It will soon be 30 years since my father died. He was a small man, taking after his mother, but what he lacked in stature he made up for in an extraordinary amount of home spun wisdom that for the most part was wasted on me during the time it would have been most beneficial. Like many of his generation his formal education was short lived with most of what he knew resulting from paying attention to life. His “higher” education came from North Africa and Italy during the Second World War and years spent focusing on responsibility to his family and community. It is only now that I am at the age where remembering things my father told me seems to be easier then recalling the code for the garage door opener, that the effect of my father’s little “pearls” has become clear.
Dad’s solutions, which were not taught but non-the-less caught, were quite simple, first; Do what works. If it doesn’t work, do something else. Secondly, none of us are better then any of us. Always remember what you say is who you are so remember who you are. Finally, always do your best. Maybe it’s the age thing but is seems to me in a world that has become increasingly polarized by ideologies that this basic common sense has been misplaced.
What if we did what works rather then doing nothing because we can’t agree on what works? The willingness to be flexible has been compromised by the gods of idealism. It’s good to have a sense of who you are and where you’ve come from. A tradition of thinking that ties us to who we have been and defines who we have become is a good thing. However, blind faith is just that, blind. Tradition is faithfulness to the living ideas of the dead. Traditionalism is faithfulness to the dead ideas of the living. Traditions says, “How can we change and remain faithful to who we are?” Traditionalism says, “How can we stay the same at all costs?” The first is inclusive the second exclusive. It is many times characterized by subtleties, such as the ideology behind the statement; “You’re either for us or against us.” rather then, “If you’re not for us you’re against us.” The first statement sets up the 100% solution that if you don’t think and act like we do there is no other choice than to be “outside.” The second statement exposes the crack of flexibility and becomes the starting point of compromise rather then the ending point. The 100% solution is usually not the solution because it alienates rather then integrates.
It seems as though things have become more one dimensional. People are categorized by one issue definitions. You can be conservative or liberal, business or labor, pro security or privacy, tax or anti-tax, bigger government or smaller government but being a liberal businessperson that favors the idea of minimum living wages is outside of many professed ideologies. The result of the 100% solution is the fanaticism of polarization. Rather it is in government, religion, or personal affairs ideas have become more divergent, less tolerant, and more offensive in dealing with different opinions. The axiom that the purpose of the confrontation of compromise is to change relationships has fallen into disfavor.
The 100% solution has always had an effect on all levels of culture. Human history if full of the pendulum of tolerance and intolerance and I suppose this is no different. Dad would say, “Sit down and think about it for a minute, none of us are better then any of us. Remember who you are and just do your best.”
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Brilliant prairie days
It was one of those brilliant prairie days that gleam in your memory like the first time you discovered that birthdays meant presents. The sun looked down from a cloudless sky as the wind moved relentlessly through the field of tombstones bowing the sparse trees in dutiful adulation. My thoughts of those who slept here were painted with faces and stories of a time when life was not as charitable. Even in death these resilient and enduring people steel their faces to the inhospitality of an unforgiving land. Their very presence on this prairie hill behind the small white church presents the inordinate concept of resilient restoration even in death.
This prairie cemetery brought to mind another grave scene in Bethany in which another resilient restoration occurred. The story opens with Yeshua telling His disciples that their friend was dead and they were going to be taught a lesson. This is frequently the way that Yeshua begins His restoration projects by stating “OK, this part of your life is dead, let’s deal with it.” The disciples, being very good disciples, are ready to begin interpreting what is about to happen and as usual they miss the mark. I can imagine the trip to the grave was full of theological intent, prophetic speculation, and a good bit of complaining. It didn’t stop when they arrived; even the well intentioned tried to move away from the point of the trouble. Lazarus sister Mary said, “Lord if you had been here…” and not off preaching somewhere you might have saved him. But just as Yeshua still does with us He says “Where have you laid him?” Where is the dead part of your life? Let’s not spend any more time on “should have, could have, and would have” let’s go to where the body is buried. Because the prospect of restoration is not palatable and therefore not initially chosen, we say, “Lord don’t open it! It stinks in there.” We’ve been devout believers but these things have been hidden so long we can’t imagine what will happen if they are let loose again. He says, “Do you believe me or don’t you?” Let’s roll back the stone.
