Just Janis

I hear the rustle outside our front door. She is back! Again! She must have heard us when we came into the house through our back door, even though it is far from her nest. It seems like she somehow just “knows” that we are home.

I glance up at the door and sure enough, there she is clinging to the screen, all four feet like suction cups poking through the tiny squares of our front door window screen. She chatters and “pounds” on the screen until we open the door.

We have named her “Bezastite,” Latvian for “no tail.” The name suits her because instead of a normal bushy tail, she sports a tiny stub of what was once there. Although hardly original, for us a dear and affectionate name. If she could talk, she would probably tell us what happened, but alas, our limited communication skills at least on our end relegate her story to guess work.

It all started one day when she showed up on the sidewalk in front of our house. She just sat there staring at us. We spoke to her and tossed her a peanut or two. She grabbed them with her paws and deftly cracked and ate them as we watched. When she finished, she chattered a bit, and turning her tail-less backside scrambled up the bark of a nearby tree. From that first encounter it became a daily ritual. If we did not respond quickly enough to her chatter she would jump up on the screen and pound her paws until we showed up with her dinner.

Our daughters were young then and would sit on the front steps, and when “No tail” came they would feed her holding the peanuts in their tiny hands. When the girls would reach out to pet her, she agreed, in fact welcoming the human touch as if she was a seasoned family pet. Once in a while “No tail” would bring a fury friend, but none of them ever came closer than allowing for us to toss the peanuts from a safe distance.

I wonder what caused her to bond with us? Why did she, a wild animal trust us? was she not afraid, as all the others are? I do know this; we can take no credit for this wonderful thing. We did not encourage or train her. We were simply there when she sensed we could help her somehow.

She took the initiative, she came to us, she decided and controlled the terms of engagement. I think it happened because of her own loss. She was incomplete, and somewhere in her animal psyche she understood that. Without a tail she could not maneuver with the skill of a full-tailed squirrel. She could not easily negotiate telephone wires or keep her balance while flying from branch to branch in our urban forest. She made up for these losses by taking the first step to cross over the invisible barrier between animal and human, wild and domesticated.

And I would like to think that somewhere in her animal brain and spirit, she understood that this family of humans young and old were safe to be with. Perhaps in that unspoken silent language of the heart – she, and we connected. All, sentient beings want fundamentally the same thing. To live. To experience pleasure and joy. To be valued and accepted. To feel safe. To be loved. To be remembered.

If we are honest, we will admit that we too have a missing something. If not a tail, then a broken dream, a shattered relationship, or a deep disappointment, and just like our, Bezastite, we need a little help once in a while to get by.

Even a squirrel without a tail can understand that.

The unseasonably warm weather these last few days has caused our local songbird population to begin their morning concerts earlier than usual. It is a joy to wake to the sounds of Cardinals, warblers and scores of other “singers,” that fill the early morning hours as the sun appears.

When we moved to Cedarburg many years ago, we had a parakeet among our many pets. At times she was irritating with her chatter, the only language that she had. It often reached a higher pitch when we were in the kitchen.  Only now I full appreciate that this was her only social life – talking to us in his excitable language.

We “hushed” her at times with a kitchen towel draped on her cage to keep her quiet.  How cruel.  The bird’s entire existence was framed and formed by our interaction with her.  She had no experiences outside that cage to talk about.  No school tales, and meetings with friends.  No travels and week-end visits to interesting places.  Just her 12 X 18-inch cage for nine years.

And yet, when she was dying, for several days she struggled just to breath.  Her last valiant act, the day before she died, was to reach the swinging perch she spent most of her waking (and sleeping hours) on. As she struggled up the side of the cage, I saw a kinship between her and all of God’s creatures and her will to live.  she was just a bird you may say, and you would be right.  But she was also a part of our family experience.

Our girls grew and matured during those nine years.  Our family experienced both losses and celebrations.  We changed, yet stayed the same.  And through it all our little parakeet faithfully chattered on.

She became such a fixture in our day-to-day life that I scarce but noticed her, except to get irritated by the noise whenever I spoke to someone within her hearing.  I wonder how often I treat the people who surround my life the same way. Especially those who are closest to me?  Do I find them irritating?  Their questions endless?  Their presence and demands frustrating?  I think so, and that saddens me.

So today I thank our little green and yellow friend for reminding me once again that no matter how important I might think my life and priorities are – the true importance of living lies in the way I treat “the least of these, my sisters and brothers.”  Fellow creatures doing the best they can to live and find meaning in their days.

