Life Lessons: Name Brand vs. Store Brand
As we’re on the way home from the movie tonight, I learn that #1 Son drank all the milk with his supper tonight. I was planning to use that milk to make pancakes tomorrow, so we need to stop and get some on our way home. I pull into the CashSaver near our house and give #1 Son five dollars, telling him that should be plenty to cover it. #1 Son runs inside and comes out a few minutes later with a gallon of milk and a receipt.
“It was $5.14!” he says as he climbs into the car. I give him fourteen cents and send him back into the store, while I try to figure out how I’m saving at this place when I can get Great Value (GV) milk (the store brand) for $2.94 a gallon at Wal-Mart. Then I see that #1 Son has bought Turner Quality Checked (TQC) milk, which is about $4 a gallon at Wal-Mart … the same price as this so-called CashSaver place. (So the only thing I saved is the gas it takes to get to the Wal-Mart, which is 10 minutes from home, while CashSaver is three minutes from home.)
#1 Son returns to the car and we head for home. I ask if they had any other brand of milk.
“Yeah, but I don’t trust those off brands. They aren’t as good.”
So, knowing that we’ve been drinking GV brand for more than a year now, I asked him what was the difference (besides a couple bucks a gallon).
“Turner is fresher, so it tastes better.”
“Oh,” I said, “Wanna bet?” He should know that when I say those words, he’s about to get a life lesson.
When we got home, I set up a blind taste test for both boys. I sent them off to put on their pajamas while I set everything up, so they couldn’t see what I was up to.
I had a quart of GV milk I bought last weekend, and the gallon of TQC that we’d just bought. (RISKY! Week-old store-brand milk vs. fresh-bought name brand!) I put a quarter of a cup of GV milk in each of two clear glasses. I put a quarter of a cup of TQC milk in each of two fancy coffee cups. Then I called the boys.
Right off, #1 Son points out that they each need a glass of water to rinse their mouths between samples, or it won’t be a fair test. So we get glasses of water for each of them.
I tell them to drink from each cup, and then tell me which one they like best, and which one they think is the TQC milk.
#1 Son goes first. He drinks, rinses, drinks. Considers. Tells me his choice and which cup has TQC in it. #2 Son follows suit.
Both boys tell me that the clear glass is the best-tasting, and that it is obviously the TQC milk. I tell them they are wrong! The TQC was in the fancy cup, and the plain old Wal-Mart milk was in the plain old glass. #1 Son practically accuses me of lying.
I look him straight in the eye and say, “When have I EVER lied to you? About ANYTHING?”
“Well … never. But you might have forgotten. Or gotten mixed up.”
“Nope. I wrote it down, on this piece of paper. See?” And I show them the piece of paper where I had written “glass: GV; mug: TQC.”
#1 Son mumbles something about it not being fair that I’m always right, and wanders off, shaking his head. #2 Son asks how I know all this stuff. I tell him that I experiment, all the time, to make sure I’m spending my money wisely. There’s no point in paying an extra $2 a gallon if I’m not going to be able to taste the difference.
There are very few things that I pay extra for the name brand for. Campbell’s condensed cream soups (for making casseroles), yes. BP gasoline, yes. One or two prescription drugs. But other than that, I’m content with store brands or generics. Once I’ve tested them and they’ve proven to work, taste, and/or perform just as well as the name brand, then they’ve got me. Because I don’t have a penny to waste. Not even on something as trivial as milk. Although, come to think of it, at $4/gallon, milk’s not trivial anymore. It’s right up there with the petrol I put in my car.
Knights in Shining Armour Do Exist
So I went out shopping today. Silly thing to do, a week before Christmas, but I had stuff to get. So. I left home at noon.
At 7 p.m., I came out of Target to find that someone had parked an extended-cab pickup truck next to my CRV in such a way that there was no way I could ever back my car out of the space. I am not “the world’s best back-wards driver” and this person was angled over the line into my space a good 12 inches, with his back bumper less than three inches from mine. (My car was in the exact center of the parking space — which was probably a good thing.)
I got in the car and sat for a minute, setting my purse in its spot, putting my packages away, and trying to think. My kids were coming home in about an hour, and I didn’t want to sit and wait for whoever had done this ridiculously bad parking job to finish their shopping and come out of the store. I wanted to get home and hide the gifts I’d just bought.
I got out of the car and walked to the back. I looked. Yep. Three inches between his bumper and mine. No way was I gonna try to back that sucker out. Shaking my head and fighting back tears of frustration, I turned to go back and settle into my seat.
I had parked next to the cart corral, and from the other side of it, a man suddenly called to me, “Great parking job, wasn’t it?” I looked up, and there was a man leaning out of his car’s window. He gestured to his wife, who was sitting in the passenger seat. “We saw it. The guy was either drunk or crazy. Can you get out? Do you need help?”
