Riches and Poverty: From Palestine to Haiti

And He sat down opposite the treasury, and began observing how the people were putting money into the treasury; and many rich people were putting in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which amount to a cent. Calling His disciples to Him, He said to them, “Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the contributors to the treasury; for they all put in out of their surplus, but she, out of her poverty, put in all she owned, all she had to live on.” (Mark 12:41-44 NASB)

One thing that is striking about this passage is that Jesus makes a completely unexpected valuation. Bypassing the (relatively) large donations of those with disposable income, He highlights the poor, anonymous, insignificant person who gives sacrificially out of loving devotion – not out of ostentatious excess.

I love the fact that Jesus notices what matters. What folly for us to measure ourselves by our wallets! Jesus sees right through all that and gazes at the heart.

Here in Haiti, the poverty is immense. Yet there are many Haitian people who are cheerful and kind givers. And while those of us who come over from a first-world country are relatively wealthy, when you view the vast need, you truly feel like the poor widow, about to cast a penny into a vast landscape of brokenness.

We are all impoverished before God, especially in anything relating to spiritual life and genuine holiness. My comfort is, that in any place, any circumstance, we can take our tiny little donations of ourselves – poor as we are – and God will receive us. Not only in Haiti, but in any pathway we all find ourselves today.

May the poverty out of which we give lead to true riches for others.

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Social Claustrophobia

I never have liked parties.

I’m a one-on-one or small-group kinda guy. Big, loud, milling groups of people – not so much. Yelling to be heard over loud music and other yelling people – ugh.

At a couple of social gatherings this past week, I found myself in the social mosh pit, yelling conversationally as I tried, in vain, to find some sort of comfort zone. My 3 least favorite social adjectives were in play – loud, dark, and crowded! In each case, the solution was simple – find a quiet table somewhere and just talk to two or three while ignoring the chaos.

Next weekend is another high school reunion. I do enjoy seeing my old pals – though this whole aging thing is starting to wear out its welcome – but in past reunions, we’ve had DJs who thought the gathering was all about them, to the tune of 1,659 decibels of classic 70′s rock (note to DJs – I’m not there to get reacquainted with Peter Frampton. Can do that via iTunes…). Screaming at old friends across the table added auditory insult to aging injury. And, of course, this year the reunion falls on Berlin Fair weekend, so I plan to go there for old time’s sake and experience – what? Loud, milling crowds of people I don’t know. What am I thinking?

Even back in high school I had a measure of social claustrophobia, always avoiding the party scene. I guess some things never change…

I think reunions and parties would be much more enjoyable in a backyard with a grill, comfortable chairs, Sam Adams on ice, and lots of places to really talk. But that’s just me. Do you like the party scene, or do you prefer more intimate settings?

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White Mountains (NH) Vista

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Failure, or Fail-er?

Some words are pretty innocuous, and don’t create a lot of heart-reaction.

Dish, for instance. Or paper. Or flagellum (except for certain research scientists, perhaps, or microbiology majors studying for a final exam).

But “failure” comes with a lot of emotional baggage. It is freighted with meaning, usually negative, and often speckled with the unique memories of individual stumbles of the past, best left undisturbed under layers of busy forgetfulness.

Who wants to dwell on failure? Some, however, compulsively cannot stop doing so. Failure is the elevator speech of their soul. Maybe not outwardly. But inwardly, the monologue goes like this: You’re a failure. You’re a failure. You’re a failure. A bit short on eloquence, I’ll grant. But long on effectiveness. Wear it with…humiliation, like a black t-shirt that refuses to come off.

“Failure” can be a useful term, when viewed through the correct lens. But it can also be a deadly cataract, a slayer of personal ambition and esteem, when it infuses the cornea of its wearer with dark shades that distort and dim the entire landscape. The optometrist can fix up nearsightedness with a corrective prescription. But this kind of emotional astigmatism needs a different treatment plan.

“That was a failure” can be a learning moment. When the thought of the heart is “I am a failure” – that’s when you’re in the danger zone. The trick is to openly acknowledge the one, while not slipping down the slope into the other. “I failed at _____ this time” might lead to a little laceration above the eye. “I’m a loser” is the knockout punch.

No-one escapes failure. If you’re not failing at something, then you’re not trying. Our little ones “fail” constantly as they learn to take their first steps, but we don’t consider them failures – we know that each failure gets her closer to success. So why would our mistakes and failings make us failures? If we’re not good at one thing at one time, does that mean we’re no good…period?

That attractive, successful, vivacious person you wish you were like? That person fails miserably, in many ways – you just don’t see it through the idealized and envious glasses you’ve put on. But sometimes, those very people who seem to have it all are haunted by an inner conviction that they are utter failures. Like a gnawing cancer, that deep and dangerous conviction chews at the soul, magnifying each little individual stumble into yet another prosecutor on the bench, spilling out the evidence that you are not merely human, but an absolute fraud. That’s not sound judgment or conscience speaking. It’s Cupid’s alter ego, firing hateful arrows from a never-empty quiver.