It is Easter Sunday, and we are driving to Wauwatosa to have lunch with members of our family. It is a beautiful, sunny, warm, gentle day. Perfect. We stop at the intersection of 92nd. Street and Hampton Road in Milwaukee. There is a lot of traffic as people are enjoying a beautiful warm, sunny day. Aina says to me; “When the light turns green, don’t go.” The light turns green and suddenly I hear a crash and look up in time to see a silver-colored vehicle smash into a black SUV causing it to fly through the air in front of us landing on its roof. It is surreal. The black SUV flips over onto its side, next to us. That moment is frozen in time. We move through the intersection in shock, shaken by what we have witnessed, and cognizant of how close we have come to death. Yes, just a few feet to the West, and the SUV would have landed on our windshield. We arrive at Wauwatosa and enjoy a wonderful meal and conversation with our family members. But the crash continues to speak to us. It lives with us. It talks to us. It haunts us. And most of all it instructs us as to the incredibly fragile nature of our lives and destiny. Who knows what may be lurking around the corner. And all it took was, a split-second! I wonder how many lives were changed forever. I wonder how close we, and others came to realizing the same fate. And I wonder why? And I wonder why I am so driven to find out. On this, the day after the accident I savor the moment, and the opportunity to write about that which continues to haunt me.

Post-war Germany was a virtual wasteland of twisted metal, glass shards reflecting the sun like so many sheets of ice, and rubble everywhere.  You could not walk without stepping on something that would likely cut through the sole of your worn-out shoes.  I remember images of abandoned wartime metal containers filled with fetid water.  The shells of burned-out cars parked permanently in Helter-skelter dissonance.

Everything seemed either grey, black or rust.  In the five-plus years that our family lived in Germany, we lived in eight different Displacement Persons Camps.  Thankfully, by some dumb luck or providential intervention, we landed in the English Zone.  After the war, Germany was divided into four separate zones, run by Britain, France, the US, and the Soviet Union.

The Latvians who found themselves in the Russian Zone were not as fortunate as the rest of us. For an insight into what life was like for refugees in the Russian Zone, I sincerely suggest that you read “A Woman in Amber,” by Agate Nesaule whose New York Times bestseller, in my opinion, is the most compelling and accurate depiction of the fate of too many Latvians who unfortunately found themselves captive to Russian brutality.

Because we were in the English Zone my Father served in the Allied reconstruction effort as a truck driver wearing a British uniform as a member of what was known as the “Black Army,”  a reference to their black uniforms.  They did not carry weapons but rather worked to rebuild a shattered and devastated Germany.

My father was gone during the work week but would return on the weekend.  Every few weeks he would bring home a most welcome surprise.  A German pastry filled with sweet cream.  Oh how incredibly wonderful that was!  My mouth waters even as I write these words more than 70 years later.

My mother worked in a German factory that made aluminum suitcases as that was the only metal available immediately after the war.  Because they both had to work I was dropped off at an acquaintances house during the day.  That caused me such trauma that to this day I suffer from separation anxiety.  At age 74 I still experience anxiety and fear from those early experiences.  I  can only begin to imagine how much worse, how horrific and inhumane it is to separate children from their parents at our southern border.  That is a crime beyond comprehension and we as Americans should be deeply troubled and ashamed that our government is causing that to happen.

There are other stories from the first five years of my life but those are for another time.  This story is about a little tin cup and what it still means to me.

Once a week all the children were asked to form a line in the city square and the kind people of the city would give each child a tin cup of warm milk and a small piece of dark bread with sardines.  This kindness was practiced even though the citizens of the city themselves were suffering the ravages of war and food was very scarce.  I shall never forget the smell of the milk and sardines, the dark bread that filled my empty stomach and the warmth of holding the tin cup in my hands.

The rest of the week each family struggled to get by with whatever they could find.  I remember that a delicious daily staple for many including us was the fat and bits of burnt bacon that are left in the pan after local residence had fried their meal.  When the pan cooled the mixture of lard and bacon bits was spread on dark rye bread, and it was heavenly.

Today, some people would consider it garbage, but for us, it was manna from heaven!  It really is all about perspective, isn’t it?  That little tin cup has helped form my ethics, morality, compassion, empathy, and gratitude that in the midst of horrible circumstances, in the midst of poverty and desperation, there are moments of grace and abundance that you carry with you the rest of your life.

