extent of our ignornace

An early 2014 research study brought to light an intriguing commentary on life in these United States—

· 33% of High School graduates never read another book in their lives.

· 42% of College grads never read another book.

· 80% of US families did not buy or read a book in 2013.

· 57% of books are not read to completion.

· 70% of US adults have not been in a bookstore or searched for a book online in the last 5 years.

· 70% of all books published never earn a profit (mine being some of them).

Based on these observations we might conclude that people in North America are becoming increasingly uninformed about the world around us; be that fictional, scientific, historical, or present day. On an educational level, Finland ranks #1. The United States ranks #22. Maybe it’s all that ice, sub-zero weather and tundra.

Our ignorance is simply revealed in these questions—

· Where were Shakespeare’s plays performed? (The Globe Theatre.)

· Who is the President of Canada? (Trick question. Canada doesn’t have a president. Look it up.)

· What is the latest theory about the creation of the Universe? (It created itself.)

· When was Muammar Gaddafi President of Liberia? (He wasn’t; he was dictator of Libya.)

· Who are your State Senators?

· What was the tipping point of the Second World War? (D-Day, the capture of the German Enigma machine, the Battle of the Bulge. Your decision.)

We are a nation where very few people are motivated to learn, to stay abreast of world events, or who have forgotten our own history. Thus Deconstructionism. If we do not READ we will simply go with the predominate opinions/positions handed to us by our TV/Internet news media. And HISTORY? Who has time for it!?! I mean, whatever could History teach us?

Our ignorance is not yet complete. But it is NEVER too late to challenge what’s trending.

For what it’s worth,

Gary

“When did doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important to you?”

It was with this question that Gandalf the Grey, Wizard of Middle Earth, challenged Bilbo Baggins of the Shire in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit.

Bilbo had become comfortable, complacent, uncomplicated; retired, in some senses. He had grown at ease with the life he had come to enjoy in the Shire. Everything was as it should be; everything was in its place; life moved along within predictable perimeters. Then, in one evening, his world was launched into chaos and mayhem with the arrival of Thorin Oakenshield’s band of thirteen dwarves. With dwarves and dishes flying everywhere Gandalf arrives to bring a meager sense of order to it all. It is then that the Quest to retake the ancient Kingdom begins to take shape.

It is often out of chaos and mayhem that our own lives begin to take shape. Tragedy cuts short our plans and dreams; broken trusts confound our relationships; fear grips our souls with spiritual and emotional stringency. There seems no place to go but…, actually, there just seems no place to go: we believe there is no way out of the quagmire that bogs us down in futility.

Thus do we give up.

Do not despair. There is always a way to push your way through the fray and conquer. Some suggestions, if you will—

1. Stop! Give your heart and mind time to recover from the shock.

2. Ponder. Think through your own shortcomings as well as external causes of the recent events that plunged you into this devastation.

3. Talk with wise friends; not just with drinking buddies who will commiserate with you. You need sound advice and reflection.

4. Pray for guidance from above…, especially if you do not believe in a god. There just may be one who might surprise you. Boo!

5. Do NOT watch excessive amounts of TV to escape. That will merely dull your senses and make you tired the next day.

6. If you are married, talk with your spouse about what you are experiencing. This is the one person in the world who loves you the most. Time to open up.

7. If the road ahead still seems muddled, seek professional advice. A life-coach, a professional job coach, a relationship therapist, a pastor, AA. You do not have to go this road alone.

8. Recall your own network of friends. There usually is someone there with connections.

9. Use an actual piece of paper and pencil (not pen) to clarify issues, draw connections, identify failures (your own & others), and to lay out your next steps. Do this alone first, then, with someone who knows you v-e-r-y well. BE HONEST.

10. Let it all go on a walk, a run, a basketball court, Ultimate Frisbee, or a fine dinner out. Thinking about your situation ad infinitum will drive you crazy.

I make these recommendations because I have been where you are now in life. I have known the pain, the broken trusts, the tragedies, the loss of those I love, the personal failure. You can and will get through this— for your own sake, and for those you love.

For what it’s worth,

Gary

Transparent Truth

In our present era there seem to be all kinds of truths; convenient truth, relative truth, truth, Truth, your truth, my truth…, & the list goes on. What’s true for you may not be true for me. In the realms of personal preference, in fashion, and politics, this is all well and good. But…

What about the issue of Ultimate Truth? The conclusion of many people is that there is no such thing. Truth is determined between the interplay of truth, the experience of the moment, and the individual; thus, relegating Truth, true-Truth, any truth, to the realm of relativity.

This leaves us on quite unstable ground; for there is no common understanding about what we are talking about, no shared definition of what we mean by what is true. So, what is true? Who’s to say? Truth becomes whatever is convenient for us at the moment. Liberators or invading forces? Comforter or manipulator? Scientific breakthrough or stating the obvious? A matter of perspective.

