Everyone in the World Has a Bucket

As any new year approaches, it is common to offer re-caps and “best of” lists. This week I’m revisiting a column which garnered many positive comments the first time it appeared three years ago at the beginning of another new year. As we’re leaving a year which has seen its share of heartbreak and destruction, it is more important than ever for each of us to immerse ourselves in the wisdom which is at the heart of this simple message: 

I'm convinced that children have a better grasp of theology than almost any adult I know. Scripture solidifies that opinion when quoting Jesus as saying, ". . . Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matt. 18:3-4) Children, it would seem, may have the upperhand, spiritually. When they speak we probably should listen.

When my grandson is asked what he learned at school, usually he'll say something along the lines of, "Same old thing." But one day, not long ago, he had a new thing to say. His teacher had read something to the class which one of his friends had brought to school.  "Everyone in the whole world has a bucket," he told me with the wide-eyed, earnest enthusiasm of a seven-year-old who had just found a way to express a great truth he had always known. There's no telling exactly how the story went originally, but he continued with his interpretation.

"Some people are bucket-dippers, and some people are bucket-fillers. When someone is a bully and they say or do mean things, they're a bucket-dipper, and they're trying to empty someone else's bucket so they can fill up their own. But they can never fill up their own bucket by being mean; it really just makes their bucket empty. When someone is a bucket-filler, they do nice things, like say hello to the mailman or smile at everyone. When they do that, they're trying to fill up other people's buckets, but they're really filling up their own bucket, too. Being nice is the only way to fill up your bucket."

Psalm 8:2 says, "From the mouth of infants and nursing babes You have established strength because of Your adversaries, to make the enemy and the revengeful cease." 

If we all try to be strong by being bucket-fillers every day, eventually the bucket-dippers will be silenced, because everyone's bucket would be full. And when everyone's bucket is full, there won't be any reason to fight.

Peace on Earth, Goodwill to All

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) was an American poet whose works include "Paul Revere's Ride” and “The Song of Hiawatha.” He wrote the kind of poetry which children read when I was in school. In fact, I memorized his poem “The Village Blacksmith” when I was in fifth grade. It begins with a line of verse I have never forgotten:

Under a spreading chestnut tree

  The village smithy stands;

The smith, a mighty man is he,

  With large and sinewy hands;

I suppose the poem reminded me of my own father. An honest, hardworking man, he was bighearted, friendly and loving. In my mind he was invincible. I felt safe and secure in his presence. With dad on my side, troubles of the world could not come near and no evil would befall me.

I long for every child to feel that way, to live in a world where innocence is not shattered by unimaginable tragedy. A world similar to what I remember, where I could ride my bike on our county road to my friend’s house two miles away and no one worried because the neighbors in the four houses along the way had known both of us since we were born. They would be on the look-out for our safety, not looking to do us harm.

I wish no child had to worry about meth houses next door, abuse or being shot in random acts of violence. But the truth is, the world has never been as idealistic as my fifth grade self remembers it. Cruelty and exploitation have always existed even if I was shielded from it when I was young.

Likewise, faulty theology would have us believe God has somehow abandoned schoolchildren or looks unfavorably on our country because outward displays of religion and, allegedly God himself, are not “welcome” in certain places. Well, here’s something else I learned as a child: God is everywhere. We will not be saved from every evil, or delivered from all loss and grief, but he has promised to never leave us or forsake us. He grieves with us, his spirit is waiting to bring us comfort.

If the test of God’s love and protection is that there is no destruction where he is welcome, then our men and women in the military would never see harm and everyone in hospitals would walk out whole and healthy, because I assure you prayers abound in “foxholes” and intensive care units.

As we grieve as a country for the loss of life in Connecticut, some are asking why God seemed to be absent there. I do not pretend to have all the answers, but I have a thought and it brings us back to Longfellow. A century and a half ago he penned a poem during another time of mourning in our nation's history. Not only had he recently suffered personal tragedy but the Civil War was raging on with all its horrors and bloodshed. This, I would add, despite teacher-led prayers and an abundance of Bibles and other outward displays of religion in schoolhouses throughout the land.

