon them. Pray that in the midst of this pain, we would hear the voice of God, speaking to us of the plan that was laid down with the foundations of the earth, to bring us to our Creator in a world that will finally be free from the weight of pain.

What Moves You to Give Thanks?

I have been cheerfully enjoying my time off this past week. Thanksgiving is the official start of my favorite Holiday season. We start putting up lights...we will make the trek down the street to the Christmas tree farm a block from our house, to get a tree to put up, and I will climb up into the storage space to get our our decorations.

It is easy to simply enjoy the season, and not really reflect on what it means. Still, this is a season sparked with a celebration of thanks, marked by the waiting of advent, and culminating in the joy of the Christ-mas.

Giving thanks is a funny thing; it is rather like apologizing, in that it acknowledges a gift, perhaps even a debt, and grace from someone else on our behalf.

My wife tells me that I am quick to apologize...and I think that this is mostly true. My parents raised me to have a certain amount of humility about my choices and actions; something that is helpful when you make the kind of mistakes that I do. One of the pleasant results of that has been that I do frequently willingly embrace the burden of apologizing. I do sometimes wonder if I am too compliant...but I am convinced that it is safer to be compliant than stubborn, generally.

This is not to say that I am always humble or compliant...I do not always apologize first. One of the lessons of marriage I have had to learn is that, generally, fights last exactly as long as we refuse to make peace, and peace starts with someone being willing to admit fault. It is fair to say I don't like admitting I am wrong, even though if you know my wife, you can probably guess that I frequently am wrong. It's always easy to apologize when there's no skin on the line...when your pride is in the game (as it usually is in marital arguments), the words "I'm sorry" can seem almost impossible to conjure.

I mention all of this because, as I said earlier, I think giving thanks is very similar to apologizing. Sometimes it is simple and easy; who really cares about saying "thank you" when someone holds the door open for you, or when someone gives you the right of way on the road?

But life is rarely simple...how do we humble ourselves to acknowledge God's blessing, and credit not our own cunning as the source of our prosperity?

Or, as is increasing common in these times, many people feel less blessed and more stressed. In many instances, our skin is on the line; our credit, our investments, our livelihood...how do we give thanks to God for circumstances that don't seem to favor us? How do we acknowledge God's providence when it makes so very little sense from our perspective? In the midst of pain, fear, stress, how do we say, "Thanks be to God"?

If our thanks is based only on our personal experience, the answer is we don't say it very much at all. If our thanks is centered on our perspective, unless this year has been a year free of pain, filled with easy riches, and unfettered by the weight of the concerns of the wide world, we have little to be thankful for; after all, this is a hard time: people are dying and suffering, may of us are facing questionable financial futures, and it is all very stressful. Hope and change may be coming (it remains to be seen) but the reason so many people blindly leapt out into the void for the chance that Obama might be unlike every other politician is because we are exhausted and overwhelmed by all of our present circumstances. We need a tomorrow that is different from today, because today has been very disappointing...and yesterday wasn't much better.

How can the Lord call us to be at peace in the midst of this Winter of discontent?

I started writing this blog the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and became distracted by the holiday. Since then I have returned to class and have been teaching my 8th graders about the Greeks and their understanding of the world. I've mentioned a few times how much I am enjoying these classes, connecting them to the origins of their culture, the legacy of their heritage as citizens of the West. Yesterday the lesson concerned the way that the Greeks perceived history and the future; by and large, the Greeks were hopeless. For the Greeks, yesterday was better than today, and tomorrow will be worse still. The Hope that came out of Pandora's box wasn't a promise of a better tomorrow; it was the last cruel joke of the gods as they unleashed death, disease, suffering and pain on men. In almost every Greek myth, whenever circumstances have the chance of working out and people living happily ever after, you learn quickly that they almost never will.

This was a concept that my students didn't quite grasp (a fact that did my heart good). Of course, this is because they are Christians. We reflected on this reality in class, that unlike the fathers of the West, we had come to know a Hope that is not a cheat, that will not disappoint.

