ADVENT 2—PEACE

Ready for the Return

Malachi 3:1-4

3 “I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come,” says the Lord Almighty.

² But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. ³ He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the Lord will have men who will bring offerings in righteousness, ⁴ and the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem will be acceptable to the Lord, as in days gone by, as in former years.

Philippians 1:3-11

Thanksgiving and Prayer
³ I thank my God every time I remember you. ⁴ In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy ⁵ because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, ⁶ being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

⁷ It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart and, whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God’s grace with me. ⁸ God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.

⁹ And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, ¹⁰ so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, ¹¹ filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.

Luke 3:1-6

John the Baptist Prepares the Way
3 In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar—when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, Herod tetrarch of Galilee, his brother Philip tetrarch of Iturea and Traconitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene— ² during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. ³ He went into all the country around the Jordan, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. ⁴ As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet:

“A voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him. ⁵ Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill made low. The crooked roads shall become straight, the rough ways smooth. ⁶ And all people will see God’s salvation.’”

Introduction

Malachi asks the question: Who can endure (abide) the day of his coming? Who shall stand when he appears?” This is our question this morning. We celebrate the coming of Jesus some 2,000 years ago. We anticipate Christ’s return “in power and great glory.” But who can stand upright and look Jesus in the face when that day comes? How can we be ready for his coming? How can we even prepare to remember his first coming?

The Texts in Context

Malachi is the last prophet in the OT—whether or not he was the last one to prophesy, he is the one who stands at the end of the record of the Old Covenant and serves as the bridge to the New Covenant. The passage we read from Malachi is fitting indeed. Writing (or speaking God’s word) following the exile of God’s People, roughly around the time of Ezra and Nehemiah, Malachi observes that people want God’s Messiah to come (“the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple”). 

Think briefly of the history of this period. Under David and Solomon Israel rose to unprecedented importance in the ancient Near East. The Queen of Sheba herself made a trip to the court of Solomon to see its glory (1 Kings 10). So somewhere about 950 years before Christ, Israel was at its height. Following Solomon’s death the kingdom divided (930 BC). For just over 200 years the Northern Kingdom of Israel continued, then disintegrated under the exile of their rulers to Assyria (2 Kings 17). 

About 140 years later (586 BC) the last king of Judah was deported and Jerusalem fell completely (2 Kings 24). In spite of revivals under Hezekiah and Josiah, continued sin in the form of loyalty to other gods—shown as the prophets tell us by worship at altars of other gods, sexual sin, and economic oppression—and God brought the Kingdom of Judah also to an end. Babylon invaded and carried off their political and military leaders.

About 45 years after the fall of Jerusalem, Babylon itself fell to the Persians, and the Persian Empire took over its colonies. Perhaps only three years later the first exiles returned to Judah and work began under Zerubbabel to build a new altar, and rebuild the Temple of the Lord. The following years see the prophetic ministries of Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi (perhaps around 500 BC). About 50 years later the action described in Ezra and Nehemiah takes place. 

Back to our passage: Now that they were back in control of their own land, even if as a colony on the edge of the Empire, why would the people want God’s return? A common theme in Ezra and Nehemiah, as well as in Zechariah and Haggai, is the failure of the Return to fulfill the people’s hopes. The temple took longer to build than was expected; and even when it was finished the worship of the true God did not proceed as it should have. The people were aware that something was missing, that God himself needed to come down and take control.

The Question

So people want the Messiah to come. People want God to fix what is missing. They recognize that they cannot make life what it should be, and they anticipate God’s coming to do so. “‘I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come,’ says the Lord Almighty.” 

A side note to the point I am pursuing here: Malachi may intend one person or two people with his description. A straightforward reading of the verse could take “my messenger”, “the Lord you are seeking”, and “the messenger of the covenant” as parallel constructions, used as synonyms. Or it could take “my messenger” to refer to Malachi himself (whose name means “my messenger”) and “the Lord” and “the messenger of the covenant” to be the coming Messiah. In Christian theology we have taken the messenger who prepares the way to refer to John the Baptist, and “the Lord, the messenger of the [new] covenant” to be Jesus. In either case, God is coming; and the question that Malachi asks applies. 

So the question: “But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears?” Now when we hear this question, it sounds like a rhetorical question, but I think that Malachi assumes there is an answer. Someone can stand in God’s presence. The question is: Who? Consider the Psalms. Psalm 24: 3f reads: “Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord? Who may stand in his holy place? Those who have clean hands and a pure heart, who do not put their trust in an idol or swear by a false God.” 

There is the answer to Malachi’s question: “Those who have clean hands and a pure heart, who do not put their trust in an idol or swear by a false God.” Of course, that is also the problem that Malachi sees, as do Zechariah and Haggai, and that Ezra and Nehemiah later address. The people have mixed loyalties, and the Levites—the keepers of the Law—have themselves become impure and unclean. That is the point of the last verse of chapter 2: You have offended God with your sin. 

That is why Malachi goes on to say that the Lord who comes will cleanse his people and refine the Levites, so that they may indeed stand in the Lord’s presence and endure, even rejoice in, his coming. 

Think About Us

We live in Winnipeg (and Steinbach). We are, as it were, on the edge of the Empire—the centres of political and economic power are East and South of us: Toronto; New York; Ottawa; Washington. Quite possibly we feel helpless in the face of the events that go on around us in our world. We watched the recent election of the new American President with interest and anxiety, knowing that the results would affect us deeply, but powerless to do anything about it. We also are on the edge of Empire. We may wonder what point there is to the work that we do, whether in the church or in the community. 

When Lois and I moved here, people often asked us: “Why did you come here?” Although we know that southern Manitoba is a good place to live, we know also that the world does not revolve around us! 

“Small Things”

Just before Malachi, Zechariah describes the temple to which the Lord will come in a fascinating passage (4: 9f): “The hands of Zerubbabel have laid the foundation of this temple; his hands will also complete it. Then you will know that the Lord Almighty has sent me to you. Who dares despise the day of small things, since the seven eyes of the Lord that range throughout the earth will rejoice when they see the chosen capstone in the hand of Zerubbabel?” Zechariah’s point is that the people see what Zerubbabel is doing (and what they are doing) as “small things”, worth little in the grand scheme of events. But God, who sees all, lets them know that this is actually his work, not theirs, and that they dare not despise the work that he is doing. 

So also with us: Consider what we do in this church, and in my church in Steinbach, and where I work, and where you work. Friday night we had our Christmas Banquet. One of the evening events was a silent auction (really a combination auction-raffle) in which people paid 25 cents for each for tickets, which were then drawn for the items being auctioned. They raised $85—that’s about 340 tickets—for MCC. Small things! But who knows where that small thing will go? God knows. As Zechariah reminds us, “Don’t dare to despise small things that the Lord is doing.” 