What a dramatic example of G-d’s willingness to restore us to Himself. We each have our own hidden places that keep us from moving closer to G-d. He hasn’t changed His methods and still brings us back to the place that keeps us from complete restoration. Just as He called Lazarus out for the grave and death He calls us out of those things that keep us away from Him. He wants resilient restoration but it’s up to us to roll away the stone.
This prairie cemetery brought to mind another grave scene in Bethany in which another resilient restoration occurred. The story opens with Yeshua telling His disciples that their friend was dead and they were going to be taught a lesson. This is frequently the way that Yeshua begins His restoration projects by stating “OK, this part of your life is dead, let’s deal with it.” The disciples, being very good disciples, are ready to begin interpreting what is about to happen and as usual they miss the mark. I can imagine the trip to the grave was full of theological intent, prophetic speculation, and a good bit of complaining. It didn’t stop when they arrived; even the well intentioned tried to move away from the point of the trouble. Lazarus sister Mary said, “Lord if you had been here…” and not off preaching somewhere you might have saved him. But just as Yeshua still does with us He says “Where have you laid him?” Where is the dead part of your life? Let’s not spend any more time on “should have, could have, and would have” let’s go to where the body is buried. Because the prospect of restoration is not palatable and therefore not initially chosen, we say, “Lord don’t open it! It stinks in there.” We’ve been devout believers but these things have been hidden so long we can’t imagine what will happen if they are let loose again. He says, “Do you believe me or don’t you?” Let’s roll back the stone.
What a dramatic example of G-d’s willingness to restore us to Himself. We each have our own hidden places that keep us from moving closer to G-d. He hasn’t changed His methods and still brings us back to the place that keeps us from complete restoration. Just as He called Lazarus out for the grave and death He calls us out of those things that keep us away from Him. He wants resilient restoration but it’s up to us to roll away the stone.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Sea of Galilee sunset
...vivid impressions of G-d’s touch and an unexplainable feeling of connection to another time and place...
Sunset at Ma'Agan kibbutz on the south shore of the Sea of Galilee.
Sunset at Ma'Agan kibbutz on the south shore of the Sea of Galilee.
Home again
It had been a while since I had visited. The trip back had been filled with a torrent of memories and as the crest of the hill disappeared before me the remembering became vivid, almost visible. My mother and father, those early times together in love and caring ignited feeling of life lessons learned, and an unexplainable feeling of connection to another time and place. It was a different place than I was seeing in memory. The buildings were gone and none of the physical signs that a farm had ever been there remained, except for a few abnormal mounds and depression that gave faint impressions of human touch. Yet through my mind’s eye something else appeared. The places that I had experienced and written on my heart years earlier sprang to life as a vision in the mist. I was home again.
Fortune and G-d’s favor allowed for a recent visit to Israel as part of the Union of Messianic Jewish Congregations’ conference and tour. Schedule did not permit a lot of thought or expectation building. I just didn’t have the luxury of spending much time thinking about it, therefore the journey to Eretz Israel came without much expectation. However, I did have my mental picture gleaned from reading scripture, hearing sermons, and seeing travel logs. In my mind it was a broad and vast land filled with palm trees, mountains, quiet pools, and people in bathrobes. It was a spiritual storybook land that had been the place of parables, history, and G-d’s presence. The flight there did little to change these pre-conceptions and was not much more than a succession of small seats, bad food, and waiting for something to happen. Though presenting an extraordinary blend of modern and historic imagery, the Tel Aviv airport did little to arouse anything other than “what’s next?”
Then to the bus and out into “the land.” It was on the bus, within the first half hour, that I began to feel the “crest of the hill” feeling of coming home that quite frankly surprised me. How could I feel like I’m coming home to a place that I had never been and have only thin ancestral connection? This just didn’t make sense. But in spite of what my mind continued to remind me of, my heart did not listen. The longer I was in the land the more feelings of being “home again” kept growing. As I finally yielded to G-d’s attempt to get my attention, the mental realization of this not only being the homeland of the Jewish people, but the homeland of every believer began to unveil itself in consciousness. I knew this place, though skewed in interpretation. It was the place where water had been turned to wine, where people had been raised from the dead, and where G-d’s presence had been revealed. The storybook land turned into the mounds and depressions that gave vivid impressions of G-d’s touch and an unexplainable feeling of connection to another time and place. The Negev, the Sea of Galilee, Capernaum, and on and on pealed scale after scale from my spiritual eyes to reveal the simple fact that this was G-d’s “home town.” This is a place where, as believers, we have in our hearts all visited. I was home again.