I grieve for my fellow Americans who cannot understand or identify with people who are living in horrific situations in so many parts of the world and desperate to find safety and freedom as we did on April 4, 1950.  They are impoverished because they lack the gift of understanding what it means to be on the very edge of non-existence and then to find safety and freedom.  It is heaven.  It is grace.

 

I am most grateful for the openness, flexibility, and opportunity to find my voice among the various churches I have served.  And these very same communities have helped me clarify why I no longer consider myself a Christian.

This is because I have also learned that the answer to the most burning questions of the human community will not be found as long as we segregate ourselves into disparate communities and label ourselves into all too common and exclusionary (and actually non-existent except in name) groups called Liberals, Conservatives, Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians, Socialists, Anarchists, Christians, Agnostics, and Atheists.  No one is wholly and exclusively any of these things, and yet perhaps out of insecurity and fear we cluster together with like-minded people and thereby feel a sense of security and collective power.

I no longer feel a need to belong to any organized religion or group.  I do consider my moral compass to be formed and informed by the teachings of Rabbi Jesus of Nazareth who taught the universal message of forgiveness, acceptance, inclusion, compassion and unconditional love.  Not as a way to start or found a new religion, but to free us from religion and its demands and strictures.

 

 

When Jesus speaks of his father I believe he is not referring to an objectified power or presence outside of our humanness but to the very source of life and what makes us human.  To me that is God.  Some people who consider themselves Christian become angry, nervous and defensive when I talk about the fact that historically speaking Jesus was a Rabbi and died Jewish.  Simply put, he was not a Christian. He does not speak of or even hint at starting a new religion, but rather that we should reform the oppressive and greed-driven temple culture of his day.  How?

By practicing kindness.  By feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and those in prison.  Perhaps the best example of what I am talking about is found in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 25, verses 31-46.  The message is clear, and it is universal.  The words address “all the nations,” not any one particular group or religion.  By making your life your religion. That is what the Biblical word “repent” means.  The Greek word that is translated as repentance in this verse is metanoia.  One of the meanings of repent is “change of mind” or “to turn around.”  Literally, the word means “a change of mind about something.”

In other words “practice what you preach,”  or “Live what you believe.”  No other doctrine is needed.  Virtually every religion that I have studied over the years has at its core what we in the Western World have come to know as “The Golden Rule.”  “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

The Matthew passage I reference makes it abundantly clear that if we are looking for Jesus we might want to skip going to the temple to sacrifice an animal and bypass the magnificent cathedral and instead look for him in the lost, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked and voiceless ones.  Finding and embracing them, you will meet Jesus.  The central message of Jesus is a call for humankind to care for one another practicing kindness and unconditional love.

I personally reject the understanding that our sins (as defined by the church) are somehow removed by some magic act that horrifically calls for a father (God) to demand his only son’s death to atone for the sins of humanity.  I believe that understanding, called “substitutionary atonement,” regards Jesus as dying for others, instead of them, stems from the ancient Jewish practice of sacrificing animals to atone for human sin.  Jesus replaces the Scapegoat.  Humankind has evolved beyond that superstitious and primitive understanding to embrace an entirely different core idea from the teachings of Jesus.

It is we ourselves who are responsible, not only for our own behavior and welfare but the welfare of others as well.  We often hold onto superstitions and religious certainties because we are afraid to admit that the creation, indeed the cosmos itself for all its wonder can be, and is a very scary and unpredictable place.  So, we try to make it less frightening by creating a scenario that sounds plausible and brings us a measure of comfort.

I believe that God is life itself.  God is love, hope, compassion, wisdom, charity, light, healing, grace, and awareness, and is ultimately beyond objectification.  I love the practice I have seen in some Reformed Jewish worshiping communities when in print the name of God is written G-d, indicating that the essence of God will not be captured by mere human language in any word.  I do believe in God, just not the God that man and religion have created in our own image. 

I believe in a God that is in every breath.  In every moment.  A God that is everything that exists and not a Superhero in the sky that decides who goes to heaven and who goes to hell.  Hell, and heaven is not a place where we go after we die, they are conditions of life that exist here and now.

Today, as I reflect on the 74 years of life and 73 Christmases celebrated, I realize that I have gone full circle.  Full circle on a journey that began with what that little boy believed, to wandering off seeking meaning in everyone else’s understanding of life, only to return to where I began.  On the eve of a New Year, I am grateful that the little boy was right.