Irene Kroeker has worked with young people in the high school who need support to make it through life. When they graduate, they keep coming to her. The result is that we (SMC) have given her an office and freezer space and closets, as she provides support to the homeless youth of Steinbach. It began as a small thing indeed, and has grown into one of Steinbach’s more notable efforts to work with a vulnerable population here. 

You could tell me more stories—from your experience as business people, teachers, workers, and more. The truth is that God works in what you do and in what I do to build his temple in our lives and in our world—a temple not built with human hands, but growing as the body of Christ. 

Connecting Back to our Passage

What does this have to do with getting ready for the Messiah? Well, the people wanted God to do some great work and make everything the way it used to be in the days of Solomon’s Temple. Malachi says, “He’s coming! Do you want to be ready? Let him cleanse you! Let him purify you! Let him use you to do his work in the world today. Then you will be ready for the return of Christ. 

Paul’s words to the Philippians echoes this idea: He can thank God for them because God is at work in their lives. And so Paul prays that they will continue to work and serve the Lord, all the more until he appears! The coming of John the Baptist (Luke 3) inaugurated Jesus’ first came to earth the first time. John did not come to the centre either. Judah was still a colony, now of Rome; but such as its centre of power was, it was in Jerusalem. Luke carefully outlines the powers that were, and where they were, and then tells how John came to the countryside around the Jordan River. People came to him from the centre of power for baptism, attracted to his message of repentance and God’s power as he held forth in the countryside. 

You see, this is how God works. God comes in the small places and to the weak people. Paul reminds the Corinthians (1 Cor 1):

²⁶ Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. ²⁷ But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. ²⁸ God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, ²⁹ so that no one may boast before him. ³⁰ It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. 

Conclusion

How can we be ready for Christ’s Return? How can we be among those who abide when he comes and stand in his presence? 

1. Purity: Who can stand in his presence? Those who have clean hands and pure hearts. If you are looking forward to Christmas and anticipating Christ’s Return, but are not living for God now, turn to him. Turn to him now and seek his cleansing and justifying Spirit. 

2. Practical Living: Don’t despise small things. What you and I do is small. We live far away from the centre of power, apparently unimportant to the Empire. But when we do God’s work, what we do can change the world. I think that I have told you stories before about such movements. For example, I believe I have told the story of John and Edith Hayward, a Winnipeg couple whose hospitality to an Indian stranger led to the conversion of Bakht Singh, whose ministry in turn led to the conversion of Prem Pradhan, under whose missionary endeavours hundreds of thousands of Nepalese have come to faith in Jesus Christ. (See Jon Bonk’s essays on “Thinking Small in Missions.” 

Do you want to be ready for Christ’s return? Get to work! Do what God gives you to do. I can’t tell you what to do; that’s up to you to figure out for yourselves. But you will do it in your jobs and in your families. In the small things of our lives, far from the centres of power, God is at work, preparing the world for his return.

Advent 1: Hope

2 December 2012: ADVENT I—HOPE

Jeremiah 33:14-16

¹⁴ “‘The days are coming,’ declares the Lord, ‘when I will fulfill the good promise I made to the house of Israel and to the house of Judah.

¹⁵ “‘In those days and at that time I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David’s line; he will do what is just and right in the land. ¹⁶ In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety.
This is the name by which it will be called: The Lord Our Righteous Saviour.’”

Luke 21:25-36

²⁵ “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. ²⁶ People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. ²⁷ At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. ²⁸ When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

²⁹ He told them this parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees. ³⁰ When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. ³¹ Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near. ³² “Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. ³³ Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.

³⁴ “Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with dissipation, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap. ³⁵ For it will come on all those who live on the face of the whole earth. ³⁶ Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man.”

Introduction

Every year we come to this moment, just after American Thanksgiving (which somehow seems to define the Christmas season, even for Canadians). The stores have big sales that push them into the “black”—a meaning for Black Friday, for any Friday, with which Christians should struggle. Cyber Monday follows, as so many of us make the push to get our Christmas shopping done.

Then we get to church and we are reminded: It is not yet Christmas. First we remember Advent. First we prepare. We get ready for the coming, the advent, of the baby in the manger. First we look again at our world and ourselves and begin the difficult process of making sure that we are ready, that we can be ready, when the angels sing their tidings of great joy.

Thoughts on the Texts

1. Remembering the first coming always draws our attention also to the Second Coming, when Jesus returns in power and great glory and draws all things to himself. The texts we read refer to both comings. Jeremiah heralds the birth of the heir of David’s line; Jesus refers to his return.

Yet the two comings do not divide so neatly. Jeremiah heralds also Christ’s return. “In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety”: These words do not describe what happened when Jesus was alive, or what happened in the century following his death and resurrection. Still less do we see Jerusalem at peace and in safety today. God’s people (whether we think of the Jews or of the Church) still live scattered and persecuted. Something remains to be done.

And when Jesus describes the end, he says: ²⁵ “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. ²⁶ People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. ²⁷ At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. ²⁸ When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

Clearly Jesus is referring to the end of all things; but then he continues: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees. ³⁰ When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. ³¹ Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near. ³² Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. ³³ Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.”

We have used these words to guess at his return, and that may be what he meant. But it seems at least as likely to me that these words refer both to his coming death and resurrection as well as to the consummation in the future. One commentator observes that Jesus may have meant his own impending death and resurrection, but that Mark and Luke (who recorded these words) apply them to his return. In any case, we take Jesus’ first and second coming together: The one reminds us of and prepares us for the other.

A brief aside: “This generation will not pass away until all these things have happened.” The difficulty these words cause disappears if Jesus was referring to his own death and resurrection. But even if Jesus meant his final return, the difficulty is only in the way we take “this generation”. Another commentator notes that it means something like “the generation of humans on earth”. In other words, “People will not die out before I bring everything to its proper end.”

2. A second thought: These words are words of hope. Jesus came into this world to bring us hope. Jesus’ return is the guarantee that our hope is rooted in reality.

Jeremiah is known as the weeping prophet. If anyone lived without seeing their hope realized, it was Jeremiah. He prophesied constantly that Babylon would destroy Judah—and so they did. He warned the remnant in the land not to flee to Egypt, not to fight against their Babylonian rulers. They ignored him and carried him off with them into Egypt, where he died, never seeing the hope that he proclaimed. Jeremiah complained bitterly to God, but he did not give up hope in God; and when God told him to buy a field at Anathoth (Jer 32), he did so.

So when Jeremiah speaks the hope of future peace and security for Jerusalem and for God’s Chosen People, he held to that hope in spite of his own great distress.

