Breaking Grande Silence

 My time in the convent was brief, one weekend to be exact.  It was an experience of the intersection of two key things in my life:  1) my love for evangelizing teens at any opportunity; and 2) my dispositional tendency to follow rules ... until I can't.  It reminds me of that wistfully sad, yet important saying of the German monk Martin Luther:  "I cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against my conscience is neither right nor safe.  Here I stand, I can do no other, so help me God.  Amen."

At the outset it would be important to remark that going to spend a weekend at a convent was not my idea.    I was in tenth grade.  I had the usual tendencies of tenth grade girls to love horses, read books, want to live by the ocean, and begin grand ideas with the phrase:  "Some day when I get married..."  I also happen to like God.  I don't just like Him as an idea, or an abstract concept.  I don't just Facebook "like" Him.  I don't like Him because when I sing the old song "Let there be peace on earth" I get misty-eyed of what that might be like.  I don't like Him because one of my parents was markedly "religious" and the other was not.  I like Him because somehow I felt like He had an interest in, well, me.  (I think He has an interest in you too, so don't feel left out.)  In one of his recent books, Author Matthew Kelly presents God as being the One Who can help us "become the very best version of ourselves."  I am sold on that concept that the One Who made us has a design for each of our lives.  The prophet Jeremiah said it best:

"For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for your woe, plans to give you a future full of hope."  (Jeremiah 29:11)

What I did not like was the idea of going to a convent ... for ANY amount of time.  In my young brain, it had the hint of "clipping of the wings" and that held zero attraction to me. In no way, shape or form did I want to give my parents the idea that this would be an amenable life choice to me.  Yet every time we walked by the "Come and See Weekend" poster at church, my mother would continue to point it out to me.  She really pressed the issue so consistently that I went just to put a period at the end of the one word sentence:  "No."  Yes that contradicts logic.  And that is when the trouble began.  I will tell you the good, the bad, and the ugly, without telling you which order of sisters because that is kind of irrelevant to the point.

The weekend was held at the Mother House.  That is a very nice way of saying:  where you go through formation to ensure you and the Order are a good fit; and, also more to the point, where the elderly nuns go to die.  For my way of thinking, for me, they were one and the same experience.  At one point in the weekend, the Sister in charge of the young women "coming to see" took us to visit an elderly nun who was bed-ridden.  She sat up and smiled, took our hands and beamed.  She said, "I have had a beautiful life.  When are you girls coming to join us?"  I felt glad for her, but the last part caused the color to wash out of my face.  The directing Sister replied, "Oh, they are still in school; they can't come just yet," and we flowed out of the tiny room into the hallway that seemed to echo in its marbled floors my own footsteps that wanted to bolt right out the front door immediately.

The other interesting thing is that the other young women there were easily two or three years younger than me.  And frankly, they weren't doing a terrific job of discerning a future vocation.  They were quite obviously there for what felt like a reunion of girls from Massachusetts and Connecticut with the cache of girls from New Jersey.  It had the makings and feel of one giant Junior High Girls Slumber Party... albeit at a convent.  Although, there was one young woman among us who was actually college age and had just converted to Catholicism. She was planning to join the Order of sisters in a few months.  I would have liked to pick her brain a bit but she didn't seem to have time to speak with us, having bigger more spiritual fish to fry, I imagine.  

I got in trouble at lunch quite accidentally.  When I think back on it, I probably saw something that was much more interesting to me than what I had encountered so far.  Among the gathering of nuns in the lunchroom, everyone sitting around in their dark colored, knee length habits with matching veils on, there was one sister wearing all-white.  She was considerably younger, like in her 30's, and her round and warm Mexican face RADIATED joy.  I mean, when you see THAT you see something that could make you actually consider HER religious order:  doesn't every one of us want to be THAT happy?  So I just said what was on my mind to our Directress, "Who is that nun?"  Answer:  "She is traveling through and stayed the night with us."  My remark, "she is so beautiful."  The iced-cold stare I got back from the Directress led me to believe we were not on the same page when I was remarking about what was clearly a spiritually-generated beauty, a beauty that came from living in the center of God's love.  But I was inescapably in the dog house.  Bigger faux pas lay ahead for me.

It was in the convent that I learned how to play the card game "UNO."  And in case you are wondering what else happens in the convent on a Saturday night, I will break no code in telling you:  Some girls watched TV.  Back in the late 1970's ... they were watching Ricardo Montalban and his butler Tattoo welcome the rich, famous and desperate-for-love on the Fantasy Island that doesn't really exist go for a shot at their "one wish."  I could watch that at home, I think.  It seemed very, um, un-holy to be on a discernment retreat and not be discerning.  So, I busied myself about checking out the bookshelves.  I found a book called "Under the Fig Tree."  It was something that really resonated with me for some reason.  The title of the book came from Nathaniel encountering Jesus for the first time who greeted him with these words:  "I saw you under the fig tree.  You are a true son of Israel - there is no guile in you."  Every time I hear that Bible passage read in church I wonder what was happening under the fig tree that was worthy of note?  Was Nathaniel praying, crying, saying goodbye to someone, or doing absolutely nothing at all?  There was something about Jesus' remark about "seeing" him, that made me think it was a comprehensive-seeing, an "I get where you are coming from" sort of thing.  And to say that he had no guile in him was no compliment to the first man Israel, whose initial name was Jacob and was a deceiver.  (Hence the name of Robin Williams' movie years later:  Jakob the Liar.)  The comment by Jesus was honoring Nathaniel for his honesty and at the same time kind of saying, "you are unique in your family because you are honest" implying others are not.  Hmmm... 

