In a time of great national moment, community events, personal concerns and eternal challenges, I seem to have regressed and blocked out the world for a time. There are occasions when we find ourselves overwhelmed with stories of sorrows and job losses, family disorders and worldwide disorders, and for me, that is when I grab my “banky” and head for the corner to suck my thumb in solace. So for today, I must register a complaint: I don’t have a Blackberry. After learning that our President was able to hold on to his in spite of security concerns for him, I feel justified in wanting my very own Blackberry.
I’ve scoured the internet for a site that might sell them for a drop-dead price. I’ve had friends tutor me in the basics so that I would be ready for this amazing piece of communication to add to my collection of gadgets, thus feeding my obsession with new items that come on the market. No one in my circle of acquaintances, meaning my co-elderly classmates for example, comprehend this passion for NEW inventions and contraptions that entrap me in their novelty.
I’ve lectured myself with scripture passages about not serving two masters, and the priority of tending to the least among us, and the threats of all those “woes” for any who seek their own advantage and not their neighbor’s. I have humbled myself and offered to do penance for weeks at a time but still hold on to the vision of that magical little object that with a press of a finger or two can bring the world to my hands through the wonders of electronics.
It doesn’t matter that I have very little real need for a Blackberry. It doesn’t matter that over 70% of the gadgets I’ve collected over the years have seen maybe 20% usage in their time. It is the thrill of the hunt, the challenge to take on new tasks or maybe take on new widgets to accomplish the new tasks for me. I’ve probably just put myself in some personality disorder category, but it is so much fun to explore the marketplaces for gadgets that perform near miracles in my eyes. It is difficult, however, to justify neglecting those matters that really count in order to add one more unnecessary item to my shelf or my desk or in my purse. The voice that sits on my shoulder keeps on speaking of the needs of the world, the injustices perpetrated daily against the people and other creatures on this planet, the wasted environments and the heart-rending warfare which never ends. So now I let go of this indefensible longing for unnecessary possessions and get back to the Real World.
But it would be so much fun to have a Blackberry . . .
Monday, January 26, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
“Ring in the New?”
Every time a new year shows up, the talk is constant about doing something different from what we did the year before: stop eating so much, lose weight, give up bad habits, be kinder to the unpleasant in-laws, seek forgiveness from the pleasant ones. Learn another language. Write the Great American Novel. Join the community service organizations so long ignored. Call that best friend and highschool classmate to renew acquaintances after 35 years. Memorize the list of US Presidents, in order. Memorize the books of the Bible, in order. Memorize the state capitals. (What we forget is that we did these memory exercises once but it was so long ago that we can’t remember them . . . .) And on it goes. Along about February or March, the list has shortened, and by June we wonder what it was we had decided to do this year.
What if we make promises to ourselves that won’t be forgotten? What if instead of changing old habits we simply adopt new ones? Some years ago I read a book on tennis in which the premise was that rather than struggle with changing or conquering old habits of swinging the racket and serving and other ways of playing, we should develop new and better ways to play the game. The mind was likened to a record (remember those disks we used to hear music on?) with the grooves set into the vinyl which were then set permanently. Rather than try to remove those grooves, far better to set new grooves which would replace the old ones. So let’s resolve to forget about changing our habits, and create new ones which override what we used to do.
Far be it from me to tell you what you need to do, other than suggest that you find new ways to live your life that will be an improvement on the former ones. Think about your attitudes, your use of time, your expectations. Can they be replaced with better ways? I find that guilt plays a big part in how I don’t act in ways that are best for me. I eat way too much of the wrong food groups, for instance. Friends are always giving me ideas and recipes for a healthier lifestyle. I find these most helpful and interesting, and one of these days I’ll probably try some of them. Because I haven’t done so yet, I feel guilty, and to assuage that guilt, I find that a good bowl of ice cream is most comforting to the spirit, if not so comforting to the body I inhabit.
You may have noticed I’ve not mentioned our church life. I’ve ignored the features of our faith journeys. I have not mentioned the importance of community and its imprint upon our belief systems. The value of faith is not so much how well it benefits us, but how well it benefits others. If we really want to find a better way of living and develop the patterns that will take us there, the focus begins to turn outward rather than inward. It is, strangely enough, when we forget ourselves that we remember others. It is when we become willing to give up that we receive. These are more than platitudes that we discover on those emails our friends send to us. They are the real, nitty-gritty requirements of living a life to the fullest.
We can’t embrace the whole gamut of what calls to us in this world of great needs. But we begin somewhere. My one suggestion is to begin with discovering how membership in Fellowship Presbyterian Church can stretch our perspectives so that we see the world as it is and not our own small space unless it connects beyond our comfort and beyond our present understandings. Let’s take some stretching exercises and see where they take us in this chaotic world of 2009.
What if we make promises to ourselves that won’t be forgotten? What if instead of changing old habits we simply adopt new ones? Some years ago I read a book on tennis in which the premise was that rather than struggle with changing or conquering old habits of swinging the racket and serving and other ways of playing, we should develop new and better ways to play the game. The mind was likened to a record (remember those disks we used to hear music on?) with the grooves set into the vinyl which were then set permanently. Rather than try to remove those grooves, far better to set new grooves which would replace the old ones. So let’s resolve to forget about changing our habits, and create new ones which override what we used to do.