I shook my head. “No way I can get out. He’s too close.”
The man said, “I could get you out. Will you let me?”
I looked back at him doubtfully. I did not need a wreck. But his wife was nodding encouragingly and he seemed pretty confident. So I said, “Are you sure?”
“Sure, I know I can. And you stand right there in that empty spot in the cart thing and watch, and next time you’ll know what to do.”
So the man got out of his car and I handed him my key. He got in, started my car, slowly rolled it back an inch or two, then cut the wheel hard toward the truck and pulled forward really slowly. The he put it back in reverse, turned the wheel again, and backed out slowly.
As he pulled my car to a safe place, his wife leaned over and said, “I’m glad you let him do that for you. He’s a pilot, and does that with the really big airplanes all the time. I knew he could do it.” And she smiled happily and settled back into her seat.
I walked to my car, took my key from the man, thanked him, shook his hand … hugged him. Blessed him. My tears of frustration had turned to tears of gratefulness and joy.
I don’t run across a lot of knights in shining armour. I’m sure they are out there. But it seems that usually, when they’ve found their fair lady — the one who cheers them on and who they rescue from the evil dragon — they doff their armour, hang up their sword, and sit on their laurels. This guy hadn’t. He still had his armour on, his sword burnished and ready for action, and his eyes looking for the next quest. And his fair lady was there, urging him on, praising him and encouraging him.
I don’t know who they were, but God does. And my prayer is that He will bless them both in a very special way, because they very much blessed me.
Some Thoughts on Christianity
I have discovered a new author whose works I like … at least as far as I’ve read in them. And since what I read today has a lot of relevance to yesterday’s post on baptism, I want to share some excerpts from T. D. Jakes’s Help Me, I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up. (Comments in brackets are my own, to clarify, since I’m excerpting and not quoting the entire chapter verbatim.)
Stubborn and hard-headed, Saul [the one who became the Apostle Paul] insisted on doing things his own way. After all, he was intelligent, capable, religious — and proud of it! As a result, it took a dramatic move of God to knock Saul off his “high horse.”
….
God was saying, “Saul, why do you kick against the pricks?” In other words … why do you insist on doing things your own way without first consulting Me?Is the Lord asking you the same question … the American translation puts it this way, “Why do you allow yourself to continue to run into brick walls?”
These brick walls represent sin and rebellion. … No matter how sane and rational the sin may seem to you, sin is sin.
Sin always separates us from the presence of God. What a price to pay for wanting things our own way!
….
At the same time that Saul thought he had reached his darkest hour, God was preparing a main named Ananias to minister to Saul.
….
If you are in a place where you need God’s divine assistance, ask God to send someone to help you. There may already be people in your life who are available to bring healing and deliverance to you. You must, however, be willing to submit, as Saul did, to their ministry. Don’t fight divine connections!
…
Some of you may be [like a wounded animal that attacks those who want to help it, due to fear] … People who have called themselves Chrsitans have done hurtful things to you. … It seems to hurt far worse because these people professed to love the Lord.You may have been hurt to such an extent that you no longer trust anybody, not even God.
…
God wants to deliver you! He wants to arrest every … demonic spirit in your life — every demonic power, every type of sorcery, every hex, every spirit of unbelief, every spirit of doubt, every spirit of pride. God wants you set free, now!
…
Why do you continue in this fallen state? What more does the Lord have to do or say to show you He loves you? Don’t let satan continue to fool you into thinking that God has forsaken you.Stop blaming others for your mistakes. Realize and admit that there is something wrong with you. Quit being mad at everyone and stop trying to adjust the whole world to fit your circumstances.
…
Repent and confess your sins instead of spending your time pointing out the sins of everyone else. Admit that you have fallen so that your healing may begin.
So many times, I do just this. I dwell on what others have done to hurt me, what circumstances have impeded my pursuit of goals and dreams, and what mistakes I have made, and I fail to admit that I screwed up.
I think it’s Alcoholics Anonymous that says that the first step to healing is to admit that you have a problem. It is so hard to do that. And then it is even harder to be humble enough to accept help, correction, and instruction from other people. I don’t want people to think I’m dumb, ignorant, or foolish. I want to look capable and pulled-together and competent. Even when I know I’m not.
Anyway, this chapter really whacked me between the eyes today, and I know that I’m not the only one struggling with this. So I offer it to you, my friends, in case you are someone who may benefit from these thoughts.
Thoughts on Baptism
A friend of mine who is exploring faith asked, “If salvation is a gift of God, not of ourselves, so that no one can boast, then is baptism a part of grace or part of works or neither? Or is it part of the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, etc.)? Can you be saved and not be baptized?” I answered my friend, and have expanded on my thoughts here.