Later set to music by composer Jean Baptiste Calkin in 1872, Longfellow’s poem is now a familiar Christmas carol, “I heard the bells on Christmas Day.” Here is the original poem:

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

Their old, familiar carols play,

and wild and sweet

The words repeat

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along

The unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,

The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime,

A chant sublime

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth

The cannon thundered in the South,

And with the sound

The carols drowned

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent

The hearth-stones of a continent,

And made forlorn

The households born

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;

"There is no peace on earth," I said;

"For hate is strong,

And mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;

The Wrong shall fail,

The Right prevail,

With peace on earth, good-will to men."

As we prepare to celebrate the birth of Christ, we must not despair at what we see and hear in the world. Let us all do our part to raise up children of faith and not depend on others to do it. Show young people how to be generous and giving. Don’t plant seeds of fear in their young minds so that they become afraid of living. Take time to point out the beauty of art and the wonder of nature. Don’t look for danger to be lurking around every corner. Be always hopeful in your own heart.

Take comfort in knowing that peace and goodwill can prevail. God has provided the Way through the teachings of Jesus for society to be transformed. We must show we have the will to live according to his word because it is up to us to change the world.

What Are We Teaching Children?

Some readers of my Sunday blog know usually it is a re-post (or close to it) of what I write for the West Plains Daily Quill's religion page on Friday. What appeared on the religion page on December 14 was written before the events at Sandy Hook Elementary School. In the midst of everything else going on Friday, I did not think to try to update or change what I had written. It ran as written before 9 a.m. I read it now with a different perspective than when I wrote it, but I'm glad I didn't try to change it. I will not be part of stealing a bright future from my grandchildren. I am still hopeful. I will not allow the actions of a mad man to steal my faith. We cannot let him, and others like him, win.

 

On Thursday I had occasion to interact briefly with pre-schoolers who were getting ready for "Miss Pam" Coffman's annual Little Red Firehouse Christmas program. Every December Pam teaches the kids at her daycare center a few holiday songs which they perform for their parents and grandparents at the Avenue Theatre. I had to smile as they talked to me, speaking excitedly about the imminent arrival of Santa Claus. (Somehow, Pam always makes arrangements to have him stop by the show.) The tiny girls twirled in their new dresses, touching the pretty bows in their hair. Some of the boys proudly showed off their new boots or sweaters.

A little later in the evening, I attended Glenwood School's Christmas program to listen to the students sing songs of the season. My grandson's class sang about hot chocolate, and then they threw marshmallows out to the audience. Great fun. It was difficult not to get teary-eyed about another song of the evening,  "Welcome Christmas," when the kids clasped hands and sang, "While we stand heart to heart and hand in hand." I always tend to be hopeful about the future when I'm privileged to spend time with kids.

But it doesn't take long to get snapped back to a different reality: the non-stop chatter amongst adults about the "fiscal cliff," talk of ancient calendars or a headline for an Internet news story "4 in 10 Americans Believe Severe Weather Evidence of End Times." I don't know when the world or anything else is going to end, but I'm sad and angry for how society -- that's us, you know, all of us -- is stealing hope from our children every day. It's one thing when we want to get ourselves all worked up talking about the horrible state of things, but I think we forget sometimes that little kids and young people hear everything we say. They take it in and think about it. They get upset and worried about what might happen. They would probably like to look to adults for answers to hard questions, but how could they get a word in when we're complaining so much?

If I could have just one Christmas wish, it would be for all of us to keep a close watch on our words. Let's not steal hope for the future. Let's not make young people doubt their faith. Let's allow our children to be happy and blessed. Remember Jesus as an infant and the great love and care his mother bestowed upon him. Let's protect our children now in the same way. Doesn't that seem like the real reason for the season?

The Cliff and The Least of These

I've been thinking about the fiscal cliff, especially as it might relate to my novel "The Least of These." I finished writing this book thirteen years ago. It was published in 2008. What I used as a main plot point, the economic collapse of the U.S., seemed unlikely at the time. But now I'm feeling like it's more than a little prophetic. The premise is this: at some point in the (not-too-distant) future as the federal government is facing bankruptcy, the "Public Assistance Reform Act" is enacted. Here's an excerpt from the book:

"There were, of course, a multitude of reasons for the crash of the economy...For too many years, as political partisanship ran rampart, there had been no long-term planning within the federal government. Sustained periods of economic growth seemed to foster a sense of invincibility and a mood of reckless optimism about the country's future. Slight downturns were never viewed as trends....but other factors were also at work.

