An Affair to Remember

They say that confession is good for the soul, so here goes.  I had an affair.  There I said it.  My affair?  With laundry. With my wife out of town I found myself staring down the stinky end of a clothes hamper for the entire weekend.

Confession #2:  On weekends I have been known to re-wear my apparel.   If it has weathered the previous week with only a smudge of peanut butter and a couple splashes of coffee, there's a pretty good chance I'll don it on Saturday.  I do however draw the line at clothing I happen to be wearing around sick people. 

I, like most men,  think my dirty clothes are capable of movement.  Regardless of where the hamper is placed, my dirty items are always found on top of it, in front of it, or hanging from a doorknob.  My Mom once said something like, "Your socks are so filthy, they could walk to the machine by themselves.", and I believed her.  Why not?  The next time I looked they were gone and had reappeared magically clean and Downy Fresh in my drawer.  When I got married over 30 years ago I found out very quickly that  David Copperfield does not walk in the house while I am at work and wave some magic wand that obliterates skid-marks and ring around the collar.  There is nothing magical about having grab a pair of balled up underwear and throw them in to the laundry.  I would rather stick my hand in a septic tank.

 

During my recent affair I discovered something. Chinese engineers have developed a cloth that cleans itself. This could have a revolutionary impact on the detergent or laundry industry. Soon, our everyday, ordinary clothes will have the capacity to clean themselves. (www.extremetech.com/extreme/109215-chinese-invent-self-cleaning-cotton-clothes).

How is this possible? According to one study, dunking cotton into a vat of specially-crafted nanoparticles creates a material that self-cleans when exposed to sunlight. In one test, Chinese engineers dyed materials for 30 minutes in an orange dye. They then hung the clothes beneath simulated sunlight. The dye's hold over the fabric broke, and, after a time, easily washed off with water.

Can you imagine?  (I suppose this could go well with the marketing philosophy of AX products).  College students will no longer need to peel off their clothes after a long night of ... studying. They now can awaken, splash a little water on their faces, and stroll to class, ready and prepared for the day. Or, no need to stuff a carry-on bag with extra T-shirts or blouses. I can take a couple changes of clothes for my vacation trip and call it good. 

 

Self-cleaning clothes, however, aren't an excuse for laziness. Something is still required if I really desire cleanliness. I can't rip off my clothes and lump them into a pile, only to don them afresh come dawn. I still need to, at the very least, both hang them and rinse them, which is, strangely, similar to God's demands.  In other words, to be restored -- to be washed clean -- some work is necessary.

Click Here 

People Patrol

The first time one of our children came home from school with a note proclaiming that the notorious head louse had once again made an appearance I became a "nit-picker." Each "nit," or tiny egg of the louse, must be meticulously combed, picked or pulled from the single strand of hair it is attached to. The fact that this procedure was carried out on our squealing, enraged, embarrassed six-year-old only made the task that much more unpleasant. I have a confession to make. Unfortunately, I am like the people in my life who have perfected the art of nit-picking.  I too often feel compelled to demonstrate my skill in too many situations in my life.  I have been on 'people patrol' for over 52 years now and I am not so sure that is a good thing.  I am a Pharisee - there - I said it.

My Nit-picking always involves noting what is wrong with something and someone rather than what is right. Too often I can't enjoy anything, especially anything that has a flaw in it. With little sense of humor I get to be a pickiness-person and look for a spiritual or theological or moral "gotchas" to flaunt at others. I too well remember the nit-pickers in the story of the blind man's healing? Instead of rejoicing with the man at the miracle of regained sight, they can only focus on the possible Torah infringements that might have made it possible. (See John 9).  Oh how the Bible interprets me more than I interpret it.

Have you noticed that an accomplished nit-picker can burst any celebratory balloon? "The wedding was so beautiful; such a shame the groom couldn't have lost a few pounds for the occasion." "Congratulations on your new promotion. But you've still got an awful lot of the ladder to climb, don't you?" "The new sanctuary looks wonderful. Of course, we'll probably never grow enough to fill it or pay for it!" Deflating joy, tarnishing triumphs - that's what nit-pickers do best. Ouch!

Wound-Lickers

I remember getting a mosquito bite or a small scratch when I was a kid and then having to listen to my parents' repeated, "now don't pick at it." Of course, they had to keep telling me because there is something self-destructively fascinating about an open wound. We are drawn to it, we want to mess with it, re-examine it, pull off he scab a little at a time to see how it is healing. But this fixation can easily lead to infection - even to death.