Then life becomes about one of two things. Shrinking back into despair. Or driving forward against the emotional tidal wave to prove yourself. In both cases, however, the engine that drives it is not, “I failed at something – now what can I learn?” It’s not, “How can I make this right?” It’s far more insidious. “See – I’m just a failure.”

Failure. Roll the word over in your mind – doesn’t it have an inescapable finality about it? And isn’t it, when you step back a bit, kind of a stupid nickname to give yourself? With all the unique gifts and abilities you possess, all the good you can do for the people around you – to wallow around in self-accusing misery is to create a self-fulfilling prophecy. Because then you won’t feel like getting up again.

How do we still that voice? Here’s a suggestion, which you might want to try out this week. Just alter the word a bit – a little tiny bit, hopefully staying under the radar of our word police. “I’m a fail-er.” Just drop the accusing “you” from the pronunciation, and suddenly, it really doesn’t sound so bad. In fact, it sounds a lot like being just another member of the human race. A fail-er. A fail-er can get up again and keep going, because…well, that’s what we do, from infancy on. Fail. Learn. Move forward.

I’m a fail-er, then. Hmmmmm – that sounds kind of…normal, all of a sudden. Might not even hesitate to wear it on a t-shirt, with that little spelling switcheroo. So what do you think – which word describes you? Are you a Failure, or a Fail-er?

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The Original Church Scandal: Outcasts Welcome

Preparing for a Sunday School lesson this morning (continuing on in the lives of Abraham/Isaac/Jacob), I was struck by an expression of a “caste” system at play, when the tribe of Israel headed down to Egypt during a terrible famine in the land.

Joseph had paved the way for his family to come and settle in Egypt, where he had wisely prepared for the famine by storing up huge stocks of grain during years of plenty. The plan was to settle the livestock-keeping Israelites in the land of Goshen, which apparently would isolate them somewhat from the native population, because “shepherds were loathsome to the Egyptians.”

In the sociological/religious milieu of Egypt, there was apparently a disdain for certain occupations. A caste system. And those that kept lifestock were on a lower rung. Ironically, this served to keep the Israelites from inter-mingling and inter-marrying with the Egyptians, which in the greater scheme of things at this time in redemptive history, was a good thing.

These caste systems still exist all over the world, in official (India) or unofficial forms. We tend to stratify by external similarities or differences, be they skin color, nationality, occupation, religious affiliation, dress, wealth, or the like. Some of that is natural and unavoidable, but the unsavory accompaniment is the sense of superiority that almost inevitably joins the occasion. The hierarchy. Even well-intentioned “diversity” programs, as valuable as the intentions may be, cannot defuse the pride that reigns in the human heart. Some even pride themselves on their commitment to diversity, putting themselves a strata above those perceived as less-enlightened beings – and the cycle continues on in its ever-morphing forms.

Last week, when in Austin, TX for the SxSW Interactive conference, I did some research on-line and decided to go to a church that I’d never heard of before, but which intrigued me. Why? Because of its professed adherence to beliefs I hold dear, yes. But also, because it was a community formed by the merger of 2 churches, with a very rich diversity of nationalities and races. I saw a microcosm of the global population that morning. And I had a delightful talk with a member there who freely shared his struggles getting to the place of accepting the goodness of that diversity.

And this underscores one of the original “scandals” of the Christian church at its launch 2,000 years ago. It was birthed out of a Jewish nation that had been taught – incessantly and out of necessity – to keep separate from the “outside world”, full of pagan beliefs and practices that could corrupt the nation. The history of that nation, outlined from the ancient books of Genesis->Malachi, show exactly why – it was an endless struggle for survival with nations and tribes that viewed them as on the lower rungs of humanity, while their spiritual identity was to retain a position on the highest rung of belief and holiness.

Then the training wheels came off. It was time to leave the caste system of separation by nationality and physical descendancy, and embrace a radical new foundation of unity. Spiritual oneness that stemmed from faith alone, utterly irrespective of gender, race, position, geography, background…even moral track record. Utter, radical, scandalous flattening of all castes and strata. Jews, Gentiles, black, white, men, women, formerly moral and formerly immoral – all “one in Christ.” All with the same inherent value as creatures formed in the image of God. All with the same open door of faith to enter into God’s presence. Spiritual lepers brought into the community. Outcasts welcome.

The nascent church struggled with this. Some factions couldn’t reconcile to it, insisting that new converts embrace all the external social and religious practices that had set apart the Jewish nation for centuries. But that train had left the station. The time for “separation training” was over. Now it was time for a unity of all peoples, based not on externals, but on faith in a common Messiah. The scope, the simplicity, the utter de-stratification of a redemption that radically embraced all people – was scandalous.

Churches – Christians – I – have often failed to fully live out this profound reality. We all very easily fall back into stratification and superiority based on pathetic externals. But just as we would never put child locks on our cabinets when our kids are teenagers (well, actually…OK, never mind), so we are to put away the childish perspectives of pride and self-righteousness based on our external image in a mirror. If God looks upon the heart irrespective of appearance and track record, without regard to biology and background, then I must also. Religion can be yet another wall that separates. But, in fact, the Christian gospel, rightly embraced and practiced, is a radical unifier, not out of external compulsion, but due to a transcendent spiritual dynamic that de-fangs petty external differences, and the pride that exalts them.