"The protracted war on terror had dragged on for many years in an attempt to make the world a safer place, and it resulted in varying degrees of success. But whatever limited success achieved around the world came with an unimaginably enormous price tag--one that left the United States buried deep in devastating debt.

"An unprecedented number of deadly and phenomenally costly natural disasters, hurricanes, floods, drought, earthquakes, tornadoes, had pounded North America unmercilessly for several years in a row. County after county in state after state had been declared federal disaster areas, and emergency money from public funds had been poured into the affected areas.

"....Continuing high unemployment brought about by a sustained downturn in the economy not only contributed to the demise of Social Security, but had also overloaded an already faltering welfare system that had been on its way out for many years....

"Finally, the longstanding and ongoing habit of appropriating tens of billions of dollars for all kinds of programs and projects without ensuring there was a source for those funds had quite conclusively caught up with the federal government. A very simple yet significant principle emerged and soaked in; there was no more money to spend...."

This is an over-simplified commentary on what might cause financial disaster, but that's because government bankruptcy is not the main focus of the novel. The main focus is what happens next, and in my rather optimistic view (in the context of the book), the outcome is good. Churches, businesses, individuals work together to change society. The full meaning of the teachings of Jesus and his call to minister to "the least of these" is recognized and implemented.

I've never been particularly good at promoting this book, but now is the time for our country to hear a message like this, whether it's mine or someone else's. If you're looking for a Christmas gift for someone who is interested in current events, but would also like to read an optimistic story of faith and hope, I encourage you to buy "The Least of These." It's available all over the place online (amazon, etc.). It's discounted on Christianbook.com. 

What's waiting for us beyond the edge of the cliff? Maybe it's the best thing that could ever happen to society.
 

God and Common Sense

The following is from "My Utmost for His Highest." These were thoughts shared by Oswald Chambers 100 years ago while he was lecturing at the Bible Training College in Claphim, England. 

"At the beginning of our Christian life we are full of requests to God. But then we find that God wants to get us into an intimate relationship with Himself -- to get us in touch with His purposes. Are we so intimately united to Jesus Christ's idea of prayer -- 'Your will be done' (Matt. 6:10) -- that we catch the secrets of God? What makes God so dear to us is not so much His big blessings to us, but the tiny things, because they show His amazing intimacy with us -- He knows every detail of each of our individual lives.

"At first, we want the awareness of being guided by God. But then as we grow spiritually, we live so fully aware of God that we do not even need to ask what His will is, because the thought of choosing another way will never occur to us....God guides us by our everyday choices. And if we are about to choose what He does not want, He will give us a sense of doubt or restraint, which we must heed....God guides our common sense."

The words of Chambers seem fresh and relevant to me even though I have read them many times over the years, and I join him in believing God guides our common sense, but I would add that we have to allow Him to do so. While faith is central to any religion, if common sense is not a factor in our lives, our faith can cause heartache, for ourselves and others. Treating God as though He is some kind of magic genie in a bottle waiting to grant us our every desire is a mistake. Our goal should be to see the bigger picture of how our lives and our desires are connected to the needs of others.

Faith must be cultivated and so must common sense. We should take the time to build an intimate relationship with God, learning to balance matters of the soul, (our emotions, will, feelings, and mind) with matters of the spirit. God will guide our choices, but we can’t skip the step of getting to know Him, seeking to know His will and learning to recognize His work in the smallest of details.

What's my motivation?

Not long ago my daughter and I were having one of our many conversations about life/religion/philosophy/the state of the world. The topic, I don't remember the specifics, was something I had blogged about and shared in my column in the West Plains Daily Quill. She said, "Why do you write your column and your blog? Is it because you like it when people tell you how much they enjoy reading what you've written?" (She and I like to keep each other on our toes. We're a family who tries to make sure no one "gets the big head," as my mother would say.) 

