It is still unclear to me how we moved from the current cultural discord to the taking down all the Confederate statues. I guess last weekend when I took a sabbatical from the news and the world the argument shifted to these symbols that represented a fairly short period time in the human experiment. And the arguments are compelling on both sides; the statues represent oppression and slavery, and/or they represent our slice of our cultural history. Who decides to take them down? And the argument rages on.
This morning in the midst of my disciplines I was trying to focus on something else, but the prompting to think about this cultural argument kept cropping up and disrupting what I had planned to do. If you have spent time in meditation and reflection you know how annoying this can be. Finally I gave up and simply let my mind wander and wonder about all this.
There was finally a moment of clarity when I decided that all the monuments should come down. Although I had a great grandfather who fought with the confederacy, I realized that I had no allegiance to the statues. My historical family was comprised of people who apparently found it easier (and more fun?) to have a bunch of kids to do the back breaking work of farming. So we owned no slaves. So why should I care about the statues? It was a bit disconcerting to realize how many Confederate memorials there are in north Texas. You know why it surprised me? Because I had never visited a single one.
And while we are at it, lets take down the 10 Commandment monuments as well. They do not represent me. At no time in my life have I lived under the Law. It was written to about 4 million ragtag Hebrew slaves because they couldn't get along with each other, or their leaders, or their god. My tribe claims to have moved beyond these symbols of times gone by. Why should I or any of us find reason to argue over a monument?
But the explanations above do not reflect what I think is important. What is important is that we find a way to coexist in a reasonable and charitable manner. Will the tearing down of these monuments and statues help us find a place of reasonable dialog? Can we best show accommodation by arguing or lending a hand in taking down something that is offensive to someone else? How can we show people we desire relationship with each other over winning and argument? In my opinion when we value statues over people we have turned them from statues to idols. And the history of my worldview is a constant reminder against that very thing.
The arguments against what I have said above is already exploding in some heads. "But they will just keep taking and taking and taking!!"
Probably. But here is the key; they can't take more than we can give. Think about that. At some point they will be satiated in their anger, and we will still have more to give them.
There is a final issue from my thoughts this morning. We are making history now. What monument or statue can we raise so that the generations behind us can look at them for inspiration, for guidance, for reassurance? What is our legacy? Hatred? Strife? Violence? Vitriol?
Or can it be compassion, accommodation, truth, mercy, tolerance?
Godspeed to the peacemakers, for you will be called Children of God. A God of peace and compassion.
Don
Friday, August 18, 2017
Tuesday, August 15, 2017
Voice of Reason
Over the weekend I worked alone at our place called The Patch. No radio, no TV, no FB. My phone stayed on so I could talk to my bride and text with our kids and friends. But other than that I was isolated and intentionally alone.
This post began to brew over a year ago with the ambush of the police officers in Dallas. But there have been almost daily events since then that have brought the question to my mind over and over. In this time frame our country seems to have hit a new level of hatred and violence and intolerance. On all sides. People hurt, people killed, all sides hate and loath the other side. Rhetoric is gaining vitriol as never before. And the blame is being spread across the entire culture. It simply does not matter which side you are on, you will have some of the blame splashed across you. It's Trump's fault, no it's BLM fault, no it's Alt-right fault, no, no, no.
And in this moment where are the voices of reason? Where are the men and women of higher calling to point us upward and outward? Where are those who will call us to be our best selves? It seems we had some of those in our history.
JFK "If we cannot now end our differences, at least we can make a world safe for diversity." "
MLK "We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies."
Abraham Lincoln "Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"
Dietrich Bonhoeffer "The ultimate test of a moral society is the kind of world it leaves it children."
And as I look back across this list of men with higher expectations I realize that each died at the hands of those who most fiercely hated. Is it our DNA and destiny that we ignore the voices of reason? Is the voice of reason only heard in the aftermath of the destruction? Will we only listen when all else has failed? When we have shed enough blood on both sides? When we have ignored our noble being to destroy those who disagree?