Blessed New Year to you and your loved ones.  May the journey that will be the year 2020 be graced with good health, hope, and the making of many memories!

 

Since  I am no longer serving a congregation as a full-time pastor I have decided to share my thoughts with you here in my blog and on Facebook.

I will re-work some of my sermons for a more general audience with sincere hope that you may find my writing not only interesting but perhaps even helpful as  we travel this road of life together.

On December 6, 2017 Washington Post reporter Christopher Ingraham wrote an article titled;

“The richest 1 percent now owns more of the country’s wealth than at any time in the past 50 years.”

He begins his analysis with the following two paragraphs;

“From 2013, the share of wealth owned by the 1 percent shot up by nearly three percentage points. Wealth owned by the bottom 90 percent, meanwhile, fell over the same period.  Today, the top 1 percent of households own more wealth than the bottom 90 percent combined.  That gap, between the wealthy and everyone else, has only become wider in the past several decades.”

 

I’m sure that some of you “old timers,” like me, will remember the 50’s Jack Benny television programs and his reputation for being extremely tight with his money. One of the best-known skits is when in his monologue he said:

“The other day a robber confronted me insisting; ‘Your money or your life!’ ” Benny just stands there with that wonderful look of puzzlement on his face for several moments. When pushed by the robber for his decision, the characteristically frugal Benny replies, “I’m thinking about it!’”

I wonder if you have noticed that there has been an ever-increasing interest in hoarding these last couple of years, and there is even a weekly program on public TV that addresses what really amounts to an addiction to “stuff” in our culture.

This is a modern version of the foolish man who Jesus speaks about who filled all his granaries and then dropped dead before he could enjoy any of his massive wealth!
Hoarders in the extreme are virtually buried in things. Boxes, paper bags, appliances, all kinds of things stacked high and wide and everywhere so that a person cannot even walk through a room in the normal way.

The program begins with a disastrous situation and then shows how through therapy and help people can overcome this addiction to stuff.

The overly simplistic yet most helpful explanation as to why this happens to people are that our culture has driven into our collective unconscious mind that what we own or have, defines who we are as human beings. Turns out that is an outright lie – and flies in the face of the Gospel.

This hoarding mentality is particularly dangerous because in most cases it creeps up on you unannounced and catches you unawares. Like other psychological abnormalities it thrusts you into denial, so that it may continue to overpower you.

People are shocked when they realize how deeply they have enmeshed themselves in acquiring things they do not need, or really want, when they are finally able to appreciate the depth of their problem.

You and I don’t have to be clinically tied to our possessions and be hoarders to appreciate the deeper lesson here…. that to identify with what we have so that we might find value as human beings never works….and in the extreme will rob you of your God-given self and destroy you spiritually.

When we are born into the world as infants we are necessarily totally self absorbed and self-centered. That is good, because we are at birth and infancy completely dependent on others to feed, cloth, bathe, and quite literally to keep us alive. As we grow and mature, however, it is hard to let that self-centeredness go and reverse the process into putting the other person first!

I’ve often thought that the so-called “original sin” is not a single act or moment that happened in the Garden of Eden after creation, but rather the idea that Genesis expresses with these words spoken by God, surprisingly in the plural:

“Then the Lord God said, ‘See, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil; and now, he might reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life, and eat, and live forever’ – “

Through our self-absorption and self-righteousness, we begin to think that it’s all about us….and who we are, and most especially in our culture what we have. If we allow our things to define us we will never achieve the balance that we so desperately seek in life.
French psychiatry professor David Servan-Schreiber wrote a fascinating article about identity and happiness titled: “Giving is Getting.” come as a surprise. As we know, Jesus drives that point home with a vengeance, turning all human logic upside-down!

“The last shall be first, and the first shall be last.”

“In order to live, you must die to self!”

“Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me!”

What Schreiber affirms from a clinical standpoint is what the Scriptures have been telling us all along. One problem is we don’t like to listen to things we disagree with. In 2nd. Timothy, chapter 4 it is recorded;

“Be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the uttermost patience in teaching. For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound doctrine, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own desires.”

In simple terms, people will go where they hear what they want to hear…. not what they need to hear! In many churches circles these folks are known as “Entertainment Evangelists.”

They often use whatever means are available to attract people and hold them by giving them what they enjoy.

They also, almost always preach what they, without shame call, the “Prosperity Doctrine.”

