Sermon Preached at New Life Presbyterian Church, Omaha, Ne

June 30, 2013

2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14

Galatians 5:1, 13-25

I found a story on the Internet this week about a famous preacher who was a bit of a fraud, because the sermons were great but no one ever realized that in fact they’d all been written by the staff assistant. Finally the assistant’s patience ran out, and one day the preacher was speaking to thousands of expectant listeners and at the bottom of page two read the stirring words, “And this, my friends, takes us to the very heart of the book of Habakkuk, which is…” only to turn to page three and see nothing but the dreaded words, “You’re on your own now.”

Those are dreaded words, aren’t they?  You are on your own now.  I am getting to a stage in my life when more and more I notice that I am on my own now.   In the four plus years since I lost my mother, I have thought of countless times when I have wanted to tell her something or ask her advice about something.  But, I am on my own now.

In the past month I have attended the funerals of two men, both World War II vets, both in their nineties.  One was my mother’s cousin’s husband, the other, Rev. Howard Svoboda, a member of this Presbytery, his daughter Beth, a member of Benson Church is a very dear friend of mine and has been for many years, since we were both teenagers.  More and more as the people who were my adults pass away; I realize we are the adults now.  We are on our own now.

That’s how Elisha must have felt when he realized that Elijah was about to leave him.   When Elijah the prophet fled for his life from the murderous Queen Jezebel, he went to the Horeb, also called Sinai, the mountain of God, the mountain where Moses encountered God and received the law of God.  There, Elijah received his marching orders, to anoint two new kings, one for Syria and one for Israel and also, to anoint his own successor, Elisha.

Elijah found Elisha working in his parent’s field, plowing with twelve oxen.  Elijah threw his mantle over Elisha.   Elisha ran after Elijah and said, “Before we go, let me kiss my mother and father goodbye!”   Elijah replied, “If you’re coming, let’s go, If not, goodbye yourself.”  So Elisha made an over the top gesture to show that he was breaking off from his old life completely to show that he was following Elijah.   He slaughtered the twelve oxen, cooked them and gave the flesh to the people who happened to be around and they ate it.  Then he followed Elijah.   Presumably, this all took more time than it would have for Elisha to say goodbye to his parents, but it was an over the top gesture that proved the new disciple’s devotion to his master.   It becomes clear that Elisha is all about the over the top gesture.

Elisha displays another over the top gesture in our reading today.   The master, Elijah, asks his disciple and successor, Elisha, if there is one last thing that he can do for him.  Elisha makes a request, let me inherit a double portion of your spirit.  One commentator I read wrote that, “Elisha assumes that he is half the man Elijah is and that he will need twice his master’s spirit just to break even.” Endquote.   Elijah tells Elisha that he is asking for a hard thing, but if Elisha sees Elisha taken up, it will be granted.  The time comes and Elijah is bodily assumed from the earth by a whirlwind, in a chariot of fire.   And Elisha cried out, “Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!”    He had seen, he would inherit a double portion of his master’s spirit.  Then he tore his clothes with grief.

But, there was much work now ahead for Elisha.   He picked up Elijah’s mantle where it had fallen and he used it, just has Elijah had to part a river so he could cross, cross back to the path that he had been called to by God.

I mentioned earlier that I had recently attended the memorial service for Howard Svoboda.   It was a service that was very fitting for someone who had served God’s church so long and so faithfully.   The Presbytery was well represented; everyone from the retired pastors to the active pastors, including Dwight Williams, your session moderator.   The service was led by the honorably retired Keith Cook, for many years pastor of Church of the Master.   Keith is a genuine character and also presided at my mother’s memorial service at her request.  Actually her command, she said to Keith one day, “You know you are doing my funeral!”  Mom was a bit of a character too.

Keith had meant to bring his robe to wear at the service, but he had forgotten it.  But Howard’s family had brought his robe to be displayed along with pictures and other items from Howard’s life.  So it was agreed, Keith should wear Howard’s robe at the service.

I thought of that this week when I read about Elisha taking up Elijah’s mantle.   In a way, it is our job to take of the mantle of the previous generation, to wear the robes that are left to us.  

Howard, like my parents and maybe your parents or grandparents or maybe you yourself was a member of what we now call the greatest generation.  They struggled through the Great Depression, they fought and won World War II and then went on to see the expansion of the American dream through economic prosperity and the Civil Rights movement, the women’s movement and even the advancement of rights for gay and lesbian people.    I often fear that our generation has not inherited a double portion of their spirit.