Fortune and G-d’s favor allowed for a recent visit to Israel as part of the Union of Messianic Jewish Congregations’ conference and tour. Schedule did not permit a lot of thought or expectation building. I just didn’t have the luxury of spending much time thinking about it, therefore the journey to Eretz Israel came without much expectation. However, I did have my mental picture gleaned from reading scripture, hearing sermons, and seeing travel logs. In my mind it was a broad and vast land filled with palm trees, mountains, quiet pools, and people in bathrobes. It was a spiritual storybook land that had been the place of parables, history, and G-d’s presence. The flight there did little to change these pre-conceptions and was not much more than a succession of small seats, bad food, and waiting for something to happen. Though presenting an extraordinary blend of modern and historic imagery, the Tel Aviv airport did little to arouse anything other than “what’s next?”
Then to the bus and out into “the land.” It was on the bus, within the first half hour, that I began to feel the “crest of the hill” feeling of coming home that quite frankly surprised me. How could I feel like I’m coming home to a place that I had never been and have only thin ancestral connection? This just didn’t make sense. But in spite of what my mind continued to remind me of, my heart did not listen. The longer I was in the land the more feelings of being “home again” kept growing. As I finally yielded to G-d’s attempt to get my attention, the mental realization of this not only being the homeland of the Jewish people, but the homeland of every believer began to unveil itself in consciousness. I knew this place, though skewed in interpretation. It was the place where water had been turned to wine, where people had been raised from the dead, and where G-d’s presence had been revealed. The storybook land turned into the mounds and depressions that gave vivid impressions of G-d’s touch and an unexplainable feeling of connection to another time and place. The Negev, the Sea of Galilee, Capernaum, and on and on pealed scale after scale from my spiritual eyes to reveal the simple fact that this was G-d’s “home town.” This is a place where, as believers, we have in our hearts all visited. I was home again.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
On presenting Faulkner's First Edition
To my dear friend:
Life’s character is undiscovered country and at times is relentless in the presentation of its common and ordinary nature. If we, by lack of perception or pure inattention, are persuaded to embrace this adaptation, life emerges painted in muted tones.
Yet life’s nature has a much broader and deeper richness of tone then accepted by inattentiveness. It is abounding with beauty and delight that is offered for the taking by passionate seekers of its heart.
If life can do no more then illustrate its nature, it has outdone itself with you. You are a First Edition, one of a kind, an uncommon individual that continues to reveal the deep colors of life to all who know you.
Life’s character is undiscovered country and at times is relentless in the presentation of its common and ordinary nature. If we, by lack of perception or pure inattention, are persuaded to embrace this adaptation, life emerges painted in muted tones.
Yet life’s nature has a much broader and deeper richness of tone then accepted by inattentiveness. It is abounding with beauty and delight that is offered for the taking by passionate seekers of its heart.
If life can do no more then illustrate its nature, it has outdone itself with you. You are a First Edition, one of a kind, an uncommon individual that continues to reveal the deep colors of life to all who know you.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
In the Mirror
As I sat at the bar and looked at myself in the mirror the answer became clear. The irony of the situation did not escape me. A bar is usually the place where things become less clear; however at that point there was unmistakable clarity. I had been here before, maybe not in this place but at this same juncture. The beginning.
Frank Herbert in his classic science fiction trilogy, Dune, begins with an oddly poignant statement, “A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct.” It is a time that only happens once no matter what the clichés say about beginning again or being reborn. The beginning is always different. America has just completed one of the most significant elections in its history. It’s not that the sacrifices required or the resources available are not quality but it is, at the end of the day, simply the unveiling of another opportunity, another beginning. The accolades, analysis, and well wishing aside it is an opportunity to begin.
It is my belief that we all need to become good at beginnings because life is full of them. Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic. (Herbert) Life continually reinvents itself, and we all wander in the same wilderness. Becoming too comfortable with the place you’re at, your accomplishments, or your capabilities, invites stagnation. Greatness is a transitory experience. It is never consistent. It depends in part upon the myth-making imagination of humankind (Herbert).
The secret is to recognize that the beginning itself is what is significant. The opportunity to attack a problem from another direction, and possibly pull out a noteworthy end, is a challenge without equal. We stand poised for the first step of another beginning. Things will go wrong. Every civilization must contend with an unconscious force which can block, betray or countermand almost any conscious intention of the collectivity. (Herbert) However, things will also go right and the delicate undertaking of the beginning will increase the rights and decrease the wrongs.
