Relativism and Generations

In my own continuing “trip” I go to a Bible/Book study group out of the UCC church in Riga. At our meeting on the 6th, we prayed for the world in the context of Pearl Harbor and WWII, and then instead of Bible study, we watched the TV movie “Silent Night,” starring Linda Hamilton.

This is the story of a German hausfrau and her 13 year-old son, who have hiked to the family hunting lodge and spend Christmas there. The lodge becomes a resting place and field hospital for three American and three German soldiers. The hostess demands that the weapons be left outside, but the conflict rages on. Conversation ranged over what morality means, where “honor” can play a part in our lives, and what will prompt a person to take action against the standards and norms of the culture in which she finds herself embedded.

It made me realize that I often get into the “US versus THEM” mindset, thinking of others as barriers, obstructions, and problems rather than as my sisters and brothers, not only as children of God but as kindred in the flesh, with aches and pains, sadnesses and easily bruised egos, all of us alike in the frailty of our earthly and earthy bodies as well is in our eternal souls.

The people of the Greatest Generation are aging away from us at greater and greater speed. The Silent Generation (or the “War Babies”) are now our active elders, and the “Baby Boomers” are the adults and soon to be seniors. The biggest difference in the three cultures from my perspective is the lessening of the black and white and increase in the grey for all conflicts. A friend once lectured me that he thought we would all end up in a great sea of relativist morality unless we decided to take a stand. He argued that we must stand firm and draw moral lines in the sand; we must forbid certain activities and punish the violators. But I understand, and that movie on the 6th brought me to appreciate that there are two forces at work in all of us. The first is self preservation, which operated in the Hausfrau – she began to see the evil of the War only when it came to take her 13 year old son away. The second is an innate (God-given) sense of right and wrong which was shown by her outreach to both the Germans and Americans. The miracle described in the movie is that she was in the right place at the right time to save six lives and celebrate Christmas in the midst of the evil war she was fleeing. I believe that with those two forces in all of us, we can reach for a civilization that respects and preserves all people, what Christians call the Kingdom of God.

Can a person truly understand, empathize and forgive what might also be deemed alien, immoral and unforgiveable? I agonized over the Killing Fields of Cambodia. How could there be such things as the Holocaust and Khmer Rouge’s decimations and the Chinese Cultural Revolution? How could humans with souls like mine commit these atrocities? How could American criminals become mass murderers and torturing cannibals? My father and Goldwater both believed in the philosophy of “just wipe ‘em off the face of the earth.” The Silent Generation wanted blockade and separation – “Let ‘em go to Hell on their own.” Boomers, who earned their stripes questioning the motives of the Viet Nam war on both sides, began our journey starting at the process of trying to understand the others. And I believe it is in the trying that we become Christ-like. We must still oppose, but to truly and successfully oppose, we must understand, we must love and we must forgive. To mindlessly oppose is to become mindless. Isolation from the world is impossible. Evil is permutable, so we must be able to perceive, understand and adapt our defenses and even become preventative. Christ’s teachings first and foremost demand that we THINK not that we apply a formula or look it up in a table. We must become Sun Bin for Peace.

Psalm 46:10 Be still and know that I am God.

The magazine "A Northern Light" had a repeat of an 1886 article which advised the reader that noise and busy-ness was not a sign of work being done. I t reminded me of a truism in engineering one of my college fraternity brothers was fond of repeating, "If a part makes a lot of noise, replace it, it is going to fail." Quietly doing one's job without fanfare or hullabaloo is not only efficient, but effective.

Coincidentally, my spiritual director, Marie, has asked me to think on the idea that God may not want or expect us to "do" anything. It might be our calling to "be" for God.

It is who we are that may encourage, enable or even drive us to take one action or another. We are not doing it "for God;" we are doing it because it is in our nature. That is also simply "being" for God. But I think Marie was calling me to consider taking a break from activity and spend some time in quiet and reflection.

My sister sent this to me. I remember seeing it in the theaters when I was just a lad...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mVh75ylAUXY&feature=player_embedded

Covenant

What is covenant? The Anglican Communion seems to be in a furor over the breaking of covenant. The Episcopal Church of the USA is in an uproar about what appears to me to be accusations of the breaking of covenant.