So then we get to the part where a Directress tries to get junior high girls to call it a night.  Having done lock-in's with teens years later, I want to say to her credit at least she didn't really lose her temper with them.  We stayed in a large dorm-like room with a row of beds on each of the two sides of the room, and if I remember correctly, there may have been curtains that could pull around them like in the hospital Emergency Rooms on tv shows.  Somehow amidst the silly girl talk etc., I found an opportunity to get to talk to them about the Big Things God was doing in the Church in the last ten years (which was most of their lifetimes).  I talked about the Blessed Mother's apparitions.  I talked about the birth of the Catholic Charismatic renewal in the late 60's and what was happening in churches as far as healings and miracles occurring.  It was a prime time for evangelization - they were listening, I had the good news, I was regaling them on behalf of the Big G ...  and then I got in trouble.  The whole thing got shut down under the guise of the international convent rule of "Grande Silence."  

That's when a sister with the demeanor of a tired policeman comes to the edge of the dorm room and snaps, "Silence!  Please!"  I said, "But sister, don't you want to hear about this, how the Lord is working in people's lives ... healing them and ..."  "Girls.  Lights-out."  I guess she didn't want to hear it.  

I will say this after later having decades of experience with teen ministry:  Youth Ministry is not for those who have to keep strict rules or need their sleep.  At this point in my life, I'm not sure I could do it either.  But I will say this:  when the time is right and you have the proverbial floor and they are on-board with you, you've gotta let the Spirit lead and go with it.  It is the Inconvenient Moment in which the Lord chooses to change lives.  It is the moment after He sees you under the fig tree and there's nothing left but conversation and raw honesty and a heart turning to Him.  Nothing should ever stand in the way of that.  Not even Grande Silence.

My parents picked me up the next day from the Motherhouse.  My father shook the Sister Directress' hand and I could see him passing money to her.  Nice.  But I would have used an envelope.  LOL.  As we drove home I could see tears in his eyes.  I told him not to worry that I didn't plan to go back.  There was no further discussion.

My mother and I did have a discussion about five  years later that ended with me reiterating that convent life was not for me.  When I look at all the places my life and education and ministry have taken me, I understand better why it wasn't:

"You can only say 'No' when you have a bigger 'Yes' burning inside you."

But sometimes I have indeed wondered about the order that the Mexican nun belonged to and if I could ever find it... 

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The Bump that Was

 11.18.2021

 So, like a good patient, I applied the hot pack as directed.  Gee, how I wish I had been given some specifics on what to expect.  I put it under my arm for two nights in a row and continued my typical routine of watching evening tv shows with the dogs.  It wasn’t an unpleasant task.  Then things changed. 

The bump kind of did a turtle maneuver and withdrew back into the tissue.  But it felt hot.  And it was angry red in the shape of a quarter.  I was temporarily worried.  Well, honestly for about 2 days.  Then like so many people who think the Old Ways may offer some relief, I took matters into my own hands.  If things weren’t going to come to a head, I could facilitate the process. 

You know those pads you can buy at the state fair or places like that that are supposed to detox the bottom of your feet?  Well, why wouldn’t that work on, well, elsewhere????  So, the third night I put that patch right over the red, hot angry area.  And you know what happened?  Absolutely nothing.  That was kind of good because I was worried if it backfired and something dramatic happened, I did not want to be on the receiving-end of The Look that medical providers give you when you are doing something dorky and non-medical.

The next morning, I was washing my face with this gentle, green clay cleanser.  And I thought to myself:  if this is supposed to draw out impurities from my face, then, “why wouldn’t that work on, well, elsewhere???” (see the repetitive train of logic.)  I thought that did nothing until the next day.  Then, something happened that necessitated paper towels and antibiotic bandaids.  That’s really all you need to know.  It is less red now.  The story is not over.  The little turtle is still lurking.  To add insult to injury, we are going to do a mammogram tomorrow (think slamming garage door on your chest analogy, as previously mentioned).

I am not scared.  I fully expect them to pat me on the hand and tell me it was just a cyst and it will resolve “over time” …. Kind of like when as kid I fell and bruised my knee and my father – bastion of sympathy that he is – said, “Stop crying.  It will heal up by the time you get married.”  Little did I know that I could have my whole body replaced piece by piece if I needed to … “before I got married.”  But one thing I already know about that procedure tomorrow:  it’s going to hurt – it doesn’t usually – and I am going to cry.  I am going to cry so that I don’t use any bad words.  Then I will walk out of that office, thank the Good Lord that this is no big deal and cry some more…. Because it’s going to hurt.  And I’m STILL not even engaged.

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"Is the Pope Catholic?"

 

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

It used to be the tag-line joke to whenever anyone said anything that was painfully obvious:  “is the Pope Catholic?”  Last month I asked this question in my brain again, but in a very non-rhetorical way.  It came on the heels of first Nancy Pelosi meeting with Pope Francis, and then President Joe Biden.  So, I thought maybe for the purpose of telling you a few things you might not already be aware of about, well, Things Catholic, that could shed a different light on these untenable meetings.

First let me say this:  being a Catholic is not the same thing as belonging to a club like:  Rotary (a very nice service organization), or the Ladies Auxiliary to the American Veterans (they are supportive of service members), or the Elks or the Moose or the like.  No, Catholicism is a philosophy of life that is deeply rooted in both the Jewish and Christian wisdom traditions.  A wise professor once told us, “Lex orandi, Lex credendi,” the law of prayer is the law of creed/belief.  That means that if you want to understand what a person believes, look at what their prayers are composed of.  (At this point I restrain myself from going three other directions about the content of prayers and other groups for the interest of the particular topic at hand…. A story for another day.)

