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Breaking the Chains that Bind Posts

Chains! People Have Me Wrapped Up in Chains!

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Happy Pi Day! I’ll take 3.14159265359 slices of cherry, please!
Yesterday I wrote a pretty pitiful post full of whiny stuff. Well, actually, it was a shameless plug for the upcoming Bible study about Violence. But, it still sounded whiny to me. So, today I thought that I’d revisit something that I’m sure I’ve written about before. Just don’t ask me where or when. C’mon! I’m old! You can’t expect me to remember everything! Sheesh!
That topic is, “Why do I even do this?”
Why did I start this blog thingy over a decade ago? Why have I written well over 500 posts? Why do I continue writing even though very few people ever read it?
Good Questions! I’m glad you asked!
Like I wrote yesterday, there is an organic bond between me and following Jesus. The bond has been forged over more than 50 years of trying, (mostly, unsuccessfully), to faithfully follow Him. During all of those years I’ve experienced the good and bad of Xtianity. I’d like to think that there was more good than bad. I’m simply not sure about that. All those years ago I tossed my hat into the Church, including its history. For the greater part of 1,500 years that history has been bloody and full of violence. Some would say that the Church is just continuing the legacy of God’s people from the beginning. That’s a whole topic in itself. Just not the one I want to touch on now. No, the reason that I want to revisit this question of why is simply an ‘Apology’ in the ancient meaning of that word. Why do I do this thing with words? Words are Power. I’ve written that many times. And, will continue to do so. Because I believe that it’s absolutely true. Words have the power to change and control reality. Especially, the reality in which we each live in. They can, as they say, loose or bind. The binding kind are in my crosshairs.
When I think of words binding folks, the image of Jacob Marley in Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” We’re told that every link in Marley’s chain was forged in this life by the choices that he made in not caring about others. While I know that Dickens was no theologian, his image of the chains is not far off. Whether we carry these chains into a hope for afterlife is beyond me. What I do know, however, is that the Words that we accept and believe very well may. Like I said, Words are Power.
I see the power to bind that words carry whenever I see someone speak derogatory words to another. Things like, “You’ll never amount to anything!” are powerful words. They are able to destroy another person in reality just as dead as any gun. The words that I take aim at are,”Unless you believe exactly as I do, you are going to hell!” Or, “God hates people! If not for Jesus standing between us and God, we would all be incinerated!” Or, “The Church has always thought this. Who are we to question it?” I could continue and produce a long litany of Death Dealing Words. Words that are fired like arrows into the hearts and minds of others. Words flung about without a care of who may be destroyed by them.
So, I write. I write about the Bible and theology. I write about the Church. I write about the abuses that I and countless others received at the hands of people who care not a whit about the damage that their words may cause.
Of course, I would like my words to speak to more people. I believe them to be important in the process of healing from abuse. I believe that my journey may benefit one or two people who are trapped in doubt. I believe that my words contain the Power to Heal.
So, I write. You may not find my words entertaining. Well, that’s not my job. You may think that I’m simply trying to impress with my great knowledge and insights. Well, maybe if I had any. I don’t. I just have my experience and my thoughts about that experience.
And, I write with hope. Hope that someone somewhere may read my words and the links in the chain that binds them to lies and death may weaken. Maybe, even fall off.

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Next Step: Violence in the Bible

