This morning a forwarded piece showed up in my inbox, and my impulsive nature refused to be curtailed. My reply to the piece has already been sent to the sender and recipients. I am copying it here with identities protected simply as another post to my blog page.
Dear friend _____,
The e-mail below, purported to have been forwarded by you, is determined by Snopes.com to be false. The piece, attributed to Andy Rooney, first appeared in 2003, but he did not say these things; in fact, the Snopes' article includes comments by Rooney indicating his disgust and offense at the statements made in his name. (Found on Snopes under the title "Andy Rooney's Political Views")
Honestly, I was surprised that you forwarded it and am wondering if some Trojan worm has infected your computer and committed this deed under your imprimatur. Knowing you as I do, I have decided that is the case.
Even so, I am caving into the impulse to respond to several of the points contained in the piece, and would be interested in any responses you or any of the other recipients may have.
The problem with the Internet is that it allows for unsubstantiated legends to emerge in much the same way that the Bible evolved. Because the Bible was written in a pre-scientific age, people tended to believe any of the yarns that were woven around the campfires while the sheep were dozing or grazing in the field. It was a time when people believed stuff simply because someone told it--and what may have been intended as metaphorical took on literalistic overtones in later generations. It seems the Internet has returned us to a similar time--if it appears on the Net, then it must be true. Sounds like biblical literalism to me, but as Judge Judy says over and over again, "If it doesn't make sense, then it isn't true." Immediately upon reading the piece it didn't make sense that Andy Rooney would say such things, and a quick look at Snopes.com revealed that, indeed, he didn't.
Obviously whoever the author is, s/he is motivated by racist/sexist/ethnic/homophobic leanings. Rooney in his response makes the same point, and goes so far as to say that he is offended that anyone would believe that he would make such statements. He is a more sophisticated thinker than the author of the piece makes him out to be.
Then there's the bit about legal or illegal residents in America learning to speak English. Having just returned from a very hot and humid trip in Florida, and witnessing migrant workers tending the orange groves and other agricultural pursuits from sun up to sun down, doing back-breaking work for sub-standard pay, and if news reports are to be believed, sending most of their meager compensation back to Mexico to support their families (all made possible because no American citizen would agree to do such work under such conditions for such a pittance), I find it just a tad unreasonable to require English as a pre-condition to do work that we Americans won't do. Not only so, but some futurist studies are indicating that if persons are not bi-lingual in the coming generations, they will be regarded as disadvantaged. Maybe rather than expecting everyone to be just like us, we might do well to develop fluency in other languages and cultures, if, for no other reason than that we wish to avoid intensive labor in oppressively hot and humid orange groves.
As you know, I am a child of parents whose communication was bi-lingual: written English and Sign Language, which is not English (though there are attempts to turn it into English) but is classified as a foreign language. Because my parents were deaf, they could not hear the names they were called by peers at work or buddies at the Moose Club or neighbors in the street, but my sister and I could: dummies, crazy, weird, stupid, to say nothing of the mocking gestures behind their backs (some of which included that infamously flipping middle finger). While I cannot know what it is like to be a part of a racial or ethnic minority in an intolerant society, perhaps I do possess some kinship with those who are, and I am deeply offended and hurt when a kind of narrative as this one lands in my inbox.
And, I'm sorry, but it absolutely does take a village to raise a child. Had there not been other significant, credible adults in my life growing up in a government housing project with parents who were looked down on because of their disability, I'd probably be in prison now. It was because of caring youth advisers at church, the few good teachers at school, and humane neighbors and friends that I was able to see broader horizons and have hope that something more was possible. Whoever wrote this piece sounds like a man very much like my father: abusive and troubled in a way that led to severe acting out. Thank God for the other gentler people in my life.
The fact that this piece is resurfacing now after having originated six years ago is curious. Let's see: we have an African American as President, there's a woman who is Secretary of State, there's that imbroglio about Professor Gates and racial profiling, there's the hullabaloo about gays in the military, etc. Hmmmm, is this coincidence?