Far be it from me to tell you what you need to do, other than suggest that you find new ways to live your life that will be an improvement on the former ones. Think about your attitudes, your use of time, your expectations. Can they be replaced with better ways? I find that guilt plays a big part in how I don’t act in ways that are best for me. I eat way too much of the wrong food groups, for instance. Friends are always giving me ideas and recipes for a healthier lifestyle. I find these most helpful and interesting, and one of these days I’ll probably try some of them. Because I haven’t done so yet, I feel guilty, and to assuage that guilt, I find that a good bowl of ice cream is most comforting to the spirit, if not so comforting to the body I inhabit.
You may have noticed I’ve not mentioned our church life. I’ve ignored the features of our faith journeys. I have not mentioned the importance of community and its imprint upon our belief systems. The value of faith is not so much how well it benefits us, but how well it benefits others. If we really want to find a better way of living and develop the patterns that will take us there, the focus begins to turn outward rather than inward. It is, strangely enough, when we forget ourselves that we remember others. It is when we become willing to give up that we receive. These are more than platitudes that we discover on those emails our friends send to us. They are the real, nitty-gritty requirements of living a life to the fullest.
We can’t embrace the whole gamut of what calls to us in this world of great needs. But we begin somewhere. My one suggestion is to begin with discovering how membership in Fellowship Presbyterian Church can stretch our perspectives so that we see the world as it is and not our own small space unless it connects beyond our comfort and beyond our present understandings. Let’s take some stretching exercises and see where they take us in this chaotic world of 2009.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
God Will and Does Provide
I have recently been thinking a lot about God, his love for us and about how he takes care of his own. The process started a number of months ago, and the term "good shepherd" has for me taken on an all new meaning.
My heart sank the day I heard Gray's time-off announced. With a plethora of attendance and financial issues, my first thought was "...is this the beginning of an inevitable and unavoidable end?" How in the world could he leave now -- with a stewardship campaign looming and Advent and Christmas seasons virtually around the corner.
But then God stepped in! I realized that he had been there all along, just maybe not as visible as I'd like. And people started coming out of the woodwork lead by Jean Rodenbough and a small army of volunteers. And GOD DID PROVIDE.
Attendance remained stable -- even at times seeming in increase. Spirits stayed good. "Fellowship" took on a new meaning -- all because the tender but insistent hand of God was there.
I saw an article this morning that was both humorous and thought provoking; and I'm closing this blog entry with it.
God Will Provide
A young woman brings home her fiance to meet her parents. After dinner, her mother tells her father to find out about the young man. The father invites the fiancee to his study for a drink.
"So what are your plans?" the father asks the young man. "I am a Torah scholar." he replies.
"A Torah scholar. Hmmm," the father says. "Admirable, but what will you do to provide a nice house for my daughter to live in, as she's accustomed to?" "I will study," the young man replies, "and God will provide for us."
"And how will you buy her a beautiful engagement ring, such as she deserves?" asks the father.
"I will concentrate on my studies," the young man replies, "God will provide for us."
"And children?" asks the father. "How will you support children?" "Don't worry, sir, God will provide," replies the fiance.
The conversation proceeds like this, and each time the father questions, the young idealist insists that God will provide.
Later, the mother asks, "How did it go, Honey?" The father answers, "He has no job and no plans, but the good news is he thinks I'm God."
My heart sank the day I heard Gray's time-off announced. With a plethora of attendance and financial issues, my first thought was "...is this the beginning of an inevitable and unavoidable end?" How in the world could he leave now -- with a stewardship campaign looming and Advent and Christmas seasons virtually around the corner.
But then God stepped in! I realized that he had been there all along, just maybe not as visible as I'd like. And people started coming out of the woodwork lead by Jean Rodenbough and a small army of volunteers. And GOD DID PROVIDE.
Attendance remained stable -- even at times seeming in increase. Spirits stayed good. "Fellowship" took on a new meaning -- all because the tender but insistent hand of God was there.
I saw an article this morning that was both humorous and thought provoking; and I'm closing this blog entry with it.
God Will Provide
A young woman brings home her fiance to meet her parents. After dinner, her mother tells her father to find out about the young man. The father invites the fiancee to his study for a drink.
"So what are your plans?" the father asks the young man. "I am a Torah scholar." he replies.
"A Torah scholar. Hmmm," the father says. "Admirable, but what will you do to provide a nice house for my daughter to live in, as she's accustomed to?" "I will study," the young man replies, "and God will provide for us."
"And how will you buy her a beautiful engagement ring, such as she deserves?" asks the father.
"I will concentrate on my studies," the young man replies, "God will provide for us."
"And children?" asks the father. "How will you support children?" "Don't worry, sir, God will provide," replies the fiance.
The conversation proceeds like this, and each time the father questions, the young idealist insists that God will provide.
Later, the mother asks, "How did it go, Honey?" The father answers, "He has no job and no plans, but the good news is he thinks I'm God."
Blog entry provided by John Fair
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