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It’s Monday. Monday after a time change. Monday after the time change that costs us an hour. Why is it that humans have to try to tweek stuff that ain’t broken? Nature kept time for millions of years without our help. So, of course we have to fix it. Because we can. Sheesh!
Anyway, this Monday after the bitchiest time change is a snowy one here on the North Coast. Seven days from the start of astronomical spring and we’re getting more snow than in the whole of February. Again, Sheesh!
If it sounds like I’m complaining, it’s because I am. Well, at least I’m trying to stall for time. Yesterday we finished a Bible study on the Gospel According to John. It only took us 13 months. John can be a bit involved. For the past few years we’ve taken a book of the Bible and worked our way through from beginning to end. We looked at the culture at the time, who wrote it, to whom was it written, and why. I tried to follow a particular method that allowed the text to speak for itself. That meant trying to keep presuppositions and other baggage out. Yeah, it’s not easy. But, it gives us a better glimpse into what the writers were trying to say. Not what we would like them to say.
This next week I promised that we would begin a different kind of study. Instead of studying a particular book, we’re going to dig into a topic: Violence in the Bible. The idea that a loving and benevolent God could engage in acts of extreme violence has been a topic of study since the beginning of the Church. As early as the 2nd century folks were looking for ways to explain what the heck was going on with all of that warfare and dashing kids’ heads against rocks. Not to mention the conquest of Palestine by the Chosen People of God. It seems that blood and guts is something that the God of the Bible has no problem with.
Of course, I’m not going to get into this here. A blog isn’t a forum that allows for the in depth reading that something like this requires. So, consider this a teaser. I may write other posts as we go along.
One thing that I would like to say, though, is that the identity and character of God is quite clear. It doesn’t involve the bully-like portrait that so many paint when looking at the Scriptures. So many people, particularly those who read the Bible as a literal narrative of what happened over 2,500 years ago in the Ancient Near East, (ANE). For these folks the writers pretty much wrote what happened either as it happened, or through some supernatural understanding given by God. So, of course what the Bible says is 100% accurate history. (Spoiler alert: it’s not.) In this “history” God is completely justified in stomping out entire ethnic groups because, Sovereignty. Or, something like that. God is NOT that. At. All.
The big theology word of the day for this is hermeneutic. That’s a fancy way to say how a particular text or event in scripture is interpreted by the folks reading about it. Those mentioned above use a hermeneutic of inerrancy in order to interpret the text. What they should be using is a hermeneutic of the cross.
Ok, ok, before I go further, a bit of explanation is needed. People have told me that when I write stuff on the here blog thing that is about me and the experiences that I have, it’s a better read. They like the personal stories. So do I. Most of the time. These same folks say that when I start to wax academic I tend to lose them. Yeah, I get that. So much of the stuff that I write can seem to be cold and ‘matter of fact.’ Two things about that. 1) It’s my blog and I’ll write what I feel is necessary to write at the time. No explanation necessary. 2) The theological and Bible stuff IS who I am. It is ALL personal. So, yeah.
Sorry about the digression. I’ll flog myself later.
That hermeneutic of the cross thing is all about what happened when Jesus of Nazareth was crucified. This one event revealed the total loving heart of God. God the Son, gave His life in order to create a way for all of creation to have life. Through that action a way was opened that allows all folks everywhere to have access to God. There would no longer be a special, what, “caste” of priests that held that privilege. It was God’s choice to do this. I could go on and on ad nauseum about this. But, I’ll save you the Pepto Bismal. Just suffice it to say that the lens of God’s love on the cross is the only lens through which we can see ‘what else’ was going on in all of those violent stories.
I’ve been prepping for this new study since last fall. I still feel woefully inadequate to the task. I guess that’s why I was wasting time at the beginning of this post. We’ll see in a few weeks if this direction was a fruitful one to take. God is a pretty big topic to discuss. How God acts and why is damned near impossible.
But, we’ll give it a shot.
Sheesh!