The author of this diatribe invokes God, as if somehow the opinions he expresses are sanctioned by God. I remember saying the Pledge of Allegiance before the phrase "under God" was included, and I remember how at first it was difficult to say it the "new" way. But if saying "under God" means that we are saying that God relates only to English speaking, non-alien, intolerant, prejudiced, homophobic, pure-lily-white folk, then I'll have to omit the phrase when asked to say the pledge. I understand the Australians also have the same phrase in their pledge, but their parliament made it legal for people to choose to include it or not. And we say we believe in the separation of church and state.
Speaking now as an Ordained Christian (though retired) pastor, I must object to any understanding about God that does not profess that the Divine relates to all creation and to all peoples--English speaking or not--Muslim, Buddhist, Atheist--even the bigot who wrote this article and sought to give it credence by attributing it to a well-known journalist--urging all of life toward less hurtful wounding and more healing wholeness.
Once again, _____, I am choosing to believe the forward of this article is some kind of cybernetic fluke. You have never come across to me as someone who would support the kind of sentiments reflected in this article. I am presently reading James Bamford's THE SHADOW FACTORY, a cumbersome, yet convincingly detailed expose of the capabilities that Big Brother has acquired in cybernetic technology. Who knows where such urban legends as this originate or who is responsible for passing them on?
Polly and I are looking forward to being with you and ____ at the beach in September.
Peace,
Jim N.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Swim Clubs and the Like
The news coverage a few weeks ago of the Huntingdon Valley Swim Club reneging on its contract to permit children from a Northeast Philadelphia day camp to swim one day a week in its pool sparked memories of similar instances in both personal and vocational encounters over the years.
The first thing our family noticed when we moved into a parsonage located in a neighborhood that was considered the most “up-scale” place to live in the state was a swimming pool a stone’s throw down the hill from our residence. That was in June, 1986. As our son was 14 years old at the time, we immediately imagined that he would be able to go to the pool and maybe even make some friends before school began in the fall. That was faulty assuming, and you know what they say about those who assume.
On further investigation, we discovered that it was a private swim club, and that to become a member cost $300 plus an annual maintenance assessment, the amount of which was variable according to the expenses incurred. We couldn’t afford to join. Later we learned that the family living in the parsonage before us had convinced the church to pay for a blanket club membership for any family occupying the parsonage, but that idea was soundly rejected by the swim club association because “there was no way of knowing ‘who’ might move into the parsonage.”
As I said above, this neighborhood was considered the crème de la crème of places to live. Once when standing in a lunch line with friends at a meeting being held at the other end of the state, a stranger standing in front of me heard me say something about where I lived and, turning around she exclaimed, “You live in _____ _____, oooooohhhhhh how wonderful for you! I was not complimented. It’s a wonder the neighborhood wasn’t “gated,” because that seems to be the trend for residential areas where the inhabitants are corporate executives, lawyers, doctors, politicians, educators as well as the few families, like ours, that manage to worm their way in.
Another episode while living there may help to make the point. The elementary school in the neighborhood was overcrowded. Portable classrooms were placed on the school’s small campus to provide additional instructional space, nearly using up all the available land. The Board of Education, wisely, they assumed, (remember what they say about assuming) devised a plan where some of the children from this neighborhood would be bussed to the fairly new school building just down the hill in the valley below.
Problem: Even though that modern building was built to accommodate 90 students and was being under used, it had the unfortunate malady of being located in the community where the “creekers” lived, the name given to the less obviously advantaged families living along the creek. When the “up-scale” families on top of the hill caught wind of what the BOE was devising, those movers and shakers did what they know how to do best, and the plan to alleviate the over-crowded conditions were scuttled. Not only so, but the BOE, for economic reasons, was forced to close the new facility in the valley, cram more portable classrooms onto the already overcrowded campus, and bus the few children from the valley to the prestigious school on top of the hill.
By the way, the hilltop school proudly claimed at the time that 93% of its students were “gifted.” I knew some of those children, and if they were gifted, then when I was their age, I was the equivalent of an Einstein. (Believe me, I was not!) Perhaps their giftedness was more an indication of the political pressure their parents could bring to bear on such decisions.
