Beatitudes, Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Gratitude, Hope, Immigration, Neighbors, Politics, Poor People's Campaign, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

Enough

“I woke up this morning with my mind set on freedom…” The Justice Choir, Poor People’s Campaign

What a way to start the morning! I woke up early, left my sleeping wife and dogs, and took my coffee to the porch. A little cloud cover and a slight breeze made for an excellent morning to pray and meditate in the cool of the day.

Yesterday was the culmination of the last forty days of the Poor People’s Campaign, A National Call for Moral Revival. Fifty years ago this week, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. led the original Poor People’s Campaign to Washington D.C. I sat and listened to the livestream of the rally in Washington and became incredibly grateful for those that continue to work for justice, peace, and a better life for all people and not a select few.

I have to tell you about a news report about James Comey, the former FBI Director. It seems he was going to Dublin, Ireland on his book tour. Upon arrival he commented to his wife that they should tell the Irish immigration officials they were Canadian. They were ashamed to be Americans in the current world situation. I understand completely. I’m embarrassed by association, but I’m reminded by the Poor Peoples Campaign of the good, decent human beings who strive daily for social and economic equality and justice. They are what I always thought the country of my birth was about.

I’m grateful for the life God has granted me. I’m under no illusions about the advantages of my birth, my family, and even my home, especially when I compare my life to the majority of the world’s population. I live better than most and I know that’s a privilege and a blessing I’ve been given – even when we struggle with health and financial issues. My son, who doesn’t share my spiritual beliefs, asked me once if being poor meant that God thought less of poor folks. It’s a legitimate question. Watch a few minutes of most televangelists and it doesn’t take long to assume that you’re out of God’s favor if you aren’t blessed financially. According to them, you’re just not praying with the right heart. God is a cosmic Santa Claus and he’ll give you everything you ask for if you ask the right way and do the right things. It’s no wonder my son questions such a God! I would, too…

I know that humans have an innate ability to make a mess of things. I know from personal experience that I can be pretty good at creating havoc in my life and the community in general. I know that power, class, and social structures are created by fallible men and I can’t blame a loving Higher Power for their, or my place in the system. However, I am obligated by my relationship with the God of my understanding to speak out against economic and social injustice in the world. I guess that’s why I enjoyed the livestream so much. It touched my spirit and invited me to live and love better.

I’ve known poverty, both in the economic and the spiritual sense. Spiritually, my Higher Power calls me to poverty. In Matthew 5:3, Jesus said, “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and His rule”. The older versions of his sermon call it being “poor in spirit”. I couldn’t get out of the way until I had nowhere else to go. In recovery programs, it’s called ‘hitting bottom’. I was so poor spiritually that I had no way out of my predicament. If there’s anything to the ‘Prosperity Gospel’, it’s that when I finally recognize my spiritual poverty, I begin to experience God’s grace – and everything is grace – and what a prosperous life it is!

Economically, my wife and I have experienced ‘enough’. We live paycheck to paycheck but there’s always ‘enough’.  That’s what poor people ask for when the march in campaigns and hold rallies. That’s what they cry for when they ask for a return to morality – to live in a society of morals and values that don’t exclude them. Men and their institutions would have us believe in scarcity of resources, time, and money. Yet, God’s kingdom, His way of living, says there’s enough for all His kids. When the Poor People’s Campaign calls for a return to some semblance of morality they are saying ‘enough’ – not only is there enough wealth and resources to go around – they’re speaking to the morals and values we claim to hold dear. They are “speaking the truth to power”.

I’m filled with hope when I see people coming together to ask for ‘enough’ – enough food, enough healthcare, enough justice, enough economic and social equality – for everyone. I’m filled with hope when people take time out of their lives to stand together and try to do what’s right. I’m filled with hope that maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny chance that the world my grandchildren inherit will be a little better, that they’ll have ‘enough’.

It’s easy to become jaded when I peruse the news as is my daily habit. Then I read about things like the couple in California who started a Facebook campaign to raise $1500.00 to post bond for immigrant families separated by the injustice of Mr. Trump and his cronies. As of yesterday, NPR reported that they’ve raised nineteen million dollars. It’s the largest fundraiser ever on Facebook. Suddenly, I’m not quite as embarrassed by being from America. I’m reminded of Jesus’ admonition to, “Keep an open house; be generous with your lives”. Sometimes, we get it!