That means, simply believe in God and you will be materially wealthy beyond your wildest dreams! The problem is that this is blatantly false and the absolute opposite of what Jesus and the New Testament record teaches us.

As a recent in-depth study about wealth and happiness showed, and was announced on the morning news, the only correlation between extreme wealth and happiness is a negative one. Because, the more you have…. the more you want….and there is never enough!

Wealth too, like hoarding, can become an obsession or addiction.
There have been many studies to prove the truth of what Jesus teaches about giving and how powerful the effects of it are…. Dr. Schreiber cites just one example in the magazine ode:

“At Vancouver University in Canada, researcher Elizabeth Dunn gave small amounts of money to two groups of students. Members of the first group were told to spend it on themselves, paying bills or buying something. Members of the second were to use it for buying gifts or making charitable donations. When the groups came back at the end of their day out, the researchers wrote in the weekly journal Science, the individuals who bought themselves clothes or electronic gadgets had experienced a moment of pleasure but gained no lasting satisfaction. Those in the other group, however, having used their money to make others happy, came back beaming with pleasure.”

The great Russian author Leo Tolstoy wrote a delightful short story titled;

“How Much Land Does a Man Need,” that captures beautifully what I am trying to say in my writing.  I encourage you to read it when you can.  Tolstoy ends with these words;

“Six feet from his head to his heels was all he needed.”

Apparently enough, is just enough!  just Janis, Jesus and Tolstoy!

 

 

In an interview, John Lennon was asked why he wrote the iconic song, “Imagine,” and this is what he answered:

“It is the concept of positive prayer.  If you can imagine a world at peace, with no denominations of religion—not without religion but without this my-God-is-bigger-than-your-God thing—then it can be true.  The World Church called me once and asked, ‘Can we use the lyrics to ‘Imagine’ and just change it to ‘Imagine one religion’?  That showed [me] they didn’t understand it at all.  It would defeat the whole purpose of the song, the whole idea.”

I, like most of you, have heard this song many times, but on one of my daily walks that  song suddenly began playing in my mind in an entirely new way.  I am astonished at how it parallels so perfectly the very heart and substance of the message of Jesus.

Not Christianity, which over time has been corrupted by politics and human manipulation, but the Gospel, the Good News that Jesus brings to a fearful and suffering world.

Jesus spoke to the people in a language that was familiar to them, and the only people who got upset, actually outraged, were the religious establishment. Most especially because he said that God’s love is unconditional and for everyone! No exceptions.

John Lennon begins:    

Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today…

 

I have been able to not only imagine, but through years of study and reflection have come to the realization that heaven and hell are not actual places where people go after they die.  The word heaven appears in the Bible 807 times.

The opening line of the Bible is Genesis 1:1:
“In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep.”

Most of the 659 references to heaven in the Old Testament refer to the sky, the atmosphere that which is above us where birds fly, clouds are seen and the stars sparkle at night. As far as I could find, there were no references to heaven as the place with pearly gates, and streets paved with gold.

However, over the passage of time, stories about what we would call heaven have appeared in the Talmud. The Talmud is a huge collection of doctrines and laws compiled and written before the 8th Century, A.D., by ancient Jewish teachers.

One interesting Talmudic story almost certainly refers to a heavenly afterlife, tells of Rabbi Joseph, the son of Rabbi Joshua ben Levi, who dies and returns back to life. “His father asks him, ‘What did you see?’ He replies, ‘I beheld a world the reverse of this one; those who are on top here are below there, and vice versa.’ Joshua ben Levi said to him, ‘My son, you have seen a corrected world.'”

Sound familiar? It should, because Jesus said exactly that when he said the last shall be first, the rich will be poor and those who suffer now will be filled with joy.  His sermon on the mount was also about a perfect, just and  humane world.  That is heaven!

Jesus says that this heavenly kingdom is like a mustard seed, the most common plant that grew everywhere, so look for God in the commonplace. It is like yeast that causes dough to rise. It is like a treasure found in a field.  It is humble like a child. The list goes on and on with the same theme, that heaven is not a place where you go – but something you experience in daily life.

As far as hell is concerned, the Jews had no concept of it at all; instead they spoke of Sheol which was a shadow world where people go when they die, not a hot place of torment and devils. The New Testament Greek word for “hell,” Gehenna is indeed a place. But it was the garbage pit in Jerusalem, not the hot place where bad people go.