In the Bible, God offers Covenant with the created several times. Each time the created break the covenant. Each time God follows up with another covenant. We are constantly called to be, think and act like members of a covenant. The offer stands and we can choose to be or not to be in relationship with God. If we fail, God tries again.

I see the Universal Church as an on-going covenant. We're asked to believe and act as though we are believers that we are all one, through communion with God. I also see us continually failing, and see God continuing to offer paths to communion no matter how broken our side of the covenant.

All that said, a word from the jailhouse lawyer in me: Neither side in the current battle is right.

The literalists are saying that the Word cannot be altered by the changes in the culture of the World in which it is immersed, and therefor they have a right to break away. They ignore the (small "t") truth that logically, if covenants and agreements cannot be broken, then they have no argument before law to take away assets with them when they go. The original covenant of each parish should not be altered by the culture in which it is immersed...

The progressives are saying that the Word is constantly being revealed and that new understandings reveal new meaning. Well and good, but apply that evenly, and the original covenant of each congregation must also be re-examined in the light of new revelation.

Last week's New Testament reading from Ephesians is being ignored by both sides, but especially by the dissenters. They seem to be unable to put aside their anger, and it is leading them into slander and libel, as seen from this one set of eyes. Now I hear that South Carolina Diocese is rattling their chains. First, the Bishop is being led into falsifying his pledge to remain in the ECUSA. He either lied to obtain sanction or he had plans to violate the covenant. Either way, I am hurt by another clod falling off the continent. Second, if the covenant feels like chains, they should throw them off until the concept of covenant fits their theology better.

I have remained an Episcopalian despite the hurt, betrayal and faithlessness I perceived. My formation as a member of a denomination defined by covenant and compromise and my desire to worship in communion, even with those who hurt and/or provoked me, was stronger than my desire to hurt or provoke them. Eventually, piece by piece, my heart has been healed and my communion with God and my siblings in God's Church strengthened. Not strengthened by agreement, but by the commonalities, the joint struggle to remain a parish in the Episcopal Church, but also to do mission and ministry together in difficult times and situations.

What next, God? What can I do to help? Speak, Adonai, your servant is listening.

Dan's Sermon

My pastor gave a sermon today about the crowd the day after the feeding of the 5,000. he talked about us (the crowd) just not getting it. We want a miracle each and every day, and we don't understand that we ARE being fed. When asked, we quote Scripture, but we don't listen to the words we're given: Love God and each other. We are commanded to be in relationship: relationship to God and to each other.

My mind drifted a little, and I thought of my concentric circles of living. With the pastor's sermon, the bull's eye became God, around that, me, and around that my family and in-laws, around that my friends and around that my community, and then outward. The sermon said that there are only two: the bull's eye, which is God, and then the rest of Creation. Hm. No wonder we cite Scripture instead of obey it! It's easier!

Rainbows

There is in Rochester a bridge over the Genesee River. On one side is the Kodak Hawkeye plant (which during WWII manufactured bombsights and now that Kodak, Bausch and Lomb and other Rochester companies no longer actually MAKE things, has been let to ITT for some purpose no one knows) and its employee parking. On the other side of the bridge is the Maplewood rose garden park and the YMCA. On the bridge is a perpetual rainbow. Driving across westbound in the morning and eastbound in the evening, the mist from the cascade directly upriver floats in front of you, and the sun shines through it. It is a visual caress. No matter the season, there are people who make a special trip to use that bridge rather than the one a mile south or north.

I choose to drive up St. Paul Street to go to church two or three times a week so that I can cross there rather than downtown or at Bausch Street. I carry that rainbow into church with me. I have that image of God's creation when I hear the priest say, "and this fragile Earth, our island home," and the people respond, "By your will they were created and have their being." (BCP p370) Then my heart sings and that rainbow shimmers in my mind's eye.