This morning I’m filled with hope. I’m so grateful. It’s such a blessing to have ‘enough’…

Christianity, Faith, Family, Gratitude, Marriage, Neighbors, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Trust, Uncategorized, Writing

Going Underground

I feel a little bit like Garrison Keillor sending you news from Lake Wobegone when I tell you about the porch, but I don’t think I’ll stop. I enjoy sharing the peace I find there. I hope it’s not too much information, but it’s my porch, my wandering thoughts, and my blog so here goes…

It’s back to being unseasonably warm here on the porch. We were blessed by a decent rain and cooler temperatures for a couple of days, but the heat has returned with a vengeance and it looks like the first full day of summer will top out at 100 degrees. Our dogs run outsider to bark at passers-by and then run back to lay down in front of the air conditioner vents. Even the squirrels seem to have slowed down with the heat…

Despite the warm morning, I sent quite a while with my lovely wife, discussing the comings and goings of the day. She tends to wake up before I do, which is early, and I usually turn on the news whilst going through my morning routine. It provides fodder for our coffee time on the porch, though some mornings we say nothing at all other than ‘good morning’. I never imagined I’d be so comfortable sitting with someone in complete silence, simply enjoying one another’s presence.

I’ve become a voracious reader since I started Thoughts From the Porch. I’ve encountered a fantastic community of other writers who share their thoughts and feelings, and in turn stir my own thinking. For that I’m truly grateful. One of the benefits of growing older is that I can pull books that I’ve already read a couple of times from my home library and re-read them like they are brand new (or almost brand new as I haven’t yet reached that stage of dementia…). One of my favorite writers is Brennan Manning. I’ve mentioned The Ragamuffin Gospel before, but he writes of deep spiritual insights in each of his books. I guess one can never cease writing of the love and grace of the Master…

One of his ideas kept ringing through my head this morning: the idea that perhaps the church should go underground once again. In the early days of Christianity there were no church buildings, only the occasional local synagogue and temples to the various gods worshipped by the Greco-Roman world. Early followers of Christ worshipped in various homes, often starting and ending their days together in prayer and worship. They’d then go about their day, usually along a path that often brought them in conflict with the rest of the culture.

There was something that identified them as ‘different’. I don’t think it was the same pious, self-righteousness that people tend to think of when they think of the ‘church’ today. I think it had more to do with the fact they followed a different Lord than the rest of the Empire. While the Roman Empire declared Caesar to be the ‘Son of God’, these people followed a different king. Their King offered a new commandment, one strange enough to the people around them to identify them as followers of Jesus.

Jesus said, “Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples – when they see the love you have for one another.” (John 14.34-35 The Message). Sometimes I wonder if it isn’t time to ‘go underground’ again, to meet quietly somewhere so that folks don’t identify Jesus followers with a building or a denomination. Rather, Christians would by identified by how they love one another. I kind of take Jesus at His word and that’s how I’d like to be known.

Sharing one’s faith is done by action and not by words. Dad used to tell me that words mean nothing until they’re put into action – “talking the talk instead of walking the walk”. Maybe that’s why churches receive such a bad rap sometimes – words and actions don’t always match up. I’m not sure I want to be identified with them…

Nobody is perfect. I get it. I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination and there are more times than not that my words don’t match up to my actions. Just ask my wife, my children or anyone who knows me (thank goodness the grandkids are still young enough to think I am…). I’m just another one of the Rabbi’s disciples and I still have a lot to learn. Maybe it is time to go underground, to become identifiable by how I love one others, instead of being associated with a building or self-righteous, often condemning view of non-Christians. I can’t help but think that it would either invite persecution for being ‘different’ or it would invite conversation about the Good News. I don’t know. Think about it. It’s just a thought…

Christianity, Faith, Family, Grief, Hope, Immigration, Neighbors, Politics, Prayer, Public Policy, Uncategorized

Father’s Day 2018

I didn’t spend very much time on the porch this morning, despite the fact it was much more pleasant than it has been lately. Rain came close enough from the south to make for a cool morning. A gentle breeze invited me to stay longer, but I couldn’t. My heart was heavy this morning and I simply needed to retire to my desk to write and journal.