Truth, for the most part, should be obvious— staring us in the face. Maybe not so much at a cellular or galactic level; we might need some help delving into those mysteries. But TRUTH should be part of the basic human condition, existing within us, observable around us.

Truth should be, and is, transparent to the keen eye.

So how/when did we start redefining truth in our own terms? Why did we feel the need to do so? Is it simply a matter of divergent philosophies, divergent religions? Or merely personal preferences; Truth that suits my agenda, my priorities. Then is it Truth at all? Truth, just for you?

I would challenge you to examine the way you determine what is true. What is true scientifically? What is true about the origin of the universe? [The newest theory is that the universe “created” itself.] What is true about yourself? What describes you to others? What is true about God? Is there one? Can we adequately describe everything without him? Hummm.

Oddly, some of these questions will take in depth study and personal reflection; a few deep conversations over a dram of Single Malt might also help elucidate things.

Truth can arise to become more and more transparent as we seek it. It is not as clear-cut anymore to simply grasp it where it is. Over time, Truth’s transparency will become more obvious.

What do you think?

For what it’s worth,

Gary

St. Patrick, the man, not the myth

Saint Patrick (Latin: Patricius, Irish: Naomh Pádraig) was a Roman Britain-born Christian missionary and is the patron saint of Ireland along with Brigid of Kildare and Columba. When he was about sixteen he was captured by Irish raiders and taken as a slave to Ireland, where he lived for six years before escaping and returning to his family.

“He entered the church, as his father and grandfather had before him, becoming a deacon and a bishop. He later returned to Ireland as a missionary in the north and west of the island, but little is known about the places where he worked and no link can be made between Patrick and any [particular] church. By the eighth century he had become the patron saint of Ireland. The Irish monastery system evolved after the time of Patrick; but the Irish church did not develop the diocesan model that Patrick and other early missionaries had tried to establish. Uncritical acceptance of the Annals of Ulster would imply that he lived from 378 to 493, dying on March 17^th, and ministered in modern day northern Ireland from 433 onwards.” (Wikipedia)

Patrick understood people; he understood Ireland. Instead of confronting the native Druid religion, Patrick incorporated their worship of the sun into the Christian faith as worship of the Son. He used their bonfire celebrations as part of the Easter celebrations. He used the ancient Druid symbol of Spring, the Shamrock, to explain the three Persons of the Trinity— Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. He endeavored to build a community of believers, a parish structure, rather than the pyramid hierarchical structure he had experienced in Rome.

Patrick knew the importance of blending the worship of Jesus Christ with the warp ‘n woof of daily life. He understood people have roots in their culture and communities…, and needed roots that would reach far deeper to the God who made them. So he brought Christ to them in a language and culture that they already knew.

So, when, and if, you reach out to God, try to do so in a way that is fitting with your culture, your language, in your community. You’ll be amazed at how well Jesus understands you already. You’ll still be Irish, or Ghanian, or Jewish…, but different.

Er-in go bragh (look it up.)

Gary

Giving up God for Lent

We are now 6 days into the Christian season of Lent. Coming down to us through the Greek “Tessarakoste,” meaning “fortieth,” it signifies the time of Christ’s 40 days of fasting in the wilderness. For Christians, it is supposed to be a time preparation through prayer, repentance, increased giving, and self-denial for the coming of Resurrection Sunday. Following the debauchery of what Mardi Gras (French for Fat Tuesday) has become, a time of fasting and sacrifice seems quite appropriate to prepare for the remembrance of Christ’s Passion. In the late Middle Ages the word Lent (meaning Spring) replaced the longer “fortieth” recollection, melding it with the heralding of approaching Spring.

Today, nominal Christians make token gestures at giving up something, usually trivial, to signify their sacrifice for Lent. Chocolate comes to mind. We certainly would not seriously sacrifice anything that would draw us closer to Christ; let alone further from this world’s pleasures.

Here’s a suggestion— Why not give up God for Lent?!?

If you are a casual Christian, one who maybe attends church at Christmas and/or Easter, the occasional wedding or mandatory funeral, this suggestion is easily grasped. For you, the Christian life is an addendum to the one you live out on this earth. Your faith has little to do with your life. You practice a convenient-faith, one that fits your needs and your priorities. What the God of the Universe offers you seems to come at too high a cost. When He says to you, “Give me everything you have; and I will give you everything I have.” you wonder if it is a fair trade.

Now, if you are a genuine Christian, with a deep faith, rooted in Christian community and the Holy Scriptures, this will prove most difficult. It will be veritably impossible. For you could no more think of turning your back on your Savior than serving another god. This suggestion should be most repugnant to you, if not near blasphemous. For true followers of Christ, the idea of sacrifice is already imbedded as a core value. Lent should be no different than any other time of the year.

