When someone says "It's cold out there." they may not be talking about the frigid winter. The recent shooting in Arizona is one example of the harsh moral-weather. Somebody needs to do something. Could it be you and I who need to bring about that change?
Clearly one of the good-news stories of recent days has been Representative Gabriele Giffords remarkable survival, and, thusfar, incredible recovery from a point-blank attack that put a bullet through her brain. The good news, though, is clearly wrapped in darkness. Congresswoman Giffords was doing what she ought to have been doing--meeting her constituents--when she and twenty or so others were attacked by Jared Loughner.
As it should be, the public has reacted with outrage, but what do we do? Immediately proposals were offered that would provide our 535 lawmakers with Secret Service type protection. Some lawmakers have decided that they will carry guns in public settings. John Wayne, Clint Eastwood go to Washington. Other ideas involve metal detectors, and zones around public officials where guns aren't allowed. All of these proposals and others need to be considered on their merits, but we need to understand they really won't solve the problem. Rep. Bill Huizenga, Michigan, wisely observed ". . . we can't rely on Government fixes. We have to change people's hearts." (World Magazine, 1/29, p.8) I agree with the congressman. People like you and I are in charge of congressional security. Dads, Moms, teachers, preachers like me, Scout leaders and Little-League coaches, we are helping to build the kind of public climate that will result in greater danger, or more security for those who represent us.
When we look at the carnage in Arizona, let's not only look at the killer. There were those who held him down, took away his ammunition, used their bodies to shield others, and rendered assistance to the wounded.
Here is something to put on your resume. "Providing security for public officials."
It's STTA.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
Whose fault?
When something is wrong we always want someone or something to blame. The more wrong it is, the greater the desire for a scape-goat.
The blame-game has gone into hyper-drive this week. A guy walked into a crowd of people and shot a member of Congress, a Federal judge, and more than a dozen others. Everyone agrees that this is a horrendous deed, but whose fault is it. Accusations fire out from Tucson like a laser light show. I fear that the aim of the accusations has more to do with the prejudices of those making the accusations than a careful analysis of the facts.
- The gun-control lobby blames the ready availability of firearms, pointing to the fact that Arizona has few, if any, restrictions on carrying a concealed weapon.
- Others point to what they regard as the as the unacceptable level of vitriol (Have you noticed that those with whom we agree almost always sound less vitriolic than our opponents?) in our public discourse.
- The fact that Congresswoman Giffords had no Secret-Service type security has been offered as a reason for the tragedy.
- There was a breakdown in the mental-health safety-net, say advocates for the unstable.
My heart has gone out to the parents of the shooter. I don't know yet whether they are good parents or bad, but clearly the family is the first, and foremost, civilizing influence. - No doubt many of you can supply other possible causal factors.
The fact is there is an element of truth to everyone of the statements above. We live in a world profoundly marked by sin at every level. Romans 1:18-3:20 and Romans 7 point out that not only is sin out there, but in here. The Bible makes plain that each of us are responsible for our actions. Note Ezekiel 18:20, for example. We have to deal with the world in a realistic way. Unrestrained evil will triumph, in the short-term. The book of Proverbs gives a realistic model of imperfect moms and dads parenting fallen children in a sinful world. Romans 13 is one of the passages in the Bible that speaks of the need of an effective government to restrain evil.
Finding a boogey-man type explanation for the kind of tragedy that insults, hurts, and, in a sense, taints us all may make us feel better for a while, but it won't do anything to really help. More important than asking, "Who can I blame?" is being open to the query, "What can I do?"
It's STTA.
A cyber-friend of mine had some very good thoughts on the tragedy. Click here.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Run! Run!
I'm sure it was over a half century ago that I heard, and almost instantly learned the little rhyme, "Run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch me. I'm the gingerbread man." It's a fun little story to read. The rhythm, rhyme, repetition, and the imaginary scene of a cookie that can run and talk--and even more who says what just about all little girls and boys want to say, "I can outrun you."--makes the story one that little folk like. The little ditty could be filed under the heading of fable. I won't spoil the ending for you, in case you haven't read it, or forgot, but, let me simply say there is evil in the world that none of us can outrun.
Speaking of not being able to outrun something:
And, I'm not making this up, as Dave Barry says. Though the Gingerbread Man out ran the old-lady, her husband-farmer, and a whole bunch of farm animals, he couldn't escape the PC police. Last year in Lancashire County, England, schools were orderd to call the cookies (or "pudding," as the English call them) "Gingerbread Persons" ( World Magazine 12/18/10, p. 19) After all we wouldn't want to imply that little girls can't run as fast as their male counterparts.