This past Sunday was Christ the King Sunday—the last Sunday before Advent. Lissa Wray Beal, our OT professor at Providence spoke in chapel on the theme of Christ the King, using Zechariah 9 as her text. Hear the prophet:

⁹ Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. ¹⁰ I will take away the chariots from Ephraim and the warhorses from Jerusalem, and the battle bow will be broken. He will proclaim peace to the nations. His rule will extend from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth.

¹¹ As for you, because of the blood of my covenant with you, I will free your prisoners from the waterless pit. ¹² Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you. ¹³ I will bend Judah as I bend my bow and fill it with Ephraim. I will rouse your sons, Zion, against your sons, Greece, and make you like a warrior’s sword.

Verse 13 locates the historical context of Zechariah’s words: slaves under Babylon, who have become slaves under Persia, and now live as slaves under Alexander the Great’s successors, the “Sons of Greece”. They knew what it meant to live as slaves and prisoners in a foreign land.

But Zechariah calls God’s People something else in verse 12: “Return…you prisoners of hope”! Prisoners of hope! What can it mean to live as a prisoner of hope?

Jesus tells us: ²⁵ “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. ²⁶ People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. ²⁷ At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. ²⁸ When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

Look Around Us Today

We live in a world divided between those who have more than they need and those who have almost nothing. Increasingly people are imprisoned by poverty and wealth.

You know the parable of the sheep and the goats found in Matthew 25. Often we use the parable to remind us that we should take care of “the least of these, my brothers.”  That is a good application of this passage, but there is something deeper, more powerful. Everywhere else in the gospels, the term “my brothers” refers to the disciples. One reading of this text is that Jesus is telling us how the Gentiles are judged: by how they respond to his followers, whom they find in those who are marginalized and oppressed. This remains true for us today. We find not only God’s people, but God’s Messiah himself, the King, when we meet the marginalized of the world.

Malcolm Guite is a “priest, chaplain, and teacher at the University of Cambridge.”  He has written a sonnet on the parable of the sheep and the goats found in Matthew 25.

Sonnet: Christ the King—Matthew 25: 31-46

Malcolm Guite

Our king is calling from the hungry furrows

Whilst we are cruising through the aisles of plenty,

Our hoardings screen us from the man of sorrows,

Our soundtracks drown his murmur: “I am thirsty”.

He stands in line to sign in as a stranger

And seek a welcome from the world he made,

We see him only as a threat, a danger,

He asks for clothes, we strip-search him instead.

 

And if he fall sick then we take care

That he does not infect our private health,

We lock him in the prisons of our fear

Lest he unlock the prison of our wealth.

But still on Sunday we shall stand and sing

The praises of our hidden Lord and King.

 

And With Us?

Where is Freedom? Note that those who hope are those who have nothing. Those who have something do not have hope—they don’t need it, so they can’t have it. Those who have nothing, have hope. Those who have something, have no hope.

Perhaps this is the basic lesson for us as we begin the season of Advent. Thanksgiving and Christmas teach us to think of how much we have. Advent reminds us that our wealth can become our prison. If we want to be ready for the coming of Jesus, we have to discover our poverty, our need, and so become a prisoner of hope.

The truth is, of course, that it is not only the materially poor who live in great need. I think of one a friend who has what most would call "a good life". Recently she did a chapel presentation on her own struggle with depression, in which one realizes that she came face to face with herself as helpless in the grip of her depression. It was in that helpless state that she found hope.

I believe that it is always when we discover our essential poverty in this life that we become “prisoners of hope”, able to receive the King of the Universe. Mental and emotional health is one of the most common ways that we experience helplessness in our affluent society; but the discovery comes through every way in which we realize that without God we are adrift in a hostile universe, destined to disappear into the cold vastness of space. Think of the feeling of facing Hurricane Sandy on the East Coast last month, helpless in the face of the storm.

This discovery sets us free to become fully at human in the wonderful vitality of God’s presence. G. K. Chesterton expresses what I have been saying in a profound hymn.

O God of earth and altar, bow down and hear our cry,

Our earthly rulers falter, our people drift and die;

The walls of gold entomb us, the swords of scorn divide,

Take not thy thunder from us, but take away our pride.

 

From all that terror teaches, from lies of tongue and pen,

From all the easy speeches that comfort cruel men,

From sale and profanation of honour, and the sword,
From sleep and from damnation, deliver us, good Lord!

 

Tie in a living tether the prince and priest and thrall,

Bind all our lives together, smite us and save us all;

In ire and exultation aflame with faith, and free,

Lift up a living nation, a single sword to thee.

Back to the Text

All of this is a general truth, found throughout Scripture. Our text locates the heart of this truth in the coming of Jesus into our world. It is not an idea that lives in some abstract space, unrelated to the historical specifics of our lives. Rather, we encounter God in the very concrete entrance of God into human history in the first coming of Jesus. And the promised return of Jesus at the end of history is as real as his first coming.

I have been reading J.B. Phillips, Ring of Truth: A Translator’s Testimony. He observes about this strand in the NT: “But the prophetic vision goes far beyond this. It envisages the end of life on this planet, when so to speak, eternity irrupts into time. There is no time-scale: there rarely is in such an earthbound factor in prophetic vision. …

This is the preparation, the training-ground, the place where God begins his work of making us into what he wants us to be. But it is not our home. We are warned again and again not to value this world as permanency. Neither our security nor our true wealth is rooted in this passing life. We are strangers and pilgrims and while we are under the pressure of love to do all that we can to help our fellows, we should not expect a world which is largely God-resisting to become some earthly paradise.” (Phillips, 1967, 77f.)

I like that: “This is the preparation, the training-ground, the place where God begins his work of making us into what he wants us to be.” We anticipate Jesus’ return, because our hope lies in the truth that this world is preparation, what C.S. Lewis called “the shadow-lands”, less real than the reality that awaits us in eternity with God.

A Closing Illustration

Let me close with an anecdote from his life that Phillips tells in this little book: pp89f.

“Let me say at once that I am incredulous by nature, and as unsuperstitious as they come. … But from time to time in life strange things occur which convince me that ‘there are more things in heaven and earth,’ John Robinson and friends, ‘than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ ….

                Many of us who believe in what is technically known as the Communion of Saints must have experienced the sense of nearness, for a fairly short time, of those whom we love soon after they have died. This has certainly happened to me several times. But the late C.S. Lewis, whom I did not know very well, and had only seen in the flesh once, but with whom I had corresponded a fair amount, gave me an unusual experience. A few days after his death, while I was sitting watching television, he ‘appeared’ sitting in a chair within a few feet of me, and spoke a few words which were particularly relevant to the difficult circumstances through which I was passing. He was ruddier in complexion than ever, grinning all over his face and, as the old-fashioned saying has it, positively glowing with health. The interesting thing to me was that I had not been thinking about him at all. I was neither alarmed nor surprised … . He was just there – ‘large as life and twice as natural’! A week later, this time when I was in bed reading before going to sleep, he appeared again, even more rosily radiant than before, and repeated the same message, which was very important to me at the time. I was a little puzzled by this, and I mentioned it to a certain saintly Bishop who was then living in retirement here in Dorset. His reply was, ‘My dear [John], this sort of thing is happening all the time’.”