Veterinarians must go to ridiculous-looking extremes to discourage this self-destructive instinct in their patients. In dogs and cats repetitive, damaging wound-licking can undo in a matter of minutes all the work a vet has put in on a patient for days. We once had a cat named Mr. Rogers that lost his leg in a trap.  Three inches of infected leg and paw was amputated and the remainder carefully stitched up. A week later Mr. Rogers managed to get at the healing wound, licking and gnawing it open. More infection.  Now left with nothing but a four inch stump, Mr. Rogers began to convalesce once more. But again the wound-licking fixation drove the cat to try and get at the healing stump. His licking caused the bandaged stump to swell and a horrible infection set in that spread throughout his whole system. To the best of my memory a head-gear (a cone), tranquilizers and massive amounts of antibiotics managed to save our cat's life. A wound had nearly destroyed him.

When the Pharisees in John 9:18 recall the healed man's parents as possible witnesses against his previous condition of blindness, they are being wound-lickers. They cannot leave the situation alone, but return to it, trying to expose some imagined wrongfulness. These Pharisees do not even realize that the wound they are re-opening is the gaping hole of their own ignorance and spiritual bankruptcy. Double Ouch!

Goodness-sakers

Remember the old saw about the mother who had to leave her two young children alone in the house for a few minutes? Before leaving, she sternly ordered the children, "Now don't put beans up your noses while I'm gone!" Left to their own devices it probably would have taken an eternity before those kids would have come up with such a bizarre idea, but since their mother had singled it out as an especially obnoxious act, the children were inspired. Of course, when their mother returned home, she found two children rolling around in pain with beans firmly stuffed up their noses.

There is a distinct category of people who inspire similar kinds of contrary behavior in most of us.  "These" are the "goodness-sakers" - those self-appointed crusaders for the promotion of righteousness. "They" consider themselves - and let all the rest of us know it - to be super-spiritual.  These are people who stand around saying, "For goodness sake, why doesn't somebody do something." Or "For goodness sake, look at what they're doing."  Now - I would NEVER do that.  Truth is I have probably done more hindrance to the Good News than help over the years.  Truly thankful God is not finished with me yet - I hope.  I really do.

Few people can be as infuriating and sin-provoking as goodness-sakers. Smart-aleck remarks and visions of dirty tricks seem to float to the top of our minds all by themselves as we listen to the platitudes and puffed-up piety goodness-sakers blow at us. The Pharisees in John's story haughtily invoke their relationship to Moses as a sign of their spiritual superiority (v. 28).  

The healed man, who had shown great self-control up to this point, is at last driven to jab back at these upright, up-tight self-appointed guardians of do-gooding. As usual with goodness-sakers, however, they don't even get the point of the sarcasm directed their way.  Triple the Ouch!

Arm-Wavers

Thank heaven that besides the nit-pickers, wound-lickers and goodness-sakers there are also arm-wavers. These are the people that celebrate victories and lend support in times of defeat. Arm-wavers hoot and holler when their child's Little League team wins the big game - but they also give great hugs and "it's O.K." looks when the team loses 10 in a row. It's not that arm-wavers don't see all the imperfections in that hand-knit size 98 sweater or in life. It's just that they focus on all the beauty that surrounds the flaws instead of the flaws themselves.

It is amazing how arm-wavers are absent for so long from John's story of the healed blind man. Here is a stunning miracle - a man blind since birth suddenly given sight - and no one celebrates. His neighbors are doubtful, his parents are worried about the religious and legal ramifications, while the Pharisees find the whole episode threatening and foreboding. Not until the healed man himself finally realizes who Jesus is and what his presence means do we get the first sign of arm-waving. Indeed, when Jesus' identity finally sinks in, the man offers a full body-wave - he falls on his knees and worships the "Lord" (verse 38). I am not blind and have not seen nearly enough.  Back to people patrol duty.

Presbyopia

I got caught.  I was holding my cell phone at arm's length like a rancid diaper.  Why do I lean away from the menu with my eyes agape, like the blue-plate special is a cat?  Would you believe I just might have presbyopia?  I know what you are thinking but it is not a religious disease that only Presbyterians catch.  Yes, Presbyterians may come down with it, but Baptists, Methodists, Catholics, Lutherans, Muslims, Hindus, and Buddhists are equally susceptible.

I have learned that Presbyopia is a common eyesight problem.  It comes from presby (meaning "elder/older man) and opia meaning "eye" or "having to do with eyesight").  It is the slow deterioration of close-up focus.  I am certainly not an ophthalmologist or optometrist.  My little bit of internet research (now that's reliable right?) tells me that Presbyopia develops when the clear lens of the eye loses its elasticity.  Elasticity changes focus, and focus determines whether I order sirloin steak or shrimp scampi.