Apparently, though, some folk in "Jolly Old . . ." said something like "This nonsense makes no sense at all, and insisted that the pastry get his manhood back. You'll be glad to know that you can, once again, ask for a Gingerbread Man in Lancashire without being eaten by the PC police.
I remember the popularization of "Ms," as a designation for a lady when you don't know her marital status or want to keep from offending a woman who doesn't want to be titled based on her marital status. (I sometimes use the designation in correspondence. It saves embarrassment and grief.) Maybe it is just my feeble mind, but I don't remember "animal rights" being a part of our public vocabulary forty years ago. It used to be that "green" was a color, and "gay" involved no closets or not asking or telling. Now we live in a time in which it is considered inappropriate to call people who do acts of terror "terrorists," and people from other lands who are in our country illegally, "illegal aliens."
I would be the first to admit that language and titles have been used to cause needless pain. I'm glad, for example, that the "N word" has been removed from responsible discourse. But the renaming of a cookie is an example of the attempts to steer our culture by hijacking the language. We ought not be mean, but when it is appropriate, when we have a legitimate opportunity to do so, we should resist these efforts.
In the same sense as humans, animals don't have rights. People have a responsibility to treat animals responsibly. Anything that blurs the gulf between a human life and that of an animal ought to be resisted. A person's choices in regard to sexual expression are not without moral content. Some forms of sex are wrong, others are right. Language should not be stripped of those distinctions. A dedication to gender-neutrality that requires the renaming of a lunchtime sweet ought to be called what it is--foolishness.
My thoroughly masculine hat is off to the people of Lancashire. If I ever visit there I hope I can enjoy a Gingerbread Man along with a spot of Tea.
It's STTA.
Speaking of not being able to outrun something:
And, I'm not making this up, as Dave Barry says. Though the Gingerbread Man out ran the old-lady, her husband-farmer, and a whole bunch of farm animals, he couldn't escape the PC police. Last year in Lancashire County, England, schools were orderd to call the cookies (or "pudding," as the English call them) "Gingerbread Persons" ( World Magazine 12/18/10, p. 19) After all we wouldn't want to imply that little girls can't run as fast as their male counterparts.
Apparently, though, some folk in "Jolly Old . . ." said something like "This nonsense makes no sense at all, and insisted that the pastry get his manhood back. You'll be glad to know that you can, once again, ask for a Gingerbread Man in Lancashire without being eaten by the PC police.
I remember the popularization of "Ms," as a designation for a lady when you don't know her marital status or want to keep from offending a woman who doesn't want to be titled based on her marital status. (I sometimes use the designation in correspondence. It saves embarrassment and grief.) Maybe it is just my feeble mind, but I don't remember "animal rights" being a part of our public vocabulary forty years ago. It used to be that "green" was a color, and "gay" involved no closets or not asking or telling. Now we live in a time in which it is considered inappropriate to call people who do acts of terror "terrorists," and people from other lands who are in our country illegally, "illegal aliens."
I would be the first to admit that language and titles have been used to cause needless pain. I'm glad, for example, that the "N word" has been removed from responsible discourse. But the renaming of a cookie is an example of the attempts to steer our culture by hijacking the language. We ought not be mean, but when it is appropriate, when we have a legitimate opportunity to do so, we should resist these efforts.
In the same sense as humans, animals don't have rights. People have a responsibility to treat animals responsibly. Anything that blurs the gulf between a human life and that of an animal ought to be resisted. A person's choices in regard to sexual expression are not without moral content. Some forms of sex are wrong, others are right. Language should not be stripped of those distinctions. A dedication to gender-neutrality that requires the renaming of a lunchtime sweet ought to be called what it is--foolishness.
My thoroughly masculine hat is off to the people of Lancashire. If I ever visit there I hope I can enjoy a Gingerbread Man along with a spot of Tea.
It's STTA.
Monday, January 10, 2011
The Kid misses another deadline:
For the second time it is too late for William Bonney, AKA Billy the Kid, to receive a pardon. The lore that surrounds the Arizona bad guy is that he killed twenty-one men, one for each of his years of life. The State of Arizona puts it an nine-still definitely in the "doesn't get along well with his playmates" category. At the end of 2010 Governor Bill Richardson, was considering a request to pardon Bonney for one of his murders. The petition mentioned a deal that was supposedly struck between the outlaw and the Territorial Governor, exchanging testimony in another trial for an annulment "of pending charges against him, including an indictment for murder in the 1878 shooting death of Sheriff William Brady." (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/40708782/ns/us_news-crime_and_courts/)
Obviously, the descendants of some involved with the outlaw-some fatally involved-were against any cleaning of the record for Bonney, who judging from his picture was also guilty of overeating and not ironing his clothing. (Though the records give another story, that he was of slight build and a nice dresser.)