We wait for Christ, anticipating our entry into the reality God gives us, and living now according to that final reality.

Chipmunk 2012 Redux

Actually, I'm not bringing back the chipmunk that the neighbour's cat killed for us. I don't want him back; but we just downloaded some summer pictures from our camera, and that gives me an opportunity to show the bird feeder raider at work. Cute little fellow. I'm glad he's gone, and sorry that he had to go.

 

Beginning Examples

I have no time to blog in the coming week, so here a thought as I drop out: Someone asked in response to the last post if voting for a compromiser isn't the same as voting for nothing. Don't we have to stand on principle?

Yes we do stand on principle. That was one of my points in the first post in this series. Everyone should be free to speak on the basis of their own principles -- to speak freely and to be heard. But we have conflicting principles, and we have to find ways to work together.

Example: Some want politicians who hold to the principle of a balanced budget. No compromise allowed! But even business people who are the most fiscally conservative are willing to run a deficit if conditions require it. They know that cash flow is as important as the annual bottom line. And families are willing to take on long-term debt to buy a house. I believe (with the fiscal conservatives) that balanced budgets are basic to our national health. But when someone signs a pledge to never under any circumstances vote for a measure outside of that principle, we get the gridlock we see in Washington. Sometimes compromise is necessary.

Example: I am a pacifist (I prefer to say "non-resistant" or that I hold the peace position taught by Jesus). I am predisposed to oppose any military action of any kind. Ever. If I make my principle a hill to die on, I also use my peace principle to create conflict. Sometimes compromise is necessary.

Example: Proponents of abortion on demand ("pro-choice" to use their own language) support measures in the Access to Health Care bill that compel doctors and nurses to do abortions, regardless of their own religious convictions. The refusal to compromise the principle of choice becomes destructive of religious freedom. Sometimes compromise is necessary.

Hold on to your principles. We are lost without them. We can't think at all clearly unless we have and live by principles. But listen to the other: He/she is also a person of good will with real principles. We have to work together to make our country work.

Keep on Listening. Keep on Speaking.

Part 3. I'm trying to lay out some basic ideas about how to listen and speak in civic conversations about issues that polarize Americans and Canadians. I don't want to tackle the issues directly, but to see if there is some basic way that we might speak with each other to find a path forward in contentious areas.

So far I have argued that many of our differences come from the assumptions about life with which we approach the discussion. Some people say that only secular assumptions are permissible, but I have argued that people who are religious and those who say they are non-religious both argue from their own fundamental framework. Honesty suggests that we state what we believe up front, and courtesy suggests that we listen respectfully to those with whom we disagree. But are honesty and courtesy enough? Thus part 3.

In the present situation, when someone makes their case we tend to listen only long enough to discover whether he/she is supporting our beliefs. The comments that appear under news stories online show how little anyone is listening -- respectfully or otherwise. Is there an alternative?

I suggest that we listen with at least one purpose and on the basis of at least one assumption. 1) We assume that the other intends something good. When Republicans look for ways to cut the budget, we do not assume that their intention is to hurt poor people. When Democrats look for ways to help the unemployed, we do not assume that their intention is to hurt the wealthy. When those who call themselves pro-life oppose abortion on demand, we do not assume that their intention is to control women. When those who call themselves pro-choice support abortion on demand, we do not assume that their intention is to kill babies.

2) Our purpose? To discover what the other's best intentions are. We do not need to agree. We may hold that their actions will contradict their intentions. But our first step is to hear the other clearly.

Of course, when we engage in these conversations we want to convince other people that we are right. Does this approach mean that we just talk at each other and take notes to pass a test later? Can we still argue and debate and seek to persuade?

Of course we can. Indeed, we should. But it does mean that we argue civilly; we present our case respectfully; we recognize that we can be wrong; we seek to learn as well as to convince.

Perhaps we could take one simple step. Whenever a politician or other public figure presents their case, we can ask him/her: "Are you willing to compromise?" If they say, "No. I will stand on principle," we can let them know we will not support them. Those whose principles lead them to be inflexible and unable to listen cannot lead a country comprised of different and disagreeing groups of people.

So How Do We Speak? And Listen?

Yesterday I argued that everyone speaks from within some framework. When we engage in civic conversation in the public square, we speak on the basis of certain assumptions--religious or secular. Sometimes people will suggest that those who speak from religious assumptions should not do so, on the basis that they do not share those assumptions. But we all speak from some ground. We all assume a framework for living. So how do we speak to each other? And how can we listen?

This format--writing in a blog with limited follow-up--encourages oversimplification, and I doubt that I am able to probe the question in great depth anyway. So the suggestions that follow are simple and somewhat surface; but I offer them as a starting point.

1) When we speak, we should be open about our own stance towards life. If you speak as a Christian, say so. If you speak as a Jew, say so. If you speak as a secular person say so. Honesty is a virtue. When a candidate for the Supreme Court can say that his Christian faith will make no difference to his deliberations on the bench, I wonder what kind of self-deception he is engaging in. Who we are should inform what we think and say. So, step one: be honest about your presuppositions, your assumptions about life, your own framework for living.

2) When we listen, we should be ready to listen to those who speak from frameworks different than our own. Christians can listen to secularists. Atheists can listen to Muslims. Secular people and Theistic people should be able to hear each other.

3) When we start with different presuppositions, we will come out with different conclusions to the same data. The Charter of Rights and Freedoms makes it clear that in Canada the rights of the individual trump the rights of the community. There are community rights, but individual rights are paramount. From this basic assumption about life there flow privacy laws that make complete sense -- if the rights of individual are primary.

Many (perhaps most) societies give the primary right to something other than the individual -- to the family, or to the community (whatever that is), or to the State. Privacy laws as they exist in Canada make no sense in these societies. Different starting points lead to different conclusions, even when we have the same data.

4) We can listen to and hear different positions based on assumptions with which we disagree. We can listen respectfully and carefully, even as we continue to disagree.

5) We can learn from positions with which we disagree. We may continue to disagree, but starting from a different place in the argument allows us to see things that we do not see when we remain only in our own framework.

Applying these simple ideas to the conversation about Bill M-312, to which I referred yesterday: The proponents of the bill want to redefine human life so that a baby is legally human before birth as well as after. Those who oppose them recognize the political tactic intended to re-open the debate over abortion on demand. Accordingly they respond with vitriol and closed minds. there is a fundamentalism of secular zealots as well as of Muslims and Christians.

