Two scenarios.

1.  Becky and I attended a Bible conference a few weeks ago.  1,500 people packed the room to hear the well-known speakers.  We arrived early enough to find some good seats down front. With 15 minutes or more before the program was scheduled to begin, the auditorium buzzed with the sound of casual conversation among the conference goers. The people behind us – four or five together, it seemed – were especially talkative, and that was fine.  But, yes, I learned more than I cared to know about their families and friends, their opinions on the state of the world, and their disappointment with their new pastor.  Finally, the host of the conference came to the podium to welcome the crowd and tell us about the many books our speakers had written. The room immediately grew silent. Except for the people behind us. They kept on talking.  Not a last word or to finish a sentence, but paragraphs to finish a chapter about their families and friends, their opinions on the state of the world, and their disappointment with their new pastor. It’s not so much that I really wanted to hear the conference announcements or needed to know the titles of the many books our speakers had written, I just did not want to hear any more of the conversation behind us.  If 1,495 people were able to silence themselves, why not these 5?
2. I am out in the early morning light.  I hear the sound of their coming before I see them.  Squawking and the beating of a thousand or more wings flapping. I think they are starlings (though I know very little about birds).  They fly over and then, en masse, maybe 1,500 of them, they light at the top of the trees in a grove just on the other side of our neighborhood.  Within a second or two they are silent.  The squawking ceases and early morning silence descends on the neighborhood.  I don’t know why the birds quiet themselves so quickly.  Is it some sort of Darwinian instinct to ensure their survival?  Are starlings innately polite and want to be sure all the members of the flock hear whatever announcements are to be made that morning? Is their lead bird some authoritarian figure whose demand of silence on the treetops they dare not disobey? Or do they respect their good starling leader and their starling tradition of treetop silence?

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The word “selfie” is not very old, mostly a relic of our smartphone era. But the idea of a selfie is much older than that. My guess is that humans have been doing selfies for about as long as we have been around. We’re fascinated with ourselves.

Recently in some obscure corner of my life a decision was made that took many of those in that small corner by surprise. It’s not what we expected, and it was frustrating, felt hurtful, for some. The decision maker did not make the decision we would have made.  Nothing wrong, nothing unethical or immoral, simply not the decision we expected or wanted. Continue reading →

A dozen years ago, I wrote a post “In Defense of a (My) Dull Routine.” I return to praise that dull routine (and bemoan its interruption) today.  In 2012 I said, “C.S. Lewis is reported to have said of his father that he was a man ‘wed to a dull routine.’ Lewis’ brother Warren wrote, ‘(Our) father had an almost pathological hatred of taking any step which involved a break with the dull routine of his daily existence.’”

The Lewis brothers did not remember their father’s dull routine in a positive light, but as I have confessed myself to be a man wed to a dull routine, I not only defend it as I did twelve years ago, I praise it. My dull routine is a sure defense against sin, in particular, sloth and maybe gluttony.

I routinely wake up at the same time every morning, routinely get dressed  in running or walking wear appropriate to the season, and then, before a walk or a run, spend time with the appointed Scripture readings from the Daily Office found in the Book of Common Prayer. I routinely pray the psalms according to a routine into which I have settled, and then take a verse or two of one of the psalms into my walk or run. Continue reading →

I am just young enough to have avoided the military draft.  Oh, I registered with the Draft Board when I turned 18, but they gave me a student deferment, and before long they instituted a lottery system that sorted your draft eligibility by birthday.  At 261, my number meant I would not be drafted to serve in the then winding down Viet Nam war.  Had I been four or five years older, however, the possibility of being drafted would have been something with which I would have had to deal.

For those of you too young to know, a military draft was in effect during the Viet Nam War era of the 1960s.  It was replaced by a lottery system in 1969, and I received my 261 in 1971. For all sorts of reasons not to be rehashed here, many young men who were ages 18-26 sometime during the Viet Nam War did all they could to avoid being drafted to serve.  If they graduated from college and lost their student deferment, they may have tried for a medical deferment, say asthma or bone spurs in two well-known instances.  Some fled to Canada and others, perhaps more principled whether you agreed with their principles or not, said “Hell no, we won’t go,” burned their draft cards, and refused induction.

A draft of some form has been used six times in American history:  during the  Revolutionary War, the Civil War, World War I, World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. The Constitution in Article I, Section 8, authorizes a military draft.  But the draft has not always been popular with those to be conscripted into service. During the Civil War, wealthy young men paid (legally) $300 (about $6,000 today) for less wealthy men to take their place on the battlefield.

Again, my point is not to debate the controversies of the past.  My concern is that many of our fellow citizens are being drafted into a war they need not fight – no age limits and no deferments. Continue reading →

The temperature was 24 degrees when I set out on my early morning walk. I am tired of cold mornings. I am ready for spring to arrive. In fact, though, I have the cold weather walk thing down pretty well – a good base layer, light mid-layer, fleece gloves, and a quality wool cap. The first half mile to mile of my walk can be a little brisk, but then metabolism kicks in and I stay warm enough.

The key to staying warm but not too warm is the wool cap. Depending on the temperature, it comes off sometime in the first or second mile.  At 24 degrees, I did not take it off until the mile and a half mark. I am a hot head, and if I keep the cap on too long, I’m bound to overheat. Yes, I am a hot head, and the only way to stay cool is to let that cold air do its work.

From time to time, I meet a fellow walker or a runner wearing a cap much heavier than mine along with a hood and maybe some earmuffs. I figure he or she must be a cool head compared to my being a hot head. Good for them. Continue reading →