Sunday, March 17, 2013

THRIFT STORE JUDGEMENTS

I was in the thrift store rummaging through used books. There was an old paperback of Huck Finn. The cover was beat-up, pages were yellow and the edges were starting to crack. "Perfect," I thought. "All this for only a dime!"

As I searched for other literary treasures, a father walked in bringing four loud and disheveled children into the store. The oldest was a boy of about fourteen with curly blond hair and a foul mouth, spilling coarse words and insults in every aisle. His sister, about twelve, was making animal noises – loudly.

The two younger children played with everything in sight. Why didn't the father do anything? Why didn't he say anything? Should I tell the kids to behave? I angrily glanced at the two older children who paid no attention to me anyway.

When the nice lady behind the counter was counting up their clothing purchases, the father finally told the oldest boy to settle down. Too little too late I thought. It was more of a request than a demand.

After they left the store, one of the women volunteers said, "You have to admire foster parents. I couldn't handle all those kids."

Foster parents? They were not his kids after all.

After reviewing the scenario, I realized the man must have just taken in those children that very day. Their thrift store purchases indicated they brought little (if any) clothing with them into the man's home. Looking down at the tattered book in my hand, I tried to imagine what a foster parent would do with Huck Finn.

There was no way to know why the children were recently removed from their home. It was either abuse or neglect. And there I was judging this man as a bad father when actually he cared enough to accept someone else's unruly, unkempt kids into his home.

Ashamed of my quick judgment, I left, asking God to bless the man and the children.

"Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment" (John 7:24).

Thursday, March 7, 2013

BILL O'REILLY'S PASTORAL SIDE

Bill says, "be theological" for an hour!
Citing the downturn in American church attendance, the venerable churchman Bill O'Reilly tells Americans that, if we are not inclined to attend church or synagogue weekly, we should at least take an hour each week to "be theological."



Watch the video HERE (you must endure a 30 second ad).


Friday, February 22, 2013

MINDY McCREADY AND TELEVISED REHAB

Mindy McCready is gone.

It is foolish to hold Dr. Drew responsible, but her death forces us to again question the wisdom of getting sober on television.

Mindy McCready (1975 - 2013)
Malinda Gayle McCready grew up singing in her Pentecostal church in Florida since she was a toddler, and soon after high school left for Nashville to become a highly successful country music artist. But after a very public battle with alcohol and prescription drugs, and just weeks after her boyfriend committed suicide, the beautiful and talented singer with a megawatt smile killed herself. She left behind two young children.

Mindy was on Dr. Drew Pinsky's "Celebrity Rehab" TV show in 2009. Dr. Drew (as he likes to be called) is a licensed physician and nationally certified addiction specialist. He has treated alcoholics and addicts for over twenty years. Ordinarily, any addict would be so lucky to get a treatment specialist with his experience and credentials. But televised treatment is not so ordinary.

Like others, I naively assumed the whole rationale behind putting strung-out celebs on television was to create a weekly, hour-long public service announcement on the nightmares of addiction. Now I see the obvious. There's a lot of money in public pain.

Grocery store tabloids and gossipy TV shows have capitalized on celebrity suffering for years, but they're not physicians. We don't expect them to have the best interests of celebrities in mind because public humiliation is their job. We do, however, expect more from doctors.

Yes – Dr. Drew's famous (and infamous) clients all have managers who have given their nod, but can sinking stars really depend on agents and managers who've discovered another way to squeeze more out of their clients' failing careers?

Yes – these celebrity clients are paid well to be on the show, they're treated in a luxurious facility, and (we assume) they get another shot at rebooting their careers. But at what cost? All these perks are in exchange for the very public display of their failures, insanity, ineptitude, confusion, self-centeredness and self-imposed slavery.

Does rehab really work in a televised fishbowl?

Dr. Drew Pinsky
Public suffering has been on the TV menu since the 1950s. In what was likely the first "reality TV" show, the genial Jack Bailey regularly crowned one woman "Queen for a Day" when the audience voted her life story as the most pitifully heart-wrenching story compared to all the other female contestants who also had crippled children, leaky roofs, foreclosed mortgages and terminal illnesses.

Unlike the strung-out, fidgety clients on "Celebrity Rehab," the women on "Queen for a Day" had the luxury of fading into obscurity when their day was over. The whole premise of that show was to give post-war American housewives some feel-good escapism by watching real-life Cinderella stories.

Dr. Drew, however, targets a different kind of viewer.

"Celebrity Rehab" draws voyeuristic audiences who enjoy watching the self-destruction of the rich and famous through their wide-screen, hi-def keyholes with a fascination not unlike those who are captivated by the slow death of once powerful bulls by a matador's spears.

This is not entertainment. It is not education. It is public pain for profit.

Dr. Drew should know better.