If they would set their own framework aside for a moment, they could perhaps hear the concern for human life that makes for a genuinely "pro-life" concern. Try to hear what the bill's proponents are saying -- don't commit to agreeing; just try to understand.

Then turn it around. Proponents of the bill can be just as vitriolic and closed-minded. Instead of accusing those who oppose the bill of being baby killers, try to hear their concerns clearly. What past actions and experiences lead people to be so afraid of the larger community telling women what they may do with their bodies? How has the larger society dehumanized women (among others)? Try to hear what the bill's opponents are saying -- don't commit to agreeing, just try to understand.

Simple steps, and incredibly difficult to carry out. Try repeating them when discussing same sex marriage. It is much easier just to decide that the person you disagree with is evil; but that approach leads to destruction. We're trying to build a country together, and we need each other far too much not to try to understand and learn from each other.

What Ground Do You Stand On?

I've been thinking, wondering how to encourage the kind of civic conversation that can move ahead constructively in our powerfully polarized environment.

A case in point. A private member in the Canadian Parliament has introduced as bill to redefine the meaning of "human life" in Canadian Law (Bill M-312). The bill had no chance of passing because it was perceived as (and intended as) a way to re-open the debate in Canada about abortion on demand. As a result, a full term infant five minutes before birth is not "human life" and five minutes after is.

I have little interest in arguing either side here. The comments that follow such news stories illustrates how pointless and polarized such debates are. Instead I want to use the case to examine the basic process of civic discussion as it now exists.

The usual argument for abortion on demand -- at least if the comments to the stories are any guide -- is that women have the ultimate right to decide what happens with their own bodies. The argument is compelling and should (I believe) carry a great deal of weight. the usual argument against abortion on demand is that the fetus being aborted is human, and that human life deserves the same protection under law as any other person. This argument is also compelling. One can see why some object to redefining the status in law of the fetus.

Again, I do not want to pursue the argument here. I want to examine the process.

Both sides make a strong case. Both sides start from clear assumptions, which they develop into a coherent position. The trouble is that their assumptions are sharply different. Often those who oppose abortion begin with assumptions drawn from a Christian or Judaic framework for living. But if they refer to their beliefs as Jews or Christians in making their case, they are told immediately that religion has no place in a civic conversation. "I don't believe the Bible, so you can't use it in this discussion."

What is not admitted is that those who oppose limits on the individual's right to control her own body also proceed from a religious framework. I define religion as a system that seeks to make sense of life and to answer ultimate questions about life. So naturalism -- the belief that there is nothing more than natural realities -- is religious in form, even if it is not an historic world religion. Similarly the secular worldview that makes the individual the basic building block of society functions as a religious framework for living.

So when people argue the case for abortion on demand, they build on specific philosophical and religious assumptions about the nature of life and of the whole of reality. If the Christian or Jew (someone, for example, such as David Novak, professor in Judaic studies at the University of Toronto and author of The Sanctity of Human Life, 2007) cannot use his/her framework for understanding life, then neither may the secular person, or the Buddhist, or the naturalist, or anyone.

We all speak from some ground when we speak. We all speak with basic assumptions about life and the nature of reality. Accepting that basic fact would be a step forward in the civic conversation -- whether about the meaning of human life in Canadian Law, or the way that we should respond to immigration policies in Canada, or about any other subject.

In a future blog I will ask what such a conversation might look like. At this point it is enough to say that the current conversation looks imperialistic -- the rule of whoever can shout the loudest and beat the other down. Such imperialism is the preserve of no one group. From Muslims to Christians to Secular people to the "non-religious": every one of us is capable of trying to win the argument by mobilizing force and destroying the other. I want to stop that and ask instead, when you speak, what ground do you stand on?

Life and Death on the Prairies

If I had been quicker with the camera, this would be an illustrated post. Maybe sometime I will post pictures of the chipmunk at its centre. This critter took up residence in the hole left by last year's prairie dog. We saw him from time to time raiding the bird feeders.

Lois and I worked out a plan to scare him, and scare him good. One bird feeder is beside the sliding doors to the patio. When we saw him through the glass doors, we moved quietly to the garage. Lois went around the house, picking up and stretching out the garden hose as far as it would go. I gave her a minute to get in position, then I burst from the garage onto the patio yelling like a maniac and charging the terrified chipmunk. He ran around the corner of the house -- straight into a blast of water.

Plan worked. But its only long-term effect was to make the chipmunk much harder to see. Then one day the chipmunk died. Or rather, the neighbour's cat caught the chipmunk. Based on the remains, they were a pair -- so we were headed for lots and lots of little critters raiding our bird feeders.

First I found a tail. Then I found another tail. Then later I saw the chipmunk himself lying on his side, apparently sleeping, but quite dead.

I confess to some sadness on his/her demise. I don't like seeing living beings killed, even though the circle of life is being demonstrated. But we also feel real relief at their death (maybe three of them?). Our feelings towards the neighbour's cat have also changed. He/She has stalked the birds sometimes, but they generally get away. We didn't like the stalking, but we really do like the freedom from chipmunks the cat has provided.

Now to find those prairie dog-chipmunk holes and fill them in before something else takes up residence!

Some Thoughts

My sister blogged on Paterno's (and Penn State's) fall here. Since it is unfair for me to post on my sister's blog and embroil her in debating the penalties handed out to Penn State by the NCAA, I set out some brief thoughts in my own blog.

One of the comments on her blog (from "Pebbles") said essentially that we should have no pity on the perpetrators -- they deseerve whatever they get. Whether or not this is correct, it at least suggests that we be sure we know who the "perpetrators" are. I have no quarrel with the trial and entencing of Sandusky. One may feel revulsion, sympathy, outrage -- whatever, with Sandusky; but he was charged and tried and convicted. And his crime is the greater in that no punishment can fix the damage he did to the lives of so many young boys in his charge.

But what of Penn State? And of Paterno? Two brief thoughts, concerning the process and the penalty.

1) The process: The essential charge against Penn State is that too much power was concentrated in the hands of too few people, most notably in Paterno's hands. But the process concentrated even greater power first in the Freeh Report -- one investigator's reading of the events -- and second in the NCAA commissioner's action. Freeh thus acts as prosecuting attorney and judge, with the NCAA meting out the penalty. Since the penalty requires us to believe that Paterno willfully covered up something that he knew and understood well, and since that charge is sharply at variance with 50 years of experience with Paterno in the public eye, it requires more process than an investigator handing down his own judgment. There is no place for Paterno or the university to make their defence. Without a real defence we have something like a lynching, not justice -- for the victims, for Sandusky, for Paterno, for Penn State.