So egregious was the reversal of the BOE’s plan that yours truly couldn’t resist speaking to the issue from the pulpit. That along with other perceived judgmental attitudes and failures on my part may have helped to lead to my being “fired” from that assignment, the only time I have ever received such distinction in my years as a pastor.
Please don’t think that I am saying the people on the hilltop were bad or vicious or conniving or mean-spirited. While I may have harbored such suspicions at one time, I have long ago let such thoughts go. In fact, most of that congregation was comprised of very intelligent, skilled and compassionate individuals, some of whom I continue to hold in deep respect and appreciation, with a fondness that brings delight when remembering them.
So how do I understand the kinds of prejudicial behavior that seemed to manifest itself during those years in that place? My thinking now is that these eruptions were more the result of values coming up against one another. If ethics or morality is inherent in the universe’s creation, then it seems that humanity is at its best when it aligns itself with whatever the ethical principles are. As Christians, we profess that the highest ethical value is found in the love of God, neighbor and self, which suggests a kind of mutual behavior toward all of life (including oneself) in constructive ways, ways that build up and help all of life become what, by God, it is meant to be.
But reality often presents conflicts between what is best for one part of life over another. The good parents of the exclusive neighborhood decided, rightly or wrongly, that the good of their own children was preferable to any consideration given to possible benefits for all children. That is understandable; we all want what we perceive is best for our own children.
Yet, as one who grew up in a government housing project (a “creeker” of sorts), and at the same time, as one who grew up in a very prestigious downtown church, I’m led to the conclusion that the aforementioned hilltop community where I served for a short while was honestly mistaken. My growing up in a congregation of movers and shakers, being friends with children of all economic strata, being invited to the homes of the very affluent and included in their family activities, being treated as worthy along with the children of the “pikers,” (the wealthier people who lived “out the pike”) has made a dramatic difference in my own life. When did it happen that the more affluent lost sight of how their abundance placed upon them greater responsibility for the community’s well-being? What led to their building fences and gates around their neighborhoods rather than reaching down into the valleys to lift others up? As Jesus is purported to have put it: “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded.” (St. Luke 12:48 NRSV)
The first thing our family noticed when we moved into a parsonage located in a neighborhood that was considered the most “up-scale” place to live in the state was a swimming pool a stone’s throw down the hill from our residence. That was in June, 1986. As our son was 14 years old at the time, we immediately imagined that he would be able to go to the pool and maybe even make some friends before school began in the fall. That was faulty assuming, and you know what they say about those who assume.
On further investigation, we discovered that it was a private swim club, and that to become a member cost $300 plus an annual maintenance assessment, the amount of which was variable according to the expenses incurred. We couldn’t afford to join. Later we learned that the family living in the parsonage before us had convinced the church to pay for a blanket club membership for any family occupying the parsonage, but that idea was soundly rejected by the swim club association because “there was no way of knowing ‘who’ might move into the parsonage.”
As I said above, this neighborhood was considered the crème de la crème of places to live. Once when standing in a lunch line with friends at a meeting being held at the other end of the state, a stranger standing in front of me heard me say something about where I lived and, turning around she exclaimed, “You live in _____ _____, oooooohhhhhh how wonderful for you! I was not complimented. It’s a wonder the neighborhood wasn’t “gated,” because that seems to be the trend for residential areas where the inhabitants are corporate executives, lawyers, doctors, politicians, educators as well as the few families, like ours, that manage to worm their way in.
Another episode while living there may help to make the point. The elementary school in the neighborhood was overcrowded. Portable classrooms were placed on the school’s small campus to provide additional instructional space, nearly using up all the available land. The Board of Education, wisely, they assumed, (remember what they say about assuming) devised a plan where some of the children from this neighborhood would be bussed to the fairly new school building just down the hill in the valley below.
Problem: Even though that modern building was built to accommodate 90 students and was being under used, it had the unfortunate malady of being located in the community where the “creekers” lived, the name given to the less obviously advantaged families living along the creek. When the “up-scale” families on top of the hill caught wind of what the BOE was devising, those movers and shakers did what they know how to do best, and the plan to alleviate the over-crowded conditions were scuttled. Not only so, but the BOE, for economic reasons, was forced to close the new facility in the valley, cram more portable classrooms onto the already overcrowded campus, and bus the few children from the valley to the prestigious school on top of the hill.