Baptism is neither works nor grace, it is an outward sign of obedience to an inward change of ownership. When you believe in Jesus Christ as your Saviour, placing your trust in Him as the one who can reconcile you to God, you are saved.
Being “saved” means that you have told God that you accept Christ’s sacrifice on your behalf, and that you ask God to see you through Christ’s blood — Jesus’s blood covers your sin so that God sees you as righteous. (One way I like to put it is that the only thing that saves me is that Jesus covers all my faults with His righteousness, so that God sees me through “Jesus-coloured glasses.”)
If you are deeply in debt and have before you a lifetime of working hard to pay off your debt while scrimping and saving to meet your absolute needs, and someone else comes along and says, here, I will pay off all that debt for you so that your paycheck is now your own …. you’re going to feel profoundly grateful. Your life will change — not just by virtue of the fact that you don’t have to be a wage-slave so that you can meet your obligations, but also because of your gratitude to the person who bailed you out.
Becoming a Christian is like that. You were separated from God because of your sinfulness, and you owed God a debt you could not pay. Jesus said, “I will pay the debt for you so that you can be reconciled to God.” And once you accept His stepping in to pay your debt, the question for you is: What form will your gratitude take?
Will you just say Okay, thanks, and take the gift and be done with it? Or will you allow the gift to change your life? Will you seek to show that same sacrificial love to others? Will you seek to make the one who bailed you out your model? Because that is what becoming a Christian really means. It’s not so much about getting that debt paid as it is about making the One who paid the debt your master.
When you accept Jesus’s sacrifice for you, you give Him a claim on your life. He has paid for you; you now belong to Him. Baptism acknowledges that claim publicly. We are baptised in obedience to the Lord Jesus Christ, as an outward sign that He has bought us and that we now belong to Him — it is our acknowledgement that He is now Master in our lives. Baptism is a step of obedience in following Jesus, who, though He was God Himself, was humble enough to ask a man to baptise him so that He would fulfill the teaching of Scripture.
In many ways, baptism is a symbol of your own death and resurrection. The immersion in the water symbolizes the death and burial of the old person who is controlled by their sin nature and who worships itself as the most important thing in the world. The rising up from the water symbolizes the cleaned and resurrected soul returning to a life that is given back to it. A life in which it follows a new Master.
Baptism is also a step toward humility. It says to the world that you choose to take yourself off the throne of your life and let someone else direct your life. It says that you are not too full of pride to submit to a ritual that countless thousands have undergone before you … including the One who paid your debt. It shows that you do not think that you, the servant, are better than Jesus, the Master.
Baptism is no more necessary to salvation than putting on clothes is necessary to life. A newborn won’t die if you don’t clothe it. But to leave it naked is to leave it outside the community. Clothes demonstrate our status and position; they give protection and demonstrate our obedience to societal standards.
Likewise, refusing or neglecting baptism leaves one outside the Christian community. Baptism shows that you are willing to obey Christ. It is a public statement that you now choose not to be in charge of your own life, but that you make Christ the Lord of your life. It aligns you with all of the other Christians in the world, for whom baptism was the rite of passage into a new life.
Baptism is one of the sacraments by which God ministers grace to us. To refuse it or neglect it is to refuse a measure of God’s grace. In the Methodist confirmation ritual, we tell the confirmands to “remember your baptism and be glad.” Baptism gives a person a specific point in time to look back to when faith wavers or when circumstances cause them to doubt their salvation, so that they can say with confidence, “I AM a child of God, cleansed from unrighteousness and worthy to approach my Father God with my needs and desires.”
Baptism is also a time for making your private transactions with God public. It’s like marriage: the boy and girl have already said their “yes” to the relationship — the marriage ceremony is simply when they stand before witnesses to make those promises public and binding. Once you’ve said vows before witnesses, there’s no more “he said, she said” if things don’t work out. Because someone else heard what the two of you said — it’s “official” in a way that a common-law marriage is not.
In the rite of baptism in most churches, the candidate for baptism confirms that they are rejecting sin and evil, that they will keep God’s will and His commandments, and that they affirm the Christian Faith (usually with reference to the Apostle’s Creed). Thus, baptism is like a wedding ceremony between the Believer and the Church. You might say that someone who neglects or refuses it “has commitment issues.”
If you are a Believer — that is, if you are a person who claims to be a Christian — if you claim that Jesus is your Saviour, but you resist the idea of getting baptized, then it’s important to figure out why. Is it pride — you don’t want to do some silly ritual in front of a bunch of people? Is it rebellion — you don’t really WANT to put someone else in charge of your life, but you want to keep calling the shots?
If you are claiming to be something, but you refuse even the most basic observances that are called for, then are you really what you claim to be? Don’t ask me, because it’s not my place to judge. That’s between you and God. But if you still have resistance to this simple act of obedience, you need to talk to God about it and ask Him to help you overcome your resistance to His instructions.