The Roof

When I was 12 and thirteen, we lived in Alpena Michigan. One of the industries there was a roof shingle manufactory. They made an asphalt shingle that stood up to wind and lasted. But they were outshined by new self-sealing shingles that were easier to install. As I sat here today gazing out my office window, I realized the house across the street has the shingles. They are at least 40 years old, and are covered in moss, but the roof is intact. Not a single lifted or curled or bare-of-gravel shingle to be seen. I imagine myself in the position of the owner of that factory: he had a wonderful product, he made it at a reasonable price and employed several people in a good business. Bu he was done in by a lesser product that was easier to install, even though it did not last as long. People were willing to go with the cheaper (in labor costs) product to their own detriment. How would I have reacted? Would I have become bitter, disillusioned? Would I have started making the lesser product? How would I have decided? I don't know how he decided, but even the best asphalt roofs don't last more than a lifetime. Soon the house across the street will get a new roof that will only last 20 years. Will it matter?

Wygelia

Just as the lilacs rhododendrons and azaleas faded away, the wygelia started blooming. In my neighborhood, the perennials are a sedate parade, one following the other, so that there is always something joyous to see. I look forward to the asian lilies and hostas as I revel in the odor of the lindenbaums and privets. I am blessed with the gift of a new flower every week until the kale is covered with snow.

I have been thinking much of late on the conversion experience. Some worship communities put heavy emphasis on that one bright moment of mystery and awe when God's Love overwhelms the senses. I have many of these, triggered by a mere flowering bush, or a baby's chortle, a teen's energetic lissomeness, or a sparkle from a craggy old face. A realist would say that the red cardinal's song is not caused by his heart bursting with joy, but by his inborn need to mate. But why can't it be both? Why can't I overlay scentific reality with my own joy? I promise not to forget the cold just because I am warm. And I promise live from crest to crest instead of cleft to cleft.

Cold Daffodils and the 10th Commandment

My neighbor planted his bulbs near the house; because there is a big overhang on my house, I chose to plant mine in the front yard, next to a big boulder. Next door, the daffodils were in full bloom when the spring snowstorm hit us. I had been sad because I had no daffodils, but now mine are in bloom.

I have had a hard time my whole life being covetous. My friends had Norman Rockwell families. I was an Army brat. I had short hair, my schoolmates had Beatles and Stones hairdos. Cars, muscles, money, social skills, adventures, other people have always had what I want. I was resentful, but it never translated into a drive or ambition. Now, as others are having their midlife crises, I am finally happy not to have something. I am now realizing that the internal babble of jealousy flavored my life but never motivated me: I didn't make decisions based on wanting to be like others.

The fineness of the distinction struck me with those daffodils. I wished my bulbs would come up earlier, but I wasn't about to move them. I just forgot for a while that they all would bloom for the same length eventually. I let my envy make me unhappy by focusing on someone else's blessing instead of my own. The 10 Commandments by being proscriptive, tell me to stop but they don't tell me how. The two the Jesus gave, are prescriptive, telling me how to act.

The daffodils have provided me with a clarity. Instead of being jealous, of wishing I had his flowers, I can rejoice in his because I can enjoy them, and rejoice also that I get a double helping, because when his are through blooming, we both still have mine to enjoy.

I have been doing that, without understanding that I was participating in it. I rejoiced with and for Brad at his ordination, beng glad I had a part in advancing it. Ditto with Alicia and Bryan. I have thrilled to Deirdre's becoming a granny, and have admired the physical beauty. I have enjoyed other people's possessing things without jealousy. Seeing others happy can make me happy.

Dark days are in your mind

Why is the day so foreboding? It is within my own expectations and judgments that gloominess arises. The dogs are truly in the moment: "I am tired, I am hungry, I hear a noise, I see a movement, the one I love is home again." Me, I worry about how the one I love sits morosely, I worry about whether I am doing the right thing to accomplish my mission, I worry that I will grow old and ineffectual before I am done.

I woke today before the alarm went off. I lay in bed looking out at a light grey, almost pearly sky and rejoiced in my breathing, luxuriated in warmth and comfort and thanked God for his gift of those things. But as soon as I got up, I started complaining. My back hurt, there was dog hair on my face, the floor was chilly, my day was too full. Oh, and the world is going to hell in a handbasket, and taking my measly retirement plans along with it.

And yet I have been told that I appear to be a cheery person. I really do look for the positive. So there is a dissonance between the person who is "on duty" for others and the dark poet of my privacy. Who is real? Next Sunday is Easter. Am I a Passion Sunday person, like Mel Gibson, or am I a resurrectionist? Ecclesiastes or Mel Brooks? Know thyself, Bob. And don't evangelize until you are sure of what you believe!

