Why Bother?

Thoughts on faith and cynicism...

The journey of Lent is a journey of forty days. It is after all modeled after Jesus and his time in the wilderness. In the famous temptations of turning rocks into bread, doing a swan dive from the pinnacle of the temple and excepting Satan’s offer to rule the world he doesn’t give in and for our sake, never gives up on who he is and what he must do. Isn’t that the issue that surrounds Lent? Are we going to give up on ourselves, let alone our confidence and faith in God? This is always the haunting temptation that Jesus faced and we face ourselves. Do I become apathetic and cynical? After all, being a person of faith in this world is an uphill battle all the way. You can always hear the voice saying, “let go of it – it’s not worth it – what’s in it for you really?” In a larger way, the question always come into your mind that asks, “do you really think you can make a difference in this world? Do you really think that your actions can change things?” The tempter’s voice always find it’s way into your ears with the words, “forget it, it’s too much, it won’t work, it will never happen, WHY BOTHER.”

For example, when you look at our world and what is taking place - as I write this we are bombing Libya and are watching traces of radiation being detected in Massachusetts. The nuclear reactors in Japan are still cause for great concern as radiation is being released into our oceans as very brave men try to work towards preventing a total nuclear meltdown in three plants. As I read the papers, I see the huge controversy taking place in Wisconsin and of course the issue of our own country let alone all of our states trying to balance their budgets with huge cutbacks. When you look forward you sometimes wonder where to begin or why bother?

The why bother part is I think a big part of the malazes that we face. I am just going to think about myself and try to survive. Many people are simply trying to build a wall around their own little world and live in a cocoon. This is a very cynical outlook and breeds apathy. On one level it looks like there are a lot of lost causes out there so why bother trying to change things? Of course I’m used to lost causes because I’m always trying to push them even though the odds are not always in my favor and the outlook sometimes looks dim. Cynicism is always biting at my heels.

Thankfully I am a person of faith and here again, many people would say to me “why bother” because it seems like Christianity is losing ground in our secular world! But faith while it needs doubt to make it really faith is the opposite of cynicism. Faith is about hope, about energy, about conviction and about believing that things can change for the better.

Sometimes when you are in the middle of a mess, it looks dark and hopeless but through vigilant efforts things change. For example, I never thought that I would ever see in my lifetime the Berlin Wall coming down. I wondered about the AIDS/HIV epidemic in Africa, but when I came to a village in Zambia and listened to one of it’s female leaders who shared what was happening in that village to fight against the AIDS/HIV epidemic, I was encouraged that maybe the African continent might someday be free of this surge.

The world is turning and spinning faster than I can imagine. The internet, Facebook and Twitter are remarkable ways to communicate. They have help spurn revolutions all through the Middle East. Egypt has fallen, Tunisia as well and without being too overly optimistic, Libya will too. I don’t want to look to the past for direction and I don’t want to live in the past. The only way to look is forward.

Stephen Colbert of The Colbert Report said this: “cynicism is a self imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid that it will hurt or disappoint us.” Just another way of saying that I am not going to do anything because I am afraid of failure and rejection. That is not what faith is all about. That is not what the resurrection of our Lord is all about. In fact it is the opposite because it is the hope for a new day, a new and transformed life and for eternal life. We can’t get lost in Lent, but must realize it leads us to Holy Week, Good Friday and finally Easter and the resurrection.

--MEH

That's The Stuff That Woody Allen Movies Are Made Of...

The Carlyle Hotel is part of the things that books are written about. It’s a legendary place where John F. Kennedy would meet women such as Marilyn Monroe. It is also a place for famous people like Mick Jagger who stay there when he is in town and the many singers who perform in the very little club that inhabits this hotel. The most famous of whom has been Bobby Short who sang here until he died. I’ve had the privilege of going here a few times, once to hear Bobby Short where I sat at the bar and another time to hear Barbara Cook. This time I was here to see Woody Allen who has been playing here on Monday nights for quite a while. Being a fan of his movies, I really was looking forward to seeing him perform musically.