The last thing that Jesus said before He returned to Heaven was to tell His followers: Go, and teach all nations, BAPTIZING them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to observe all of the things that I have commanded you. (Matthew 28:19-20) He commanded it. If you wish to truly follow Him, then it seems that your commitment should be sealed with baptism.
Working With the Receptionist
Hi! I’m the receptionist. There are some things you should know about me and the ways I can, and cannot, help you.
First of all, I’m the low man on the totem pole here at my company. That means that I usually don’t have access to your confidential account information. That also means that I have absolutely no authority to help you. None. I certainly cannot agree to a deviation from company policy, even if you are the most special client we have. Even if you spend seven hundred billion dollars a year with us AND are on a first-name basis with the owner.
So don’t yell at me when I tell you that I can’t help you. I’m not being obstructive. I’m being honest.
Second, my job is very busy. I’m answering anywhere from 5 to 50 phone lines, and I have to transfer calls repeatedly throughout the day. While I try to be accurate, sometimes I may hit a wrong extension number. I AM sorry, and calling me stupid for transferring you to Mr. Smith instead of Mr. Jones is mean. Just so you know, their extensions are only one digit off. And once I’ve hit the digits, I usually can’t start over.
Add to that the fact that I probably have five or six calls coming in at the same time as yours. I don’t want to make you feel unimportant, but when I’ve got the call tones of five different lines ringing, things can get a little hairy. Especially if I am also dealing with a line of customers in front of my desk.
So be a little patient if I have to ask you to hold, or if I accidentally transfer you to the wrong person. Believe me, it IS an accident. I don’t have time to play stupid games or plan how to wreck your day. Really. I’d much rather get you happily off to the person you need, so I can get on with my to-do list.
Third, shocking as it may seem, I’m no superhero. I’m not perfect. I don’t know everything, and I don’t have x-ray vision. I don’t know whether Mr. Smith is in his office or not. There are at least two walls and a door between us. There might be an entire floor — or ten — between us. This is why my company pays for a voice-mail system. If I transfer you to Mr. Smith and he doesn’t answer, then he’s either not in his office, or he’s not taking calls.
If he’s not taking calls, I don’t know why, and it’s rude of you to ask. Maybe he is talking to someone else. Maybe he has a migraine. Maybe he doesn’t like you. I don’t know which — but if you are yelling at me about it, well, I might could hazard a guess. Whatever his reasons for not answering his phone, your best bet is to leave a voice mail. If you know his e-mail address, follow-up with an e-mail. But don’t give me a hard time just because someone over whom I have no control — because he outranks me (see my first point) — isn’t answering his phone. I can’t make him.
If the person you’re calling isn’t answering, calling back repeatedly over the course of several hours isn’t going to make them answer. It’s only going to make you look like a jerk. When you call me every five minutes for two hours, you just make my life more difficult.
When you demand to speak to a person, not a machine, you’re not making my job easier. Our company is divided into departments for a reason. Not just any person can help you. You need the person who is an expert in the area about which you’re calling. Sure, I could transfer you to any random extension, hoping you’ll get a person to answer, but that’s only going to make you AND them mad at me. Them because I wasted their time and didn’t do my job properly, and you because you’ll only get transferred around even more.
Fourth, don’t call people during the lunch hour. At my office, people begin taking their lunch-breaks at 11:30 a.m. Some people leave for lunch as late as 1:30 p.m. In general, if you call between 11:30 a.m. and 1:30 p.m., you can expect to get voice-mail.
Finally, have some patience. If you left your first message this morning at 8:30, don’t call back at noon to tell me that you’ve already left a message and no one is returning your call. It won’t help you to leave six messages between 8:00 a.m. and noon, either. Give the person at least 24 hours to call you back. They may have a meeting to attend, or prior commitments to keep, and may not be in a position to check messages until late in the work-day.
I’m the receptionist. My job is to help you reach the person who can help you. And I can help you best if you help me by remaining polite, calm, and reasonable.
Thoughts on Worship
A continuation of yesterday’s post. Starting with a rather long, but extremely salient, quotation from C.S. Lewis’s Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer.
I think our business as laymen is to take what we are given and make the best of it. And I think we should find this a great deal easier if what we were given was always and everywhere the same.
To judge from their practice, very few … clergymen take this view. It looks as if they believed people can be lured to go to church by incessant brightenings, lightenings, lengthenings, abridgements, simplifications, and complications of the service. And it is probably true that a new, keen vicar will usually be able to form within his parish a minority who are in favour of his innovations. The majority, I believe, never are. Those who remain — many give up churchgoing altogether — merely endure.