As we enter the Advent season, waiting for the promise of Christmas, and the coming of salvation from a God who did not create us to torment us, but to reveal His goodness to us, and many friends and relatives are sending notice that this year they will be foregoing the tradition of giving gifts, we have a unique opportunity to reflect on how the Christian life is bountiful regardless of the abundance of our bank accounts, or the presents under the tree. Let us give thanks, not based on our personal experiences, but as a result of our recognition of the hope that we have in tomorrow, and the ultimate hope that eternity's horizon promises to make known to us.

To Live, not Survive

Pixar has a history of making entertaining movies that hit home on a variety of levels. My son loves to watch them, and so do I. As if it wasn't enough that they were pleasant and funny, they also address issues that we as a culture are wrestling with, if not in the mainstream, at least sub-conciously.

Wall-E was one such movie. Sure, there's the environmental issues, and the moral about laziness, and what not; all good things to think about. There are even "Cave" moments, as humans who had long ago lost sight of real things are awakened to gaze once again in wonder at the stars.

But what makes me well up inside everytime is actually a line that comes from the human captain as he struggles against he rogue auto-pilot. The "Auto" is telling him that the ship cannot return to Earth, due to secret directives from the last President of Earth, and his clinching argument is that because of this plan, "Mankind will survive," to which the human captain replies, "I don't want to just survive; I want to live!"

It gets me everytime.

I am in the midst of struggling to impart the legacy of the West to my students, and they frequently wonder if all the extra work they are called upon to do for the sake of their educations is really worth it. Their peers elsewhere are freer after school than they are; they have been working to learn how to write in ways that no students their age in America write, to master a language that hasn't been commonly spoken in in over a 1000 years, and to engage in the art of logic as 8th graders. On an average day, I will repeatedly hear the question, "But, why...?"

And though my answer will vary in type, it remains the same in its message; because the things worth having come at a cost, and the prize that you seek is actually valuable, and thus we should expect to have to sacrifice in order to gain it. I tell them that comfort and ease are not, in and of themselves, the highest goods we can attain; that as with atheletes in training, pain is just a natural part of the road that we must walk if we would grow and be more than what we naturally are.

If we would do more than merely survive, we must endure pain, fear, possibly even death. Survival as a goal is hardly worth fighting for. Life is more than comfort or even actually being physically alive. Pixar, in a Chestertonian spirit, shows us that the pursuit of life requires a willingness to lose one's life, even as one fights to keep it.

The Spirits of Yester-year

When I was a senior in high school I had a fun year. Having spent the majority of my junior year trying to survive Algebra II & Physics (my good friend Jeremy Williams told me when it was time to sign up for classes that, between Physics and Chemistry, Physics was the easier one, and the one that required less math...thanks for that Jer...to this day, I cannot look at a bridge without feeling that sinking feeling that comes before you flunk a test...I would routinely get home after wrestling practice at about 4:30, drink some water and then get started on my math & science homework...which I would finish at right about 9:00; I would do all my English/History homework at school in the half hour before classes got started); with this in mind, I was more than happy to ignore the advice of my high school academic counsellor and avoid just about every real class.

This was my senior year schedule, roughly adapted for the semester change, and as best as I can remember it in order:

Creative Writing
Wood Shop/Drama
Weight-Lifting (Originally it was going to be AP Psych...but, again, that involved work...and I was NOT interested...and I was a wrestler, after all)
Choir
AP English (my one *real* class...I was in a room with the smarties--including my wife and my best friend, BJ Cadd--and I was suffering woefully from senior-itus...Mrs. Cranston would usually evaluate my efforts with a look of mingled pity and impatience...I think she was happily surprised to hear that I learned to love learning in college...this class did actually change my life though, as it was the first time I ever read a C.S. Lewis work that wasn't Narnia...about a year-and-a-half later a discussion with Emily Moothart about the Great Divorce would be one of the significant stepping stones for getting me into the Torrey Honors Institute)
Bible
Photo/Pottery

It was the only year in high school that I made the good grade lists. I know what you're thinking...how on earth did I get into college? I wonder that often myself...to say nothing of how did I actually get into Torrey. I was lazy, and wasted a lot of opportunities...I don't really have regrets (it was a great year), but my academic life has suffered. There are worse things, and fortunately, God is gracious.

During my semester working on Black & White photos (which is a real art, and I loved it...it's a dream of mine to re-learn how to do the whole thing, and make a dark room of my own...maybe someday) we would take pictures of friends, trees, cars, water in the parking lot, and through the miracle of the absence of color, create instant nostalgic mementos for our youth.