By the way, the hilltop school proudly claimed at the time that 93% of its students were “gifted.” I knew some of those children, and if they were gifted, then when I was their age, I was the equivalent of an Einstein. (Believe me, I was not!) Perhaps their giftedness was more an indication of the political pressure their parents could bring to bear on such decisions.
So egregious was the reversal of the BOE’s plan that yours truly couldn’t resist speaking to the issue from the pulpit. That along with other perceived judgmental attitudes and failures on my part may have helped to lead to my being “fired” from that assignment, the only time I have ever received such distinction in my years as a pastor.
Please don’t think that I am saying the people on the hilltop were bad or vicious or conniving or mean-spirited. While I may have harbored such suspicions at one time, I have long ago let such thoughts go. In fact, most of that congregation was comprised of very intelligent, skilled and compassionate individuals, some of whom I continue to hold in deep respect and appreciation, with a fondness that brings delight when remembering them.
So how do I understand the kinds of prejudicial behavior that seemed to manifest itself during those years in that place? My thinking now is that these eruptions were more the result of values coming up against one another. If ethics or morality is inherent in the universe’s creation, then it seems that humanity is at its best when it aligns itself with whatever the ethical principles are. As Christians, we profess that the highest ethical value is found in the love of God, neighbor and self, which suggests a kind of mutual behavior toward all of life (including oneself) in constructive ways, ways that build up and help all of life become what, by God, it is meant to be.
But reality often presents conflicts between what is best for one part of life over another. The good parents of the exclusive neighborhood decided, rightly or wrongly, that the good of their own children was preferable to any consideration given to possible benefits for all children. That is understandable; we all want what we perceive is best for our own children.
Yet, as one who grew up in a government housing project (a “creeker” of sorts), and at the same time, as one who grew up in a very prestigious downtown church, I’m led to the conclusion that the aforementioned hilltop community where I served for a short while was honestly mistaken. My growing up in a congregation of movers and shakers, being friends with children of all economic strata, being invited to the homes of the very affluent and included in their family activities, being treated as worthy along with the children of the “pikers,” (the wealthier people who lived “out the pike”) has made a dramatic difference in my own life. When did it happen that the more affluent lost sight of how their abundance placed upon them greater responsibility for the community’s well-being? What led to their building fences and gates around their neighborhoods rather than reaching down into the valleys to lift others up? As Jesus is purported to have put it: “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded.” (St. Luke 12:48 NRSV)
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Pastoral Identity
Pastor Josh (Joshua Patty of Central Christian Church, Fairmont) revealed a clue to his identity as a preacher in his sermon this past Sunday. He said something about standing in the tradition of preachers who were biblical scholars. That is certainly true! Josh has a thorough grasp of biblical languages as well as an excellent grasp of the history and culture of biblical times. Moreover, he possesses the kind of sensitivity and creativity that is able to translate complex historical realities in ways that make them come alive today. What a thrill it is every week to hear good preaching!
Interestingly, no sooner did the phrase “biblical scholars” leave Josh’s lips than another preacher came to mind, actually the preacher who resides as the “first preacher” in my memory: Dr. William Knox. He was pastor at the UM church where I grew up, having served there from the time I was eight to twelve. While any kid of elementary age could not be expected to have precise memories of the content of a preacher’s words, let alone his character, for some reason he immediately came to mind at the mention of “biblical scholars.” Born in England in 1888, Dr. Knox was educated there, and began serving congregations there as well. Then he immigrated to the U.S. and spent the rest of his years as a pastor and District Superintendent in West Virginia Methodism.