Woody Allen & Eddy Davis

© FocalChange 2011 / All Rights Reserved

As we entered the place with the intentions of having dinner, you could immediately tell this place was pretty exclusive. Just the flower arrangements alone gave you the feeling that this is where the elite meet to eat. As we turned to go into the club, there was a huge picture of Bobby Short, never looking better. This was his compound back in the day. Now we were here to have a great dinner and to see the legendary actor, movie director, comedian and writer play the clarinet with his band.

As we walked in, I began to get the feeling that we were in a Woody Allen movie. There was a bizarre looking group of people gathering. You didn’t find these people in church too often and as the three of us were pushed into a little area, we began to look around at the ambiance of this little club that was almost claustrophobic when everyone started to gather for the appearance of Woody Allen. You got the feel of a 1930’s supper club with the huge murals and the curvy walls that surrounded this very elegant place. The murals looked like something from Toulouse-Lautrec, but later I find out they are by the Oscar winning French artist, Marcel Vertes. Either way, they make the place look unique and like something out of a small French club in Paris. I had read that Richard Rogers was even the first tenant of the Carlyle. Somehow you could tell that this place was haunted with the usual famous suspects. If the walls could talk, we’d all be dead.

Yet amidst the elegance of a classic MGM set, with people out of central casting eating dinner and as the band was making odd noises tuning up, an old, balding thin man with big glasses and khaki pants walked onto the stage from out of nowhere. Was that Woody Allen? Yes it was. He’s not looking at anybody; he’s looking and putting together his instrument from out of a box. The place is really getting full now, it’s two and three deep at the bar and people are wandering in and standing at the door. We’re still waiting for a drink. Our waiter seems to come by every two hours.

Soon the music begins. Woody Allen is surprisingly good. He’s blowing his brains out on a clarinet and seems to be doing it masterfully from what I know about clarinet players. It’s all great and I feel like I’m transported into a simmering little jazz club with a New Orleans band. Half way through, we still haven’t gotten our food. The table down from us is talking as if nobody was performing. A long time later, the wine still has not come, the food was cold and if you threatened to say anything bad to this waiter, he could pour the wine in your lap or not come around again for another day or two. It’s all a little bizarre; with people taking pictures with their cameras from all angles of this man that looks much older than I thought. He tries not to make eye contact with anyone the whole night; he’s looking down at the floor when he is not playing. Finally at the end, with all of the clapping, he is left there sitting next to an old banjo player who has logged many hours in places like this, perhaps next to Woody Allen himself all these years. Allen sits there not making eye contact and begins to clean his clarinet, then suddenly with his partner, begins to sing softly some tunes. The banjo guy is smiling and is sort of the “Ed McMahon” who can pull a Johnny Carson out of a funk type of guy. He makes Woody Allen look even better. Finally, Allen says thank you to everyone and walks off and is hugged by some woman standing in his way. I’m almost ready for someone to hold up a director’s boards that says “Take one, scene one”, but instead of saying “cut”, the guy says “here’s your wine.” It’s funny when you order your wine at the beginning of your meal and it comes at the end, but that’s the stuff that Woody Allen movies are made of.

Q: What's in a handshake?

A: More than you think…..

I was at the opera last night enjoying the wonderful production of Don Pasquale. I noticed in the playbill that there is actually an opera entitled, “Nixon in China”. I was taken back that someone could actually do an opera about Richard Nixon. I shouldn’t be surprised because someone actually has and it has premiered this year at the Met. It is actually about the history-making trip that a very conservative president made to Communist China in 1972. Nixon was a real almost McCarthyite, blacklist Communist fighter in his past. Now, he of all people is making a historic trip to China in which had been characterized as “the week that changed the world.”

As I read an article by journalist Bernard Kalb, I was intrigued by the questions people were asking. One in particular was would Nixon shake the hand of China’s premier Chou En-Iai? In the past, - during the Geneva conference of 1954, U.S. Secretary of State John Foster Dulles snubbed Chou by refusing to shake his hand. The Chinese never forgot that snub. Now, the world was wondering, would Nixon do the same? Actually, Nixon stepped out of the plane; arm first, hand jutting forward, to reach for the outstretched hand of the communist premier. History had just happened. For 25 years there was no communication, but that would change with a handshake and from there a break in the icy cold relations between the U.S. and China.