My father was drafted into the army in 1942.  He and my mother had just had their first baby, my brother Tom.    Pop never made it overseas, he served only 90 days in the Army.   He caught influenza and it was discovered that he had a heart murmur that made him unfit for service, so he received a medical discharge.  He spent the remainder of the war, working in the bomber plant in Lincoln.

I asked Pop towards the end of his life what it was like.  He hadn’t been married that long, he had a new baby; he didn’t know that he wouldn’t have to go overseas.   What did he think?  How did he feel?  Pop just shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Everybody was in the same boat.”

If there is one attitude that is lacking in our world today, it is that we are all in the same boat.  We live in time that is far too divisive.   In America today, we are far more likely to think of our society as us and them.  We know what this has led to:  political gridlock and a society where the advancement of civil rights for one group is seen as an affront to another group.  Please believe me, I do not intend to sugar coat that greatest generation, they also lived with segregation, sexism and other ills that we would not tolerate today.  But yet, we need to come to the realization that we are all in the same boat.  I don’t want us to go through another Great Depression or fight another World War to realize it.

Paul wrote to the church in Galatia that they should avoid the works of the flesh.  Fornication, impurity, licentiousness, 20idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, 21envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these. He didn’t write this to the Galatians because everything was going well there.  He wrote this to them because they were fighting.  In fact, he warns them to be careful of biting at each other, lest they devour each other.  The church at Galatia was made up of both Jews, who had been circumcised and Gentiles who had not been circumcised.   Some of the Jews thought than when the Gentiles joined the church, they should be circumcised.   But Paul points out that in Christ, circumcision does not matter.  Paul writes, “The only thing that matters is faith working through love.” 

Paul goes on to write, what the fruits of the Spirit are.  And it is all good:  Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.   This is what the Galatians and we are to strive for, the good things of faith working through love.  We are to realize that no matter where we come from, what color our skin is, what shape our families take, we are all in the same boat.

The thing about taking up a mantle is that we have to know what to take up and what to leave behind.   Leave behind the works of the flesh, the things that concentrate only on me and mine.  Go forward with the works of the Spirit.  Go out into the world with the mantle of service and love. 

Amen.

The Problem with Greed

The Problem with Greed
Sermon preached at Benson Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE, June 16, 2013
1 Kings 21:1-21

This is one of those times when we are reminded that the Bible would actually make a very good soap opera, or maybe just a tragic opera.   This story has everything:  Naboth, the noble and innocent farmer, Ahab, the pouting King, Jezebel, the ambitious, foreign and dishonest queen, Elijah, the prophet who brings the words of doom.  And let’s not forget, the character that never shows up in any soap opera, God, who sees every greedy act, every dishonest word.

The story starts with what seems like a reasonable offer from King Ahab, to Naboth.   Naboth owns a vineyard, that is right next to Ahab’s palace, in Samaria.   If remember your Biblical history, you will remember that after the death of King Solomon, the kingdom that David and Solomon divided into two different kingdoms, Judah, in the south, continued to be ruled by descendants of David and Solomon.   Israel, in the North, was ruled by a series of dynasties.    Ahab’s dynasty built a new capital city in Samaria, so his royal palace was literally built in the middle of farm fields, like much of West Omaha.  

So Ahab makes what seems to be a reasonable offer to Naboth, let me have your vineyard.   It’s right next to my palace and I need a vegetable garden, I need I’m tired of having to have my servants schlep to the market all the time.   I will treat you fairly, Naboth, I will give you an equally good, no, a better vineyard or if you prefer, I will give you money, name your price!  Now you or I might have one thought if the king came to us with an offer like this, “Ka-ching!  Time to cash in!”

But Naboth, was not someone motivated by money.  “The Lord forbid that I should give you my ancestral inheritance.”  My ancestral inheritance.  This plot of land had been worked by Naboth’s family going back for generations.    Samaria had been taken from the Assyrians during the time of King Solomon and had been given to the tribe of Joseph, so Naboth’s family had probably owned this vineyard since the time of the legendary king.   It had been cared for and worked by Naboth’s ancestors so that he might pass it on to his children and they to their children.