If you want to understand someone who is truly Catholic, you look at the content of the Nicean Creed which they pray at Mass.  It says everything they believe about God, the Church, and the final things of life.  It really is quite a nice neat little package too, if I do say so myself.  If you want to understand how a Catholic should live, you would look at 2 sources:  the Ten Commandments (3 about relating to God, 7 about relating to your neighbor) and the Beatitudes (the attitudes you should have in daily life: emphasis on humility).  Theoretically, you should be able to look at any Catholic and see those things lived out.  Theoretically.

So, really, we can just take one item:  the abortion discussion, and disqualify a lot of people from the embrace of Catholicism on just that point … if they are aware that they are standing in direct opposition to the Church’s teaching which extends:  “Thou shalt not Kill” to the unborn.  The Didache, which is a document from the earliest years of Christianity also underscores the heinous nature of abortion.  And you have, for instance, a President who claims to be “A Catholic in good standing” who has shown himself to be the most pro-abortion president in the history of the USA in his endorsement of Planned Parenthood the Abortion Machine. 

Catholic people, indeed practicing Christians of all denominations that revere the Bible as the Word of God to us, also believe that obeying lawful authority creates peace and good order.  One could easily extrapolate that those who are creating chaos at the southern border by dissolving any orderly process by which we welcome people into American society, are going against the spirit of that Biblical mandate.  To dissolve law and order creates anarchy – and God is a God of order. 

I cannot just SAY I am a Catholic and expect you to take me seriously if what I SAY out of the other side of my mouth flies completely in the face of Catholic moral teaching and Biblical standards.  That makes me one of two things … or if we were analyzing the President of the United States … or anyone else …. You still really are left with only one of two things:  a truth, or a non-truth.  I deliberately didn’t say “Lie” because I believe that in the case of the current occupant of the Oval Office, he is not fully capable of lying (or purposefully telling the truth, either) at this point in his mental decline.  I do have a modicum of compassion for him.  It has to be a terrible experience to have moments of lucidity where you realize you just have no idea at all what you are saying… or who you are … that your clarity only reveals how unclear you’ve been for who knows how long.  That’s got to be very disorienting.

Look, it would be very easy for me to itemize people I personally think are Bad Examples of attempts at Catholicism (dare I say JFK?  I think about Marilyn Monroe and Jackie. About all that complication due to his infidelity).  It is incredible to be given the highest challenge in the known world:  to lead America and be the Major Player on the world stage for peace and Justice, only to screw up royally in your private life.  At the end of the day, you can sit at the banquet table with kings and dignitaries but if your own kids had no good example to look up to, then what is it all worth?

It would be easier -because it overlaps my field of study – to tell you about the great heroes of Catholicism, names that you would know, stories that would inspire you and lift you up (John Paul the Great, Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Dorothy Day, Francis of Assisi, and the like).  These are the great humanitarians of our age.  But this is not about that.  It is just for the sake of contrast.  Joe Biden had an opportunity and he has bungled it…. Over and over again …. And it’s not that we should add more pressure to an already stress-filled job.  It’s that you can’t be falling apart at the seams and be allowed to lead when in fact you are making huge deal-breaker mistakes.    But then you have, let’s call it, The Papal Incident.

The first clip I watched showed him presenting a warrior’s coin to the Holy Father.  And then, painfully, through a translator, explaining what it is and gifting it to the Holy Father on behalf of his deceased son, Beau Biden.  Truly, this was a touching gesture from a father’s heart that still carries the grief of loss embedded in its depths.  But watching him explain to the Holy Father what it is, was downright painful.  The Holy Father had to play a pleasant, but poker-face, because he didn’t KNOW what is being put in his hand and for what reason.  It’s like that incident in school when I laughed when I thought a person was fake-crying while reading a poem.  When I realized his movement was sincere emotion, it was ME who was embarrassed.  So, Joe put the Pope in an awkward spot.  But we can live with that one.

It’s then the other meeting – allegedly just the two of them – that he comes forth from the room claiming that the Pope has called him a “Catholic in good standing, and to still receive holy communion.”  Itemization to follow of what is wrong with this:

•  Why were two major world leaders in the room alone with no translators?

• Did you think Joe went to confession?  If so, the purpose of confessing is to speak to someone who understands and can give you wise counsel.  El Sancta Padre no habla ingles.  It’s that simple.  So, if you want some truly wise advice, go to someone who can dialogue with you, not just nod their head, otherwise your attempt makes a mockery out of the spirit of repentance and renewal.
• Does Mr. Biden’s understanding of “Catholic in good standing” encompass everything I said earlier about the Ten Commandments, the Beatitudes, and the earliest moral teachings of Christianity found in the Bible and the Didache?  Me thinks it does not.  Because if it did, either he is oblivious of the impact of his decision making, voting, legislating and pontificating, OR he is a liar.
• Did the Pope really say that Mr. Biden is a “good Catholic”?  Or was the Pope a victim of a political maneuver on the chessboard of the world stage?
• If the Pope really said that …. Does the POPE know what Mr. Biden has been up to? 
• And if so, is the Pope lucid?  Or is he a collaborating foreign power that hails from a socialist country in South America, helping to turn the tide of American life into more chaos?  Is capitalism so intrinsically evil to his sensibilities, that he would see us fall apart altogether into national poverty, bloodshed, and social upheaval, rather than remain a democracy?  (*Important side note: I go to work.  A portion of my paycheck, without my consent, is extracted to pay for the needs of the poor and indigent who do not or perhaps cannot work.  Then when my portion hits the bank, I have to sort through not just bills, but appeals from charities all across this nation and other countries to decide who I can purposefully share my resources with.  I am not the only person who does this.  If we, as a nation, get jettisoned into the poor house, the gravy train stops abruptly. What good does THAT accomplish on the world stage?)
• Does the Pope think that a refusal to hold Catholic politicians accountable to their declared faith is an act of non-judgmentalism?  If so, let me clarify:  there is a difference between right and wrong.  Both parents and teachers understand that children and the unknowing need to be educated on that.  It is an act of hatred to refuse to teach someone something that will save them from self-harm or creating misery for others.  Refusal to weigh-in on the moral responsibility held by public officers is, in and of itself, a grave moral evil … perhaps moreso for you if you are, well, say, …. The Pope.