It’s interesting what a small thing like a handshake, a smile, a pat on the back or a welcoming gesture can do to a situation. Every Sunday, we observe an ancient Christian ritual that goes back to the earliest of times – the sharing of the peace. It is a handshake, or a hug or an affectionate kiss that takes place in the middle of our worship. Even there it cracks open all formality, allowing warmth, physicality, hospitality and sincerity to touch others in a very palpable way. Every Sunday we have an opera going on where the people of God gather to remember and lift up the mighty deeds of God and reaffirm his promises. We gather for the Eucharist, but we’re sealing it all with a wish for the peace that passes all human understanding by sharing with each other the peace of Christ and simply shaking each other’s hand.

Out of Egypt.

Cairo is a city of congestion with lots of people walking in every direction almost as thick as the dented cars that are honking their horns as they weave into tight spaces trying to move ahead. We were on foot walking to the wonderful Cairo Museum. A museum that has change very little in twenty-five years since the first time I darkened it’s doors to see the amazing treasures of King Tutankhamun. In fact the Egyptian citizens probably felt the same way about their country. Nothing has changed for the last thirty years under the iron fist rule of Hosni Mubarak. When things don’t change, it breeds a sense of hopelessness. As much as us nostalgia buffs want to keep things the same, we know that change is a gift and new innovative things are a part of the way God has created this thing we call “life.”

So, amid the toxic pollution of Cairo, there comes a breath of fresh air. It is the fresh air of change, of hope and of freedom. Night after night, I was amazed by the tenacity of those who came to demonstrate against this old regime that had held people down from self-actualization, achievement and personal fulfillment. It’s hard to go to school and then spend the rest of your life drinking coffee with others who have no job. But then, day after day people got up with a glimmer of hope to stand in front of tanks for the most part peacefully and demand freedom. It’s interesting what freedom does. The hope of it makes you lock arms with the person next to you to form a human barrier to prevent people from entering the Cairo Museum and stealing objects that belong to the World and to Egypt.

Freedom also gives you pride where before you had none. I was amazed to see people after Mubarak stepped down go into places like the Tahrir Square and begin cleaning up the mess of debris, litter and garbage that had accumulated during nearly three weeks of demonstrations. Freedom gives you a sense of pride and hopefully responsibility. It almost seems like it came immediately to these Egyptians who took responsibility to clean up the streets that they had littered.

On our walk to the Cairo Museum I noticed two huge lion sculptures at the base of the Qasr el-Nil Bridge. You can’t help but notice them because they are so huge. Later, I saw pictures of people cleaning them. I’m sure they haven’t been cleaned for years but as one person said, “this is our country now and we must take care of it.” It brought a smile to my face and made me think about how much we take freedom for granted in this country. It’s a shame that so few people vote on Election Day here. The contrast is almost jarring when you see people risking their lives, standing in front of tanks and in front of harms way to obtain that same privilege. That alone speaks volumes.

Thoughts on a revolution.

I have been to Egypt a few times, but this time was a bit different. We spent a lot of time on foot, in cars and saw the countryside in an up close and personal way. It’s a land of great importance, not only as an ally to the United States, but in the part that it plays in the history of our faith. It was Mary and Joseph who fled to Egypt to save their very lives. It was the exodus out of Egypt that is remembered in our Judeo-Christian past by the Passover. When the children of Israel wandered for forty years, it was in the desert of Sinai. When Moses received the Ten Commandments, he does so on Mt. Sinai. Even today there is a strong Christian presence in Egypt known as the Coptic Church. In Luxor we actually encountered the wonderful hospitality of the Coptic Church and were privy to a wedding.

We were just traveling through for a few days to see the wonders of this country. It is the land of the pyramids and pharaohs. It is the land of that famous river called “the Nile”, where the baby Moses was discovered by the Egyptian princess. It is a nation of tombs, mummies, sarcophagus’ and graves, with such places as the tomb of King Tutankhamen and the Valley of the Kings.

Egypt may be a land of history filled with dead mummies and monuments to the dead, but it is very much alive today. As you travel you can feel the weight of history all around you, but you can also see enormous congestion, horrific traffic, smog you can taste because it is so thick. Rivers look polluted and have become dumping grounds. The streets are full of garbage and cars are driving wildly in every direction, never staying within the lanes. It is a modern day “Dodge City. ”You are dealing with enormous poverty with people living in shacks. The salary that most people are living on is under $2000.00 per year. The government is subsidizing bread, which is the basic food of life for the ordinary Egyptian.

