Thursday, June 24, 2010

The call nobody wants

always seems to come at night. A friend's neighbor, a man I've met on a couple of occasions, is dead, his life taken at his own hand. A son and daughter-in-law are in shock and grieving. They've requested a blessing before the body is take away. And so off into the night I drive, into the dark, into pain and unimagineable suffering.

There are no answers here, no words to explain this, no morsel of wisdom to dull the knife-edge of pain. There is nothing but to stand, to absorb the pain of others, to show tenderness and love and compassion, to pray desperately that the Holy Spirit is present and flowing through me. There is the opportunity to pray a blessing, to sign this man's forehead with the cross, claiming in faith his own previous confession that, in spite of his pain, he knew the Lord. Standing in the dark while the professionals - the sheriff, the medical examiner - go about their morbid business. To stand under the stars, watching the moon rise over this surreal scene, and realize this is where Jesus is, present in the midst of suffering and pain. To trust that God's promise is still true: blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Eye 2 Eye

All the stitches are now out my eye. They weren't planning on taking them all out so soon, but we were having a hard time fitting a contact lens with the stitches still in, so out they came today. Need I say my eyeball currently feels like somebody dumped a bottle of hot sauce in it?

Here's my new definition of willpower: sitting in a chair for 25 minutes while a doctor pokes around in your eye with a tiny scalpel and pair of tweezers, slicing and pulling and prodding. It's a little surreal if you let yourself think about it. So I tried to think about something else. Anything else, really.

Now we go six weeks to let it settle, and then I head back to Seattle for a contact fitting. Which means I'm once again back at that place where I'm essentially blind in my left eye for six weeks. As I've said before, if you catch me winking at you, it's not (necessarily) because I think you're cute. Just that I can't see you.

All that being said, it was a lovely day for a ferry ride to and from Seattle, a stroll around downtown, a quiet moment of prayer in St. James, and fish-n-chips at Ivar's. Other than the excruciating pain and perpetual feeling that I had a thorn stuck in my eye, it wasn't too bad.

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

Does Truth Matter?

I remember a conversation I had with Karl once, back when he worked the front desk at Covenant Village in Turlock. He was sharing, with some sorrow, stories of the lies, scams, and traps into which so many of the residents there fell.

No, not Nigerian inheritance scams. Most had figured that one out already.

They were usually the political or religious ones. More than one resident would proudly display their "authentic, autographed" portrait of George W. Bush (and Laura, too), which they received after sending in their ($fill in the blank) donation to the Republican Party. There might have been one with an "authentic, autographed" portrait of Bill Clinton (and Hillary, too), as well, but this was, after all, Turlock - not exactly a hotbed of liberalism. And then there were the ones with the "authentic, autographed" portraits of Paul Crouch (and Jan, too), which they received as thanks for sending in their monthly donation of ($fill in the blank) to TBN. Karl told me once or twice he had tried to explain the nature of these "autographed pictures," the fact that they are mass-produced, that George W. Bush never sat down at his desk, opened up a letter from Mr. And Mrs. Soderswansonberg, and, upon discovering a check, said to himself "I'm going to send along a thank-you note with my picture." But it was a losing cause. They believed it was personally autographed by the POTUS, or by Paul Crouch himself. And so they continued to send in their money.

A couple years ago, I received an email forward from a woman connected with our church, in which a case was made, painstaking piece of evidence by painstaking piece of evidence, that Barack Hussein Obama is the Antichrist. This was before the election, and the email made it clear that any Christian who voted for Obama would guilty of voting for the Antichrist. I took the time to respond, pointing out that, a) the historical evidence contained in the email was fabricated nonsense, lies, and blatant misrepresentation; b) the theology used to support this view of the antichrist was in no way, shape, or form anything that could be considered a proper use of biblical texts, not to mention also fabricated nonsense and lies; and c) as Christians we are to be a people marked by truth, wisdom, and love, and spreading these kinds of emails does damage to our witness and work in the world.

She promptly wrote back, asking to be removed from our contact lists.

Last year I was asked to take part in the dedication of a memorial garden and plaque in Longbranch. Besides being the presiding minister, I was to play "Taps" as part of the dedication. A few weeks before the event one of the organizers sent me a link to a website detailing the history of Taps, a story which had deeply moved her. I read it, but it sounded suspicious, so did a bit of research. And yes, the story was a fabrication. Touching, to be sure, but not the truth. When I told her, she was disappointed, but it didn't affect the event in any way. (you can read the false story, and the true story of Taps here)

And yet, since then, that story has reappeared across my radar a few times, like yesterday's Memorial Day ceremony at Fair Harbor, at which I played Taps while the memorial wreath was laid upon the water. The Taps story was retold, and it was moving, make no mistake. And the ceremony was beautiful, poignant, and touching. (On a side note, a number of people came forward to lay carnations in memory of a loved one who had died in battle, some back in WW2, one in Afghanistan last year. It was a powerful, emotional moment). I was honored to take part.

But I was reminded that the world is full of these kinds of stories. Some, like the Taps story, are mostly harmless. Others, like the belief that "my picture is autographed," are a little sad in that they come under false pretenses that cost real money. And others, like "Obama is the antichrist," are pretty much sinful. And yet to be a truth-teller carries a real cost. I've offended more than just the one person when I've responded to email forwards that were untrue. Karl realized that all his efforts to dissuade residents of the Village were for naught; either they simply ignored him and held on to their belief, or they were offended that he denied it.

The most difficult piece for me is that we're not talking about opinion here. It's not "a matter of opinion" whether or not Obama is the antichrist. He's not. It's not a matter of opinion whether or not those pictures were "authentically autographed," they weren't. There is a truth here. But it seems we like our myths and legends better than the truth, and we don't like the truth-tellers who come along and knock those stories. And it seems we're just a little to gullible at times. Which may not always be a bad thing; I'd much rather believe the best of people than become a cynic.

I guess what I'm wondering in all of this is whether it's better to go around heading off all these untruths, or just let people enjoy them. Whether it's better to let people remain blissfully unaware, or destroy that bliss with a dose of reality. I believe it's situational; there are some issues that we cannot let slide, but there are other times when I find I'm just not up to the task of ruining somebody's day just to keep the record straight.

Still, if we are to be a people of the truth, which is better? Speaking the truth and destroying somebody else's bliss, or allowing them to hang on to the untruth that makes them happy?