----------------------------
Click here to find drug and alcohol treatment in your area.
Click here to find support groups in your area.
Click here for Mindy's website.
Click here for Mindy's music on Amazon.com

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

PROTESTING CHRISTIANS AND A RETIRING POPE

I'm not sure most people really know what "Protestant" means anymore.

When people speak of the "two major branches" of Christianity, they're usually referring to Catholics and Protestants. The Orthodox church is usually lumped with either Protestants or Catholics, depending on one's religious persuasion (i.e., if you're Catholic, then the Orthodox church is Protestant, but if you're Protestant, then the Orthodox church looks Catholic, except their church leaders can't afford the same colorful robes).

Sorting all Christians as we do into two basic groups, people have assumed that Protestants are just Christians who are not Catholic. That is, they are Christians who are permitted the use of birth control and are not expected to go to confession, count Rosary beads or use the term "father" for any man other than the one who raised them.

Protestants, however, are not merely non-Catholics. A Protestant is one who protests. Try this simple exercise. Pronounce the word "Protestant" in such a way as to sound similar to "persistent" or "contestant." Say, "pro-TEST-ant."

In other words, a Protestant is a "pro-TEST-ant" (lowercase "p") – a Christian who protests the authority of the Catholic church. In fact, protestants have been protesting for five hundred years (and it appears we're not giving up any time soon). You can read about it HERE, but the primary protests through history against the Catholic church (not the Catholic people) have involved abuse of powerreligion of fear, questionable theology, unaccountability, ecclesiastical arrogance, misuse of the financial contributions of millions of poor Catholics and many other issues.

THE POPE

With most protestants (i.e., pro-TEST-ants) I know, one of the primary protests concerns the Pope. The Pope may be just the kind of person you'd enjoy at dinner, chatting about international politics and classics of world literature, but it is not the person of the Pope that rankles us so -- it is the office.

It is all the pomp and circumstance of red velvet, white silk and gold-braided trim. It is the gilded throne upon which he sits and the opulence that surrounds the Vatican complex in Rome and extends to the all the silver and gold and Italian marble in all the Catholic cathedrals around the globe while innumberable Catholics themselves are malnourished and without shelter in developing countries that are too poverty-stricken to have a voice. This is what we protest, and we understand that many loyal Catholics have similar protests.

An important seed of the Protestant movement was planted when a German Catholic priest by the name of Martin Luther made a pilgrimage to the holy city of Rome. It was there that he saw the overindulgence of wealth on the part of the Catholic hierarchy, the lavishly luxurious buildings paid for by the continual flow of sacrificial contributions of poorer Catholics who gave what they could to buy their souls out of the fires of purgatory, as well as the souls of their loved ones. Gratefully, the theology of indulgences has faded into history, but the palatial memorials to Catholic power still remain, and this in the name of One who did not claim a pillow to lay his head.

We must not fail to recognize that the Catholic church does much for poverty-stricken people, but when critics see the gilded wealth of the papacy and the jewell-encrusted edifices worldwide it appears there is some kind of vast disconnect between the Vatican and the world's poorest.  Nor should we fail to recognize that these are not merely Protestant concerns, but that Catholics worldwide are also pleading for change and accountability.

JOSEPH ALOIS RATZINGER

Mr. Ratzinger is retiring, and I don't blame him. More commonly known as Pope Benedict XVI, his parents had named him Joseph Alois Ratzinger. He has served the Catholic church since 1951 (elected Pope in 2005), and after serious health concerns and waning strength, he considers it time to step aside and let someone else lead the global Catholic faith.

I truly wish him well. I have no problem with Mr. Ratzinger personally -- he seems to be a pleasant elderly German gentleman, and probably a capable leader to have achieved such a status. The concerns of most protestants is in how the man is revered (some would say "worshiped") by millions who seem to equate a loyalty to the Pope with loyalty to God himself. Protestants have difficulty with the luxuriantly royal treatment given a man who calls himself a "servant of Christ."

I still recall his visit to the US in April of 2008, and how he was greeted by our own President and the first family, as Catholic bishops, archbishops and cardinals paraded about in their finest red and white garments, trimmed in gold – clothing fit for the angels themselves. Every major news outlet covered his arrival. Switch from CNN to MSNBC to CBS to FOX NEWS to ABC and all one would see is the white robed and bejewelled, golden-crowned man sitting upon a throne with an approving smile as thousands of devotees paraded by and sang in his honor.

A twenty-one gun salute, a US military band in colorful eighteenth century costume, marching in perfect formation, with children waving "papal flags" like loyal patriots proudly flying their nations' colors to their national leader – this was his official American welcome. Catholics from all fifty states came to gaze at him, sing to him, play music for him or just catch a glimpse of him as he passed by in his shiny motorcade of black limousines.