We can excuse people from teaching others and holding others responsible for erroneous behaviors and moral judgments only if that person is also ignorant in some way of what is really going on.  Namely, if the Pope doesn’t have the clear picture on American politics by now, then perhaps his turn on the world stage is …. Over. 

This leaves us with not just one question:  Is the President a Catholic in good standing?  But also: Is the Pope a Catholic in good standing?

There will no doubt be those I love who think I have stepped too far on this line of reasoning.  But I implore you to consider that if reasoning and moral values are no longer practiced by the laity, who will guide the leadership back to where it needs to be?  It is not the cart that goes home at the end of the night; the horse himself always knows the way back to the barn.

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My Personal Bump-in-the-Road

 

November 10, 2021.

An hour from now my whole world could change.  The writer’s axiom is:  we write best when we write what we know.  For now, that is all I know:  my relatively calm little world could be completely flipped upside down…. Because last week I found a bump.  It was small, and it could be nothing, but I promised myself to watch it for a week and if that didn’t go away or do whatever they do to self-resolve, then I would “get it checked out.”  It was in the back of my mind.  The very far back of my mind.

Then, three days ago in the course of a phone call with my friend, I heard her say the words:  “I lost my 51-year-old friend to breast cancer.  She thought it was just a pimple.  She had a husband and three children…”  That JOLTED ME. The conversation continued onward, but a part of my brain was stuck in the mud like rear-wheel drive tires spinning and shooting dirt everywhere. 

I called my first choice for physicians who deal with this and happily spoke with my friend Brunetta.  She told me what to do next:  reach out to my PCP or my GYN because they have to set the wheels in motion after they see me FIRST.  I was grateful it was her on the other end of the phone, a friendly voice, a caring person I knew.  Frankly, I don’t want to be a patient at the hospital:  I just want to work here.  But it’s good to know that if I do need excellent care, I know exactly where to go.

So now I’m sitting at my desk, watching the clock, waiting for my appointment time.  Why?  It’s just a tiny little bump.  Here’s why:  because to that other lady who left behind a family, it was just a tiny little bump as well … until it wasn’t.  I don’t have the expertise or knowledge base to look at the thing and say, “it’s not a big deal.”  I want someone else to take responsibility for that so I can go on with my life without a nagging thought in the back of my mind. 

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The Next Day (November 11, 2021)

Is this the first day of the rest of my life?  The doctor was serious, but unconcerned with her initial visual of the finding.  That’s good.  To be safe, she wants me to get the mammogram re-done on that side.  That’s a bummer.  There is an old joke about how to prepare for a mammogram:  Lie down on your garage floor and strategically position yourself, and then have your good friend bring the garage door down on you.  That about sums it up. 

We had a little confusion at the office visit yesterday just before I went pale and almost passed out.  What I heard my physician say was:  “if you come back for your re-check in December and it’s still there, I will rip it out.”  (Let’s blame this misunderstanding on us wearing the stupid blue anti-covid masks.)  When I responded:  “You most certainly will NOT rip it out…” She said, “I would never RIP it out, I would nip it out….”  I shook my head NO.  She ain’t doing THAT either.  Not on my watch.

(*If you are reading this, do NOT get worried about me or call me on the phone.  Just wait-it-out with me.  I will unfold it on the blog. I’m not picking out my casket yet, and I am not freaked-out.) 

Point of telling this true story:  “Reminder:  Get your annual mammogram.”

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Last Night (November 10, 2021)

Oh, yeah, and I was also supposed to “apply heat” to it.  So I heated up my bean bags in the microwave and tucked one under my arm and laid one on my abdomen to calm me down.  The three dogs jumped up on me as we settled in on the couch to watch “Chesapeake Shores.”   (I wanted to move there until I found out it was filmed in Canada.)  I am positive that Canada is colder than New York.   Not moving there, no siree.

I was not happy with the amount of heat I was applying to the “affected area” under my arm.  So I got up, scooped up some 3-flavor vanilla Turkey Hill ice cream (Vanilla bean, Bourbon vanilla, and French vanilla).  I put Heath bar pieces on it.  (“Heat” plus an “h”).  And then I poured Kahlua over the ice cream.  That way the heat would be internal as I ate the ice cream.  I’m so clever.

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Worn out Moccasins

Honestly, I hated Junior High.  I would not relive those two years of my life if you plopped a suitcase full of filthy, gold lucre down on my kitchen table.  Junior High, for me, can be summarized in the following concepts:  rule by the Popular; denigration of the Un-popular; and ongoing, painful Hysteria (Ie. every issue and situation is bigger than life) where the adults didn't seem to know how to help the kids through it by dialing-it-down and bringing in common sense.  Maybe that is why I LOVED teaching Junior High kids as an adult.  Somehow God took the hell I lived through and made my heart soft with compassion and my mind pretty keen with how to mitigate the angst of the kids before me.  If I didn't need to pay a mortgage, and didn't dislike (most) institutionally employed adults so much, I'd volunteer to teach Junior High for free.  But from this passion to set things on a gentler course, I offer my 2 cents on the current topics related to pandemic.  Let me begin with:

Extreme positions can only be held by those unwilling to step into their neighbor's proverbial moccasins for a moment.  This concept is true not just for the Right, but also for the Left.  As much as I know it is American democracy for each side to speak their piece in a debate, I abhor with a Capital ABHOR the shout-down theatrics that it has become.  That holds true for ALL of those jokers from Whoopi at the far-left to Sean at the far-right.  I once heard a brilliant neurologist bring a room full of noisy people down to a giant hush by dropping her voice below the level of what most dogs can hear.  It was amazing... because when you are bright and you are right, you already have the might.  (can we put that on a tee-shirt?)