Spring has sprung!

I will soon need a new picture for this Blog. The last of the snow melted under this week's balmy weather, and although it is snowing today, it isn't accumulating. Taxes are almost done, and for the first time in ages, I owe.

As I look inward, I have some doubts. At a meeting today, the men who called the meeting didn't meet my eye. I sat quietly and let them speak, but I wonder if it appeared to them to be a stony silence, or worse, an antagonism. I admit that I took offense at their criticism veiled as a review of the work of our mutual ministry. I also cannot understand what bothers them so much about me. I wish I could understand and give them what they want. Meanwhile, they feel like they are inimical. But on the other hand, is my stony silence so strong and impressive that grown men cannot meet my eye? Hmmmm.


I sing TS Eliot's Lovesong of Alfred J Prufrock:
...No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach...

That is how I think of myself, and yet, I am NOT politic, I cannot advise the prince, and I cannot fade away and spend my remaining days on the beach. I can not stand by quietly. I barge in like the Prince's peasant servant, eager to work, unaware of subtleties like tact or planning.

Damn, I wish I were a magician.

January 24

Spring cleaning on my bedroom. I promised myself I would try to really deeply clean one room a month in the house now that I don't have regular hours. I have not been faithful to that, but today I took the vacuum and dust rag to my room. It needed it badly. The dust and dog hair were bad beyond excuse.

I got a call to come in to Highland. When I got to the patient, the family had already left. Poor guy had died of pneumonia at age 69, died quietly and without much notice, except a note in the chart. The Aide had opened his Bible to Psalm 23. I had comforted the family. I blessed the corpse through the shroud and prayed for his soul to be made welcome, and for comfort of the family. It felt cursory, but when I looked up, the staff had been moved. Bless them for helping me feel adequate.

January 23

Cephas at Groveland. I did not feel like I contributed to them. They were telling me what I should do when I get home. I'll try to say more on the prison blog.

On the way back, Melody called and told me that I was hired. I start Tuesday at 8AM.

I also spoke to Jeanne-Marie, who told me there is a problem that one of the current chaplains doesn't want to take on-call responsibility between 4 AM and 8AM, and how that is not acceptable. I offered to do it, and she said she knewI would volunteer. But she said no. She said she would call me later when it was resolved, or to resolve it with my help. What ever that means. Hope springs eternal. It never rains but it pours. Serendipity is good for me.

January 22

morning of self-care. Studied being lazy, chose not to vacuum or clean.

Area Chaplains' meeting, Eli's wife Leah is gravely ill. I really identified with his responses to our inquiries. He assured us of his network of support, he emphasized his need to regain regularity, he expressed gratitude for our prayers, and went into teaching mode over finding her a new name. I also got a lecture about not being able to fulfill a minyan because I identify as a Christian.

Cephas meeting, Jim repeatedly emphasized my value to the group. I bet Mike said something about my capability as a group leader following the critique that talking about a Rochester house was "false hope" for the men at Groveland. Mark asked me to carry his good wishes to the men there, I agreed to try to establish a connection with Parole through Mike Bell. I also stuck my head into the Vestry meeting and got called on to explain PRAM to them. I felt drained when i got home. When will I be confident and self-assured? Lord, how long must I feel like a dormouse?

January 21

Houses of Healing at the jail, we discussed being judgemental, of stepping back and "seeing the light bulb inside the lampshade" One guy made the point for me: when he claimed to be able to avoid judging others, and I said I'll check in with him in 60 years, he said "I don't need to wait that long. I KNOW you'll be judging others before then." I laughed and said, "Yes, Mike, you didn't hear me when I said I do it constantly?" And he said, "Well you're not such a good Christian, then!" I saw others get the point.
Delphi Board this afternoon, discussed PTO, I remembered that as I teased Felicia for always being late. C.G.L.M., my feeling of alienation from them, especially from John, was palpable to me. I hope I don't provoke the attitudes I am perceiving. Do they see my lampshade, or my light? Denise was there. I returned to her comment about dealing with my "problem" in regards to my diaconal calling. I am really twitchy about that!