It is something few people can understand; unless you're a missionary kid, a military brat, or something very similar, I cannot explain what is like to grow up without a home. I am not complaining, either; it is just that this fact altered the way we all interacted with everything, in ways that I am certain we did not realize at the time. We had to carve out pieces of permanence for ourselves, so we could explain where we came from. Figuring out where we were going to often proved a challenge. College was, for me, just the next step...I had zero expectations and just about no specific ambitions for it...I just knew my time as a kid in the Philippines was over and I had to go out alone and make my life into something (in all fairness, I should add that I chose to go alone...I chose an expensive University on the opposite side of the country from my parents, at least in part initially because of a girl..again, wisdom was clearly not my gift).

While we would work in the dark red glow of the dark room, and watch our pictures materialize in the developer fluid, we would listen to music. Music is one of those special gifts, that allows us to connect events and feelings with sounds, so that some experiences never entirely fade away from the memory. When I was in there, we would listen to 1 of 4 - 5 different tapes (back when things were still on tapes...at least, in the P.I.). One of my favorites was a song already dripping with nostalgia all on its own; added to that environment, it became an anthem for the cleaving that was taking place that last year at Faith Academy. Although my state-side counter-parts knew this song as "that annoying song over-played on the radio" or a song off of a soundtrack, I knew it only as "The Sunscreen Song," on my friend's tape.

It's been 8 years since I had access to this song, but every now and then I'd hear a snippet somewhere, or look at one of my black and white pictures of the flowers that grew on our hill, or the tree that we'd climb during lunch time, or the puddles left after one of my last tropical storms, and I would remember my Fall semester senior year in high school. I stumbled across an i-Tunes gift card yesterday from two years ago, and for the first time I have access to DSL...so, once again, I have access to instant nostalgia in song form.

Some of the maxims remind me of painful mistakes, or some of the happiest moments I can remember (I am one of those rare few that actually enjoyed my high school experience...I attribute this to my parents, my teachers, my friends, my circumstances...but above all, my God, who really was merciful; I made it through with my innocence mostly intact, something that I have since learned not to take for granted). Mostly, they make me reflect on how I have changed since the last time I heard them, and whether or not I still consider them to be wisdom or "a form of nostalgia, dispensing it (advice) is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than its worth."

Maybe it's because it's been eight years...maybe it is because we have just moved and I feel a little alone and am starting over once again...maybe it is because I am now a dad, a husband, and my best friend from high school is going to be married this Spring and that makes me feel a little old...maybe it's because Facebook keeps showing me pictures of people I knew when I was my student's age or younger...but I have been very nostalgic of late. I want to connect with my past, and if possible to make it a part of my present. I hope I have abandoned the foolish lie I accepted when I was in high school, that those were the best times of my life, and that being young was the best part of living, period. Youth is painful, and it is good that it transitions into maturity. But there are sweet things about youth, and the bonds and memories of our firsts are worth treasuring, so long as we don't try to revive a life that nature and time has resigned to the past.

This is why we strive to be winsome, curious souls that grow in the Lord, but retain our youthful excitement about the potential to grow and learn and explore the undiscovered countries of heaven.

What Do You Take?

As with everyone else who currently resides in Southern California, I have been thinking a lot about how I would respond to a disaster, such as the fires that have devoured hundreds of homes and changed radically thousands of live this past weekend.

Many are reflecting on the very important questions of why this sort of thing happens, what we can do, how to help those of our community that have suffered from these fires, etc. My school is putting together an effort to collect for those that lost everything some food, clothes, and necessities as they start the process of rebuilding and recovering. While I am praying for those that have been impacted by this recent blow in a season of hard knocks, I have become aware of a new thought that is germinating as a result of this most recent disaster.

I am in the midst of getting our new house put together. It is a long, costly process...what money we do make doesn't stay for long in the bank account; it is frittered away on light bulbs, and stair railings, plumbing issues, paint, furniture, etc. And to be fair, we spend to much money on stuff to makes it all easier; we are working on being good stewards of what we have. Our house is beginning to take shape, and I am finally enjoying coming home, enjoying sitting in my living room, enjoying walking up the stairs to bed, passing pictures of our family that now decorate our walls. Our house is becoming home.