Recently, a dear friend sent me an email and stated that Americans are self-centered when they put personal freedom and choice before the well being of others.  Most of the people to the Right would have begun yelling at that point.  I thought it better to consider her spot - she is a senior citizen and the whole covid journey has made her nervous.  Last year, when I spoke to her on the phone, I teasingly reminded her that she can call me any time ... because you can't catch COVID over the telephone.  

I don't think the Media has done us any justice or service by the way they have managed the information and dis-information of the past two years.  Because, remember:  Media exists to sell media.  No news means no jobs for them.  So for them, No News is NOT good news.  It is morally reprehensible how they stir the pot just to keep us on the edge of our seats.  But, our-bad, we should just shut the television off.  I advise everyone:  Take a media break at least once every 3 days.  You will find a few things to be true:  They are not hailing any real scientific progress overnight.  They flip-flop who is the good guy and who is the bad guy to serve the interest of ... hooking a broader cross-section of viewers/readers, and ... therefore, selling more news.  The integrity of the Journalistic profession has come under serious compromise as a result of this trend.  They have become very good at winding a story full of intrigue and emotion, but it is a side-note to whether or not you can count it as 100% true.

I am truly tired of it.  It's a lot like Lucy vanPelt holding the cartoon football for Charlie Brown and promising to not yank it away once he goes to kick it.  He, innocent soul, believes it.  He makes the run, she yanks it away again and then apologizes as if she couldn't help herself.  That is our Media in one glaring cartoon sequence:  they seem to be moving towards transparency and integrity and then they yank the football.  Shut them off.  Take a break.  Let go of what you cannot change or control outside of voting differently next time and writing letters to your congressmen.  (although I'm not sure, given the cast of characters in my state, if writing letters/emails is worth more than gas in the wind to them.)

So back to my friend's angst about those who refuse the vaccine.  I want to remind everyone of these things (which should be neither Left, nor Right, but common logic):

> the vaccine is not a silver-bullet.  It does not work 100% of the time, due to developing variants. There will be variants because that is what viruses do: they try to survive by changing.  

>being asked to wear a mask isn't the worst thing in the world... especially until we figure this thing out.  I might actually be okay with wearing a mask in enclosed, public places if you agree not to 'card' me for my vax status and invade my HIPPA rights.  And, yes, I am fine with taking a pop quiz on my symptoms weekly to get into church or work or wherever.

>the vaccines are NOT yet approved by the FDA ... they gave it a wary "okay to use due to pandemic conditions" which means, in plain English:  "We are not sure if this will do the trick," ... NOR (and I think this is super-important and very under-played) are they sure about any Long Term Effects .... (ie. blood clots that some of them have already caused in SOME people. I take an 81 mg aspirin every other night just to feel better about that risk). Note the legal disclaimer on the Pharma websites. Hmm...

>I emphasized the word "some" because the human bodies that receive these shots are themselves a varying habitat.  Which is where a Smarter or Wiser Governor or President would ADMIT and offer exemptions for specific outliers.  

Analogy #1.  I had a friend over for dinner this winter.  I pan-seared a very nice steak in olive oil because everyone in the Nutritional world like the FDA and even Weight Watchers says how fantastic olive oil is - like a nectar of gods, if you will, that helps your body.  So here I applied a scientific presumption to a specific situation ... and was unaware of my friend's allergy until he ran flying out my front door to rid himself of what would have landed him in an Emergency Room.  Horrifying.  

And yet, every time the Media badgers the hell out of the common population saying "Everyone" MUST get a vaccine, and demonizes those who don't, they forget the principal that, "Not all medicines are appropriate for all patients."  To wit, I find it very ironic that the same cache of folks who deny a person the right to decide with the advisement of their physician what to put or not put into their body, absolutely insist  that whether a woman carries a pregnancy full term has anything to do with the wider community - it's just between "her and her doctor" and "her body, her choice."  Hmm... so I only get rights over my body when it's okay with you?  Not consistent logic.

>And speaking of a person's body ... if you have already had the illness, science says that you have antibodies that will prevent you from re-infection or at least SEVERE illness, should it recur.  And they say in the next breath that while, admittedly, the vaccine is not 100% effective, it will help LESSEN symptoms, if you do get sick.  So, do the math with me, logically speaking:  either the anti-bodies or the vaccine can help prevent severe illness .... um, except of course, if you have underlying co-morbid conditions that make any illness you get a potential for a train-wreck.  Again, I bring you, dear reader, to the point that no 2 bodies are guaranteed to react the same way to the same illness ... or the same vaccine.  So if you have already BEEN sick, it should not be pressed upon you to put vaccine in you for more "just in case" potential.  Talk to your doctor ... 

>It is because of the circuitous logic of "antibodies not being as good as vaccine" business, that I am leery about The Booster.  Are we "boostering" more poisons into our systems needlessly, when we just are NOT sure about anything 100%?  I will tell you who is doing REALLY, REALLY well with all this vaccine business:  Big Pharma.

>Go easier on your Conspiracy Theorist neighbors.  I know I have had my fill of feeling the cloud of doom hanging over me due to mistrust of those in charge, and so the CT's annoy me because they ramp angst up to the next level.  If the powers-that-be hadn't handled this so badly maybe I'd have more confidence in them on the governmental level.  Maybe.  Has this become a matter of leaders not trusting US to act with the best interest "of the herd" in mind - or us not trusting them to act with the best interest of anyone BUT the news Media, Big Pharma, and the Political machine in mind?  Just sayin' it goes both ways.