At any rate it's too late now, for the second time. Governor Richardson left office at the end of 2010, and with his departure the possibility of a pardon for Billy the Kid ended. The more important deadline was July 14, 1881, when the outlaw was shot by Sheriff Pat Garrett. Prior to that date a pardon was available to the Kid. Others involved in the taking of human life, Moses, David, Paul had availed themselves of that pardon. In rather plain language the scripture spells out the deadline. ". . . it is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment (Hebrews 9:27). Put in a positive way, "Behold, now is "the acceptable time," behold, now is "the day of salvation." (2 Corinthians 6:2).
Don't let the deadline pass.
It's STTA.
Obviously, the descendants of some involved with the outlaw-some fatally involved-were against any cleaning of the record for Bonney, who judging from his picture was also guilty of overeating and not ironing his clothing. (Though the records give another story, that he was of slight build and a nice dresser.)
At any rate it's too late now, for the second time. Governor Richardson left office at the end of 2010, and with his departure the possibility of a pardon for Billy the Kid ended. The more important deadline was July 14, 1881, when the outlaw was shot by Sheriff Pat Garrett. Prior to that date a pardon was available to the Kid. Others involved in the taking of human life, Moses, David, Paul had availed themselves of that pardon. In rather plain language the scripture spells out the deadline. ". . . it is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment (Hebrews 9:27). Put in a positive way, "Behold, now is "the acceptable time," behold, now is "the day of salvation." (2 Corinthians 6:2).
Don't let the deadline pass.
It's STTA.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Don't Let Them Fly Solo:
My guess is it cost less than $5.00. From the looks of the truck parked nearby and the clothes the man and the boy were wearing, I conclude it wasn't THE present. I was out riding getting a little exercise. While cutting through a vacant parking lot I saw a boy--I'd guess about ten--and his dad flying an airplane. Not a high-end gas powered job, but what looked like a simple rubber-band powered craft.
I can pretty well imagine the conversation:
"Dad, let's go fly the plane Uncle Bob gave me."
At this point the father is calculating about how little time he has before he has to get back to work, and about the Christmas tree that has to be taken down and hauled away, etc. etc. He has a new putter he wants to try out and there is a bowl game on TV. It's just a flimsy rubber-band plane. . . ."
He responds wisely, though, "Sure, son, I know a great place just down the road.
When I rode by the plane was still in the little guy's hands. I don't know whether it flew or not. That really doesn't matter. Something else was getting off the ground on that winter day. Times with dad flying a cheap airplane, the snippets of conversation going and coming, maybe a stop for some ice-cream (the scene was in the south) on the way home, this is the stuff of life. Don't miss it.
It's STTA.
I can pretty well imagine the conversation:
"Dad, let's go fly the plane Uncle Bob gave me."
At this point the father is calculating about how little time he has before he has to get back to work, and about the Christmas tree that has to be taken down and hauled away, etc. etc. He has a new putter he wants to try out and there is a bowl game on TV. It's just a flimsy rubber-band plane. . . ."
He responds wisely, though, "Sure, son, I know a great place just down the road.
When I rode by the plane was still in the little guy's hands. I don't know whether it flew or not. That really doesn't matter. Something else was getting off the ground on that winter day. Times with dad flying a cheap airplane, the snippets of conversation going and coming, maybe a stop for some ice-cream (the scene was in the south) on the way home, this is the stuff of life. Don't miss it.
It's STTA.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
I figure there was a time when when, just in the course of everyday life, grandkids spent time on a regular basis with the gray-haired generation. Today it doesn't just happen. My wife and I are committed to make it happen. We are very glad that our sons and daughters-in-law are likewise purposeful about letting us be a part of their children's lives.
Some of you who have grandchildren who live a couple hour's drive away will have to forgive us if we don't act real sympathetic when you talk about how far away your grandchildren are. I'm not looking for sympathy, but going to see the kids involves a lot of windshield time for us. Whether the youngsters are across the ocean or next door, if we are going to have a worthwhile relationship with them it will take decided action. With Little League, texting friends, video games, soccer practice, and web-surfing, unless we determinedly inject ourselves into the lives of our children's children, other than being counted on for some money at Christmas and on birthdays, we won't have much of a place in the kids' lives.