2) The penalty: The penalty should be and is levied against Sandusky -- tried and convicted in a court of law. One commentator noted that when Baylor's coach tried to cover up a crime of murder involving one of his players, the NCAA refused to get involved on the grounds that it was a criminal offense. The courts are the ones to levy such penalties, not the NCAA. As it stands, the penalties are handed down with no due process, either in the Freeh Report or in the NCAA's own actions.

What I found most revealing was the decision to strip Paterno of 13 years of victories. That decision seems merely vindictive. Fines in excess of one billion dollars (including the loss of Big Ten revenue), plus loss of scholarships, and then the young men who had no part in any way in the events in question are told that they did not win anything, but simply forfeited?


There is talk of further legal action -- against Spanier for the alleged cover-up, and against Penn State for damages. One benefit of such action would be a real legal process, not just for the sake of justice for the victims, but so that we can know if the NCAA got it right, or if they were simply a lynch mob. Either way, the whole epsiode is a cause of grief for everyone involved.

One might ask what I think happened, what I think Paterno (and the university) did. I don't know. I would not be surprised, if we could learn the full truth, to discover that Paterno knew more than he admitted, and that he really did not understand what he was facing. It might seem odd to think that someone in his 70s, with so widfe experience of football, could be naive; but that may indeed be the case. Such naivety is no excuse; but it is a far cry from the charge of deliberately withholding information that Paterno knew to be true.

It also fits better with the local community's experience of someone who lived in a modest house beside a local park and used his high salary more for the bnenefit of the university than for himself (witness the Paterno Library). And with the experience of someone who insisted on his players holding higher academic standards than almost any other NCAA school. The charge was made in the past that Paterno didn't care enough about winning, because he really did want to build young men of good character.

My own sense at this point is that Paterno was better than he is being protrayed, and that he and Spanier took steps in 2001 that were wrong. Even granting a tragic naivety does not excuse him; as Freeh and the Commissioner stated, too much power was concentrated in his hands. But it reminds us that the one who committed so many crimes was Sandusky, not Paterno.

Some judgment and penalty is needed, but not a lynching.

Understanding

I'm currently participating in a mildly sporadic way in a conversation on the facebook Mennonite Church Canada page. I am impressed again with how difficult real understanding is. We assume quickly that the other's comments make sense (or not), which means also that we assume quickly that we know what the other has said. In fact, usually we don't.

I like the MCCanada discussion because the participants keep going while trying to figure out what others have said; the contrast with public sites is great. (Try going to CBC, for example, and reading all the comments made on news stories there. CBC is mild; CNN much worse; other sites are just depressing.) But even with great goodwill and a lot of effort, I suspect we don't understand each other well at all.

If we are going to understand each other at all in the conversations of life, we have to begin with a profound commitment to hear the other person. A negative counter-example is the failure of participants in the Anglican Communion to hear each other when they discuss whether or not they should ordain practicing homosexuals as Anglican priests. African Bishops have been quoted as asking North American Bishops if they would like prayer to have the demons possessing them cast out. One can guess that the African Bishops really don't understand what their North American counterparts are really saying.

But the North Americans fare no better; they speak in even worse terms. I remember listening to Bishop Sponge on a Minnesota Public Radio program. He stated that the African Bishops are unsophisticated, too primitive to understand the issue at hand. His language was frankly racist, and it was quite clear that he (and the North American Bishops in general) does not understand his African counterparts.

Do we do better, we Mennonites? Not necessarily. Wave Franklin Graham in front of our noses, and we react strongly enough to make me suspicious.

When someone sounds convinced that their case is complete and is convinced that those who disagree with them are morally or intellectually deficient, I get suspicious. I begin to wonder if we have really understood the other. I suggest some basic presuppositions in any conversation:
1) Assume that the other person is smart enough to have something worth saying.
2) Assume that the other person may be right in what they think.
3) Assume that the other person may not have understood my point.
4) Assume that I may be right in what I think.
5) Assume that real understanding takes significant conversation back and forth -- pushing each other and testing each other in the search for meaning.
6) Assume that something in the wrong position is right and worth learning from.

These are simple points. They are not exhaustive. I don't practice them consistently. But they give me a place to start in all my conversations online and in person.

The Great Feast

A barren feast before them spread
The table long and bare.
A tuneless song discordant rose
As dancers stumbled round
More fight, more flight, than dance,
With droning in the dark.

Reason surveyed her realm in wonder
Harsh laughter grated on her ears.
The feast of reason should be rich
Debauched with thought and not with fists--
Reason, not might, makes right, but all around the dancers clutched and struggled,
Grew silent, sobbed and wept
For the barren feast of reason.

Around the outer ring the judges sat,
Stern faces, eyes without laughter, songless tongues,
And condemned riotous reason.
Clouded and blinded with cataracts of faith.
Faith judges her sister;
Together her followers judge the chaos and the void.

Then a voice of gentle thunder,
Eyes gleaming like lightning in love,
Breaks through the formless empty strife
With the word: "Let there be!"
Life, love, laughter
Food, drink, dance, song,
Faith and Reason--let there be!

The sisters turn and face each other
Tentative steps and fearful smiles.
They join hands together and begin
So slowly at first
To dance, to sing--faster, joyously they sing and dance.

The table is filled with food and drink
The richest and best of fare.
Dancers follow in perfect step with laughter and with jest.
Arguments follow, grounded in Faith
Belief grows stronger, tempered with Reason.

When Faith and reason meet, great feast and joy!
Sober Reason, Buoyant Faith
Joyous Reason, Sensible Faith
Hands joined, singing in the garden, dancing in the city
When faith and reason meet.

Daryl Climenhaga
28 March 2012

The Razor that Keeps on Giving

Part 4. I have now used the new razor. I feel like a traitor, but it is better than the one I got 45 years ago. No surprise, I suppose -- four blades lined up in one against my oild single-edged blade. But then Lois gave me a shock, I have two razors -- the first one (a Schick) I ever got, and an interloper from Gilette that arrived in the mail. Now I have three.

Lois was doing her regular shopping and picked up some shampoo, when her friend pointed out that the same container of shampoo on another shelf had a courtesy razor attached. Gilette really wants to get these things into people's hands! So now I ahve three razors.

The reason Gilette does this is clear enough. The razor itself costs about $15 to $20. The balde cartidges are about $25 for a four pack. they're trying to get me hooked! Six dollars a cartridge, compared to my old single-edged blade at $1 each. Oh well, it does give a nice shave ....