Her question is a good one. I struggled a bit with the answer. I don't think I write because I like to get the occasional pat on the back. It is nice to be complimented, and I appreciate encouraging words, but if "atta girl" is all I'm looking for, I would stick to warm and fuzzy stuff because we all like that sort of thing. 

Why do any of us share our thoughts and views, especially about religion? Is it because we believe our opinion is the right one? Do we think we know better than everyone else? In my case, am I trying to change anyone's mind about God and matters of faith? Do I think I have a corner on the market when it comes to The Way? 

When I walked into the Quill office over five years ago and asked city editor Carol Bruce if she would be interested in a weekly column I was willing to write for free for the religion page, I remember the frustration I was feeling with the mixing of God and politics in our country, with the way the name of Jesus was being used to justify all kinds of nonsense. I also remember how discouraged I was with the church situation I was in at the time. Allen and I were more or less forcing ourselves to attend Sunday morning services because it was a tradition, an obligation, a habit. We weren't getting anything out of it, and in fact, would leave feeling worse than when we arrived. I know, I know, local friends, YOUR church isn't like that, and I know we're welcome there any time. 

I will admit the church we were attending was pretty messed up, but, in general, I was worn down by years of hearing the same thing over and over again from the pulpit. In the church tradition I come from, it was the prosperity principle for a while and of course, an endless stream of altar calls. Where was the message of unconditional love? Why weren't we expending more resources to help the hurting? Sometimes I wondered if anyone going to church was even bothering to read the New Testament. I guess when it comes right down to it, I thought Jesus was getting a bad rap by those claiming to represent him. There are exceptions to that generalization, of course, and I think (I hope) the religious climate is changing, although I would be hard-pressed to prove it by the religious mudslinging so prevalent in the political realm.
  
My take on the message of Jesus is why I wrote my novel, "The Least of These." It's why I continue to comment on matters of religion. If nothing else, I write to remind MYSELF to be better, to love and forgive more, to judge less. When I make my views public, I feel an obligation to be consistent. I'm certainly not perfect, but I try not to be a hypocrite. 

Even though one of my ongoing claims is that Jesus is capable of taking care of himself, and he really doesn't need anyone's help, I suppose I feel like I'm defending his reputation with my words. Funny, isn't it? I know that's what everyone expressing a religious view which is in opposition to mine thinks, too. Why do I blog? What's the point of this one, in particular? Who knows? Might as well ask, what's the meaning of life? I'm on a constant quest for answers, a search for truth, I suppose. Thanks for going along on the journey.  

Gathering us in

The compassion of Jesus is beyond measure, even toward those who would be the ones to do him harm. In Luke 13:34, Jesus said, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.” He knew the ones he was addressing were behaving in ways which were not productive. Behaving in ways, in fact, which were destructive and bringing them misery, not joy, and he wanted to save them from themselves by gathering them in, protecting them.

I’ve been thinking about the upcoming holiday season in that light, wondering if Jesus would say to many of us something along the lines of, “You who are stressed out, worried about the mountain of gifts you’re planning to buy and the money you’re going to spend, the way you’re going to eat and how your schedule doesn’t have a spare moment, how I long to gather you to myself and remind you of the simple Way I have called you to live. I hope you are willing to let me gather you to myself to bring you peace.”

That’s imagined, of course, but there’s even something about the often loud way Christians try to convince others that Jesus is the reason for the season -- boycotting stores whose employees merely say 'happy holidays,' demanding Christmas trees and nativity scenes be on display everywhere, for example -- that doesn’t ring true with the larger message he proclaimed.

I wonder if Jesus is interested in being the reason for a season which is now officially beginning by big corporations asking employees to work on Thanksgiving to accommodate shoppers who want to get an early start on "black Friday." Doesn't it sees as though calming down around this time of year might be in order? 

In Luke chapter 1, there's a beautiful scripture which is part of Zacharias's prophecy regarding Jesus, "Because of the tender mercy of our God, with which the Sunrise from on high will visit us...to guide our feet into the way of peace." (v. 78-79) Jesus can take care of himself and us, and wants to gather us to him. So what do you say? Let's relax and let his mercy and peace reign during the holidays and in every season.