>Re-education of the masses is to be held with a certain amount of suspicion.  I heard of a workplace recently that, in an attempt to preserve the quantity of workforce, offered to have a medical professional sit down with you and discuss the vaccine.  That means, "we want to pressure you to think like us, to take the recommended action, and we are going to hard-sell you face-to-face if you give us the chance."  Really?  This sounds like just another episode of, "Welcome to my parlor, said the Spider to the Fly."  Look if you are out there and have questions - you can talk to your doctor, your pharmacist, someone at your clinic and ask some questions.  But I am guessing if, at this point, you are holding back, you already know what your own reservations are based on:  allergies, immune compromise, etc.  But I also think if you are out there and don't have any questions and just take the shot, you are a sheep.  EVERYONE should always have questions before they alter their body chemistry with anything.  That's just good stewardship.  But if you have come this far, listening to Uncle Joe and Aunt Nancy and the Pope and everybody saying what they think is right for you, I'd say to get on the Big Pharma websites and do some of your own research.  Then look at who is being "silenced" from the Media and why.  You will see why this is a bigger, more complicated issue than:  "Just get the shot, it saves lives."

>Don't forget to be human.  There are friends, family members, neighbors who are all going to be coming from different positions for different reasons on this thing.  Do not buy into the technique of badgering them because you believe a certain way.  If your vaccine protects YOU, and your mask protects YOU, then you don't need to worry about THEM.  You may perceive their choice as "rolling the dice," but they may have their own personal reasons why they can't do it.  Leave them be in peace.  "Judge not, lest ye be judged," turns out to be sage advice.

This is a tough issue and it really requires all of us being more considerate and more patient with other people.  Do not let the "US" in "USA" be divided into US vs. Them (anyone who disagrees).  Do not become Junior Politicians and demonize anyone who disagrees with you.  Let us be friendly, and walk through this according to the dictates of our own conscience.  When you listen to another person, hear the heart of that person ~ have we pushed each other into such defensive corners that we cannot say to the other person, "I know you are concerned, and I appreciate that.  We need to agree to disagree on this."?  Come out from your own corner, I will come out from mine and let us respect both the person and the process by which we make our decisions.  Do you love me less because I do not think as you do?  I hope not, because I think that is what makes me so charming ...

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Somebody's Daughter

It was embarrassing, but understandable:  he was an old guy out to dinner with his family at a beach restaurant and his baser nature got the best of him.  I watched as he leaned his chair back on its rear two legs to watch her as she passed by, yet again.  The chair wobbled, and he awkwardly righted himself on 4-legs and no one seemed the wiser for his school boy like leering... except me.

The waitress was wearing a blouse and her skirt was made of white gauze.  If you are not a student of textiles let me explain:  I don't put up gauze curtains in my house because... you can see right through them.  Now you know.  She had on this skirt - and no "slip" - so consequently you saw ... buns in very skimpy panties.  It was not like he and I were the only two to notice.  Some of my senior citizen women companions raised eyebrows, others snickered like school girls in the gym.  It was one of the weirdest moments of my adult life.

Everyone's worst behavior seemed on display - hers, his, theirs - and I found something else struggling inside of me.  I know that if it was my family that we were going out to dinner with, we would have not sat down at the table.  Because, well, after all... anyways... 

What was happening in my head was I'm pretty sure the Holy Spirit because He says things other people don't say.  He asked me what I think she wants out of life, out of this moment.  He asked me to consider why.  "He started prepping me" for what He needed to accomplish.  I'm telling this story ten years after it happened because I am NOT bragging about how great I am, or self-righteous or any junk like that.  I am telling it because if He can't find anyone better, brighter, holier to accomplish His plan, then He is going to end up using knuckleheads like me.  And if He can use ME ... He can use YOU - if you want to be in some very odd situations.

I think God has this giant game of human chess that He is playing.  He is trying to move His pieces (us) closer to Him, and sometimes we just do dumb stuff that we need to re-think.  As the voice on my GPS says, in a frustrated computer tone: "re-calculating."  If you want to be that "instrument of peace" that St. Francis prayed to be, then you are going to help people with the "re-calculating."  It's not usually long term employment; it's kind of short term jobs on an as-available basis.  Sometimes lunch is involved.  Just sayin' that aint too bad.

First, I tried to steer the table-talk away from the waitress' morally-challenged dress code.  Then we ate lunch.  And we talked and laughed and planned the rest of our day.  The sun was amazing and the shops and shore were just steps away.  After we paid the bill I told my friends, "go along, I will be with you in a minute."  And they went out the door, as I shooed them along, and one of them kept looking back over her shoulder, apparently dying of curiosity. 

I approached the waitress.  I looked her in the face and kindly said, "I just want to tell you, you have beautiful eyes."  She bashfully dropped her face and thanked me as if she never had a compliment before in her whole life.  She didn't know what to do with it.  It was innocent and got the focus off the other issue. It was an invitation for her to self-appraise her beauty in another way: non-sexually. 

Here's the deeper psychology of why I said that.  I refer you up to the question:  "What do you think she wants?"  I think she wants attention, self-esteem from other people (who are probably bigger train wrecks), and of course, bigger tips (from lecherous customers).  And so she is willing to sell-off part of herself to pay the rent or whatever she's got going.  And this rotten world will let our girls do that ~ sell part of their souls to anyone bearing cash or attention.  She is someone's daughter, grand-daughter, sister.  She belongs to a family, I presume.  And if someone looked at my daughter like that old geezer in the chair did, I'd knock the legs right out from under his chair.  It was disgusting and pitiful... but given the way that people are "wired" it is understandable.  Understandable, but not excusable.  