The grandpas I know all say "Amen!" to Proverbs 17:6, "Grandchildren are the crown of old men," We need to be sure we work at Proverbs 13:22, "A good man leaves an inheritance to his children's children."
It is Kathy and my privilege to take each of our four older grandchildren out for breakfast, one at a time, this week. We have talked about life, relationships, the Lord, and where we go from here. It is one attempt to leave a worthwhile heritage.
Youngsters, those old folk have some wisdom that you very much need.
Parents, you will be wise to broker a relationship between the generation below and the one beyond you.
Grandparents, you can play shuffleboard and go on a cruise later. Plug into those precious grandchildren's lives.
It's STTA.
Some of you who have grandchildren who live a couple hour's drive away will have to forgive us if we don't act real sympathetic when you talk about how far away your grandchildren are. I'm not looking for sympathy, but going to see the kids involves a lot of windshield time for us. Whether the youngsters are across the ocean or next door, if we are going to have a worthwhile relationship with them it will take decided action. With Little League, texting friends, video games, soccer practice, and web-surfing, unless we determinedly inject ourselves into the lives of our children's children, other than being counted on for some money at Christmas and on birthdays, we won't have much of a place in the kids' lives.
The grandpas I know all say "Amen!" to Proverbs 17:6, "Grandchildren are the crown of old men," We need to be sure we work at Proverbs 13:22, "A good man leaves an inheritance to his children's children."
It is Kathy and my privilege to take each of our four older grandchildren out for breakfast, one at a time, this week. We have talked about life, relationships, the Lord, and where we go from here. It is one attempt to leave a worthwhile heritage.
Youngsters, those old folk have some wisdom that you very much need.
Parents, you will be wise to broker a relationship between the generation below and the one beyond you.
Grandparents, you can play shuffleboard and go on a cruise later. Plug into those precious grandchildren's lives.
It's STTA.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Time:
We were out on a lovely errand just a few minutes ago. My wife and I took our second oldest granddaughter out for breakfast on her birthday. Kathy and I agree with her step-mom--They are growing up too fast. We left the house early, because Madeline had to be back at school--a shorter-term indication that time is riding its winged chariot hard. Then the "Time-is-passing" Chorus kicked in on the way back. The yuletide leftovers--dead Christmas trees, cardboard boxes that had recently held Christmas treasures, wrapping paper and discarded decorations--with twinkle severely dimmed, were out on the curb waiting to be taken by a very un-holiday-ish truck to their final rest.
When asked what you are doing today, many of you will include "back to" as part of your answer.
In this brief interlude between our birth day and the time when a much fancier vehicle will take us to our special landfill, what do we hope to accomplish? Now that the gray of winter has replaced the sparkle of Christmas and the flash of New Year, we can't--we never should have--avoid the question any longer.
At this point you probably hope for something profound. If profundity is appropriate I hope you find it from someone "profounder" than me. I have nothing beyond "put on your boots, zip up your jacket, and get out there and do it. I am thoroughly convinced that for 99.999999% of us our impact in this world will not consist of any single major accomplishment, but an accumulation. The Biblical term is "faithfulness."
1 Corinthians 4:2 says, "Now, a person who is put in charge as a manager must be faithful. (NLT) Each of us, no matter how we spend our time from 9 to 5, has been put in charge of something, if nothing else we are managers of those 480 minutes--not to mention the rest of our days. Are we being worthy of the trust extended to us?
It's STTA.
When asked what you are doing today, many of you will include "back to" as part of your answer.
In this brief interlude between our birth day and the time when a much fancier vehicle will take us to our special landfill, what do we hope to accomplish? Now that the gray of winter has replaced the sparkle of Christmas and the flash of New Year, we can't--we never should have--avoid the question any longer.
At this point you probably hope for something profound. If profundity is appropriate I hope you find it from someone "profounder" than me. I have nothing beyond "put on your boots, zip up your jacket, and get out there and do it. I am thoroughly convinced that for 99.999999% of us our impact in this world will not consist of any single major accomplishment, but an accumulation. The Biblical term is "faithfulness."
1 Corinthians 4:2 says, "Now, a person who is put in charge as a manager must be faithful. (NLT) Each of us, no matter how we spend our time from 9 to 5, has been put in charge of something, if nothing else we are managers of those 480 minutes--not to mention the rest of our days. Are we being worthy of the trust extended to us?
It's STTA.
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