Yesterday was Father’s Day and I want to extend a belated Father’s Day blessing to all fathers out there. I hope you were celebrated and appreciated by the one’s you love. I hope you were able to spend time with your kids, young and old, and enjoy time with family and friends. That wasn’t the case for everyone. Still, I wish a Happy Father’s Day to you all.

My wife got out of bed before I did and left the CBS Morning News on when she went to the porch. When I woke up a short while later, the very first thing I heard was a story about the separation of immigrant families along the southern border of our state. I’ve been following this story closely since it became public knowledge. The more I learn and see, the angrier I get. It’s wrong! It’s evil! I don’t see how anyone with any kind of moral code can remain silent about it!

If there’s anything good to come from such a policy, it’s the growing number of people who are outraged by it. In a culture of divisiveness, anger, and antagonism, it seems to be the one thing people can agree on. Maybe there’s hope for us yet…

I read articles where previous First Ladies, from both ends of the political spectrum, condemn Mr. Trump’s policy of family separation (it’s still impossible to use the words Trump and President in the same sentence without throwing up…). Politicians from both conservative and liberal leanings have equated his policy to Nazi practices and the internment of Japanese-American citizens during World War II.

I had the privilege of celebrating Father’s Day with my wife’s family yesterday while many fathers didn’t even get to see their families because of the corrupt rantings of men like Donald Trump and Jeff Sessions. They won’t even accept responsibility for their evil. They blame it on someone else. They are just doing their job – echoes of Nazi war criminals…

NPR reported the other day that one father had been voluntarily deported to avoid continued separation from his infant son. Four months later he’s still waiting for his son to be returned to him! Not only has the government failed to reunite him with his son, they’re not sure when or where that reunion can take place. I’m not even sure if they know where he is…

I was outraged by a Washington Post report of the long-term damage these kids (and their parents) will suffer as the result of these hateful political games. One pediatrician witnessed a two-year old girl constantly crying and slamming her little fists against the floor because she’s been kept from her mother who came here seeking asylum from neighborhood terror and domestic violence. Such scenes should spark outrage in others as well, regardless of their political leanings or views on immigration.

“As of Thursday, 11,432 migrant children are in the custody of the Department of Health and Human Services, up from 9,000 at the beginning of May. These numbers include minors who arrived at the border without a relative and children separated from their parents.

The policy so far has pushed shelters to their capacity. Administration officials had started making preparations to hold immigrant children on military bases. On Thursday, the Trump administration said it will house children in tents in the desert outside El Paso.” (Washington Post.com  June 17, 2018)

I’d like to believe that we, as a people, are better than this. I’d like to believe that we are better than to allow such behavior to go on unchallenged. Seeing the folks who spent their Father’s Day marching on the Texas border or attending rallies against this cruelty gives me hope. Maybe if enough people put aside their partisanship and simply act like human beings, we can effect change. I’d like to think so…

I understand the anger and frustration that led to the election of a man like Donald Trump. What surprises me is that, according to the most recent Gallup Poll, 42% of Americans still approve of him. I must admit that it scares me more than a little bit. Still, I hope that humanity wins out…

So, on this day after Father’s Day, my heart goes out to all the fathers who are separated from their children, especially because of the maliciousness and evil of morally bankrupt politicians. Please know that there are people with you in spirit who striving to do what’s right on your behalf. Be strong. Love and appreciate your families and know you’re loved and appreciated for wanting them to have a better life – just like most of us fathers. Happy Father’s Day…

Christianity, Communication, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Neighbors, Positive Thinking, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

“Won’t you be my neighbor?”

Another busy day lies in front of me so my time on the porch this morning has been extremely brief. Add to that the fact that it felt like I opened the oven door instead of the front door when I went out this morning and you’ll understand why I didn’t stay too long. I can only imagine how my son will feel as he just returned from Alaska late last night. Talk about temperature shock! It reminds me of a September camping trip I made to Colorado some years back. When I broke camp to come home it was 21 degrees outside. When I got back to Texas eleven and a half hours later it was 105 degrees. That’s the way it goes in North Texas…

 

Anyway… Despite the busy day ahead, I made up for the lack of time on the porch by lingering over my news and reader feeds this morning. I’m sure I’ll feel guilty for ineffective time management later, but I needed to feed my news addiction as well as follow my favorite writers and their blogs. The day just wouldn’t be the same without it.