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Life? Or, Death? Words Have Power to Create and Destroy

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It’s March in Northern Ohio.
The day before yesterday, we flirted with 60 degrees. Yesterday and today, 35 with a wind chill in the 20’s. The weather geeks say that we are currently in meteorological Spring. They might be right. I can look out my front door and see crocus starting to peak up into the sky. The robins are back en-mass. The other birds are also out in their full-throated glory filling the air with songs of hope and optimism. And, of course, the real test for this season, dead skunks along the road. Yep, around here Spring is synonymous with squashed-skunk season.
Right now, the sun is pouring through my office window. The orchid and rubber plant on my desk are loving it! It’s also good for my humor. No, not the funny kind of humor. The other kind. You know, the melancholic kind that is exorcised by sunlight. Not a bad day, so far. It’s still early, though.
I recently read a book by Dr. Randy Woodley, (Cherokee), about Indigenous theology and Western worldviews. It was a good read. One of the things that struck me was how he wrote about the traditions of passing on wisdom and stories in the two different worlds. It was a discussion about oral tradition and the written word. For those who’ve read anything that I’ve shared on this here blog thingy know, Words are a big deal with me. Words are not just powerful. They are Power, itself. Ancient people knew this well. Remember that story in Genesis in the Hebrew Bible? “God said,” and “it was so.” Stories like that create identity, if not actual worlds. Indigenous people all over the world have their own identity stories that help to explain their existence in the world. For some Native Americans, the story of how Turtle Island came to be is one such story. Although, there are different versions of the story depending on which Nation tells it, the gist is that the creatures of the earth had a large part in the creation myth. They had to work in order for their world to become real. Creator said that if they didn’t have a stake in the making of their world, they would not be grateful.
Other stories like the Sky Woman and her children gave meaning and purpose to the earliest people on this continent. These words were powerful in that they gave true identity and purpose to the people. They saw that because of Creator partnering with them, they had a vested interest in the care of the world. The earth and the cosmos around them were also part of Creator’s team to make sure that balance and life could continue. They utilized symbols and ceremony to reflect these living relationships. Wisdom and knowledge of how to live together and in the world was passed from generation to generation. The power of the stories created the living bond that stretched from age to age.
We in the West have diminished the power of words to what may be written on a piece of paper. We call those written words “binding.” That seems to me the exact opposite of the words of power that gave life and identity to all of those generations of Indigenous folks who came before us. We think that our way is the best way. All of those ‘Natives’ were nothing more than stone age hunter-gatherers before we arrived to show them the right way of things. Thank God for Us!
I could stop right there and let that thought sink in. But, I’m afraid that the thought may just bounce off and fall on the floor. We who think that our enlightened Western Way is the only way are guilty of the same arrogance that our forebears were. Our words and our laws make that true. Right? Just ask any lawyer or politician. The Rule of Law reigns supreme!
I said that words are Power. It’s true. Words have the power to bring life. Ask our Indigenous sisters and brothers and they will tell you. Words can also bring death. Our Western ideal is built on words like that. Words that kill are baked into Western culture.
I wonder if we can change that.
I wonder if we even care.

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New Beginnings; New Life

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A week ago my wife and I were trekking around Universal Orlando. She has just retired, and we decided to get away for a bit. Something we haven’t done in, oh, 40 some years. Jobs and family and stuff kept us pretty much at home except for the occasional weekend away. So, this trip was kinda special.
I took my laptop with me hoping to be able to write a bit about the trip while we there. Yeah, that didn’t happen. Besides not having any time to write, the wifi at the resort sucked big time. My computer is slow at the best of times. Add single bar wifi and, well, I could have sent letters via the USPS faster. So, that’s why I’ve been absent from here for a while.
Now, we’re home. It took until Wednesday to recuperate and get back to whatever this is that passes for normal. And, I use that term purposefully.

“Whatever this is that passes for normal.”