Church scandals and sad and unwelcome news. Except for the ongoing and original scandal, this dismantling of the caste system accomplished 2,000 years ago that needs to steadily occur in our hearts today.

(image credit)

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I Am Not a Republican

I don’t like labels. Over time, they do more to distort than they do to clarify.

If you say that you are a Democrat, that term carries with a whole load of baggage in my mind – ideas, associations, past experiences, etc…only some (or none!) of which may apply to you. Nevertheless, in order to simplify our lives, we are classifying creatures, and we instinctively put people into buckets, then view them through a lens we’ve associated with that group.

Those who are on left side of the spectrum, often identified and/or self-identified as liberals or Democrats (labels just as prone to distortion as conservative and Republican), have quite a task sorting through the rhetoric and slogans to actually understand what a conservative is. In fact, an entire book was recently published to try to accomplish just that! But I’m realistic – I think the typical terms to describe people on either side are hopelessly compromised.

That’s why I’m not a Republican. And I’m not a Conservative. I’m a PIP.

“Wait – that’s a new label! You just said you hate labels.” True – but it’s a NEW label, and I get to define it, so it can be accurate (at least for the next five minutes).

I’m a Principled, Independent Patriot. A PIP.

I believe that principles - the enduring principles that served as the foundation of this country – are far more important than parties and positions. I believe that independence - independence of thought, independence from government interference, and independence from international interference – is far more vital to individual and national health than the pursuit of collectivism and socialism. And, I’m a patriot - yes, I fervently believe that the astonishing American experiment in liberty, representative government, and opportunity is vastly superior the alternatives that continue to be tried elsewhere, our many personal and national failings notwithstanding.

And I’m not alone.

Many in the leftstream media (LSM) have been perplexed (and vexed) at the fervent, positive response to the Sarah Palin nomination. Let me make it very simple for you – Sarah is a PIP. Fellow PIPs are looking at her character and her convictions, and understand that this is the type of person who can lead. She is not afraid of principles. She is not afraid to own her guns and religion (without bitterness). She has the independence to take on even her own party bosses. She is an unabashed patriot, and didn’t only recently discover a feeling of pride in being an American.

Unlike Obama, Biden, Hillary, Edwards, Romney, Giuliani, even McCain, we can relate to her. She’s “one of us.” With the pit-bull spine that we like to see in our leaders. PIPs aren’t into endless “nuance” and situational ethics that generally drift toward socialism. We want 16-oz to the pound, clear, forthright principles.

There has also been amazement at the dedication of the Ron Paul camp. While media types like to focus in on the kook factor among his followers, Dr. Paul’s grassroots popularity reflects the fact that he is a principled, independent patriot. Those of us who want truly limited government, less confiscation and redistribution of income, and a greater emphasis on individual rights are far more energized by the principled track record of these rare candidates than by prior Washington Beltway experience – which usually means compromised convictions, self-interest first, and dependence on too many inside people and interest groups to ever actually represent the rest of us (many of us would love to see term limits for that reason). Throw the bums out, whatever party they belong to. Lobbyist-loving lawyers: no. Citizen-servants: yes!

While PIPs often find themselves more in alignment with Republican platforms and conservative ideas, we are happy to see replaced any elected officials and bureaucrats who hide their avarice and socialistic tendencies behind party labels and empty talk. If you call yourself a Republican we’ll listen politely. If you call yourself a conservative we’ll pay attention. If you ‘re a principled, independent patriot we’ll support you with everything we’ve got. We want effective people who believe what we believe about this country and its government – not grey-suited drones with dossiers of experience horse-trading, earmarking, and compromising.

The rabid Hate-America-First crowd can’t understand a PIP. Reasonable, thoughtful people of a more “liberal” persuasion can carry on a debate, but to the Daily Kos disciples, the Michael Moore mavens, the “we’d-remove-the-red-state-vote-if-we-could” elitists, any PIP candidate is has to be “borked,” because they represent one major thing: a threat to their social re-engineering agenda.

John McCain is unquestionably a patriot. He has shown an independent streak (to some extent). Whether or not he is truly principled has been open to question. But by selecting Sarah Palin as his running mate, the PIPs that were lukewarm about his candidacy now feel like “one of us” is on the ticket.

When I vote, I don’t look at party first. I don’t care about gender or race. I look at principles, convictions, and readiness to go against the tide if that’s what it takes. And that’s why I’m not a Republican, a Democrat, a Libertarian, a conservative, or a liberal. I’m a PIP. And I wouldn’t mind seeing a Sarah Palin/Bobby Jindal ticket in 2012!

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The Man Behind the Curtain

Who is Steve Woodruff, anyway?

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Learn to Fly Here

Very funny picture!

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Lunar Eclipse

As I write, a near-total lunar eclipse is in progress outside – just came in from the awesome sight of a darkened reddish moon, in the midst of that rarest of conjunctions, nice weather accompanying a stellar event!

My Fiver got to look through big-person binoculars to see his first eclipse. Will he remember it? I don’t know. But I remember some of these things from my youth, such as Bennett’s Comet and the like. Good stuff!

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