Yet God did not call me to knock that chair over.  (How I wish I'd get THOSE kind of assignments - they fit my fiery spirit better!)  He called me to help a young woman re-imagine her own self-image and begin a path towards healing and accurate self-esteem.  Maybe we've all had moments where we sold ourselves short, and wish we had a do-over.  I hope that was it for her.  

I remember the biblical story of the woman "caught in adultery" who was dragged before the feet of Jesus by the Pharisees.  They were hoping to gin-up an old fashioned stoning.  The woman was probably a quivering, fearful, humiliated mess.  Intriguing that she was dragged to him alone because as far as I am aware, the act of adultery involves TWO people, not one.  He was seated and leaned over  and began tracing the sand with his finger.  He said to her accusers:  "Let the one who is without sin, cast the first stone."  It says that one by one, they dropped their stones and walked away.  What did he write?  the name of the man, was he one of their buddies?  or did He write the words:  "Somebody's daughter."  Did they think of their own daughters at home, and what if they made the same mistake?  Because of how he handled the situation That Day I think she realized she was Somebody's daughter, ... His.

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The Dismantling of a Society

 It was far into the night when I heard a faint knock at my door. I opened to find a woman standing there with her one palm out-stretched, she apologetically asked me, “Can I borrow a thread … just a single thread … I have been to many doors, just begging for thread before it’s too late…” I almost asked her what color she needed, then I noticed in her left arm she held a worn and torn American flag. Her face was almost translucent, with a sort of timeless and simple beauty. Her dark hair, pulled in a bun behind her head, a white work apron hung over a navy blue full-length dress. Something deep in my soul stirred with a sadness that I would see this day, as I tilted my head sideways to accommodate the shift in reality that was happening in my brain. I opened the door and welcomed her in, in all her weariness and as she passed through my entry way it seemed odd that I could hear no shuffling of her feet. But that was to be expected.

She occupied the area of the chair with a somber humility. That flag was draped across, no, cradled, in her left arm with a reverential sorrow etched across her face. I had seen this look only once before in Michelangelo’s piece called “The Pieta,” where the Madonna held the broken body of Her Son. It was hard to be in the presence of this kind of sorrow. With tears in my eyes, I asked her, “… the thread?” She replied: “All I need is a thread of common sense from every person. Just a thread of common sense so we can mend this glorious banner and all that it stands for …” I tried to hide the cynical pursing of the lips thing I do when I hear hopes such as these, but I apparently failed, and that was when “school began to be in session.” She began:

Look what these foolish people have done to the most beautiful country, the most noble dream that was ever had by mankind! I knew the men and their wives behind them who dreamed a dream of peace, and prosperity and freedom. They knew that peace would only come for all when peace could reign in the hearts of each. It is not merely the absence of war, but the presence of God in the human soul. They knew that prosperity was not a hand-out, but a hand-to-the-plow, and to the anvil, and to any other godly task that sought to cultivate the earth and bring forth fruitfulness. They knew that freedom comes with a cost and demands a responsibility, lest it disintegrate into immoral license. Look what these foolish people have done! The dream that some paid for with their very lives, others have trampled upon while surrendering their own souls to lawlessness and debauchery.

She paused to wipe tears from both sides of her face with the edge of her apron. I hesitated to offer her a cup of tea, lest I remind her of the incident in The Harbor where people first reminded government that unbridled taxations are acrimonious to us. I asked her, “Do you know when the disintegration began, can you put your finger on that moment?”

There are key points that we see as we look over the past fifty years or so. But perhaps it was always a seed of evil here or there in someone’s heart that began the process. Until every heart is full of charity, true kindness to its neighbor, stability will always have a tentativeness to it. But there were key things that I think you can piece together:

Remember how important images are. (she told me, didn’t ask me) When that box with pictures in it was invented it began with stories of families, friends, humorous characters. Now it has degenerated to tales of unrighteousness. Think about what this current culture perceives as “entertainment” – murdering, adultery, cheating, blowing things up, etc. Some even watch what others do in the privacy of their bedroom as entertainment – that is depravity and theft of an unprecedented level. I realize you call them actors, but do they not lose a piece of their own soul when they portray wickedness for you to watch while you eat popcorn? It should nauseate you as a society, instead you generate more and more of it by rewarding the actors with money and status to feed their emotionally broken egos. Then when they kill themselves – literally or figuratively – you mourn their loss as if you ever really knew them as a person who had a soul to tend. It is appalling. And God in His heaven sees this and mourns it.

Then, some strange mentality began to invade the land about removing the Ten Commandments from society. Fools! Without a law, every man will be a law unto his ownself. Since selfishness runs rampant, that can never work out well for a healthy society. For example, in denying the commandment that states: “You shall honor your father and your mother,” You teach the children of the land that they no longer need to Honor their elders, and thus you bring forth a generation of willful, entitled, godless spawn. Then you wonder why, when grown, they kill their own children in the womb for convenience, and abandon the elders who loved them in homes for the aged. They do not play well in sandbox or greater society! They have no moral compass so the gift of freedom becomes merely license for the powerful who will eventually lord it over the ones with less power. They mouth the words of equality, but they make plans for their own rise to hierarchy. This insidious form of self-orientation has come like a foul odor into both institutions of the state and into organized religion. Where there is no godly order, there is no order at all that could respect the hearts and minds of the people. Freedom, when it is perverted to license, actually becomes the very worst sort of slavery – and it is deeply destructive.