Is this simply because the majority are hide-bound? I think not. They have a good reason for their conservatism. Novelty, simply as such, can have only an entertainment value. And they don’t go to church to be entertained. They go to use the service, or, if you prefer, to enact it. Every service is a structure of acts and words through which we receive a sacrament, or repent, or supplicate, or adore. And it enables us to do these things best — if you like, it “works” best — when, through long familiarity, we don’t have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count, the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. … The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God.
But every novelty prevents this. It fixes our attention on the service itself; and thinking about worship is a different thing from worshiping. …
A still worse thing may happen. Novelty may fix our attention not even on the service but on the celebrant. … Try as one may to exclude it, the question “What on earth is he up to now?” will intrude. It lays one’s devotion waste. There is really some excuse for the man who said, “I wish they’d remember that the charge to Peter was ‘Feed my sheep’; not ‘Try experiments on my rats,’ or even, ‘Teach my performing dogs new tricks’.”
Thus my whole liturgiological position really boils down to an entreaty for permanence and uniformity. I can make do with almost any kind of service whatever, if only it will stay put. But if each form is snatched away just when I am beginning to feel at home in it, then I can never make any progress in the art of worship.
… And that brings me back to my starting point. The business of us laymen is simply to endure and make the best of it. Any tendency to a passionate preference for one type of service must be regarded simply as a temptation. … And if we avoid them, may we not possibly perform a very useful function? The shepherds go off, “everyone to his own way,” and vanish over diverse points of the horizon. If the sheep huddle patiently together and go on bleating, might they finally recall the shepherds?
I find much to agree with in this passage.
I DO agree that the main job of the laity is to make the best of whatever spiritual sustenance is on offer, even if the “menu” is not entirely palatable.
I also agree that it is much easier to FIND the good if you know what to expect when you sit down at table. Consistency is not necessarily stagnation. Sometimes consistency is the bedrock on which beauty is built. If you serve a different recipe every time you serve chocolate-chip cookies, no one will be able to characterize what YOUR cookies are like.
I think that we too often think we can boost our numbers with innovation and modernization. And we may see an increase in numbers. But is anyone counting the ones who leave, fed up with not being able to relax long enough to weed out the good from the dross?
As Lewis says, I don’t go to worship to be entertained. I go to worship to receive sacraments, to adore, to approach closer to God than I can alone. There is an enormous difference between me, on my own, singing a song of adoration to God, and the music of a large group offering their music corporately. Likewise, there is power in corporate prayer that solitary prayer lacks. Corporate prayer binds the will of all of the congregation and cements it to the will of God — increasing the power of the prayer exponentially. (Please understand that I do not, in any way, mean to denigrate the value of personal worship, prayer, or devotions.)
I DO find that when the standard form of worship is altered, I am more easily distracted and feel “on edge” — as if I am constantly wondering “what’s going to happen next?” When I don’t know what to expect, I feel very much as I do when my theatre ensemble first works with blocking — nervous, unsettled, apprehensive. I don’t want to make a mistake, so I can’t relax into my role. Once the blocking is set, I can begin to settle into my part. And once I settle into it, I can both give the most to it and get the most from it. As Lewis says, “As long as you notice the steps, you are not yet dancing….”
And so, like Lewis, I am left bleating at my shepherds: “Give me permanence. Give me predictable. Give me something comfortable.” I only hope that the shepherds will hear, and listen, and come back to where this frightened, bewildered sheep is huddled with her fellow sheep, waiting to be fed.
Thoughts on Worship vs. Teaching
Background Note: Following are thoughts sparked by a Facebook conversation in which a few people expressed concern over some things that were occurring in our church’s worship services. The initial concern was over inappropriate behaviour such as texting and snacking. As the conversation continued, some people expressed discomfort with the use of movie clips during the service, and with the shift from the traditional liturgy to a less structured service, with the omission of the Psalter and Creeds, and similar changes.
I think that there is a difference between worship and teaching, and maybe this is where the confusion is coming in. I don’t think anyone is saying that we see no value in the various things we have identified as being inappropriate in a worship service. We are only saying that we feel that they are out of place. And if you draw a distinction between worship and teaching, and between the sacred and the secular, then our objections make sense.
Worship is focused on God Himself. It seeks to acknowledge, quantify, praise, and attend to all that is worthy, good, and admirable about God. It seeks to give Him honour, acknowledge His glory, and magnify Him with praise. It requires undivided attention to the Person of God.
Teaching is focused on learning ABOUT God. It is less concerned with praise and giving honour than with understanding who God is and how He wants us to act as His children or His followers.