I retired from printing three years ago. That was at the beginning of Covid-19 and my time getting fixed up from colon cancer. Not the circumstances that I had thought would ring in the new life of “Formerly employed.” But, over the last three years I’ve tried to adjust and figure out that proverbial “New Normal.” (Spoiler alert: There’s nothing New or Normal about it. Just sayin’.) I have developed new routines and practices that help make sense of every day being Saturday. As time goes on, I’m adding some things to that in order to actually get stuff done. Like this blog.
Now, however, a new variable has been added to the mix. There are now TWO of us retired and trying to make sense of this life of non-employment. Life is never boring! I truly have no idea where the road will lead us. For sure, we want to travel a bit. I proved that I can still do the whole road trip thing. We drove to Orlando in 2 days. We drove home in 1. I’m encouraged that I can get us where we want to go, when we want to go. So, that’s good.
We also have the house that really needs some lovin’. All of those fixes and updates that have been set to the side all of these years are screaming at us for attention. There are walls to fix and paint, a roof that needs help, new windows to install, shutters to build, a garden to put in, and, of course, that grass that never stops growing. I don’t think that we’ll lack for stuff to do.
For me, besides all of the stuff that needs done, those things that my wife and I will work on together, there is the need to continue to study, think, and write. I lost way too much time while connected to the Fundagelical world. I am still trying to heal from what I would consider spiritual abuse. It wasn’t intentional, of course. While many would have viewed some of our early years as ‘cultic,’ there was no manipulation for malicious or self-serving ends by the leaders. They were, and still are, simply ignorant. That doesn’t lessen the damage done by that world.
So, I will continue to reflect, meditate, contemplate, study, and proclaim. I can do nothing else. If anyone is helped to find freedom from the chains that bind them to a false image of God and God’s people, then my work is a good thing. Besides, I find release and healing through this work as well.
Anyway, I just wanted to put something out there to let everyone know that I’m alive and kicking. I hope to reflect more on the whole retirement thing as we grow into it. I’ll also continue to attempt to speak truth to power as I see it.
If you have anything to suggest or comment on, please use the comments section at the end of this post. Perhaps, we can begin a dialog about things that will build us all up.

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Choose Life! Or, Not. It’s Up To You!

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This past Sunday I had the privilege to share from the pulpit at St. B’s. (Click here to see Facebook video of the service.) The lections for this week were difficult ones. They had to do with choosing life and death; prosperity and adversity. We read the part about divorce and anger in the Sermon on the Mount. Negative topics for many people.
I chose the passage form Deut. 30:15-20 where Moses and the elders of Israel challenged the people to choose between two ways. Would the nation of Israel follow the path that leads to life, prosperity, and security? Or, would they choose death, want, and destruction? “Choose today!” Moses commanded them.
On the face of things, this seems like, “Well, Duh!” Of course they would choose Life, Right? Who in their right mind would choose otherwise? “Lead on, Moses! We’re all with you! YAY!!!”
What most folks fail to read, though, is the part where Moses pretty much states that they will fail. And, fail miserably. He went so far as to say that they did not have hearts to know, eyes to see, nor ears to hear. In other words, after they had witnessed all that God had done with them and for them, they still would not get it at all.
A lot of folks walk around today thinking, “Whew! I’m glad that’s not me! I’m a believer and one of God’s special people. I would never make the wrong choices and wind up on God’s Naughty List! Yay, me!”
Oh, really???
Such ignorance and arrogance! When we say that God could never accept LGBT+ people, we’re exposing our arrogance. When we say that natural disasters happen because someone, (not us), sins or accepts sinfulness. When we sayt “if only we hadn’t taken prayer out of school everything would be made right” our ignorance of God shines like the noonday Sun.
Every single day we make choices that take us away from the Way of Life.
Every. Single. Day.
“Well, God leads me to believe that those people, (you fill in the blank of the latest ‘Out Group), are sinners and destined for Hell.”
No, God does NOT lead you there.
“But, the devil made me do it!” You’re not Flip Wilson. And, no the devil did NOT make you do anything.
The passage from Deuteronomy was pretty clear. Moses said, “YOU choose!
We are all Free Moral Agents. We choose our path. No one else chooses for us. Period. God certainly is not going to force our choices. God may attempt to influence our decisions. God will never coerce a decision. And, God will never punish anyone for making any decision. God did warn the Israelites about impending doom. Not because God was planning to use some punitive action against them. No! God sees the way and may warn about the consequences that are already present on any given course. God does not cause them. In fact, by warning the Israelites, God showed love for them. “Don’t go that way! Thar be Beasties!
Even when we choose the way that leads toward death, (and, Beasties!), God has already prepared a way for us to change direction and skip over to the path of Life. (This is something that I know personally. Lord knows I’ve chosen some horrendous paths to explore. I destroyed lives and broke relationships. Not good. You’ll need to take my word on that. I won’t detail anything. Mostly because anything that I may or may not have been active in is part and parcel of the Way of Humanity.)
For me, and for many others like me, God’s grace allowed me to change the way I followed and take the path of Life. That’s how God works. That’s Good News!
Not like the so-called good news that fundamentalists and evangelicals preach. Their good news is not good. They say that the path toward death is only averted by their proprietary formula, or better, sacred spell, that supposedly puts someone on the right path automatically. Without those magic words, people are doomed to some Medieval eternal punishment that is NEVER mentioned by God. In fact, even with the recitation of magic words, people still rush headlong along that path of curses and destruction. It’s how people are. So be it. Amen.
Still, God in God’s mercy and grace embraces us where we are when we listen to God’s voice. Then we see God as the Lover of the World who stoops into our reality, not worrying about the mud and the muck, and walks with us. Always, God leads with tenderness. Always.
Again, Good News.