The Razor (Part 3)

We just visited home for Christmas -- drive to Minneapolis; train to South Bend; rent a car and drive to Harrisburg. Drive back to Greenville and then South Bend. Fly to Minneapolis; and drive home. Events and people: wedding in Minneapolis, sister and brother-in-law in IN, parents and son and girlfriend (and other son and daughter-in-law [and dog] and other sister), mother, sons and wife+girlfriend and dog, friends in Minneapolis, and finally northwards and home! If it makes your head spin, ours certainly were.

At my Dad's a surprise awaited -- a razor sent by Gillette (I think) for our older son on his 16th birthday (13+ years ago). Since none of us lived anywhere nearby then, the razor became my father's instead. A double-edged razor of the old kind. Younger than my razor (two posts ago), but harking back to yet earlier days.

I did not use it. Vaughn did not take it. It remains with Dad, reminding us of days long past. We stand on the edge of a New Year, having shaved off 2011 and watched it fall to the ground behind us. I stand still between two razors -- a simple single-edged Schick, and a fancy dandy new Gillette arrived (of course) unsolicited in the mail. Between past and present, and embracing both.

The Devil's Razor

Gillette must have read my blog. No sooner do I refer to my faithful Schick, used since 1968, than a package arrives in the mail. A promotional from Shoppers here in town, including a new ProGlide Gillette razor.

What to do? I had just proclaimed my undying loyalty to the razor that had stood the test of time, shaving my scanty beard for 43 years, when a competitor arrives in my house and sits invitingly on the counter! What to do?

I suppose I will use it. I guess I'll at least try it (although my light facial hair hardly needs four carefully calibrated blades to provide extra comfort. The devil's razor to tempt me, or an unexpected blessing from Shoppers? (I was going to say "from God", but I don't want to exalt a local pharmacy to that status.)

Penn State

Joe Paterno. Extraordinary coach—remarkable man—enduring, committed to the right—now we add the flaw that reminds us he is as human as you and I.

What do we make of the events of the past month in which Paterno’s legacy was tarnished by the revelations of his former assistant, Sandusky, showering with many, many young boys while serving as their mentor and friend? What do we make of the likelihood that such “showering” was a cover or stimulus for pedophilia? What do we make of Paterno’s failure to pursue the discovery of this activity after Sandusky left Penn State, but while still a coach emeritus? What do we make of Sandusky’s claims that there was no sexual activity, only horsing around?

My sister wrote in her blog using the words from David’s lament at the death of Saul and Jonathon, “How are the mighty fallen!” She expressed well both the real goodness, indeed greatness of Paterno’s legacy, and the real and destructive failure of the university—including Paterno—to deal with the knowledge they had.

I don’t know what more the university should have done. Report the matter to the police? It seems that they did (although I find it difficult to know who really did what), but without pursuing the matter as vigorously as they should have. Reports were made up the chain of authority within the university. I hear people say, “Paterno was king, therefore he carries the greatest responsibility.” That makes little sense to me: Paterno, like any of us in the academic world, worked within a chain of authority, which he honoured as he should have. Certainly that chain failed.

I do know that we can hardly grasp how destructive Sandusky’s activity was. I think of a friend who tried to respond to similar activity within the church, and found the aftermath so destructive that he eventually took his own life. Even if the actions had not been with young boys, what was done with the victims without their consent was and is terribly destructive.

I still do not know how culpable Sandusky was. We’re waiting for the victims to tell their story, so that we can evaluate Sandusky’s claims that he was “horsing around”, but did not engage in sexual actions with the boys. On the face of it the claim seems unlikely, but we must listen to the boys before we make up our minds. I still do not know if Paterno should have been fired. He was at least naïve in his response, underestimating the seriousness of Sandusky’s actions.

I notice several other facts about our society in the aftermath.
There was a remarkable rush to judgment, with the sports media especially deciding they knew all the facts from the start.
We readily judge past actions based on present knowledge. It’s ironic that Paterno the football coach should be condemned by Monday morning quarterbacks. He himself agrees now, with what he knows now, that he should have done more. As a society we are convinced that we would have done more than he did—so good is our view after the event.
We continue to underestimate the destructive potential of wrong actions, such as Sandusky’s actions in showering with the boys. The showers may have begun innocently; they can hardly have continued so. (I am as sceptical as anyone, although I want to wait for a fuller version of the story.)

I think of one good result of Paterno’s final failure. I listened to the first game after he was fired, on Lion radio on the internet. Every commercial break included information about child abuse and efforts to persuade us to take abuse more seriously and bring it to an end. When Penn State was driving for what would have been the winning score (except that the drive failed), the students took up their iconic chant: “We are! Penn State!” It was a spine-chilling moment, and then there was a timeout—and a radio break. The chant was replaced with the reminder to end sexual abuse of children. The emotion of the game was framed in proper perspective.

In time perhaps we can recover a real sense of Paterno’s enduring legacy—a great man and great coach, who is as human as you and I, flawed and able to make serious mistakes in assessing another person’s actions. In time perhaps we can rediscover college football as a wonderful pastime. Framed within the far more serious and enduring task of relating to each other and taking care of each other the way that God intended us to. Ending abuse—abuse of children, abuse of any other person—is greater than any Penn State game. I think Paterno would agree and would be glad to see steps towards that goal as the best part of his own life. I hope he would agree.

The Razor of Time

In 1968 I bought my first (and only) razor. Then last month we visited Nevin and Ali in South Bend. It was a good visit. I attended a conference in Elkhart (the final celebratory gathering of the Global Mennonite History Project) and Lois spent time with N and A in their new house.

In order to do this together, we flew to TO, then drove from TO to SB in a rental car. That meant that I had to place my razor in the checked luggage for the first and last stretch of the journey. In between we drove. It was a good drive south, except for the hour spent sitting in line at the border at Sarnia. A small tip: Don't cross when everyone is going home.

The visit and conference were great. Breakfast with my sister and brother-in-law. A banquet at which we (Lois and Nevin and Ali joined me) sat with Paul and Nancy and reminisced and enjoyed. Then the drive back through Sarnia -- five minutes max this time. A small tip: Sunday afternoons are good for crossing the border.

Monday was excellent. Spent the night in Vaughn's micro-rental: 300 square feet near the U of T. Lovely spot (and small). Walked around the university and environs, and ate a breakfast in one place and lunch in another (a lovely Thai restaurant). Then flew back to Wpg. I put the razor in the checked suitcase.

But when we unpacked, I could not find my razor! Forty-three years of faithful service, and my razor was missing. I considered buying a new one -- discarded the thought. i emailed Vaughn and Nevin and asked them to search their residences. Vaughn's search was quick (small space); Nevin's was longer (two-story house). Both agreed: no razor.

I survived for two weeks on disposables then made a final search of the now empty suitcase. There was a soft plastic container in the suitcase. There inside was the razor -- lovingly placed there by Lois to protect it and the contents of the suitcase. How she missed it in unpacking, and how I missed it in looking there before that night I don't know.