Have you ever heard a person from rural Nebraska or Iowa speak of the home place?   That place that had been in their family, where their grandparents and parents had worked and struggled to pass on a legacy, this vineyard was Naboth’s home place.    To Ahab, it was just a convenient plot of land.    To Naboth, it was like the king was asking him for his heart or his right arm.

So Ahab does what all too many of us do when he doesn’t get his way, he pouts.   He goes and lies on his bed and turns his face to the wall, he won’t eat.    That’s when Ahab’s wife, Jezebel, enters the picture.

Jezebel has picked up a bad reputation over the years; her name has become synonymous with a bad or fallen woman.   She deserves that reputation.  I don’t think that the women we have referred to as “Jezebels” throughout the centuries deserve the comparison, though.   Jezebel wasn’t a just a bad woman, she was a terrible, amoral person.   Jezebel was a foreign princess, the daughter of the King of Tyre.   She was used to kings taking what they wanted with no arguments.   Jezebel promoted the worship of Baal, a god who did not call for justice and righteousness, but a false god, who promoted prosperity and ambition.   Baal was created by Jezebel’s people in their own image, a god who rewarded tyranny and who despised the weak.

So Jezebel came to Ahab and said, why are you pouting?   And when she heard it was such a small thing, just Naboth, who denied the king, she a princess of Tyre would show Ahab how a real king worked.    “I will get you Naboth’s vineyard,” Jezebel promises her husband.

So Jezebel arranges for Naboth to be accused of cursing God and the King, she arranged for false witnesses, she arranged for Naboth to be drug outside the city and stoned and she arranged all this in King Ahab’s name using King Ahab’s seal.   Then she went to Ahab like a child with a good report card and said, “Look what I did!  Naboth’s vineyard is yours!”  So Ahab didn’t ask any questions, but he stopped pouting and started tearing up the centuries old vineyard so he could plant his vegetables.

Of course, God is not a false God and has seen everything that has transpired.    God sends Elijah the prophet to give Ahab his comeuppance.   Ahab knows why Elijah is there before he even opens his mouth, “Have you found me, my enemy?”  

God is not a false God and God is not a God who believes that greed and power are the best humanity has to offer.   God created us to act justly, to protect those less powerful than us, to not put our own needs above everyone else.  We are not to thoughtlessly benefit from the suffering of others, like Ahab did.  We are not to brutally ignore what is righteous in order to get what we want, like Jezebel did.  Elijah tells Ahab, “You have sold yourself to do what is evil in the sight of the Lord.”  In sinning against Naboth, Ahab has sinned against God.  That’s the problem with greed, it’s not just a sin against the person our greed hurts; it is a sin against God.

So what does that mean for you and for me?  I’m certainly not an ambitious queen, not one of you is a powerful king.    Not one of us is ever going to be in position to bear false witness against someone so that we can steal their ancestral land for our own private garden.

And yet, I cannot ignore that I live so much better than most people on this planet.   I don’t make a lot of money right now and I share an apartment with my brother, but I’m not living in a mud hut or tenement or a homeless shelter.    I get good medical care when I need it and I have plenty of nutritious food to eat.  Something I have to face as an American, as a member of the most privileged society in the history of the world, there are others who suffer to keep me going.

I wrote this sermon at a Starbucks.   One thing I don’t have at my current home is a desk, so I like to go to Starbucks to work.   For about four bucks worth of coffee, I get two or three hours of electricity and Wi-Fi.  (Wi-Fi being necessary to look up things like when Solomon conquered Samaria!)

But, what about the people who grew and picked the coffee beans?   Were they paid fairly?   Do they have good health coverage?  What about the people who waited on me?   I saw a story on CNN recently that Starbucks baristas have to share their tips with their managers.   Is that fair?  

It’s not just coffee, the produce we eat and enjoy is grown in far off places and harvested by people who are poorly paid and then shipped tremendous distances so you and I can enjoy fresh orange juice or fresh strawberries or bananas.   One commentator I read this week wondered if we as Americans are turning the whole world into our personal vegetable garden?