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Words Are More Powerful Than You Think!

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Today is Thursday, February 9, 2023.
I mention this because on Sunday, February 12, 2023 I will be in the pulpit at St. Barnabas Church in Bay Village. I will have about 10 minutes to present a bunch of words to a large group of people who are expecting to hear Words For The Ages. I’m sure that they all come in high anticipation of some oracular pronouncement that will change the world and align the Earth with the Cosmic Graces of God. They arrive hungry for the wisdom of Solomon, himself. We who pontificate on the great mysteries of the Creator are expected to be authorities. We are, after all, experts on all things Spiritual! (Spoiler alert: we aren’t. We’re lucky we put our pants on with the fly in the front. That IS where it belongs, right?)
In our tradition a homily is a brief observation, usually on whatever Scripture lections are read that morning. It is not the main focus of our gathering. The Eucharist is that. But, that’s not to say that a homily is a useless appendage that has hung on for millenia. It isn’t.
What else it isn’t is an opportunity for some preacher to ramble on for an hour. I spent most of my adult life in one of those churches. We weren’t offered a “sermon.” No, we had “teachings.” Yeah, I guess that makes it more important. How can a person possibly know which group of people God hates unless they are taught? These men, they’re always men, rattle on and on. They pull proof texts out of their behinds to PROVE what God thinks, who God likes, and more importantly, how we are always RIGHT! Usually, the audience is lost after the first 5 minutes. They are thinking about the roast in the oven or who’s gonna win the Super Bowl, or something. These guys could take a lesson from the 10 minute homily. But, then, they couldn’t impress their flock with their ignorance.
No, I have a finite amount of time to make a point. A point that may enlighten or inspire. It could offer freedom to someone shackled in unbelief. It could simply make space for someone to smile. The homily is not a place to dazzle with brilliance, or like those other preachers I mentioned, baffle with bullshit. It is a place to offer hope and understanding. The words are words of welcome and peace.
There are places where words have other purposes. Words must be used in order to “speak truth to power.” They shine a spotlight on injustice and hatred. Words are Power for the Powerless.
There was a movie made in the 1970s. The story was about St. Francis of Assisi. If you’re interested, the title is “Brother Sun, Sister Moon.” Warning: it is a truly bad movie. The only thing good was the music by Donovan Leach. Take that for what it’s worth. In the movie the Francis responds to a friend’s offer of help with,
“Words, Bernardo. There was a time when I believed in words.”
The gist of that response was that words without action are simply empty air. Profound, right? Like I said, the best part was Donovan.
I do have to confess, there was a time when I believed that. In fact, from the time I joined the fundagelical world of faith, I was indoctrinated with the idea that actions are stronger than words. If our work did not match the faith that we professed with our mouths we were missing the mark by a wide margin.
Can I hear an Amen!
As I have gotten older, and become more of a writer, preacher, and teacher, I have come to see that as only partially accurate. At Best. Words are powerful. Word are active. Even the Scripture uses words to introduce people to the God Who loves us. Words create worlds and spawn change in human lives.
Words can also destroy and kill. They can be a combustible substance that sets the world on fire. Not believe in words, Frankie? Take a look around and you’ll see what words are capable of.
I handle words with the same care that I would handle nitro glycerin. I take my calling very seriously because I know that what I say is able to affect others. That’s why it’s Thursday, February 9, 2023 and I’m preparing to fill a 10 minutes slot of time this Sunday. I’m not even sure that this will be enough time to prepare properly.
But, I hope so.