But there it was. And now that part of my life is complete again. A symbol of continuity in the midst of so many other changes. My razor.

Change

Waves rolling, heaping up
Overwhelming crushing force of water pouring down
Deep deep breath
Face into the crash and roar
Riding through froth and foam and cataract
Of change.

Promises

Thirty-four years ago Lois and I were married. July 30, 1977--a day that lives in my memory, a good day, and the beginning of life as I know it.



I cannot imagine life without Lois, and I do not want anything other than what I have been given.




On our anniversary Lois gave me a little book edited by Scott Peck, a collection of sayings about love and marriage. Peck observes the way that his own marriage of 40 years (at the time of writing) illustrated Kübler-Ross's well-known five stages of grief: denial that the romantic love of the honeymoon phase had died; negotiations trying to recapture that first glorious stage; anger when it became clear that married life is a journey quite different from the courtship; depression as the realization of what married life is really like settled in; and finally acceptance of that reality. Peck observes that once the couple come to that final stage there is a depth of union and commitment and joy unknown to the young couple, and available only to those who persist through the whole journey.

It makes sense to me then that the first 20 years of our life together--lived in Indiana and Pennsylvania and Kentucky and Zambia and Zimbabwe--were more difficult than the past 14--since we moved to Manitoba. The first 20 were good years, but they were the learning years, the years in which we discovered what those promises meant, which we had made to each other so earnestly and yet with so little understanding. These later years have been richer precisely because they are the later years, the years in which the fruit of the first years come to maturity. There are still struggles: Struggle and life go together. But there is a safety and strength in our relationship that allows us to deal with the struggles of life.

My mind goes back to those first promises. We decided that we wanted to write our own vows. I think now that I would use the vows written by the church and shared by so many other couples through the centuries. Perhaps a bit of tweaking--to love, honour, and obey sounds strange to children of the Sixties, unless we can promise to obey each other (which would at least come closer to Ephesians 5: 21 than requiring the woman alone to obey does). But I have a greater appreciation for the strength of tradition now than I did then. Perhaps one of the effects of growing older, perhaps greater maturity, perhaps.

But we wrote our own vows anyway. I remember the dress rehearsal. We had decided to recite our vows from memory. I did not yet have them memorized. Lois was--shall we say concerned. I was not particularly worried, inasmuch as I was active in theatre at the time and knew that I had my lines well enough to say them the next day. And of course we both spoke our lines from memory. No problem.



Actually, a small problem. I have no idea today what I promised. Lois claims that it includes such things as, "I will always answer the telephone and write all letters that need writing." I'm pretty sure that those specific promises were not in our vows. And then she made a discovery. When our sons were visiting, she was going through boxes in the basement looking at old clippings and other memorabilia--and then she found the vows. I wanted to close with them, but we can't find them again. We'll look. Maybe some day I'll find out what I promised 34 years ago. For now I know it was a good deal. I've kept my promise (whatever it was). Lois has kept hers. The journey continues, and I like it.

Debt Crises and the Stanley Cup

Some time ago I was in a discussion about the various political upheavals we have been experiencing. Riots in Wisconsin (budget cuts), riots in Greece (budget cuts and debt crisis), riots in Vancouver (hockey – Canada has its own version of what is worth rioting for), and on and on. One member of our conversation laid the blame for all our troubles squarely at the foot of socialism. Of course Canadians would riot in Vancouver: We’re socialists!

One is tempted to tune the speaker out. He has (as they say) a bee in his bonnet about capitalism and socialism. Republicans (in the USA) are good; Democrats are bad. America in general is good; Canada in general is bad. International politics buttresses the argument – the United Kingdom is clearly in trouble because it is even more socialist than Canada. (Never mind that Canada and the UK both have Tory governments; when the bee is buzzing it doesn’t look for full facts.)

I’m sure I have misrepresented my friend’s viewpoint, but not by much. It sparks two thoughts for me. One is stated quickly: Resorting to this kind of stereotyping cuts off discussion, which is unfortunate. When I press him beyond his stereotypes, he shows himself to be thoughtful and intelligent, with good reasons for the positions he holds. His positions may be incomplete and a bit arbitrary, but so are mine. I wish that we could have more discussion in which we could both give reasons and leave out the stereotypes: We have something to learn from each other.

The second is the larger, more important point. When one discounts a group of people and all that they say, one tends to mis-diagnose the reasons for – in this case – the riots in various places. In the example I began with, attributing the riots in Vancouver to socialism in Canada is nonsense, but a bee in the bonnet buzzes whenever the enemy is in sight. The result is failure to see real causes, and thus failure to deal with real causes.

What was the real cause? I don’t know. But I contrast the events in Greece and London and Vancouver with the recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan. If any event should have led to rioting and looting on a mass scale, these events could have. But instead we read reports of Japanese people queueing quietly, remaining orderly under great stress? Why?

I don’t think that the difference between Vancouver and Japan has anything to do with political systems, some sort of socialist-capitalist divide. Nor is it simply a difference between Asians and North Americans – there are so many Asians in Vancouver that one could look for similarity on that account rather than so sharp a difference.

I would locate the difference in the larger Canadian and larger Japanese context. Canada has built a society on individualism writ large. Privacy laws elevate the individual above community. The Charter of Rights and Freedoms serves as a fundamental social and legal document to enshrine the individual as the basic building block of society. Japanese society is more communally-oriented, with politeness and harmony enshrined as the fundamental qualities needed to live.

Canadians are called “polite”, especially in comparison to our American cousins. But we would lose any politeness competition between Canada and Japan. Noel Paul Stookey (of the 1960s folk group, Peter, Paul and Mary) tells a story of performing in Japan. He comments that when they met anyone in Japan, they realized that they could never outdo them in polite behaviour.

When a great tragedy strikes – such as the earthquake and tsunami, or the loss of the Stanley Cup (I know that’s a lesser tragedy, but hey!)– underlying social values are revealed. The Japanese people continued to seek harmony and help each other. The crowd in Vancouver let off steam by rioting. Now Canadians have shown the ability to work together and help each other out in times of crisis. The floods that we experience regularly here on the prairies show Canadians at their communal and helpful best. But what is most clear to me is that social analyses such as my friend’s – it’s because they’re socialist – are badly misplaced.

I am working at this myself (more or less successfully): I want to move past easy stereotypes and avoid laying blame quickly in the various crises we face. I think that certain social and political positions make the best sense, but those with whom I disagree strongly often have significant wisdom for all of us to include in our social and political decisions. And we have a much better chance at solving the problems before us (such as the debt crisis) if we stop blaming each other and listen to each other more carefully.

A simple, almost naive, conclusion, but true nonetheless.