So in the mirror, “Truth suffers from too much analysis.” (Herbert) It is the challenge of beginning, the opportunity, and getting the balance right that makes life worth coming back. This is our chance. (Again.)
Frank Herbert in his classic science fiction trilogy, Dune, begins with an oddly poignant statement, “A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct.” It is a time that only happens once no matter what the clichés say about beginning again or being reborn. The beginning is always different. America has just completed one of the most significant elections in its history. It’s not that the sacrifices required or the resources available are not quality but it is, at the end of the day, simply the unveiling of another opportunity, another beginning. The accolades, analysis, and well wishing aside it is an opportunity to begin.
It is my belief that we all need to become good at beginnings because life is full of them. Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic. (Herbert) Life continually reinvents itself, and we all wander in the same wilderness. Becoming too comfortable with the place you’re at, your accomplishments, or your capabilities, invites stagnation. Greatness is a transitory experience. It is never consistent. It depends in part upon the myth-making imagination of humankind (Herbert).
The secret is to recognize that the beginning itself is what is significant. The opportunity to attack a problem from another direction, and possibly pull out a noteworthy end, is a challenge without equal. We stand poised for the first step of another beginning. Things will go wrong. Every civilization must contend with an unconscious force which can block, betray or countermand almost any conscious intention of the collectivity. (Herbert) However, things will also go right and the delicate undertaking of the beginning will increase the rights and decrease the wrongs.
So in the mirror, “Truth suffers from too much analysis.” (Herbert) It is the challenge of beginning, the opportunity, and getting the balance right that makes life worth coming back. This is our chance. (Again.)
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Rabbi Ari's Synogogue
...G-d remains active and present in this noisy world. If we want to hear him we have to pay attention...
Rabbi Ari's Synogogue, Israel
Rabbi Ari's Synogogue, Israel
I don't sleep well
I don’t sleep well. That’s not to say I’m not a good sleeper. I suppose more accurately I’m a short sleeper. Getting up two or three times every night to stroll around the house, talk to G-d, talk to the cat, or make notes to myself has become normal. At first I was somewhat distraught rehearsing how miserable tomorrow would be if sleep continued its perforated character. Then one night I had a “defining moment”, much like Esther’s ”such a time as this?" defining moment presented by Rabbi Silverman in the Purim message. It came to me in a blinding flash of the obvious, “this is a time to listen”. After that everything was different and I even somewhat enjoy this second sleep idea because in the quiet of the night G-d’s voice seems more singular. It is important to know G-d’s voice in this noisy world full of a virtual cacophony of sounds that continually bombard the ear and cloud the mind.
My defining moment leads me to think about Passover and how G-d’s protection and guidance redeemed the Jewish people from their harsh bondage and saved them from death itself. What if there had been no one to hear and recognizes the voice of G-d. What if Moses would have come down from the mountain and said to his wife, “I saw the darnedest thing, a bush that burned and was not destroyed. You don’t see that every day. What a coincidence.” He would have missed a defining moment and everything would have been different. What if the Hebrew slave that, rather than shaking his head and wagging his finger at Moses, said, “I think I’m going to put blood on my door post.” and changed the history of a nation and the world.
Passover teaches many lessons. The one I think about now is how G-d remains active and present in this noisy world. If we want to hear him we have to pay attention. We can’t sleep through His constant attempts to protect, guide, redeem, and save. He has not stopped speaking or become disinterested. He hears us as we rehearse the miseries of life and waits for us to wake up and recognize that He’s been here all the time waiting to help.
My defining moment leads me to think about Passover and how G-d’s protection and guidance redeemed the Jewish people from their harsh bondage and saved them from death itself. What if there had been no one to hear and recognizes the voice of G-d. What if Moses would have come down from the mountain and said to his wife, “I saw the darnedest thing, a bush that burned and was not destroyed. You don’t see that every day. What a coincidence.” He would have missed a defining moment and everything would have been different. What if the Hebrew slave that, rather than shaking his head and wagging his finger at Moses, said, “I think I’m going to put blood on my door post.” and changed the history of a nation and the world.
Passover teaches many lessons. The one I think about now is how G-d remains active and present in this noisy world. If we want to hear him we have to pay attention. We can’t sleep through His constant attempts to protect, guide, redeem, and save. He has not stopped speaking or become disinterested. He hears us as we rehearse the miseries of life and waits for us to wake up and recognize that He’s been here all the time waiting to help.
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