If there was a guarantee that out of the debris of destruction that man's nobler side would emerge, then I would encourage the final destruction so my grandkids and their kids could live in a world where words like mercy, compassion, integrity, moral strength, helpfulness and honor would be the defining words of the culture. Sadly our history does not point to that sort of redemption. Our history points to a continual spiral towards hate and sectarianism, bloodshed and oppression. The good old days were no more forgiving than the new old days.
Perhaps there is not a national stage in which the voice of reason can be heard. No one is listening. So perhaps the voice of reason is spoken quietly, at bedtime into the ears and the minds of those we are chartered to mature. Maybe somewhere in those still moments of bedtime we can whisper the words of wisdom, be the voice of reason in a world gone mad. Frankly, I see no other venue. Schools are a battle zone, churches are politically co-opted, government can no longer govern because of partisanship. Home is the last moment of sanity. And the true moral disgrace is to fill those young heads full of the same hate and bigotry and violence that our culture seems so fond of. Perhaps the voice of reason that I long for is simply my voice, spoken quietly to the ones who will listen.
Godspeed to you young parents. It is my hope and prayer that you will be a stronger voice of reason than my generation ever was.
Don
This post began to brew over a year ago with the ambush of the police officers in Dallas. But there have been almost daily events since then that have brought the question to my mind over and over. In this time frame our country seems to have hit a new level of hatred and violence and intolerance. On all sides. People hurt, people killed, all sides hate and loath the other side. Rhetoric is gaining vitriol as never before. And the blame is being spread across the entire culture. It simply does not matter which side you are on, you will have some of the blame splashed across you. It's Trump's fault, no it's BLM fault, no it's Alt-right fault, no, no, no.
And in this moment where are the voices of reason? Where are the men and women of higher calling to point us upward and outward? Where are those who will call us to be our best selves? It seems we had some of those in our history.
JFK "If we cannot now end our differences, at least we can make a world safe for diversity." "
MLK "We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies."
Abraham Lincoln "Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"
Dietrich Bonhoeffer "The ultimate test of a moral society is the kind of world it leaves it children."
And as I look back across this list of men with higher expectations I realize that each died at the hands of those who most fiercely hated. Is it our DNA and destiny that we ignore the voices of reason? Is the voice of reason only heard in the aftermath of the destruction? Will we only listen when all else has failed? When we have shed enough blood on both sides? When we have ignored our noble being to destroy those who disagree?
If there was a guarantee that out of the debris of destruction that man's nobler side would emerge, then I would encourage the final destruction so my grandkids and their kids could live in a world where words like mercy, compassion, integrity, moral strength, helpfulness and honor would be the defining words of the culture. Sadly our history does not point to that sort of redemption. Our history points to a continual spiral towards hate and sectarianism, bloodshed and oppression. The good old days were no more forgiving than the new old days.
Perhaps there is not a national stage in which the voice of reason can be heard. No one is listening. So perhaps the voice of reason is spoken quietly, at bedtime into the ears and the minds of those we are chartered to mature. Maybe somewhere in those still moments of bedtime we can whisper the words of wisdom, be the voice of reason in a world gone mad. Frankly, I see no other venue. Schools are a battle zone, churches are politically co-opted, government can no longer govern because of partisanship. Home is the last moment of sanity. And the true moral disgrace is to fill those young heads full of the same hate and bigotry and violence that our culture seems so fond of. Perhaps the voice of reason that I long for is simply my voice, spoken quietly to the ones who will listen.
Godspeed to you young parents. It is my hope and prayer that you will be a stronger voice of reason than my generation ever was.
Don
Monday, August 14, 2017
Wind and Rain
This past weekend my bride headed to Lubbock for a wedding shower, leaving me to my own devices here at the Patch. For months I have been stripping the limbs from the juniper and cedar logs (saving the logs) and building several burn piles. These burn piles burn fast and hot. So I have to wait until everything is soaked from rain and a calm day before I set one ablaze. The lesson here is that levelheaded wives should not leave their husbands at home all weekend with a lighter, a can of kerosene, and a burn pile. The temptation is simply too great.