Imagine there’s no countries    
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace…

Even a very light reading of world history will reveal that virtually every war in history was about religion and/or property, and most often both! If humanity could learn to do what Jesus taught about relationships in (Matthew 7:12;)

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.”  I believe that it is not only possible but admirable to imagine a world without war and needless death.

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one

We know from the Bible that even the warlike people that were the ancient Israelis imagined long, long ago that peace among the nations was something to strive for.

In the Old Testament books of Isaiah, Joel and Micah the same words echo across the ages:

“He will judge between many peoples and will settle disputes for strong nations far and wide. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore” (Micah 4:3)

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world…

No more Greed and hunger…two of the biggest scourges that cause so much suffering in our nation, a nation that for so many others is a nation of unprecedented abundance.
People have suggested that this sounds an awful lot like Communism, and that was one of the very negative reactions to the song, and this is what John Lennon said to that charge:

“It might be like Communism, but I don’t know what real Communism is.  There is no real Communist state in the world; you must realize that.”

I most certainly agree with him because I have a pretty intimate knowledge of what life was like under the so-called Communist rule in my native Latvia.  That was a totalitarian system where approximately 6% of the population lived in unprecedented luxury and privilege and the remaining 94% kept by force at a level at or just slightly above the poverty level.

What we call Communism is in no way even similar to what John is singing about.
Actually, and perhaps without knowing it, John was quoting Holy Scripture as he wrote the song as found in the Book of Acts 2:44-47:

“All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.” (saved not by words, and expressions of religious doctrine, but by acts of charity and kindness)

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will live as one

Another dreamer long ago, a dreamer by the name of Jesus said a prayer that is virtually a mirror image of the words in the verse that is repeated twice, as Jesus repeats it twice in the Gospel of John:  (John 17:11;22)

“And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one,”

I believe that Jesus was telling us that heaven is possible now, if we but want it to be.

Just Jesus, John Lennon and me!

 

 

 

 

 

I cannot think of another time in history except perhaps the 60’s with the Civil Rights battle and Vietnam, where the world of my life’s work, theology and religion, so closely overlapped the political scene. We pastors are regularly warned by our parishioners to stay away from politics and to preach the Gospel instead. In our country today, we have descended into a quagmire of lies, deceit, anger and possible treason by people in the highest offices of governance and trust.

We have a president who acts as if rules, laws, decorum and common decency apply to everyone but himself. In just one sentence he often contradicts himself. And when recently asked in a reasonable way about a cabinet position that has not been filled he responds with: “I’m the only one that matters!” Currently his former campaign manager and an associate are under house arrest for possible charges of treason against the United States of America. Other cabinet members and family members are also suspect of the same.

The president demands that immigration laws be changed and a wall be built on the border of  Mexico, an ally nation, but when a United States citizen and veteran of the United States Air Force uses a military assault rifle to murder 26 people, many of them children, in a church, the response, unbelievably is: “It’s too early to talk about legislation.” This is sheer madness.

I can’t help but think of these sage words of one of America’s Founding Fathers, Thomas Paine: “These are the times that try men’s souls!” As a firm believer in separation of church and state I nonetheless also believe that there are moral, ethical, legal and just basic human issues that transcend both politics and religion.

Thomas Paine echoes my sentiments beautifully. “I believe in the equality of man; and I believe that religious duties consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavoring to make our fellow-creatures happy.” Ironically, I think, his words reflect exactly what both Old and New Testaments demand of those who claim to believe in God; “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” (Amos 5:24)

Thomas Paine was born in England and became an American political activist, philosopher, political theorist, and revolutionary. He authored the two most influential pamphlets at the start of the American Revolution, and he inspired the rebels in 1776 to declare independence from Britain. In the post-truth days in which we are living, with unprecedented corruption and confusion in the highest offices of our land it may serve us well to re-visit the principles that this nation was founded upon.

Just a few examples of the wisdom of Thomas Paine: “Every religion is good that teaches man to be good; and I know of none that instructs him to be bad.” “He that would make his own liberty secure must guard even his enemy from oppression; for if he violates this duty he establishes a precedent that will reach to himself.” “When men yield up the privilege of thinking, the last shadow of liberty quits the horizon.”

Pain’s greatest contribution was undoubtedly the little pamphlet that packed a huge punch, published anonymously on January 10, 1776 at the beginning of the American Revolution titled simply, “Common sense written in clear and persuasive prose,” Paine used moral and political arguments to encourage common people in the Colonies to fight for independence from Great Britain.