While teaching has been a traditional part of the worship service since early times, it has represented only a small portion of the service. Much of the service has traditionally been centered around prayer, scripture and creeds, and music. Prayer in many modes: corporate, individual, pastoral; spontaneous, scripted, and liturgical. Scripture read by one person to the congregation. Scripture recited by the congregation. Responsive readings of Psalms and other scripture. Music also in many modes, both vocal and instrumental: corporate singing, soloists and small ensembles, call-and-response hymnody. Teaching, as homilies, sermons, or explanations of the scripture, has traditionally taken only a small portion of the worship service.
However, teaching has a large function in the church, and in non-worship gatherings of God’s people. Jesus’s ministry was focused on teaching. He taught people who God is and how we could be reconciled to Him. When we have Bible study, small group, Sunday school, and the like, we are following in the steps of Christ as teacher.
But when we worship, the focus is to be on God Himself. When people are granted an audience with the Pope or a reigning monarch, they exercise self-control: they wouldn’t dream of hauling in a bottle of water and a bag of chips, much less of texting someone else or taking a call on their cell phone while sitting there with the Pope or the Queen. It would be disrespectful. Irreverent.
How much more respect and reverence should God receive from us? If we understand the inappropriateness of texting or snacking while in the middle of a papal audience, why can we not understand that the sanctuary is God’s house and that the activities that take place there should be reverent and respectful of the Holiness that is God?
I recognize that God is also our Father, and, as such, we have a more personal relationship with Him that we can with the Pope. But there is still a place for reverence and respect, even when dealing with your dad.
There is a division between the secular and the sacred. Bringing the secular into the sacred realm causes deep discomfort for those who recognize this division. Worship is concerned with the sacred. Teaching seeks to find the common ground between the sacred and the secular. Movies, kids’ games, snacks, and the like are generally considered to be “secular.” Thus, they are appropriate for teaching venues, but not worship venues.
It should also be said that one expects adults to exercise a level of self-control that cannot be expected of children. I don’t mind a parents feeding his child Cheerios or providing a bottle or sippy-cup to keep the child quiet and amused during the service. But a teenager or adult who can’t last an hour without a snack …. that is going to raise concerns for me. Likewise, I have no problem with a child coloring, or playing with a quiet toy, during the service. But a teenager or adult needs to be focusing on the service, not on a video game, cell phone, or even a book.
Most middle class Americans tend to worship their work, to work at their play, and to play at their worship. (Gordon Dahl. Work, Play, and Worship in a Leisure-Oriented Society. )
If even the secular world can recognize that our observances are out of whack, can we not do so … and begin to set the dissonances right? It might mean both sides of the situation having to truly listen to each other. It might mean refusing to allow personal attacks and negative characterizations. It might mean people on both sides having to be humble enough to accept compromise. But I think it would be more in the spirit of “one holy catholic church” than the current, intermittent donnybrook is.
In Letters to Malcolm and Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis had some good thoughts on this topic. I will post them tomorrow, as today’s post is already 900 words long.
How to Kill Morale and Initiative. A True Story.*
An invoice for grounds-keeping work at “Any Street and Some Road” arrives in the Company’s mail. Over the course of the week, the invoice makes the rounds of all of the administrative desks, with no one wanting to claim it for their department because no one recognizes the address or the vendor.
The first person who gets it is Happy. She checks with her people, who disclaim any knowledge of it, so she passes it on to Bashful, saying she’s pretty sure it’s from that division. Bashful says that she’s checked with all of her execs, and it’s not any of theirs, so she passes it on to Dopey. Dopey calls Sleepy and Sleepy says that she doesn’t recognize it at all. So Dopey checks with all of her execs — she even contacts Grumpy, who is out of the country. None of her execs claims it, but Doc thinks that it’s Sneezy’s. Sneezy is one of Bashful’s execs. So Dopey gives it back to Bashful with a note that Doc says it’s probably Sneezy’s. Sneezy denies any knowledge of the property or the vendor.
Now, all the time this is going on, Dopey, who has been with the company for several years, has this nagging feeling that this problem is familiar. Finally, she remembers a conversation that Grumpy had with another employee three or four years ago while standing in front of her desk. She can’t remember much of it, because she tries not to eavesdrop, but she seems to remember Grumpy saying that this particular property was actually a vacant lot that that adjoins a small rental house owned by the Company. The land must be cleared a few times a year to keep the City from issuing a citation, and this vendor does the job — the only job he does for the Company.
So Dopey goes to the main accounting software and looks through all of the vendor names until she finds the name of the person who sent the invoice. She then checks the vendor file and finds the date of the most recent check issued, and notes that the invoices all occur between May and September, and that they appear to go back at least five years. Then she goes to the accounting archive and finds a previous invoice, which has all of the accounting codes and payment information.
Feeling triumphant, Dopey e-mails the other admins to say that in the future, the invoice should be coded to property number 999, with code 7777. When she calls Bashful to get the invoice back, Bashful codes it for her. Now all Dopey needs is a signature and she can turn in the mystery invoice. But she doesn’t know who to get the signature from, because the signature on the previous invoice is illegible.