What about the clothes on our backs?  I looked at the label of the Wal-Mart shirt I had on when I was writing this, it was made in Honduras.   My Old Navy pants were made in Vietnam.    What kind of conditions are people working under so I can have cheap clothes?    Listen to this report from the BBC about conditions in Bangladesh.  “Two months after the collapse of a factory in Bangladesh, new building inspections have revealed that six out of every 10 factories there are unsafe.  More than 1,000 people were killed when pillars supporting the Rana Plaza factory building gave way.  Most of the clothing produced in Bangladesh is sold in Europe and the US but, factories that have been declared unsafe are still full of workers.”  End quote.   I like a cheap shirt as much as the next girl, but is it worth the blood of others?

It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?   I don’t know about you, but I feel powerless in the face of all this.   But you know what, alone, I am powerless.  But as a Christian, trying to live in God’s justice, as part of a worshiping community that tries to live in God’s justice, I am not powerless.   As Christians, it is our responsibility to live intentionally and to call this wider community we live in to live intentionally.  It is our responsibility to call this society we live in to justice, to see the rest of the world not as our garden to be exploited, but the home of our brothers and sisters, equally entitled to God’s justice.

A funny thing about Ahab:  after Elijah threatened him with disaster, Ahab repented.   He didn’t do this because he was sorry; he did this because he was scared.  He put on sackcloth and went about dejectedly.   A funny thing about God:  God forgave Ahab.  God said to Elijah, “have you seen how Ahab has humbled himself before me?   Because he has done this, I will not bring disaster upon him, but will bring it upon his sons.”   Ahab was allowed to die honorably in battle, but Jezebel and her sons by Ahab died very gruesomely.   You can read all about it in 2 Kings 9 and 10 if you like, I wouldn’t recommend it if you have a nervous disposition.

That’s the problem with greed; God doesn’t like it, not one bit.   That’s the problem with injustice, false witness, unbridled tyranny; God doesn’t like it, not one bit.   But the amazing thing about God is that there is forgiveness, even for Ahab.  Even for you and for me.

Amen.

My statement in support of 10-A,

What I Said at the Revolution, My statement in support of 10-A, Presbytery of Central Nebraska, February 26, 2011.

(Approximate, I did not speak from a written text)

Mr. Moderator, I speak for the amendment.

I think everyone here knows that I have my past year has been very interesting.

I have learned three things in the course of this last year.

First, I have learned that I am richly blessed in my family and friends, some of those friends are in this room today.   They have supported me with love and prayers and actions.

Second, I believe that God is teaching me humility.  In my arrogance, I looked down on two things in this world, one is preachers who got in trouble; the other is the Big Ten.

Third, I have learned for the first time in my life, what it is to put your heart and soul into something and then to be told it is not good enough.  Anyone who knows me knows that I have lived my life up to know as an adored daughter of the church.  This is the first time I have known this kind of rejection.  As painful as this has been, it has made me think.

My gay and lesbian brothers and sisters in Christ feel this kind of rejection every day of their entire lives.  They are told they are not good enough just because of who they are.   They are friends, classmates and colleagues.  I graduated from seminary in 1991.  I know people who were at seminary with me who are still waiting for ordination today.

Mr. Moderator, it is time to bring our sons and daughters home.  We need to approve this amendment for justice.  We need to approve this amendment to stand against the violence in this country.  We need to approve this amendment because these sons and daughters just may be the spark of revitalization our denomination needs.

The Lovely Light

This is the text of a sermon I preached on January 16, 2011 at Community Presbyterian Church in Waldport, Oregon.   Great thanks to Kate Huey of the UCC "Weekly Seeds" blog for her thoughts and for that wonderful Madeleine L'Engle quote.

Isaiah 49:1-7

John 1:29-42

The American humorist Oliver Hereford once said, “Many are called but few get up.”  Today we heard about people who are not only called, they actually got up. First hear about the baptism of Jesus from John the Baptist, who tells the story of his own experience to his disciples, describing the presence of the Holy Spirit coming down from on high like a dove.  The next day when he sees Jesus again, he again announces this title for Jesus, “The Lamb of God” a title that comes straight out of the turbulent history of the Jewish people, a lamb that atones for the sins of the people. So these disciples of John decide to check out this Jesus guy.

So they go and Jesus asks them what they are looking for.  So they ask Jesus, where he lives.  It is almost like that game where you have to keep asking questions and the first one to make a statement loses.  Jesus is the first one to make a statement, so I guess he loses.

The answer Jesus gives is also no argument, no harangue, just something we should say a lot more when we are touting our mission, our churches: "Come and see."