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Happy Milestones and A New Friend

I have a new friend living with me. He gets to stay in my office on my desk. I’m sure that he will get on famously with Henrietta, Pickett, and Dobby. His brother, Gerald, used to live with us a lot of years ago. My wife picked Gerald up a couple days before we were married. That guy lived a lot of years and grew to about 8’! Eventually, though, he became compost. Cycle of life and all that. We haven’t named this one just yet. Maybe Gerald II, esq. That would be fun!
He, like Gerald before him, came to live with us at a momentous moment. Gerald was our first almost 47 years ago. (It doesn’t seem nearly that long. Besides, I can’t be that old!) This occasion is my wife’s birthday and her retirement. She is hanging up her stethoscope after 25 years in a neo-natal intensive care unit at one of our local hospitals. Twenty-five years of caring for the sickest and frailest of all humans. Many of these kids enter our world weighing in at a whopping 2 pounds! Some never get to go home.
Working in the NICU takes a special kind of person. The person must be focused and engaged all of the time. They have to be tender and hard at the same time. Not only to these nurses need to care for their young charges, they have to balance the fine line of dealing with doctors who don’t know half what they think they know. In these cases they truly have to be the patients’ advocate. Then there is the PR work that is necessary when talking to parents and other family. At some hospitals the parents are in no condition to care for their child. Nurses need to advocate for these children, also. Sometimes it’s hard to talk to a mother who will not get custody of her baby.
The hours on their feet, the all too infrequent trips to the lav, and many missed meals are only the physical stresses these folks need to manage. There are the hospital rules and policies that are really not employee friendly. Many times concern over this or that policy adds stress to stress. It’s truly no wonder many of these nursing professionals suffer physical injury and illness. Such is the role they choose to play. Oh, and for my wife, she has had to put up with me. No easy task.
I know that I painted this in rather stark terms. There are always the rewards of this work. When the child responds to treatment and begins to flourish. I have seen the pictures of children that my wife cared for, sometimes for months, who finally went home. The grateful mothers have sent pictures to my wife as these children turn 1, 2, or 5 years old. They are growing and learning and loving. This is the payoff for all of the difficulties that the doctors and nurses, respiratory therapists, social workers, and all of the staff receive.
And, it is enough.
So, after all of these years I say, “Happy Birthday!” and “Yay, You! It’s time to retire!”

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Dragons! I really like Dragons!