And trouble is brewing. Dopey gets an e-mail from Happy, saying that there is no property code 999. So Dopey goes to accounting and asks one of the clerks, who tells her that there is a 999, it’s X House, and it has a zero balance, so it’s probably been sold.
Thoroughly confused, Dopey writes a memo to the Assistant Controller, copying the Controller, to ask that the account be verified as legitimate before the bill is paid, and asking who should sign to approve the payment of the invoice. The next thing she knows, the Controller is giving her a stern talking-to about the fact that this invoice has been coming in forever, and that Grumpy’s dad owns it, and Grumpy knows all about it. His attitude is, “why are you making such a big deal about this?”
Dopey responds, “Hey, I know all of that. I figured it out. But Grumpy said he knows nothing about it, and someone said I was wrong about the coding, and someone else said they thought the property was sold. So I just wanted someone in authority to confirm my conclusions before we paid a bill that we shouldn’t.”
And the Controller starts his explanation all over. So Dopey repeats the fact that she already knows what he’s telling her (first from her own research, and second from his initial lecture), and then asks who should approve it.
The Controller asks who approved the last one, and Dopey says, “I can’t tell. The signature is just a sort of squiggle with a circle around it.”
The Controller sighs loudly, rolls his eyes, forcefully wads up the paper he’s holding (which happens to be his copy of the memo) and tosses it in the bin, and stalks off.
And Dopey stands there wondering what on earth she did wrong and why she now feels depressed instead of triumphant.
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Raise the Lamp, the White and Blue …
My Alma Mater, Lambuth University, will cease to exist at the close of business on June 30. Lambuth has educated young people for 168 years. She withstood the Great Depression, a couple of recessions, and two World Wars. But she could not withstand the financial mismanagement and the collapsing economy of the last dozen years.
Twenty-five years ago, I drove to Jackson, Tennessee, and first set foot on the soil that would change my life forever. I fell in love with Lambuth College from the moment I laid eyes on her beautiful campus. And I treasure the memories of my four years of undergraduate study under some of the most wonderful, caring professors that have ever graced a college campus.
Seven years ago, on a whim, I drove my two sons to Jackson to show them “where Mommy went to school.” They were five and seven. After we walked the length and breadth of the campus, explored the chapel, library, and student union, and wandered over to the theatre and the athletic fields, my younger son said, “Mommy, I want to come to your college when I grow up.” In the ensuing years, he has repeated this wish to me many times. My older son, not as demonstrative as his brother, has also confided that he wanted to go to my alma mater.
Today I was told that their dreams (and mine) will never come true. My sons will not be able to attend my college, because my college is closing her doors. I wish I could weep. I am too stunned. There is a pain, a sadness, too deep for tears. The death of a dream … the loss of a foundation … these are such pains.
I remember professors who took a personal interest in their students. Marcy Mittelstadt. Bob Hazlewood and his wife Judy. Dean Charles Mayo. Susan Hudacek. Joy Austin. Ronnie Barnes. Lendon Noe. Larry Ray. Dalton Eddleman. Jesse Byrum. Dick Brown. Don Huneycutt. Jo Fleming. Gene Davenport. Lois Lord. Others whose names escape me, but whose faces are vividly etched upon my memory.
I remember my suite in Carney-Johnston hall. And my series of rooms in Sprague. I remember “my” space in the library. “My” seat in the computer lab. “My” spot in the green-room backstage of the theatre. I remember parties at the Sig Ep house and the KA house. Reading on the porch of the tumbledown, historic cabin. Writing reams of bad poetry by the duck pond. Jogging on the fields behind the theatre. Walking from Lambuth to Bnai Israel with two oven-fresh challot in my hand. Passing Jogging even though I spent half the semester on crutches. Setting Sprague’s stove on fire while making beef stroganoff because I didn’t see the grease someone had left in the burner’s drip pan … and the firemen’s reaction when I offered them some fresh-baked bread and told them I’d already put out the fire.
I remember the controversies. Over changing from “college” to “university.” Over Dean Mayo’s “resignation.” (My first sit-in!) Over making one of the dorms co-ed.
I remember the fun. Homecoming parties and games. Old South. All-Sing. Madrigal Feaste. Choir tour (Wisconsin! Orlando! almost England!) Orientation. Graduation. The Miss Lambuth Pageant. Movie night in the Union. Learning to play 8-ball in the game room. Bonfire night. Opening night at the theatre. The plays: Camelot. No Exit. Brigadoon. Charley’s Aunt. House of Blue Leaves. Godspell. Guys and Dolls. The Importance of Being Earnest.