Jesus is on to something.  He makes this simple invitation, come and see. 
Come and see not my house, but how I live.   He asks these two friends of John the Baptist to become his friends now. 

The great Christian writer Madeleine L'Engle said this, “We do not draw people to Christ by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.”

I think L’Engle has a point.  Too often we try to harass or scare people into Christian faith.  Visions of hellfire and brimstone fill so much of Christian evangelism.  Instead we need to be that source of L’Engle’s lovely light, the light of Christ shining through our lives.

Just a few minutes ago, we sang the praise song, “Shine, Jesus, Shine.”  I was struck by how well the last verse said what I am trying to say to you now:

“As we gaze on Your kindly brightness.

So our faces display Your likeness.
Ever changing from glory to glory,
Mirrored here may our lives tell Your story.”

We think it is difficult to be that source of lovely light.  We don’t know where to start or how or we think that we need a revelation like John the Baptist had, a dove descending from the open skies.  It doesn’t work that way for most of us.  For most of us, showing the light of Christ in our lives is a journey, one foot in front of the other, praying, studying, worshiping, ministering as the lovely light grows stronger and stronger in us every day.  And you know what?  That was the journey for Andrew and Peter and all those others who have responded to the call of Jesus.

I’ve been thinking about that lovely light this week as our country has mourned and tried to make sense of the awful events of a week ago yesterday in Tucson, Arizona.  Those who died, from nine year old Christina Taylor Green to the older people including Presbyterian Phyllis Schenck and Dorwin Stoddard, a pillar of the Church of Christ, who put his body between the gunman and his beloved wife, to Judge John Roll were people who were committed to making their community a better place, who tried to shed some light in the world.  They lived lives that were not glamorous or famous, but lives that shed light in the world.  The same is true for Congresswoman Giffords, for young Daniel Hernandez who saved her life, for Roger Salzgeber, Bill Badger, and Patricia Maisch who disarmed the gunman, the first responders, the police and the EMTs, all good people who tried to do the right thing and in doing so, became sources of light. 

As President Obama said so movingly this week at the Memorial Service, “These men and women remind us that heroism is found not only on the fields of battle.  They remind us that heroism does not require special training or physical strength.  Heroism is here, in the hearts of so many of our fellow citizens, all around us, just waiting to be summoned -– as it was on Saturday morning.”

The President went on to say, “The loss of these wonderful people should make every one of us strive to be better.  To be better in our private lives, to be better friends and neighbors and coworkers and parents.  And if, as has been discussed in recent days, their death helps usher in more civility in our public discourse, let us remember it is not because a simple lack of civility caused this tragedy -- it did not -- but rather because only a more civil and honest public discourse can help us face up to the challenges of our nation in a way that would make them proud.”

That is very much what it is like for us, disciples of Christ, ordinary Presbyterians who go to churches, work at our jobs, volunteer in our communities.   In doing so, we make our lives a memorial to the living Christ.  We must seek to make our lives more Christly every day in a way that would, for lack of a better term, make Jesus proud.  What would Jesus do cannot just be a slogan for a bumper sticker, it must be the model for our lives.

Sounds daunting, doesn’t it.  There is old saying, God doesn't call the qualified; God qualifies the called.  When God calls us to service and work, God equips us as well.

These two disciples of John came and saw Jesus and one of them, Andrew, went and found his brother, Simon and brought him to meet this new source of God’s light.  Jesus looked at Simon and gave him a new name, Cephas, Peter or in our language, Rock.

Peter’s future with Jesus was rocky indeed, even denying Jesus when Jesus faced the cross.  But this Rock would be equipped by God to go out, and just as his brother Andrew carried the good news to him, Peter carried it out into the wider world.

So tend your own lovely light, a light that will shine the love of God through you, God’s own unique creation.  So others will come to the light and the story will go on and on.

Amen.

Shoot

Shoot

I apologize for not blogging sooner.  Those of you who keep up with me on Facebook are aware of my brother Tom’s long and continuing recovery from a fall.  I’ve also been distracted by my job search and the hurly burly and travel of the holiday season.  I’m still in Lincoln City, OR but plan to return to Omaha at the end of the month so I can find a job before my severance ends.

The events of this week have caused me to take up my pen (laptop?) once again.