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I enjoy a good story as much as anyone. You know, “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away there lived a beautiful princess.” And, so the story moves on from that introduction to the problem. That can be a poison apple or a wicked stepmother. Or, it could be that the beautiful princess desperately wants to wear armor and carry a broad sword. She desires nothing less than to ride on on her white war horse and slay some great dragon that has been terrorizing the countryside. Of course, at this point the handsome young prince enters into the tale. His sole regard is to save the beautiful princess, get married, and live happily ever after. The End.
The best stories like this are when the beautiful princess knocks that arrogant prince right off of his horse and onto his pompous keester. She then rides off to slay that dragon alone. The New End.
I like these stories because they help to right many historic wrongs.
Wrong attitudes about princesses.
Wrong attitudes about princes.
Wrong attitudes about dragons! (Hey, even dragons need some lovin’!)
It seems that we humans have evolved in such a way that we need to be the best; the strongest; the most correct. We gotta get out there to prove to the princesses of the world that they really, really need a big, strong prince to save them from themselves. We must set them on the straight and narrow where everything is in its right place. Dragons, sadly, on the bottom. (Yeah! I really like dragons! Deal with it!)
This kind of stratified reality is something that most folks will go to great lengths to maintain. No one wants to be the one to step out of line and be the odd person out. We, as my Uncle Al used to say, “Gotta go with the flow.” I might agree with that as long as the flow is a class 5 rapid rushing to a waterfall. But, that’s me.
In our culture we tend to conform to what society says in the norm. Get a job. Find a mate. Raise a family. Oh, and make sure that your 401k is filling up nicely. We turn a blind eye to the players who seem to be the decision makers. In fact, if our political reality is any indication, we desperately want to get on the band wagon of those who seem to be the loudest and most cock-sure of themselves. These are the “winners.” No one wants to hang with the losers. Well, because they’re LOSERS! So, day after day, year after year, we follow. Always looking at who the popular trend-setter du jour is. When we get to our very own personal The End we look back and say, “Well, I got through that.”
I read, recently, where the Apostle Paul called what I just described living in the flesh. All that really means is that a person lives naturally. They follow their natural desires, inclinations, and appetites. They look to the powers that be for cues on what they should wear; eat; think. There is not much of a life in that. Eventually, The End. No credits. No postlude to inspire.
Paul also wrote about living a different way. He called this living in the Spirit. We can tell when someone is like this. They are like that princess kicking the prince to the curb so she can seek a greater purpose. They walk with confidence knowing that they are being their most genuine self. Perhaps, most importantly, they characterize something that is truly counter-cultural. They have love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
gentleness, self-control. For those paying attention, these are what the fruit of the Spirit looks like. Just like a ripe apple has a certain scent, a nice crispness, taste that is sweet and juicy, so folks who live their lives according to the Spirit can easily be identified by their own character that doesn’t warm up to the socially acceptable power-brokers or trend setters. They don’t follow people who are confident and assertive like a dog sniffing up the dog in front of them.
It’s not always the easiest thing to leave the prince sitting in the mud and horse-hockey. It takes a special kind of commitment to buck the system and forge a new path. But, no one said it would be easy.
Now, where’s that dragon?

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No Longer Working for the Other Guy

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It’s Monday. For us retired folks, that means it’s Saturday. Every day is Saturday. And, Saturday after Saturday can get old after a while. It would be so easy to get up late and have a cup of coffee with the morning news. Maybe do a couple chores. Then, of course, the obligatory afternoon nap. Then supper, the news, and bed time. There are variations on this depending on the season or where you live. You can throw in a round of golf before the nap. Or, maybe take up that yoga class that someone said would help with the aches and pains that seem to be getting far more frequent and severe. Yep, retirement. This is what I worked to achieve for those 50 years. This is the fruit of my labors.
Actually, it’s pretty underwhelming over all. When I was working for someone else there were always deadlines to be met. Everything ABSOLUTELY HAD TO GET DONE NOW! And, ERROR FREE! Every. Single. Time. This kept us active and on our toes. There was no time to sit back and chillax. Schedules don’t change. Even when they’re completely unrealistic.
Then, there was dealing with people who, well, let’s just say lacked. I remember after a meeting that I had been fairly expressive in my somewhat even-keeled demeanor. Actually, I had basically told someone that they were fucking crazy if they thought that what they wanted was going to get done. My boss took me aside afterwards to add a corrective to what I had said. I told him that I can’t help it. I just have a very low tolerance for ignorance. That didn’t fly too far. But, it kept me active and on my toes!
Even though I was working for the other guy for most of my waking hours, that didn’t change any of the responsibilities that I had after working hours. For a lot of years I spent every evening save on each week driving one child or the other to soccer practice. Or, we had teach conferences or band/choir concerts, drama club, or to this one’s or that’s friend’s house. I enjoyed all of that. It’s what makes parenting fun. I would not have traded any of that for the world. Then, there was band practice. I spent most of the 80’s and early 90’s either playing in bands or mixing sound. This took up what little time that I had after all of the aforementioned activities were done. Yep, this surely kept me active and on my toes.
All of those years on the move, keeping everyone happy, including me, are a happy memory now.
I’m retired. Every day is Saturday.
I think I’ll go take a nap.