I found it unique and different, but at the same time, depressing. It’s a country that has been dominated for decades by dictators. It is a country with massive corruption, which leaves its people victimized and caught in a cycle of never ending poverty. It’s not an old country for 60% of the people are under thirty years old. There are lots of young people who are educated, but have no jobs and no future. The wealthy always put their foot on the necks of those who are pressed. Now the people are speaking and it’s a message being heard around the world. It’s a message of frustration and anger that is calling for Hosni Mubarak to step down and end this toxic rule that is choking the life out of Egypt’s people.

The people I met in Egypt were friendly. And despite how poor they were, they maintained a smile, a hospitable attitude and a willingness to help those who come as a tourist to enjoy their country. Now it’s their time to get a break, to have democracy and to have freedom.

"Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will Be Done” - Reflections on Sargent Shriver - Part II

Memory is a powerful thing. Sometimes people say I can forgive but never forget. At other times, things seem to slip away and much of our past gets forgotten. Memories can bring a smile to you or they can cause you to weep. If you are from my generation, you can remember the day Kennedy was assinated and what you were doing at the time. You can probably still see in your mind, that young man in his early forties saying “ask not what the country can do for you, but what you can do for the country.” To test your memory even more, can you remember whom the presidential candidate was that Sargent Shriver ran with for the Vice Presidential nomination? For those who don’t know, it was George McGovern.

Shriver did many things from the Peace Corps to the Special Olympics. It all centered around a world of action, not cheap talk or empty promises. I always remember his smile, the enthusiasm in his voice that made him a motivational force. In later years and most recently, I have seen him as an old man. He still has some remains of his good looks, if you can look great at 96.

I am told he died of Alzheimer’s, unable to identify even his own children. Alzheimer’s is a devastating disease which sends chills up my own spine. How you can lose your memory and forget people in your life like your own wife or children makes me sad. I can only imagine how tough it is on family members. But if you are Sargent Shriver and can’t remember the tremendous life of public service, I can only say it’s tragic.

I grew up in a very conservative, Lutheran environment. Every day in school we had to recite from memory, versus of the bible. I chaffed under these assignments. Never the less, I can still recite passages from memory and of course recognize a lot more because of all of those memory work assignments.

In the end, when Sargent Shriver couldn’t remember his family or close friends or even his life, he could still say the Lord’s Prayer word for word. Perhaps when our time is up in old age and we have been divested of most of our dignity, surrounded by caregivers, we can hold on to the words of the only prayer that Jesus taught his disciples.

An invitation to break mirrors - Thoughts on the life of Sargent Shriver – Part I

Growing up in the 60’s was an adventure, especially in San Francisco. I can always remember the days of Camelot with names like the Kennedy’s, Martin Luther King and others. One name that comes at me out of the past is that of Sargent Shriver. He was lesser known to most because the Kennedy clan was so large and charismatic, but in his own right he was an enormous person. His good looks, his charismatic style, his deep faith and his boundless energy made him an astonishing leader. Even in the shadow of the Kennedy legacy he was a giant of his times.

He was known most for starting the Peace Corps in which he sent thousands of young Americans around the world to get involved in the lives of people of other nations. It still goes on today. He is also responsible for the “War on Poverty” under the Johnson administration. His involvement stretched far and wide into a world of action. He just didn’t talk about things he made them happen.

I was struck by something that I learned in the recent days since his death. A New York Times article reported that he told graduating students at Yale in 1994 to “break mirrors”. “Yes, indeed, “ he said, “Shatter the glass. In our society that is so self-absorbed, begin to look less at yourself and more at each other. Learn more about the face of your neighbor and less about your own.” I thought to myself, that’s good advice. Too often in our preoccupied self-absorbed universe we don’t have time to notice others. In some ways it echoes Jesus’ words, “lose your life to discover what life is all about.” Matthew 16:25

Today on January 20th, we observe the 50th Anniversary of John Fitzgerald Kennedy’s famous inaugural address where he notes that the torch has been passed to a new generation. That same torch of selfless service, giving and caring beyond one’s own life, still rings true to this and every generation. Perhaps it’s time to break a few mirrors again.