This post was heavily influenced by Rev. Victoria Weinstein’s sermon from this morning, http://tinyurl.com/2bzrool and by Keith Olbermann’s special comment from last night, http://tinyurl.com/39644hk

But this post is dedicated to my friend Joan Brubaker, not only for being a sane and wise voice in this world, but for nudging me until I started blogging again.

Shoot

This week I was getting a cut and color at the place I am supposed to relax, the salon.  I was relaxing, reading my Tweets while the talented Jeremy worked on my hair.  Suddenly, I felt that dreadful iciness in the pit of my stomach as a read these words from someone in Omaha:  “Millard South shooter still at large.

Millard South?  As in the school just two miles away from where my brother and his family live and two miles away from Millard West where my nephew Bob is a junior?  Millard South? Nice school in the suburbs that counts Heisman trophy winner Eric Crouch among the alumni?  Millard South?

First thoughts:  Is Bob safe?  Were other schools involved?  How many wounded or killed?  What the hell has happened in Omaha? 

I was quickly able to contact Bob through text messages, yes, he was fine, his school, along with all the Millard Schools, were in lockdown.  It was scary, but he was never at risk.

I also learned the details as everyone else did. A 17 year old senior Robert Butler, Jr., the son of an Omaha Police officer, took his father’s gun and fatally shot the vice-principal, Vicki Kaspar and seriously wounded the principal, Craig Case.   Butler was found dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound inside his car in a parking lot about a mile from the school by Omaha police 45 minutes after the attack at the school.  Butler had been suspended by Dr. Kaspar that morning for driving on the football field during the Christmas break.  Both Dr. Case and Dr. Kaspar sound like the kind of educators we can’t afford to lose, utterly dedicated to their students.

While Omahans near and far were mourning and trying to make sense out of senselessness, another shooting grabbed the entire nation’s attention.  Yesterday, Congresswoman Gabrielle Gifford was shot in Tucson, Arizona at a “Congress on Your Corner” event at a Safeway along with 19 others.  Gifford is fighting for her life at a Tucson hospital.  Six other were killed including Federal Judge John Roll and Christine Taylor Green, 9 years old.  Christine, who had just been elected to her school’s student council, was interested in politics, went to event with a neighbor.  Link to a Washington Post blog that details the lives of the six who were murdered: http://tinyurl.com/2ch94mt Everyone of them, someone we can’t afford to lose.  The shooter, Jared Lee Loughner, 22 displayed a troubled history with rambling and incoherent posts to the Internet warning of “mind control.”  Documents were found in Loughner’s home in which he claimed his “assassination” of Giffords.

What can we learn from this circle of sin and misery and death?  What have we ever learned?  In the sermon I linked to above, we are called as people of faith to speak out oon these issues.  Here is what my poor thoughts are.

First, we have to stop stigmatizing mental illness and its treatment in this country.  The shooters in these cases were both kids from nice suburbs.  Butler apparently showed few signs of trouble other than vandalizing the football field.   That seems more like a teenage prank than an indicator of anti-social behavior.  (Full disclosure:  When I was in college, I vandalized a golf green after a few too many.  I have never shot or attacked anyone, but I was never found out, either.)

Loughner, however exhibited numerous signs of trouble, including paranoid ramblings on the Internet and troubling behavior and statements in his college classes.

Would either of these tragedies have been avoided if either young man had received help?  I don’t know.  The problem is we may never know.

Second, we must stop using violent rhetoric in all political discourse.  “Don’t retreat, reload” “Second Amendment remedies” and putting bull’s-eyes or target sights on top of political districts or politicians faces.  This kind of rhetoric, wherever it is found on the political spectrum needs to be unacceptable.  (See Keith Olbermann’s special comment on this, above.)  We cannot or and we should not try to regulate free speech, but we as individuals and as a society must repudiate and politely correct those who violate this standard.  It cannot be a law; it must be a standard of human decency.  Did violent rhetoric contribute to either of these tragedies?  I don’t know.  The problem is we may never know.

Third, we must do something about guns in our society.  79 Americans die every day from gun violence.  That is 13 Tucson shootings, every day!   In 1998, 3,792 American children and teens (19 and under) died by gunfire in murders, suicides and unintentional shootings. That's more than 10 young people a day.  That is a Columbine every two days!     We don’t notice these shootings because they come in single spies, not in battalions.  We need to start paying attention because it has to stop.  In my home town of Omaha, 44 people were murdered in 2008, the last year that statistics are available for from the Omaha Police department.  May of these were victims of gang violence including drive by shootings in Hispanic or African American neighborhoods, noted by the local media, but becoming a run of the mill occurrence in Omaha and in other communities.