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When Fish Rule the World

It’s Thursday. Since this is my blog I have made a Magisterial Decree that I would write something lighter than many of the other missives that I have graced the World Wide Web with.
So let it be written; So let it be done.
This morning as I was journaling, my mind drifted to something that’s been on every one’s minds. Well, maybe not the GOP. But, that’s a story for another time. That thing is the possibility of a Mass Extinction Event occurring in the not too distant future. (See, I told you it would be lighter subject matter!) What this event might look like is anyone’s guess. We can choose from Climate Change to Nuclear Devastation. There is always the possibility that a chunk of rock and ice from the outer reaches of the solar system could smash New York City. Or, just maybe the Earth herself will simply open up like she’s had enough and finish us off.
What isn’t discussed too often, though, is what might happen after such an event.
There have been 5 Mass Extinction Events over the course of the Earth’s existence. They have been caused by diverse conditions. From catastrophic climate swings to the big one that finished off the dinosaurs. That one, at the end of the Cretaceous Period, about 65 million years ago, reset the evolutionary trajectory of the world. The giants who ruled were reduced to stone and dust. Whereas, the small mammals who effectively hid, evolved into us. Pretty slick!
I wonder, though, what the next event will change. Will mammals survive? If the sun is hidden behind a layer of thick atmospheric gases, that seems unlikely. Other terrestrial critters my also find survival difficult.
What if the next evolutionary step takes place under the sea? What would the world look like at the end of another 65 million years of aquatic evolution? Rather than land based animals growing into humans again, what if our gilled and scaled friends became true Merple? A very advanced submarine life that became sentient. These creatures might learn how to control the vast currents of the oceans in ways that could control the climate around the world. Of course, by that time the land masses that we know would likely be different. The tectonic plates of the world slowly returning to some future version of Pangaea. So, the oceans would also look much different.
I know that some of you are thinking, “Wouldn’t it be more likely that the mammalian sea life that we know today would take the next step toward sentience? Not if the air breathers like dolphins and whale couldn’t continue to breathe a possibly toxic atmosphere. We must consider that.
No, I think fish make that leap.*
Now, what if two lines of evolution take place. A sea based one and a land based one. Would one serve the other? If, like I speculated, and enlightened civilization of Merple learned to control the currents, and therefore the climate, would they be regarded as gods? Creatures who could decide where the rain fell and the crops grew might be seen as divine. It wouldn’t be the first time that climate gods were worshiped.
But, we also need to consider the fact that the Merple can’t walk on land. Would that give the land-dwellers the upper hand? As we have witnessed in our run on the planet, land-dwellers can learn to travel on and under the oceans. Might that allow them to retaliate and control those in their coral castles under the water?
Or, would they learn to cooperate? The Merple helping the land-locked species by providing a suitable climate. And, the land-dwellers providing from the bounty of the land food and assistance with whatever needs the Merple might have.
I’d like to think that this would be the outcome. Species living in caring relationships knowing that they could harm the other at a moment’s notice. But, choosing not to.

*No, Q people. The reptilians don’t win. It’s the fish. Guaranteed.

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