 Yes, I got caught.  I was trying to make out the caller ID, and trying to read a menu.  Even with bifocals I hold my reading material like God never gave me elbows.  A few years ago my wife treated her eyes to a laser. 

She now treats her progressive presbyopia with inexpensive reading glasses.  We both juggle not four eyes but six.  She more than me.  She stashes several pairs of cheap readers in all sorts of places - nightstand, office, couch cushions.  But none of them seem to be around when the cell phone rings or it is time to change the channel on the TV.

 There is a treatment for this.  It is a light beam aimed at the ciliary muscles (the lens focusers).  Apparently after five 10-minute sessions and periodic tune-up treatments, patients report that their glasses are obsolete.  In other words, application of light sharpens focus on the world.  Who would have thought?

There is a guy named Bartimaeus in the Bible who has two strikes against him - he is blind, and he is begging.  In Jesus' culture this was a perfect prescription for being overlooked (no pun intended).

As Jesus passes by, Bartimaeus calls out for mercy.  The crowd rebuked him - and attempted to put Bart back in his place on the food chain.  He had persistence and faith told him that this Jesus fellow was his only chance at sight, so he yelled out even louder. Turns out that Bart is the only person in the crowd who could truly see that day.  Jesus heals him and he receives his sight.  Bart knew what I need to hear every day: Application of Light sharpens our focus on the world.

I have presbyopia in more than one way.  I don't see things clearly or spiritually most of the time.  A lot of things are still blurry to me.  I need to sharpen my vision.  I have Baptisopia - others have Methodyopia, Lutheropia and so on.

This week is a time that has been set aside to pray for victims of Human Trafficking and for those who participate in this appalling, disgusting slavery. 

(www.traffickstop.org)  

When life gets fuzzy, I need focused Light.

www.notforsalecampaign.org

The anti-human-trafficking agency Not For Sale reports that there are more than 30 million slaves in the world today.  That's more slaves than were kept at the height of the transatlantic slave trade in the 1800s.  Lest you think this kind of thing only takes place in countries other than the good old US.

http://missionohio.e-quip.net/presentations/show/2968  

My Christian view of God recognizes that every person is made in the image of God.  Life is valuable.  This is certainly an issue that needs more Light application for more focus. The coming of Jesus means Light into dark places (John 1:5).  Bartimaeus knew that day and screamed out in faith and received his sight.  For Bart, there was only one way to get sight: Apply Light to sharpen his focus on the world.

I confess I too often have blurred vision when it comes to issues.  For me and my blurred vision the answer is the same:  "Apply Light."  My prayer is that I will have renewed courage to learn from Bart.  I pray that I will be able to take the lens of Scripture and Light of Christ and apply them to issues that I don't focus on and don't see clearly.  How about you? Join me.

http://freedomringalliance.org/

http://www.weekendofprayer.net

http://truckersagainsttrafficking.org

(I think this website is really cool.  I always wanted to be a trucker)

I Still Say Merry Christmas

For those who do follow this blog - thank you and apologies.  This blogger has had some major challenges of a dental nature over the past few months and, frankly, has not felt too well.  I am feeling much better.  Remember:  Time, the great healer and revealer.

Now - a few comments, questions, and an old war story for the season.

Our family discussion this week surrounded the reason our house is the least decorated on the block. I would like to say it is because I have been convalescing this past month; however,  a dear lady who passed away this past year (whose house is still empty) has a more festive exterior facade than ours.  One of the traditions of the season in our home is putting up the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving.  I know some folks who wait until Christmas Eve.  Some folks will scurry home after church this coming Sunday, prop up that evergreen, untangle the snarled and unblinking string of lights, haul out the various and sundry ornaments that range from crystal bells to delicate bulbs to the popsicle stick and paste creation from a child’s kindergarten class.

It's been the same for centuries, ever since we Christians adopted the symbol adopted the symbols from Germanic paganism - the evergreen being seen as a symbol of eternal life because it’s always green even in the dead of winter. Wherever you go these days, you can expect to see that basic triangular shape, be it artificial or real — beautiful green boughs narrowing upward to the point where you put the star.  But wait a second. Before you anchor that tree in its stand and find a place on it for the those candy canes you’ve kept since the Carter administration, consider checking out a recent trend in Christmas tree chic — an idea that could flip the whole idea of the Christmas tree on its ear — literally. This past decade has seen the advent of the  upside-down, ceiling-mounted Christmas tree.