And then, the fires come.

One of my professors used to say that people become Conservatives once they have stuff they want to conserve. I have been a Conservative since before I had stuff...but now that I have stuff, I DO want to conserve it. So fires, while always bad, now represent doom on a whole new scale. I have watched more avidly then before; and in the midst of fairly standard coverage of such a tragedy I resonated with some things I have not reflected on, in this way, before.

As with every disaster that dominates the headlines and impacts the society en masse, we are reminded that it can happen to us, our security is precarious, and we should plan for the future. Emergency plans, survival kits, insurance, etc.

All of which has prodded me to consider this question; if disaster were to come, what would I grab for in the rush of trying to get out of the way?

This isn't really a deep question; it amounts to little more than a variation of the game "Desert Island": what book would you take, what one tool, what one food, what one person, etc., if you were stuck on a desert island?

Assuming my family is safe, the important documents are in the car, and now I have a chance to grab one or two things...what do I pack up on the way out from the fire?

I think I will ammend the situation to allow for packing up a few small things into a box, and count that box as "one thing," though that may be cheating, its my game and I make the rules.

My first would be the pictures on the wall. I started to say some of my books, or new TV or something like that...but of course, those can actually be replaced...and if they can't, life will go on. I would generally be a better person if I watched less TV. But those pictures of my son and I at the Aquarium of the Pacific, my wife and I at our rehearsal dinner...those are the moments I want to hold on to.

My second is unfortunately my rotten computer. I hate to think of saving a computer...and maybe this will inspire me to transfer some of those things to a safer, easier to grab place, but my computer has my papers, my music, and hundreds of pictures that haven't made their way to the walls.

My heart is sad to think of my books burning and saving my rotten PC...but such is the age I live in. I need to get an external hard-drive, so I can throw that in the box of pictures and start picking up books...

What would you take?

In Defense of Palin Pt 2

To Continue ...

2. Sarah Palin's persona is a boon to the office. She unites a party that has been looking for a leader they can support. The more experience she acquires, the more tether she will be gathering up for her own run for President. She is charming, relate-able, and more than all of that...she exhibits the values that Conservative Republicans such as myself have been waiting to see up for election to the highest offices in the land.

We need a communicator in the driver's seat. McCain is able to talk to the American people...but everyone knows that Obama gives the better speach (which is not to say, "is the better speaker" because, as everyone who is not drinking Obama-aid will acknowledge, he's down-right bad when he's off the cuff. He's dangerous and gaffe prone...because his unfiltered thoughts are dangerous and offensive to many; think about the way he talked about "punishing" his daughter by holding her responsible for her poor choices). McCain's tenure will not be the golden age of rhetoric in American politics. But Palin might be that ray of sunshine...and that's exciting. I want a leader I don't have to translate for, and I believe she offers us that...which makes her an exciting pick.

Republicans who never enjoyed the era of Reagan, but were raised hearing nearly mythic tales of his abilities to navigate politics, the press, communists and stand for articulate morality (inotherwords...Republicans like me...roughly in their early to mid 20's) have been waiting for someone we could be excited about. When George W Bush first ran for President, I knew essentially nothing about politics. I didn't vote, because I was a Freshman in college and didn't care enough to wait in line; not something I am proud of, but its where I was at. Four years later, a lot changed, and though I argued long and hard for the reasons to keep the Republicans in office, I had learned something that my civics class never managed to communicate effectively: the President is the communicator if chief, and we need the President to be able to lead, not just in action, but in word (that sounds backwards, I realize, but its true nonetheless; I believe, firmly, that President Bush has led in action with regard to many important issues...but at a critical time, when communication was desperately needed, he failed miserably). It is exciting, in a way that nearly defies explanation, to see leaders in the wings of my party that will offer an alternative to this problem; leadership that can ignite passion throughout the party and, more importantly, in the nation as a whole, through the force and power of their words, married to the testament of their own example. Its inspiring and challenges us all to reconsider the low bar we are willing to tolerate from our leaders. It is much needed.