Humorist Andy Borowitz posted to Twitter today, “I make the modest proposal that it should be harder to get a gun than a Facebook account.”  I would make a less modest proposal that it should be as hard to own and operate a gun as it is to own and operate a car.  You cannot drive a car in this country without passing a test to prove you know how to use it safely.  You cannot drive a car in this country unless you carry liability insurance to protect those you may injure with that car.  Right now, through the “gun show” loophole anyone can go to a gun show and buy a gun without a background check.  People who own guns in homes with children should be required to keep those weapons in a gun safe or use a trigger lock.   Robert Butler, the son of an Omaha police officer, took his father’s service weapon from an unlocked closet in the forty minutes his father was out of the house.  According to an anonymous Arizona law enforcement source, it seems that Jared Loughner purchased his gun legally.  Would tighter gun regulations including gun locks have stopped Loughner or Butler.  I don’t know.  The problem is we may never know.  Would it stop future tragedies?  I sincerely believe it would.

Finally, the small piece of hope from these events:  There are always more heroes than villains.  Hundreds of doctors, nurses, EMT’s and medical professionals used all their skill to try and save the victims of these shootings.  Loughner probably would have killed many more if a wounded woman grabbed his magazine as he tried to reload.  His next magazine failed and he was tackled by two other men who subdued him until police were on the scene.  Daniel Hernandez, a twenty year old intern with Giffords, ran toward the bullets when the shooting started and staunched her wounds, elevated her head so she could breath, and kept talking to her.  Dorwin Stoddard, killed in Tucson, blocked the gunfire with his body, saving his the life of his beloved wife.  Thousands have and will continue to gather at memorial services, vigils and prayer services.  Millions more have and will mourn and offer prayers and condolences and will observe the national moment of silence tomorrow.

Perhaps, these people are the people we should be celebrating instead of the actors and athletes, socialites and loudmouths we usually celebrate in this country.  Perhaps we can’t do it nationally, but we certainly could start noticing, thanking and celebrating the people in our communities who can and do make a difference, who make our lives better through their vocations and avocations. 

Would it make a difference in these shootings?  Probably wouldn’t have.  Could it make a difference in our world if we start today?  Oh yes.

Blessings,

Cindy

I have used numerous news sources including AOL News, Omaha.com, MSNBC, CNN, ABC News, The Washington Post, The New York Times and Huffington Post.  Handgun statistics come from StopHandgunViolence.com and the Omaha Police Department.

Physical

Been working out at the nicely equipped Lincoln City Community Center.  Also getting physical therapy 2-3 times per week.  It is amazing to me how much relief I am feeling in my back after just a handful of sessions.   My therapist is using a kind of heated ultra sound on my problem spot.  She also has me doing some stretches that seem to help.  She's a really nice young woman but I find myself wondering when I got so much older than every medical professional I'm seeing.

The community center just bought a seated stair stepper, which is what I used to lose all that weight back in New York State.  It is a piece of equipment that can be used by people who have limited mobility, but it is actually a good workout for anyone. 

I went to a gym in Watkins Glen that was owned by Barb, a member of the Hector church.   She was a fabulous trainer and did her work for love of fitness, not for money.  She was given the stair stepper after the death of Father Dave, the former priest at the Watkins Glen Catholic church.  He had severe diabetes which contributed to his death.  Barb kept one of the mass cards from Father Dave's funeral taped to the wall by the machine. 

Dave had been a good colleague.   He had a lot of complications from his diabetes, including partial blindness  We did a wedding together of a Presbyterian groom and a Catholic bride.  The bride also had a Franciscan priest who she knew in college in Chicago.  When Dave got the exchange of peace, he turned to who he thought were the bride and groom and said that at this point, they may kiss.  But it wasn't the bride and groom, it was me and the Franciscan priest.  While everyone laughed, we shrugged and looked at each other with that "Why not?" look.

It has always struck me that my friend dying brought a piece of equipment to me that helped me to be healthier.   Life and death are intertwined in ways that we cannot comprehend.   Surely that is something that we all believe as Christians.