That’s right, for the past few years a small movement is growing where people are actually attaching their Christmas trees upside down with the base on the ceiling — a holiday stalactite, if you will. It’s an upside-down, backward approach to the conventional positioning of a Christmas tree. Like just about anything these days, though, the concept isn’t exactly new. Upside-down Christmas trees date all the way back to 12th-century Europe, though they’ve been out of vogue for nearly a millennium.

The traditionalist argument: Why would you be so gauche as to nail a tree to the ceiling? After all, that’s not Christmas! Some might even argue that the shape of the tree points to heaven, which would make it a sin to turn it upside down.

This next week we will celebrate Christmas with our new church - our first Christmas Eve service here. I remember a few churches ago (ministerially speaking) a packed Christmas Eve sanctuary on our first Christmas Eve service with them, with many new visitors and a festive atmosphere. My wife and I went to the door to greet people after the service, believing that all was right with the world, when one of the long-time church members came to the door but refused to shake my hand. Scowling, “Thanks for ruining my Christmas — we didn’t sing “The First Noel” as the second carol. We’ve always sung that carol second in the order of worship on Christmas Eve. Without that, it’s just not Christmas.”

It could have been its own animated special: “The Pastor Who Stole Christmas.”   Yes, that's me - the Pastoral Grinch - trying my best to ruin Christmas for as many as I can. There’s nothing like tweaking sacred tradition to tick people off.  I have noticed over the years of doing the Christmas Eve marathon that Christmas is the ultimate holiday sacred cow. Texans say "Don't mess with Texas."  I say "You just don’t mess with Christmas."  For many people the biggest fear of this season is that Christmas won’t happen according to plan, that something will go awry and ruin Christmas thoroughly.  The truth is that, especially for us baby boomers, we’ve been trained to think this way. Remember all your childhood animated Christmas specials? The Grinch, Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Charlie Brown — what’s the basis for those stories? Someone is out to ruin Christmas and to keep it from coming. (Remember - that's me!) All must be perfectly restored to order for the season to be valid.

People just seem to get wrapped around the axle about the smallest things this time of year. Indeed we all have our expectations, our hopes, our “perfect” scenarios, whether it be for a holiday or for any other aspect of our lives. For some reason, we don’t like any deviation — no upside-down-ness to our lives. Now - my life?  Lot's of upside-down-ness.  That is probably why I make people nervous.

The Scriptures that I will read on Christmas Eve, however, tells me that turning things upside down is exactly the agenda of the coming King.

The prophet Micah wrote about a coming reversal in fortune for the people of Israel. The nation faced God’s judgment because of their apostasy — a judgment carried out by enemies who would build a wall of siege against them and “strike the ruler of Israel upon the cheek” in an open display of disdain (Micah 5:1). The old patterns of idolatry and corruption that characterized the reign of many of their kings had made the nation almost Grinch like in its devotion to self-interest, material gain and oppression of the weak (Micah 2:1-2).

In the midst of this prophecy of judgment and tough times ahead, God still offered hope. A new king would arise who would break this old pattern and, in effect, turn things upside down. His origins from the lowly town of Bethlehem, “one of the little clans of Judah,” are a signal that God is interested in overturning the human expectations of power and prestige in favor of uplifting the weak (5:2).

Jesus came amidst a swirl of expectations about a messiah who would save people and do it according to a preconceived and religiously approved plan. He was expected to wield a sword instead of a shepherd’s crook and make peace by eliminating the enemies, particularly the minions of Rome who occupied the first century land. The Messiah was to make a list, check it twice, determine who was naughty and nice and make sure that the ultimate holiday — the restoration of Israel — would come according to the script, complete with happy ending and roll the credits.

 Instead, Jesus does nothing less than turn their expectations upside down and hang them from the spiritual ceiling as a way of making room for everyone. He preached love over and against vengeance for enemies. He spent time with the outcasts and proclaimed that they would be the new “in” crowd. He was a great teacher but performed as a lowly servant, even washing feet. For Jesus the categories of rich and poor, in and out, great and humble, even life and death were all reversed. It’s no wonder that traditionalists would argue that he was ruining everything and want him out of the picture. 

We followers of Jesus have a lot of work ahead.  In the mean time: MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I still say Merry Christmas in public and like the First Noel but as the first song instead of the second.  That's GOT to be Silent Night for me.  If not, "its just not Christmas."

Just a reminder for the season:  Don't text and drive:)