 

I came across one article that really caught my eye. It was a commentary on Mr. Rogers, the beloved children’s show host who passed in 2003. I never was a fan of his show when I was younger. I don’t ever remember watching public television until well after I had outgrown shows like Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood and Sesame Street. By 1968, when Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood debuted, I was more interested in hanging out with my friends and declaring my adolescent independence. My sister, who is six years younger, was far more familiar with them than I. As I grew older, my knowledge of Mr. Rogers came from the comedy skits on Saturday Night Live or the Fireside Theater. When I finally had kids of my own, they weren’t very interested in public television. They preferred Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and the like when they did watch television. Most of the time they were outside being boys.

 

So, I didn’t take Mr. Rogers seriously until my grandkids introduced him to me. What I found was a man who simply loved people, especially children. There was a simple message, even to adults. I was listening to NPR the other day and heard an interview with the director of a new documentary about Fred Rogers. One of the things parents and children alike forget about him, is that he was an ordained Presbyterian minister. I didn’t know that he was ordained to specifically minister to children. He carried out his mission so well. I’m glad someone thought enough of him to produce a documentary. I can’t wait to see the movie.

 

I suppose it’s a bit ironic that I learned to appreciate a man who hosted a children’s show now that I’m in my fifties. Somehow, his simple message seems more real (and needed) than ever before. It reminds me of Robert Fulghum’s book, All I Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Maybe that’s why Jesus said we need to become like little children to enter the kingdom of God? The messages about trust, making good decisions, and trusting the adults who love us (and hence the One who loves us) seem even more important today than ever.

 

Richard Gunderman, in his commentary in The Conversation on June 8th of this year says, Rogers believed that the need to love and be loved was universal, and he sought to cultivate these capacities through every program, saying in a 2004 documentary hosted by actor Michael Keaton, one of his former stagehands, “You know, I think everybody longs to be loved, and longs to know that he or she is lovable. And consequently, the greatest thing we can do is to help somebody know they’re loved and capable of loving.” I can’t think of a better calling, a better way of living. I want to be like Mr. Rogers when I grow up…

 

Gunderman goes on to point out:

 

“In preaching love, Rogers wasn’t just attending to the moral character of his youthful audience. He believed that he was also promoting their health. As he said in 1979, “My whole approach in broadcasting has always been, ‘You are an important person just the way you are. You can make healthy decisions.’ Maybe I’m going on too long, but I just feel that anything that allows a person to be more active in the control of his or her life, in a healthy way, is important.”

Since Rogers’ death, evidence has mounted that he was on to something — namely, that love and kindness truly are healthful, and that people who express them regularly really do lead healthier lives. Simply put, people who are generous and volunteer their time for the benefit of others seem to be happier than those who don’t, and happy people tend to have fewer health complaints and live longer than those who are unhappy.”

I thought of all the people in my life. For the most part, they tend to have one thing in common: they tend to love others well. They seem to have this idea that the most important question one can ask in life is, ‘How can I help?’ They are loving, kind, and happy. Given the scientific discoveries about happiness and good health, most of them will be with me a while. At least, I hope so…

I sure would like to be a part of the neighborhood Mr. Rogers lived in. I guess I’ll just have to be a good neighbor here. I don’t own any of his trademark cardigan sweaters, but I can always ask, “Won’t you be my neighbor?”

Christianity, Citizenship, Class, Community, Concervatives, Culture, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Friendship, Generations, Gratitude, Neighbors, Politics, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Uncategorized, What Can I Do, Writing

Dinosaurs…

Today I was asked to repost this, and given the long list of things to do today, I’m grateful for the brevity required to put this up today. I wish all of you a wonderful and blessed day!

It’s raining today here in Fort Worth. It’s the kind of Spring rain I love: constant, but not too heavy, gently soaking the soil, and intensifying the vibrant greens of the trees beyond my porch. I’ll be picking strawberries this weekend! It’s the perfect morning for sitting here and simply enjoying the day. My thoughts stray and wander among the raindrops. All is well, except for the dogged determination of one little bugger that keeps asking me why good people do messed up things…

Many of you know that I tend to be a news junkie. It’s a habit I acquired in high school and college, long before the “24 Hour News Cycle” and the up-to-the minute “reporting” of the Internet. I was a student activist majoring in Political Science and had some pretty high ideals. I guess everyone thinks they can change the world when they’re young, but the reality of family, jobs, bills, and the often unfortunate drudgery of adult living hasn’t set in.