So, if you are not a genuine follower of Christ, why not give up God for Lent?!? Frankly, why not give up on God altogether? It will affect your life neither one way nor another. OR…, you could use this Lenten Season to begin a new faith in God and humbly seek His favor. Sounds odd, doesn’t it? That we should seek the forgiveness and favor of One beyond ourselves.

What do you do to celebrate Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection?

For what it’s worth,

Gary

Why my heart aches

There have been too many times in life where my heart has been crushed by the suffering of others. Their experiences and anguish were hard to hear. I can’t imagine how they lived through those times. Some had gathered the fortitude and faith to persevere; others, not so much.

What the human spirit, heart, and body can endure always amazes me. I remember a woman, a teacher, once came to me with grey hair. The day before her hair had been auburn. The beating she had endured the previous night had been so terrifying that it turned her hair grey in a matter of minutes. Her husband is now in jail. How did she endure such terror?

Another person I know has almost lost her mind and any will to live because of a brutal rape. Another woman came to me after her 6^th abortion. Sixth! She wasn’t sure who she was anymore; she wasn’t sure she could ever have children.

Other friends have lived through “less” traumatic experiences— the suicide of a husband, the loss of a job, living on the grace of others after months of unemployment, the loss of their child. My heart aches for these people.

Over the years, I have been able to move from sympathetic to empathetic, allowing me some distance to garner wisdom and perspective on their horror. It is hard to help another when we are in the thick of it with them. When there, we can offer comfort; but little else. We have not the strength.

On a grander scale, my heart aches for this world— the natural catastrophes, the fires, floods, and earthquakes; but also the human devastations— genocides, regional wars, terrorists attacks, the manipulation of the balance of trade, the prices of oil and grains, and forced poverty and human sex trafficking. The injustices I read online every hour. All of this weighs on me heavily.

How should I, should we, respond to this mess?

My first thought is to become a part of the solution. To make a difference! To be one-of-many who count the cost and throw themselves into the fracas. Who, instead of protecting our own interests, look to the needs and well-being of those truly in need.

Sure, my heart still aches. But at least I am doing something. How about you?

‘Nough said,

Gary

the wolf that is clawing at your door

Sometimes…, when we are alone at night, we can hear things— creaking floors, expanding pipes, hissing radiators, or dripping facets, that oft become more than they actually are. Our senses play tricks on us. We imagine someone trying to break in, someone coming up the stairs, or something in the room. Our fear crescendos until we reach to turn on the light. We breathe a sigh of relief; nothing there: but what about outside the door? We pull the covers up.

Nonetheless, could it be that something is genuinely there? Not in the creaks and cracks of the walls that surround us, but just outside the doors of our minds, of our souls. We cannot see it. We sense it. We feel it. We know something is “out there,” that wants us. We’re just not sure what.

Its clawing is relentless, constant. We can never quite evade the feeling that we are under surveillance, under assault.

As we move through our days, going about our business, getting things done, the scratching feels more subdued, less present, less a threat. It is when we are once again alone with ourselves that it returns— the wolf that is clawing at your door.

At times we toy with the clawing, imagining it to be an offer to open the door; an invitation to come and play with the beast, to see how close we can come to his claws, how close we can come to his jaws. We make a game of it, scratching back from the safety of our side of the door, 2½” away from certain flesh-shredding destruction. We find it exciting to play with evil so close to its fangs.

It is one thing to fall into danger, into the clutches of the wolf. It is quite another to play with it, as if it were a cuddly little puppy. He is not. For given the opportunity, the wolf would devour you and everything you hold dear. Yes, his games are exciting, tempting you to play outside in the dark; but in the end he would consume your flesh and crush your heart and soul in his jaws.

Life is full of vibrancy and celebration! Joy! But life is no game; though to avoid its uncertainties and difficulties we often pretend that it is. Wisdom dictates that we bear responsibility for our lives, our actions, and those within our safe-keeping. To do any less is to crack the door open for the wolf. He would love to get his claws into you. Be on your guard. Always.

With caution,

Gary

Dimmer Switch

Why are we ON so much of the time? Too many of us just never STOP. We fill our lives with important things to do; then we keep filling them to overflowing. Something has to give, or break, or wear down. Usually, it’s us. We can run at 110% for a long time, but not forever.

Johnny Carson (1925-2005) former host of the TONIGHT SHOW once said, “Death is Mother Nature’s way of telling us it’s time to slow down.” He had a point. We simply never stop, or come to rest until we die. Hard work builds character, stamina, and commitment; and it is good for the soul. But does it have to take hold of us so unrelentingly that we cannot NOT work? Seriously, when do you stop, just sit, or read a book on Kindle? When was the last time you chucked a football into the hands of a friend; or beat the pants off of someone in HORSE (1on1 basketball)? There are beaches to walk, mountains to climb, and paths to be trodden all around us. Leave the office, your Lazyboy, your FB, iPhone, & SKYPE behind.