Working out, cardio, weights and floor work for core and cool down, always leaves me with quite the endorphin rush.  I often think of a line from my favorite movie, "The Empire Strikes Back".   "I feel like I could take on the whole Empire myself."  Somewhere, between the last illness and death of my mother and the stress I had on the job, I let go of going to the gym.  My fall in August 2009 also slowed me down. 

Now that I'm back to working out, I think I turned a lot of my anger and stress and grief in on myself.  Taking care of myself ceased to be an option.  It's a real danger for many people, especially for women. I thought I was beyond that danger, but I wasn't.  So now I am learning to care for myself again.

Self care doesn't mean self centered.  The opposite of self care is self destruction. 

My physical therapist has pointed out that I've been walking around hunched over.    Apparently I've been doing that for some time now.    She's got me working on standing up straight when I walk.   It feels unnatural right now.  I feel like I'm John Cleese in that old Python sketch, "Ministry of Silly Walks", but I'm told it looks better.

Stand up straight, raise your head, shoulders back, walk.   Simplest thing in the world. 

God, who walked among us, grant that we may all learn to walk in your way with strength and with peace.   Amen.

blessings,

Cindy

Random Thoughts

Old men in Oregon are just adorable.  When I pulled up to a crosswalk today, there was an older gentleman walking who I waved to go ahead.  He stopped in front of my car, trying to read my liscense plate.  When he could make it out, he said, "Oh! Nebraska!" outloud.  I gave him a thumbs up and he mimed shivering to indicate that it was much colder in Nebraska.  Or maybe in Oregon.  Either way it was pretty adorable.

My Nebraska liscense plate is exciting a lot of comment here.   When I pulled up to the Chinese place to get my takeout, a couple dining inside were pointing and talking.  That has been happening a lot.

It reminded me of a time back in Hector, NY.   There was a little crossroads nearby called Logan.  Logan had an old Methodist chruch building, that the Logan community had bought and maintained.  It was supported every year with a Christmas bazaar and a Spring bazaar.  There were crafts to sell, but the highlight was the mac and cheese they sold.  There were several pounds of cheese grated into each batch.  So, one year, as Christmas approached, I went up to Logan for my mac and cheese.  There were no Hector or Lodi church folks eating, but i saw I lady I knew slightly eating with some friends and she invited me to join them.  She introduced me to her friends and one of them said, "Harvey?  Are you related to the Harveys in Odessa?"  It was a question I often got in that neighborhood.

"No ma'am, all my people are back in Nebraska."

This one little factual statement excited the lady.   "Nebraska!"  She turned ther companions.  "I don't think I've ever met a Nebraskan before!  They're kind of rare, aren't they?"  I remember thinking, Nebraskans are common as dirt where I come from!"  She looked at me again as if I were a rare species of bug pinned to board.

But the fact is, we are kind of rare.  Despite providing  the world with, Willa Cather, Henry Fonda, Johnny Carson, L. Ron Hubbard, Marg Helgenberger, Dick Cheney and Malcom X, (wouldn't that be a heck of a dinner party?) we are rare.   There are 1.7 million people living in Nebraska.  When Memorial Stadium is full on a beautiful fall Saturday the crowd of 85,000 is the third largest city in the state.  85,000 is just a blip in the population of other states.  I met about 150 other Nebraskans just a week ago at the Oregonians for Nebraska in Portland, but out here on the coast, I am a rarity once again.

Anyway, back to old men in Oregon.  Here is my other example, I was standing in front of the case containing eggs in the Safeway the other night, when an older gentleman said to me, "Have they brought the eggs yet?"  I looked at him in wonder and gestured to the multiplicity of egg choices in front of us.  He opened the ad from the store he had in his hand.  "No,they've got a sale on 18 large eggs!  You can get a coupon at the front of the store."  I smiled and explained that 18 eggs don't stay fresh long enough for one person.  He explained about several other things on sale (maybe he is one of those viral marketers for Safeway?) before I could disengage and get my other items.  Weird, but still, pretty adorable.

God, we thank you for the kindness of strangers and the strange nature of kindness.  Help us when we feel alone and let us know we are surrounded by your love in a way we cannot understand and by your love in our brothers and sisters who are also always around us.  Amen.

blessings,

Cindy