My motivations have changed over the years. I still watch the news (more than I should), it still drives me to some degree of activism and usually, insanity. The high ideals of my youth have come full circle. The difference today is in the lens that I view the world with. Today I see things differently because of my relationship with the God of my understanding. I’ve talked about that “lens” a lot. I apologize for any redundancy in my posts. Just think of a blind man suddenly seeing for the first time and maybe you’ll understand my obsession (one of the better ones that have dominated my life!) with visual clarity.

Seeing the world differently has enabled me to see all sides of the story. I say all sides because, as my friend Jim used to say, “There’s three sides to every story – yours, mine, and the truth”. I must confess that growing older, and hopefully a wee bit wiser, has helped broaden my vision as well. That’s probably why I understand “conservatives” better.

That being said, I hate political and social labels like conservative or liberal, Republican or Democrat, and socialist or libertarian. They seem to be ways of dismissing anyone who doesn’t agree with you. It’s just one more way we divide into “us versus them”. Moreover, they don’t really define who we are. Most, if not all, of us are not the labels we use to define one another.

I am not the labels you assign me, nor are you the labels I often find myself assigning to you. I still do that even though I know it’s not true for any of us. Changing one’s way of thinking is a difficult and most likely (for me anyway), an impossible task. It took a new relationship with a power greater than myself to transform my thinking and, more importantly, my actions. I’ve grown a little less judgmental as a result. My vision is beginning to clear.

I’ve come to re-prioritize my belief structure and activism. Things that seemed so important in my younger days have been put on the back burner, and more often than not, taken off the stove completely. Social justice and peace are fantastic things to work toward and my calling toward them hasn’t changed, but the locale has. I’m not going to change the world, but I am going to change my response to it. I probably won’t change my Senator’s vote (especially our Senators!), but the way I live may influence someone else to live a little more loving and kind right here in my neighborhood. I’m not going to impact Washington, D.C. but I am going to do things different right here in Fort Worth, Texas. I’m going to look beyond the labels and be a little kinder, courteous and, hopefully, a lot more accepting. Above all, if I’m to be labeled, I hope I’m thought of as one of those crazy followers of the Rabbi…

It’s a little easier to be an “us” today. There’s far less of “them’ today. I still have differences of opinion with people on political, social, and economic issues. Cultural differences are hard to get past at times. I continue for clarity, to see people as God sees them, and they become easier to understand. If the truth be known, becoming older has made it easier to understand people who want to “conserve” old ways of thinking and acting. Change is difficult at best…

When I came in from the porch, Margaret was watching old episodes of The Andy Griffith Show. I couldn’t help but think of how wonderful and idyllic a place like Mayberry would be. I know a lot of other people, at least Baby-Boomers like myself, who share in my feelings. Nostalgia, no matter how well-intentioned lacks any foundation. There never was a Mayberry. Even in the early sixties it was just a TV show. It may have mirrored a simpler time, but not reality. I grew up in the last few years of the Jim Crow South. I know. I still recall the resistance to civil rights and acceptance of horrors like Vietnam. The reality makes me wonder about one’s motivation toward conservatism. How can you” conserve” an illusion; something that never was?

I was meeting with a business mentor of mine a while back and he pointed out that I’m a dinosaur. I know he was referring to my lack of technological savvy (I can still create great content though!). I don’t need any reminders that I need to ask my grandchildren for technical support sometimes but, if I’m honest, I am a dinosaur and I’m okay with that. There are times I wish we lacked some of the communication, informational and mis-informational ability in our world today. Just because you saw it on the Internet doesn’t make it true, if you know what I mean. There’s enough crap out there to cement anyone’s convictions – real or imagined.

I have a long, long way to go in my journey toward the kingdom where God’s will “is done on earth as it is in heaven”. My experience is one that tells me to move forward down the path and don’t look back. I’ve made my fair share of detours and walked in a lot of circles. The cool thing is that you have, too. We’re far more alike than either of us would like to admit. Maybe we can set aside the labels, lending a helping hand and try to figure out how to help navigate to wherever both of us are headed…