It became an immediate sensation. For those who think that America was founded as a Christian Nation, it is a matter of record that upon returning to the United States from France at the invitation of Thomas Jefferson, Paine discovered that his contributions to the American Revolution had been all but eradicated due to his religious views. Yes, history holds many strange ironies indeed. And as we can see from the Book of the Prophet Amos some things never change. Things like the human struggle for justice, equality and freedom for all human beings. The poor, the lame, the blind and the widow.

Amos drives this same message home using a reference to what is called “The Day of the Lord.” The Day of the Lord in the Old Testament is characterized by a pouring out of divine wrath on God’s enemies. It contains Imagery of natural disasters, crushing military conquest, and terrible supernatural events. The Prophet Amos reverses the curses and blessings, warning the people of Israel to be careful what they wish for.

They long for the Day of the Lord thinking that they will receive the Divine blessings, but Amos says no! They will receive God’s wrath instead. Why? “I hate, I despise your festivals, and take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them.” God wants nothing to do with their religious expressions and worship. “Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps. ”

Mass shootings, something that was unimaginable just a few years ago are now becoming commonplace, and the  response is predictable, because it never changes. Candles are lit. People embrace each other, they huddle and cry. They hold prayer vigils and light candles and sing hymns, and set up memorials to honor the victims. They say: “We condemn this senseless violence. Our hearts and prayers go out to the victims and their families. Our thanks to law enforcement and first responders.”

Wouldn’t we honor them more by trying to do something about this epidemic of senseless violence? Faith in God does not mean that we pray away injustice and violence, it does not mean we remain silent while ever more innocent people, most especially young children, the most defenseless among us, are cut down by deranged, angry people with military weapons that have absolutely no place in a civil society. I absolutely reject the idea that nothing can be done about this. If having more guns, as we often hear, makes us safe, then America should be the safest country on earth.

For example, when I was in Vietnam there were so many instances of violence among our own American soldiers that our weapons were eventually locked up at night and only issued to us when there was imminent danger of attack. That was in a war zone, and it stopped the killing.

just Janis.

 

I am mowing the lawn.  I glance ahead and see a mouse lying in the grass.  Still.  The mouse has died, so I dig a hole among the garden flowers and bury the little creature.  I wonder what happened since there are no visible signs of trauma on the tiny furry body.  When I finish mowing I take a walk.

It is obvious that something is terribly wrong.  She is struggling to breathe, her tiny beak opening and closing as she gasps for breath.  She is in the middle of the sidewalk, her tiny body covered with grey feathers and her tail a brilliant yellow.  There is a hint of down on her belly and I wonder if she is too young to be out of the nest.  Looking closer I realize her wings are fully formed, she may be young but I believe that something else is wrong.

I pick her up in my hand and she does not resist.  I cannot leave her here in the sun without protection so I take her home.  We try to give her water and she shudders.  We place her in a mailing box with a bottle cap of water.  Periodically her body shakes then she goes back to panting.  There is clearly something very wrong with her.  Did she fly into a window?  Did she fall from the nest onto the hard concrete?  There are no signs of blood or damage to her body so we rule out blaming the cat.

We sit in vigil with her on our patio hoping that she will recover.  After an hour or so she moves around a bit, then falls sidewise, wings flapping, with one more desperate try at life.  Suddenly she lies still as we watch the life leave her tiny body.  It’s just a bird you say?  No, it is a fellow creature with whom we shared the most intimate moment we all carry within us.  Our death.

Although we are sad that this little bird did not live beyond whatever had happened to it, we are grateful that we could at least be present at her leaving.  There is something sacred about the moment when the breath of life leaves a living creature.  All living things share this one thing in common, to hold onto life as long as possible, and just as they are born, all living things will die.

Philosophers, theologians, dreamers and other kinds of artists have wrestled with the questions surrounding life and death.  The ancient religions teach what Lebanese-American poet Kahlil Gibran wrote in his wonderful book The Prophet, that “life and death are one, just as the river and the sea are one.”

“For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?”

I wonder where our collective discomfort and fear of death come from?  Perhaps the random acts of violence and accidents that happen to so many every day drive us to ask, why? in a desperate attempt to make sense of it all.  Why did this happen?  Why did it happen to her and not someone else?  What is the meaning of all of this?  What happens after we die?

At the very least one knows that without having experienced light the concept of darkness makes no sense.  If one has not touched hot water and knows only cold, the word “hot” remains an unreachable concept.