JESUS AND THE POPE: COMPARING CROWNS

Watching the Pope on parade, I couldn't help but reflect on an event that happened 2000 years ago. There were indeed more luxurious forms of transportation available to Christ, but it was a humble, smelly donkey that Jesus used to enter Jerusalem for his royal arrival, his followers waving palm branches, shouting, "Hosanna to the King of Kings."

The only time Jesus wore the trappings of royalty is when cold-hearted executioners draped a scarlet robe upon his bleeding back and shoved a crown of thorns onto his scalp as they sarcastically cried, "Hail, king of the Jews," spitting upon him and beating him about the head. Christ did not seek pompous apparel, impressing audiences with an artificially regal appearance. Quite the opposite. As the prophet Isaiah has said, "He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him" (Isaiah 53:2).

The Pope, according to Catholic tradition, is the "Head of the Church," "Successor of the Prince of the Apostles," "Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church" and (the titles most offensive to protestant Christians) "His Holiness" and "Holy Father" (see Matt 6:9 and 23:9). Protestants will never understand the exalted titles given to a man who claims to represent the One who is "gentle and humble in heart" (Matt 11:29), the One who "did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant" (Phil 2:6-7).

And though Christ clearly said, "My kingdom is not of this world," the Pope, however, is considered the sovereign leader of "the Vatican" – a separate Catholic city-state, a nation with it's own laws, complex government, police force, national budget and foreign ambassadors.

I do indeed wish Mr. Ratzinger a happy retirement, and I believe it is due him. However, what Protestants would most like to see is the office of the Pope itself retired, and the wealth of the Catholic church be used for the people of the church not the hierarchy.

 
Jesus said, "For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted" (Matthew 23:12).

NOTE: Despite my "protests" with the office of the papacy and points of Catholic theology, I dearly love and respect all my Catholic friends, whose friendship I have always cherished.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

A SHAVE LIKE THANKSGIVING

I saw my friend, Audye, at the Plum Ridge care center this afternoon. Audye is an aging Baptist preacher who has no less than eleven stents in his heart, carefully and lovingly placed there over several years, to allow vital blood flow – or else he'd be gone long ago.

This afternoon Audye was sitting up in his wheelchair. He was perkier and pinker than a few days ago when he was bedridden with a scruffy short beard and mussed hair, mumbling one word answers to me and the nutritionist. But today he was clean shaven with his thick, well-groomed hair (I always envied his hair). I asked who gave him a shave, and I loved his answer.

His eyes widened and his smiled broadened and he began to go on about "this nice Christian Mexican girl. She was just amazing," Audye said.

Donna called while I was there, and he went on to tell his wife about the "tremendous" shave he received from the young lady. After a loving, dewy-eyed goodbye, he handed me the phone and told me how much he appreciated that young woman, and the bit of fellowship they had as she combed his unruly locks and gave him a good clean shave.

And this is the part I really love. "It was like Thanksgivin'," he said, in his deep Texan drawl (with his emphasis on "thanks").

After reading scripture to him from the sermon on the mount (Matt 6:25-34), and saying a prayer, I spoke to a cluster of nurses and CNAs in the hall, telling them how much Audye appreciated the young woman who gave him a shave. "Oh," said nurse Amanda. "That was Carla." They all smiled. "She's really nice. We'll be sure and tell her."

Somewhere in Klamath Falls, Oregon there's a Hispanic nursing home employee named Carla who made a shave feel like Thanksgiving to my friend Audye.

Thank you, Carla!

Saturday, February 9, 2013

SATURDAY MORNING

The house is quiet. Here at the table, pounding keys, reading digitized biblical commentaries, our border collie curls about my feet as I write something I hope is worthy to share Sunday morning. A hot mug (sweet and creamy) sits before me, steam tickling my face.

The sun cuts through the chill outside, blazing through every window. I'll have to get take the dogs out for a walk later. But don't say "walk" in front of them – yet.

Monday, February 4, 2013

BEGINNING MY RECOVERY

Though I cannot say I am deep into the land of recovery, I will say, however, that more than once I have casually entered bookstores just to hold the books in my hands, to feel their glossy covers and the soft breeze upon my cheek of pages flitting by, breathing in their subtle pulpy essence, and I have done all this without buying even a one of them. Yes, I understand that such close proximity is discouraged for those early on in recovery, but if I ever find myself truly weakening, my able sponsor (several years sober) is always as near as my cell phone.

HELPFUL RESOURCES:

Thomas Frognall Dibdin, D.D., Bibliomania; or Book-Madness: A Bibliographical Romance (London: Chatto & Windus, Piccadilly, 1809).

Nicholas A. Basbanes, A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1995).

"Bibliomania", Wikipedia.

FOR THOSE WHO HAVE "FALLEN OFF THE WAGON":
Abebooks.com
Half.com
Powell's City of Books