Her tone continued with a sobriety and sorrow that I have never heard emanate from the likes of men:

And to the women – you who have permitted this foolish idea of sexual license to become the acceptable standard – do you see now how unstable families have become?! Those who do not honor the marriage bed before marriage are hardly capable of honoring it after marriage. Is it not for the purpose of raising families and creating loving societies that you should marry? Or has this, too, degenerated into selfishness? Passion separated from integrity is like a smoke without a fire: it can evaporate in a short time. The goal is to become the type of people who walk with God, and work for God as they build the society of love around their area of influence. You are to be the city on the hill, the beacon for humankind of what good order and fruitfulness looks like. Imagine the glory of an entire land submitted to this Law of Love!

And to the men – you who think you can gaze with passion upon a woman not your wife and not be found-out? You have turned away from the gift given explicitly to you – your own wife – and allowed a stranger, who is at the same time daughter/sister/wife of another revealed in her vulnerability on the screen for all to see. You victimize this stranger in your imagination, and then you wonder why the love has left your own home? You place the burden of distorted fantasy on the human being that lives beside you and expect them to meet your unbridled, strange passions with enthusiasm, and yet you are unpleasable. When the twin purpose of love and life is divorced from sexuality, all you have is frustration and disappointment. You have made this for yourself. The God of heaven is grieved by the lies you have let take over the most personal part of your hearts. Repent before it is too late!

She continued on with a frankness the likes of which has not been spoken even in churches for years. I know she could have said more but I was almost relieved when she switched to another topic.

Let us speak of a different kind of love for a moment. “Shema.” This word begins the greatest prayer ever uttered by the human heart “Shema,” “Listen.” “Hear O Israel, you shall love the Lord your God with all of your heart, with all of your mind and all of your strength. And you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

So, let us speak of the first Love – this country was built upon an acknowledgement of both divine destiny and a calling into personal accountability and relationship of each creature with its God. This is a mighty privilege and great calling. And yet an evil undercurrent began to pull this country away from acknowledging its Creator. I call it evil, because it is. A small percentage of those who have never had, or have lost their faith, or choose to reject the call to familiarity with godliness, have demanded that His Name not be spoken of or referenced in the documents and daily life of this country. That is ludicrous! They have free will because of this Creator’s gift and so they are free to reject, ignore, etc. but they do not have the right to tamp-out or steal other people’s rights in this regard. It is time for an era of Mutual Respect among persons ~ that each should be able to believe according to his own conscience without fear or reprisal or harassment.

It is very important that in the name of equality, inclusion and diversity, the very ones who cry for respect, shall not disrespect the others. Mutual respect must be across-the-board for everyone. You don’t have to like or agree with someone’s ideas. You don’t have to endorse things that are wrong or immoral, and shouldn’t have to finance the same with your tax money. But you do have to treat each individual with dignity and respect – even if they don’t treat themselves that way! The second part of the “Shema” prayer invites each to love his own neighbor as himself. Is not this respect the very foundation by which all community thrives?

This “loving” of the neighbor is the very thing the prohibitive (those that begin with “Thou shalt not…”) commandments were trying to achieve. Namely, when you do NOT covet your neighbor’s spouse or possessions, you love your neighbor. When you do not steal from a person, you love them. When you do not kill a person, you love them, truly. So, in what universe would abolishing the Ten Commandments achieve anything other than utter chaos?

Her logic was crisp and fair. A silence fell for a moment. She wasn’t done. She was just re-loading.

Have you seen the statue of the lady in the harbor with her lantern lifted for the world? There is an attraction to freedom that reaches out to both the righteous and the unrighteous. For those who are good, it offers an opportunity for a fresh start, for hard work, for pursuing life and love in an environment of possibilities and resources. But those possibilities and resources only exist because someone came earlier and worked hard to create and expand them. It is critical for moments of epic humanitarian crisis to not overshadow the need for a regulatory order. Without order, chaos ensues. If you look at the crisis already existing in your cities – fruit of a fatherless, abandoned society – that is the microcosm of what will happen if undocumented, unscreened people who have no aim to be contributors to the dream will create. It is important for good order, compassion, and clear heads guide this process. In order to achieve the right, bickering must stop among the parties, and common goals should be established. You cannot jeopardize the whole to salvage the parts. You must thoughtfully incorporate the parts that fit and re-direct those that do not.

And regarding those who came before, think back with eyes of wisdom to bring justice in areas where there has been injury. Were there not both natives as well as immigrants as well as captives that were harmed by the hardness of heart or evil within some from the past? Atonement for injustice means, not an entitling of the descendants of the offended - It should be At-one-ment with all parties in this present moment. How are decisions now made to benefit all parties? Do not disenfranchise someone in the present in an attempt to repair a breach that is decades old! Seek to harmonize all decisions and work for true equity and brotherhood. The path forward cannot be trodden alone, healing is cooperative by its very nature.

The clock ticked during a brief moment of silence as she gathered her wits about her. I felt almost inept to respond to her comments. I have lived amidst the storms of these past few decades and I wondered to myself why did she come now to repair and to warn? As if she knew my thoughts by seeing the furrow on my brow she said,

Ah, I have put my burden upon you. I can see it is late for you as well and you are tired. Really, all I wanted was to say my piece and find someone who could see the threads of common sense. I think you do hear my anguish. I am grateful for your hospitality, I must go now … please, do your part to repair our glorious standard …

She hoisted the flag draped over her left arm and I felt hot tears in the corners of my eyes and a twinge in my heart that almost felt religious. She moved smoothly across the room to the door, she did not need me to open the door for her, really, for as she passed down my driveway into the moonlit night, she vanished …

Good bye, Miss Betsy Ross, I will carry your words in my heart … you are a woman of wisdom and greatness … the world is not worthy of you.

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