I am here reminded of the principle of Yin and Yang.  All things exist as inseparable and contradictory opposites. Light and dark.  Hot and cold. Night and Day. Pain and Pleasure. Joy and Sorrow.  Female and Male. Old and Young. I understand that this Yin Yang principle dates from the 3rd. century BC or earlier.  It is a fundamental concept in Chinese philosophy and culture.

The two opposites of Yin and Yang attract and complement each other, and at their core, each has an element of the other.  Neither is superior to the other, they are in perfect balance. This is what some religions call Heaven, some Nirvana, and still others Awakening!  I prefer awakening.

The black field has a white dot, and the white field a black dot, reminding us that no matter how lovely and good our life is there is, there will be times of darkness; and no matter how desperate and dark the situation, it is never totally without hope!  The result is unity, and I believe encompasses the reality of life in all its forms.

It is we, with our ego-driven primitive drive to survive at the cost of any and all others, that causes the breakdown of a system that I believe is God, and transcends all the teachings of man and religion.  Her name is nature, and she is wisdom.  Just Janis and…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a love story, and like all love stories, it has a beginning.  It most likely began in 1950, round about the time when the poor little immigrant boy found himself sitting on the running board of a late 1930’s sedan.  It might have been a Dodge.

In the years that followed that first love, many cars have come and gone from my life.  First the toys, of course, a collection of matchbox cars, trucks and hot rods.  And at age 16 my first real car, a 1950 Oldsmobile Rocket 88.  The first official American Muscle Car!

Before we were old enough to drive my brother and I would play a game when riding in the car with my parents. Each of us faces hanging out of the back window would try to guess the make, model and year of the cars coming toward us.

The first to shout it out wins!  It was easier than you think, because, first, most cars on the road at that time were made in the United States and the brands were distinctly different from one another.  Also, every new model of the year for all the cars was radically different.  So much so that we would wait with anticipation to see what the new model year would look like.

Those were exciting days alright.

Many of us believe that the 50’s and 60’s were the Golden Years for American Iron that built the great city of Detroit.  The Motor city as it was known.  No doubt the automobile was also a major factor in creating the Middle Class in America which is still, though all but disappearing, the one great hope of a society of honest work, equality and equal opportunity.

Sadly, the gap between the richest among us and the rest of us is growing too rapidly to sustain what once was America.  There is no doubt that our love of guns and violence, as well as systemic racism and poverty, are results of this inequality.  And here is where the unlikely hero of the American Middle-Class story enters my love story.  The Beetle.

The Beetle was “conceived” in 1934 with the first one “delivered” in Germany in 1938.  Then the war and all production stopped.  The Europeans got their first Beetles in 1947 as the land of my birth bounced back from the devastation of WWII.  But the first Beetle came to the United States a year before I arrived here. 1949.  Delivered to Ben Pon Sr., a Dutch businessman, and the world’s first official Volkswagen Importer.

Actually, not one, but two Beetles arrived and were sold in 1949.  From that humble beginning, the Beetles took off like a rocket selling so fast that in 1955 a U.S. sales arm was established in Englewood Cliffs, N.J.

By the 60’s Beetles were selling by the hundreds of thousands and were for thousands of Americans the car they first learned to drive. Basic, affordable, durable and fun, the Beetles just kept coming.  College kids, people on a budget, just about anyone could afford a Beetle.  By 1970 VW hit its peak with sales topping 570,000 Beetles sold!

I was happily one of those owners when I bought my first Beetle.  It was a 1962 light green bug.  It was used, but with very low mileage, like new.  It had been traded in for a sport’s car by Dr. Andrews of Kalamazoo, Michigan. I fell in love instantly.  Eventually, I became somewhat of a VW mechanic, no expert of course, but learned my way around the air-cooled engine phenomenon.

And now, 55 years later I’m in love again!  As I drive around Cedarburg virtually everyone who sees my Beetle wants to tell me how their father, mother, uncle or aunt also had a Beetle.  They were, like their namesakes “everywhere.”

On February 29, 2017, my Beetle arrives in Cedarburg from Silver Creek Classics in Maple Grove, Minnesota.  If you like cars, especially classics, check out their website.  The owner, Bob Gruys is really nice, knowledgeable and honest!  We had the best experience there!  Just Google Silver Creek Classics and take a look.  Looks like there are three Beetles available at Silver Creek right now!

Just Janis, Beetled again.