If you have decided to install an ON/OFF Switch in your life, where you come to a conscious point when you voluntarily shut down, keep in mind that your ability to truly shut OFF will be nigh to impossible. If you are like me, you will find it too tempting to do just one more thing. It is the way we are wired.

The solution is obvious— install a Dimmer Switch alongside. It might be one which is set on automatic, where specified triggers shut you down whether you want to or not. [Kids come to mind.] It could be one that is self-monitored; but too many things can go wrong with a Self-Monitored-Dimmer-Switch. It is best to give the control of the switch to someone else. (Ask me how I know.) You may not like it when they dim you down; but eventually, you’ll thank them for doing it.

There are times in my life when I need to heed that old adage “Be still, and know that I AM God.” (Psalm 46:10, Bible) I need to reconsider its corollary as well— “Be still…, and remember who I am.”

I need a Dimmer Switch. How about you? Actually, I’m stopping now. Click!

‘Nough said,

Gary

A Severe Mercy

A Severe Mercy (Harper & Row, 1977) chronicles the autobiographical-journey of Sheldon Vanauken and his wife Jean “Davy” Davis from their first meeting at Wabash College through their 17 years of marriage, much of which they kept secret from their parents. In Severe Mercy, “Van” describes his love for Davy as quite pagan; that is, they made a commitment to share everything with one another, to the exclusion of having children, since childbirth was something they could not share together.

They constructed what they described as the “Shining Barrier” that would protect their love and devotion from all external influences. But that Barrier was “invaded” (Van’s word) by Christ when they became involved with a small group of Christians at Oxford University. Davy was the first to “cross the room” to shift her primary alliance and become a committed Christian. Van crossed over later, albeit somewhat begrudgingly.

Then tragedy struck. Davy contracted a virus in the summer of 1954 that quickly took her life on January 17, 1955. She was 40 years old.

A Severe Mercy describes the agonizing struggle Van experienced after the death of his deepest love, partner, and wife. Through correspondence with Oxford Don C.S. Lewis, Van came to grips with this terrible loss, and learned that genuine Christian faith does not guarantee life-long happiness; rather, it offers the resident presence of the true God throughout all life’s twists & turns.

Throughout our own journeys it is true that all of us will find ourselves in places we never expected. We can prepare for some of them: but others will hit us like a bolt out of hell. Life will seem a flowing stream of pain, recovery, and rebirth. Some of us can pass through this progression better than others. Some of us never quite enter the recovery stage. Rather, we languish and fade in our own anguish.

We may believe, like Van and Davy, that we can erect a “Shining Barrier” of love, or isolation, or stoicism, and insulate ourselves from others, from the outside world, from being hurt. If you’ve been on this earth any length of time you know that does not work. But what does work? What can keep us from being hurt? What can protect us.

The simple answer is—nothing. The hurt, the betrayal, the pain, will all come. But the nurturing of personal identity and integrity, establishing a deep faith in God and growing deep friendships, goes a long way toward providing both genuine safety and security in those times of uncertainty. Remember, “… I will never leave you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6)

For what it’s worth,

Gary

A Lion Shorn

Facing a new year always brings hope for new beginnings, fresh starts, and a revived spirit. We make resolutions to change things, to do the right thing, to gain in character and lose in poundage. This is right and good. The real test comes at the first setback, the first impediment to our efforts; that alarm clock, the snow storm, the pain that doesn’t seem to work its magic on the gain (weight, that is).

We start off as a great lion, ready to defend our pride, ready to battle the aggressor, ready to provide and persevere. We roar; ready to take on all who might thwart us in our dreams. Though the hunters be many, we will avoid their assaults and elude their snares. Our hearts are steeled on what lies ahead!

Nonetheless, within the next 12 months something will come upon you that will crush your strength, undermine your resolve, and quench your spirit. Your roar will be quelled to a pathetic meow and you will cower in a corner somewhere, trying to escape or slink into anonymity. You will be tempted to give up and call it quits.

But that is not what you were designed for.

Remember Aslan of the C.S. Lewis NARNIA books. A lion, shorn of his mane, emptied of his strength, bound and lying powerless on the ancient table of sacrifice. Then…, slain. But he did not stay there. He rose up, greater than before. Ready to do battle. Ready to protect his own. Full of power and might. THIS is what we are made for! Not whimpering, nor cowering. Rather, for overcoming and conquering, in strength and with great graciousness.

So, this year, when the conflicts come, when the confusion overwhelms, and entering a cloister seems the only sensible thing to do, remember Aslan, who eschewed retreat, and reentered the fray. You may despair and believe you are a lion shorn of his mane and strength. But you can arise from the ancient alter and once again rise to greatness. You may need a little help doing it; but that is true for all of us.

For what it’s worth,

Gary

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