I remember cleaning the greenhouse and the salt water aquarium in the Biology dept. Working with the girls’ basketball team. Talking Dr. Davenport into offering Hebrew for four terms. Tutoring neighbourhood kids in reading skills on the top floor of the Student Union. Working on the Yearbook and the Lit Mag with some awesome, creative people. Sobbing my homesick way through freshman seminar. Turning in two term papers in Shakespeare’s Tragedies when Dr. Hazlewood changed his mind about my chosen topic … three days after I’d finished my paper. Swimming laps and failing to jump off the high platform in the pool. Doing Callanetics in the walkway that overlooked the gym. Cleaning up the theatre’s attic. Drooling over the antique books being sold in the library. All-night typing sessions to help my first customers complete their term papers on time. Choir rehearsals and piano practise in the basement of the chapel. Cups and cups and cups of coffee during all-night cramming for exams.
I met so many friends there. I met myself there. I wouldn’t trade those years for anything. I am devastated that my sons will not be able to have the Lambuth experience. I realize that many of the experiences I had are universal to college, no matter where you go. But Lambuth was special. To me, her strength was in her size, the beauty of her campus, and the love of her faculty for her students. Lambuth was too small to get lost in, and too big to get spoiled in. Lambuth was like a hand-picked, close-knit family. Lambuth was home.
I know that all good things must come to an end. But I would have preferred that this end be a little longer in coming.
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Instant Obedience?
The discussion at this blog over whether God expects first-time obedience from us struck a chord with me. I believe that He does, usually, expect us to obey Him instantly and without question. However, there are plenty of examples in Scripture where God shows mercy and gives a second chance. While I could give several examples, the one that I think is most striking is that of Jonah.
God said, “Jonah, go to Ninevah.”
Jonah said, “Oh, heck no!” and ran away to Tarshish … the opposite end of the world.
God didn’t strike Jonah dead. He DID show His wrath by bringing a storm and making it clear to the sailors that the storm was Jonah’s fault. But He showed mercy to Jonah by letting the whale swallow him and giving him time to reconsider. Then He had the whale spit Jonah out on the beach so that Jonah could do as he was told. In other words, God gave Jonah a second chance.
It seems to me that those who were severely punished were violating laws that had been set down, clearly, in advance, and laws that they had been warned carried the penalty of death.
Uzzah: When God commissioned the Ark of the Covenant, He stated quite clearly that , after it was consecrated, it was not to be touched, on penalty of death. (Num. 4) By touching the Ark, even out of good intentions, Uzzah violated the sanctity of the Ark.
Dathan, Abiram, and Korah: God made it quite clear that His altars were to be used for His glory, and that anyone who did not follow His instructions for the sacrifices would be killed. By offering unauthorized sacrifices (strange fire), these men violated the sanctity of the altar of God.
Adam and Eve: God said “in the day that you eat of that tree’s fruit, you shall surely die.”
Saul: Saul had more second chances than you might think, but he just kept on doing it his way. Consulting with a witch, when God said “Don’t allow a witch to live.” Letting Agag live and keeping some of Agag’s livestock when God said, “Completely destroy all of the Amalekites and everything they own.” Offering sacrifices to God, when God has clearly said that the priest, and ONLY the priest, was to offer sacrifices. Saul’s disobedience was a lifelong pattern that showed his unwillingness to submit to God’s rules.
Over and over, we see that those people who are struck down instantly violated God’s holiness. The people who violated other instructions were usually allowed to live and given second chances. They still had to deal with the consequences of their actions (Adam and Eve and the curse, David and the death of his baby, Saul and the loss of his kingdom, Jonah and three days in a fish’s guts, Samson’s slavery and blindness …), but God allowed them physical life and chances to repent.
I think we have to keep that in mind with our kids. Outright rebellion that challenges the parent’s authority as parent — “you’re not the boss of me,” “I won’t” — requires swift, decisive punishment. But childishnesss, foolishness, forgetfulness, and the myriad other ways that a child can disobey without malicious intent, these require mercy, understanding, and gentle correction.
I have found this true with my two boys. I tried the “instant obedience” rubric with my first, but I found that it created barriers between us. It exasperated and frustrated him — putting me in disobedience to God, who has told me not to provoke my children to anger. When I learned which hills were worth dying on and stopped punishing the same way for every infraction, my relationship with my son improved dramatically.
One resource that has helped me to develop Biblical consequences for misbehaviour is the book “For Instruction in Righteousness,” written by Pam Forster. It’s a topical Bible, of sorts, that analyzes many different kinds of behaviour by listing the Bible passages that refer to it. Thus, for example, since God says that the person who won’t work should not eat, an appropriate consequence for a child who refuses to do his assigned chores would be to miss a meal. But if he chooses to then do the chores, he should be allowed to eat; he should not be refused the rewards of repentance.