The truly unfortunate reality is that the counter-balance to the Religious-Right Republicans in our society has been a really unbalanced Progressive Left. That the Democratic party has nominated one of the most Liberal Senators to run for President speaks of the alarming power this portion of the party holds over the party as a whole. I feel for my Democrat Christian friends...I don't understand why they are supporters of Obama, but I do feel for them. Their party is, seemingly, married to supporting unlimited Abortion; they will negotiate, unreservedly, with known terrorists; they will withdraw troops from an ever more successful project for Liberty in the middle of the Middle East, ignoring the advice of the commanders on the ground in favor of their own opinions.

In otherwords, they have given control of the party to the far-Left wing...and middle ground is difficult to discover. The sad result of this truth is that it is not acceptable to promote the success of the Democrats, even when the Republicans have gross failures of leadership...because the alternative is both immoral and unsound for our continued security. Those issues come before the question of the morality of social programs (or lack thereof) or the issues of national spending, debt, education, healthcare, etc. Life and Security trump all other rights (not by a lot, because Life and Secuirty are not EVERYTHING...but by enough to make the difference in an election that offers me only one clear choice in support of those values). I can tolerate a well defined, reasonable argument on many topics...suggesting that a woman's right to choose comes before the right to life for the unborn is so wickedly perverted that I cannot come to table with Pelosi, Obama, Reid, Clinton, Biden, etc.

I believe Palin might offer an opportunity to rediscover the vast middle ground that unites us, instead of continuing the dissent on the issues that divide us. Her appeal crosses long established lines...there are women in both parties, moms in both parties - should she be elected as VP and then go on to race again for the top spot, I believe "With malice towards none and forgiveness towards all..." We have come a long way from the War of the States, yet our nation is deeply divided. On both sides seeds of disdain and emnity are sown; perhaps it is because I am of the Right, but my perception is that the hateful, dismissive manners of the Left make a reunion more and more unlikely. Individuals of the social upper-crust speak in terms that are not acceptable in general society about the leaders of our society...which lowers the debate and weakens our general powers of debate and thought as a result. Politics is a contact sport...but for it to remain halthy, we need politicians that can remind us of our commoninity, rather than divide us in a war for power. I believe that the Gov. of Alaska, with home-town charm, and wit-with-a-smile, can offer that.

In Defense of Palin Pt 1

It is always good to be challenged to defend my opinions about, well, anything...but especially things that perhaps I haven't fleshed out seriously. There is always the chance I haven't thought about them (or haven't considered the counter-arguments to my self-proclaimed position of truth and reason) and by working to defend my prior thoughts, frequently I learn more about why I hold certain positions...or I learn to change my position to a better one.

This is my preface to defending Palin. None (I started to say "Many"...but lets be honest...) of my arguments are not original...which is somewhat fair, since none of the critiques leveled at her on this blog are original either. Enough. Here are my thoughts.

1. Palin's experience (or apparent lack thereof) is not detrimental...is anything, it recommends her to the position of VP.

We can talk about the comparison of Obama and Palin's respective experiences in government (though, again, Obama is running for the top job...Palin is the second stringer). Obama has mostly run for office his entire political career. He has rarely stuck around long enough to contribute to the process...even before he was active politically (on a national level) as part of the academic world, he barely contributed to the ongoing discourse in a tangible, lasting way. No papers of import.

Contrast this with Palin's record, during her admittedly short period in politics. Of course I am being terribly biased. Obama has accomplishments to hang his hat on. Debunking/debating the merit of those is a future post's responsibility. My task, in this post, is to defend my belief that Sarah Palin is qualified to be a great VP, and if need be President. She has exhibited foresight and a commitment to implementing changes that will effect infrastructure and, as a result, the real day to day lives of Americans. She is unpopular amongst politicians of her own state, while being wildly popular with the actual people. These things all speak well of her ability to not only lead, but act in our best interest.

We could discuss the value of executive experience VS legislative experience. The President is the chief executive...which means that those who have handled the top job in any nearly any level of government have more familiarity with what it takes to be President than those that don't (in fairness, the federal government is significantly different from all other levels of government...and having experience at that level does and should count for something). In this case, we have 3 senators and one Governor in the election. It is somewhat of a mystery to me why, when Congress has an approval rating lower than the President's, we put members of Congress on the ballots, but we did. Still, Palin offers something that nobody in the race offers; executive experience from outside of Washington and the Capitol. That may not sound important...but looking at our nation, it certainly seems to resonate with the desires of our nation, and I think it will turn out to be an asset in governing.