The pile will burn down to just the stumps in about 9 minutes. Nothing survives within a 40' radius for those first 9 minutes. The BTU's from cedar is off the charts. But after the 9 minutes it down to just the stumps and the root balls of dirt they are attached to. These normally will smolder for days.
But Saturday, at almost dusk another small thunderstorm blew through. If you know anything about Texas summer thunderstorms they are rush in with a high wind, blow horizontal rain for about 30 minutes, light up the sky with numerous lightening strikes which also cause almost a continual roll of thunder. One lightening strike was so bright, with the instant boom that I felt the compression in my chest and wondered if it had hit somewhere in the Patch and I just didn't see it.
Here is what I noticed. As I watched, the stumps that I thought had burned down began to glow a fierce and bright hot red. The wind continued to whip across those burning stumps and even fanned alive flames that had been dormant for most of the day. My incredulity grew as I realized that the rain was having no effect at all on the renewed flames! The wind was creating the fuel needed to burn brighter and brighter in the face of the rain that should have been destroying the fire once and for all. I had never seen this before. Rain always triumphs over the fire, or so I thought. But this fire had the ally of the wind, even though the rain rode on the shoulders of the wind, it could not extinguish the fire.
So my mind began to reorganize the events of the fire and of my life. The flame sometimes lies dormant waiting on the wind to refuel the fire. But the wind also brings rain. I realized that what I expect when the wind freshens and I experience some renewal of the fire within, that the rain will stay away. Not so. I think the rain comes, but is ineffective because the wind carries the very thing needed to renew. And while the wind may cause the stumps to be consumed faster, it seemed like a good trade. To have the fire hot and fresh rather than smoldering and hidden. The stumps were still hot to the touch 2 days later.
There are several analogies to found here and I will let you find your own. It still amazes me when the Creator chooses to show me something from His own hand. He has decided there is still fire here that needs to be bright and hot, at least for a time.
Godspeed to those out there looking to rekindle a smoldering spark. The wind will come, it will bring some rain, but the renewal will be a life, a fire of significance.
Don
The pile will burn down to just the stumps in about 9 minutes. Nothing survives within a 40' radius for those first 9 minutes. The BTU's from cedar is off the charts. But after the 9 minutes it down to just the stumps and the root balls of dirt they are attached to. These normally will smolder for days.
But Saturday, at almost dusk another small thunderstorm blew through. If you know anything about Texas summer thunderstorms they are rush in with a high wind, blow horizontal rain for about 30 minutes, light up the sky with numerous lightening strikes which also cause almost a continual roll of thunder. One lightening strike was so bright, with the instant boom that I felt the compression in my chest and wondered if it had hit somewhere in the Patch and I just didn't see it.
Here is what I noticed. As I watched, the stumps that I thought had burned down began to glow a fierce and bright hot red. The wind continued to whip across those burning stumps and even fanned alive flames that had been dormant for most of the day. My incredulity grew as I realized that the rain was having no effect at all on the renewed flames! The wind was creating the fuel needed to burn brighter and brighter in the face of the rain that should have been destroying the fire once and for all. I had never seen this before. Rain always triumphs over the fire, or so I thought. But this fire had the ally of the wind, even though the rain rode on the shoulders of the wind, it could not extinguish the fire.
So my mind began to reorganize the events of the fire and of my life. The flame sometimes lies dormant waiting on the wind to refuel the fire. But the wind also brings rain. I realized that what I expect when the wind freshens and I experience some renewal of the fire within, that the rain will stay away. Not so. I think the rain comes, but is ineffective because the wind carries the very thing needed to renew. And while the wind may cause the stumps to be consumed faster, it seemed like a good trade. To have the fire hot and fresh rather than smoldering and hidden. The stumps were still hot to the touch 2 days later.
There are several analogies to found here and I will let you find your own. It still amazes me when the Creator chooses to show me something from His own hand. He has decided there is still fire here that needs to be bright and hot, at least for a time.
Godspeed to those out there looking to rekindle a smoldering spark. The wind will come, it will bring some rain, but the renewal will be a life, a fire of significance.
Don
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