January 20

I had an appointment with Robin. She invited Bill. It was to investigate a complaint against me by the charge nurse in Highland's ICU that I had bulled my way into the unit during Rounds. Robin is unaware of the geography of the ICU. She was on site when it happened December 29th. She and I were "running" the memorial service for a young doctor in the Bariatrics unit who succumbed to cancer. I got paged out to get SOS for a patient. The Padre and I were turned back. Family had come in with us, and it got confrontational. I mostly remember the nurse saying "The unit secretary should not have let you in. She's new and doesn't know what she's doing." I am sure my anger was obvious, both for NOT being treated as a co-worker, and in defense of the secretary. But I had reported it to Robin, so I was confident that I had done well. To have this meeting, three weeks later, shook my confidence. And to have Bill there perturbed me. Angel is his student; she should have been there too. Why is she so standoffish to me, to the point of not being in on something a supervisor in training should learn???

Not my problem. I used the opportunity to tell them about the job interview with Melody Bogdon.

January 19

Obviously, I am going to have to get used to daily journaling. It has been too long since I sat here.

CP's mom Dorothy went in for her new knee on Monday, a week ago. All went well, and we visited. Bonnie Tyo was in the elevator and we struck up a conversation. Charles is the PT rector of Mt Morris for the last 4 years. He left the ACEM as soon as the rules changed. Dorothy went to Episcopal Church Home for rehab. She'll be there for three weeks, I guess. Connie and Toni are keeping the home fires burning.

I used a nasal spray Thursday night and came down with a sinus infection that has laid me low. The dog hair in my bedroom is getting pretty thick, so I suppose the dust mites are, too. Meanwhile, in my mind instead of in my head....

Camille is the Cephas volunteer from Buffalo. She is a chaplain at the Sisters Hospital, I think. Somehow, I get the feeling she doesn't approve of me. She goes to Attica for Cephas and "fills in" at Groveland. Maybe it's just her mannerisms. She is very reserved. Our session on Friday was superficial. We all realized that. She vocalized it. Oh, well. We each do our individual best.

Called Dad and he didn't reveal until halfway through that Cara had flown up to visit. Is she well-to-do or desperate? Not my problem. Her last two e-mails have sealed the deal. She asked to be treated as though she didn't exist, and I resisted. Now she will get what she wants. I ache over it, even as I resolve to do it. We are not a close family. Greg and I have the tightest bonds, and they are none too thick. Is it a deficit on the part of all of us? I joked about deciding who will be the family cement now Mom is gone, but she was not very successful, either. I don't think Uncle Dick of Uncle Bruce have heard from any of us in years.

I want to go to Alicia's installation. It would be nice to stop off and stay with Dad when I do. I don't think my car or my calendar could stand the stress, though. I'll talk to CP about it.

While I am on the subject of alienation, Dr. Dan seemed a little odd on Sunday. I am not close to him, but something was distracting him. The annual meeting went well, I thought. He asked me for a year-end report for PRAM and for a new year budget. They are done, but both show a deficit.

January 2

Curtis was supposed to be up and out early this AM, but he didn't. I was going to luxuriate in solitude, but instead made french toast. Then Jim H. called and said he'd be by to pick me up for Groveland in 45 minutes. Where did I misunderstand? I thought we couldn't go these two weeks, 12/26 and 1/2? Am I in trouble? I went from hedonistic eating and ease to hasty and guilty racing around.

It turns out Curtis took a pain killer when he went to bed and couldn't get up, not even to pee. I don't know whether to be mad at him or scared that he could be that disabled. I have decided to let it go, this time.

Prison was sad. The two prisoners I like the most are both negative. It is all a conspiracy against them. They expect to get "hit" again this year. The Chair of the Commission's resignation just made them sure they are right. I tried my best to argue against it, but felt inadequate to the task. I got the feeling they were respectfully giving my an opportunity to speak, but that they were just waiting for me to finish to get back to the "grownup" conversation.

New Year's resolution

I have decided to start up my journal again. I stopped in 1972, after I lost all my journals in an eviction. I think it has been long enough.And since my handwriting has deteriorated along with my reading ability, this is a very helpful venue.

Curtis and I toasted each other last night with what turned out to be spoiled champagne. We are now both retired from the County. His decision to retire rather than bump others was predictable, and affirms what I respect/admire in him. It was not a decision, it was natural.