Lets also recognize that whoever the next President/VP is, there will be several advisers for them. They will not be making decisions based solely on their own research, their own experience, or even their own opinions. This should make us all feel a little safer...especially if a lightweight such as Obama does get the big chair. Should Palin be the one to navigate the waters of Iraq, N. Korea, Russia, Pakistan, Iran, Venezuela, etc in the event of McCain's death, I believe she will be capable of taking on those challenges. This is, in part, because of her seemingly default response to new and potentially frightening challenges. This is, in part, because I am convinced that she, as a Conservative, leans towards a position that lends itself to one of peace through strength. From her natural leadership to her personal convictions (which one can see easily by taking even a cursory look at her personal life), I believe she embodies qualities that make a good, possibly even great leader. If duty called her to the plate, she would be up to the task, based on her own character. The tools for the job, in part, come with the job. What characterizes the person that uses them is what determines who we vote for.

God With Us; Christmas Day

In a season that has, by and large, lost its meaning in the midst of the commercial profit it represents, we are called to allow our feelings to dictate our actions. To let the joy and the merriment of the season inspire us to act in ways that we would, normally, not. And, of course, the skeptics in our society mock this sentimental call-to-arms. Feelings, after all, are not highly estimable when it comes to the real and serious business of life. Death, destruction, sickness and poverty are everywhere...surely, this nonsense of Christmas is just that: nonsense.

Surely, any change in our behavior that can trace its origin to some holiday must be too artificial to be taken seriously.

Yet this is the season of Joy, and it is the celebration of the fulfillment of a promise, steeped in the myth of our race, and intertwined with our daily lives. Those skeptics would do well to remember...long ago, mankind died. We became creatures of sin, and were permitted to work our will in all things, to our own destruction. In this state, we despaired...from the darkness of the earliest years, we were lost without hope of redemption. Through all the myths and every legend, this is clearly seen...we know we are lost and cannot save ourselves; we know that there is something wrong, that we cannot put right.

But 2000 years ago...everything changed. Life was irrevocably altered. A God became a man, and that incarnate God-man turned the established world of sinners on its ear. Death was robbed of its power over sinful man...because redemption was handed down from Heaven by God Himself, if only man could humble himself to seek salvation.

In short...all hope, all love...every good thing we know in this life, finds its source in the story and promise of Christmas.

Over the years, recognition of this fact has become packaged in the celebration of the Christ-mas, which in turn has become encumbered . We have lost sight of the amazing nature of the story, and classify it as myth and metaphor, belittling its importance by passing it off as unlikely and therefore untrue.

Still, the story of mankind's hope cannot be separated from this celebration. Every year, we celebrate joy in the midst of the death of Winter. We celebrate love and giving in the season when we have, historically, the least to spare.

And yet, the critics are right, in a sense; the world is not perfected yet. Heaven will not happen in this life...our hope lies in the land of God, and our joy waits in eternity. But today, Christmas Day, we celebrate that promise of hope, and the arrival of Emmanuel. God with us...abide with us...Emmanuel. Celebrate, men of earth; the Christ-child came to earth to save us from ourselves!

Oh, come, oh, come, Emmanuel, And ransom captive Israel, That mourns in lonely exile here Until the Son of God appear. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come, our Wisdom from on high, Who ordered all things mightily; To us the path of knowledge show, and teach us in her ways to go. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come, oh, come, our Lord of might, Who to your tribes on Sinai's height In ancient times gave holy law, In cloud and majesty and awe.Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come O Rod of Jesse's stem, From ev'ry foe deliver them That trust your mighty pow'r to save; Bring them in vict'ry through the grave. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come, O Key of David, come, And open wide our heav'nly home; Make safe the way that leads on high, And close the path to misery. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come, our Dayspring from on high, And cheer us by your drawing nigh, Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, And death's dark shadows put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come, Desire of nations, bind In one the hearts of all mankind; Oh, bid our sad divisions cease, And be yourself our King of Peace. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

Merry Christmas, and may the Joy of Christ lift up your hearts!