So why was he the first to surface at the suggestion of biblical competence? Was it because of memories of his working with us as children, helping us to construct such things as magazine racks as a part of our summer Vacation Bible School experience? Perhaps. Was it because when as a college student years later, I received a complete set of the Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, which had just come off the presses, a gift out of the blue from Dr. Knox who somehow learned that I was preparing to enter the ministry? Perhaps. Was it because of that time I bumped into him at the book display at Annual Conference (back in the Sixties when Conference sessions actually were the legislative sessions they are supposed to be, where honest and lively debate for the good of church and community was allowed), and he pointed me to the writings of Paul Tillich, strongly urging me in the direction of Tillich’s bridge-building understandings? Perhaps.
Most of all, however, Dr. Knox readily emerged from memory because he was looked up to and respected as a biblical scholar. This memory of childhood may be more anecdotal than objective, but it does seem that preachers of that time who possessed skill and care had an easier time earning the admiration of both congregants and the larger community.
A related memory, this time from high school days, involves the time the principal invited another of the pastors of the church in which I was raised to deliver a talk that same pastor had given to the Rotary Club the week before. So impressed was the principal with the speech, which revolved around an Easter theme, that he cancelled classes for a school-wide assembly, just so the school’s faculty and students would get to hear it. No principal in his right mind would have the slightest inclination to host such an event today.
Indeed, things are different today. Two days before this past Christmas, another retired UM pastor and I bumped into each other at a local mall, coincidentally doing the same thing: waiting for our wives to emerge from one of the stores in those last minutes of Christmas craziness. The other pastor is highly recognized for his stellar record, both in pastoral and “superintending” roles. His service includes appointment to some of West Virginia’s most prestigious churches as well as election to both state and national high offices. The longer the two of us stood there talking, the more our “shop-talk” focused on the frustration we both admitted to over the way things seem to be going in the church today. He commented that he shutters to think what the church will be like in 20 years and was happy that he wouldn’t be around to see it. I concurred. I offered that the ministry would not be among my choices if I had to decide on a vocation today. He concurred.
Our dismay seemed to revolve around lower standards for preachers and perceived congregational (consumerist) pressure to never ruffle feathers, but to advocate always a Gospel message that is pleasingly positive and entertaining to everyone. Yeah, right! Pastors who attempt to meet such unreal expectations usually go around all the time wearing shitty grins. What’s worse, the Christian Gospel becomes something that is not Christ, nor anything like him!
One more story to underline the point: Getting ready to move from a congregation I was serving to accept new responsibilities elsewhere, I learned from a member of the PPRC (basically, the new pastor search committee) that the group instructed the District Superintendent as to what they were looking for in their new pastor. Their stated preferences were for a pastor who would be “less intellectual, less experienced, and cheaper.” How different that is from the time when congregations worked to attract the most skilled and caring ministers for their pulpits and parishes.
Forging ahead…..
Interestingly, no sooner did the phrase “biblical scholars” leave Josh’s lips than another preacher came to mind, actually the preacher who resides as the “first preacher” in my memory: Dr. William Knox. He was pastor at the UM church where I grew up, having served there from the time I was eight to twelve. While any kid of elementary age could not be expected to have precise memories of the content of a preacher’s words, let alone his character, for some reason he immediately came to mind at the mention of “biblical scholars.” Born in England in 1888, Dr. Knox was educated there, and began serving congregations there as well. Then he immigrated to the U.S. and spent the rest of his years as a pastor and District Superintendent in West Virginia Methodism.
So why was he the first to surface at the suggestion of biblical competence? Was it because of memories of his working with us as children, helping us to construct such things as magazine racks as a part of our summer Vacation Bible School experience? Perhaps. Was it because when as a college student years later, I received a complete set of the Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, which had just come off the presses, a gift out of the blue from Dr. Knox who somehow learned that I was preparing to enter the ministry? Perhaps. Was it because of that time I bumped into him at the book display at Annual Conference (back in the Sixties when Conference sessions actually were the legislative sessions they are supposed to be, where honest and lively debate for the good of church and community was allowed), and he pointed me to the writings of Paul Tillich, strongly urging me in the direction of Tillich’s bridge-building understandings? Perhaps.
Most of all, however, Dr. Knox readily emerged from memory because he was looked up to and respected as a biblical scholar. This memory of childhood may be more anecdotal than objective, but it does seem that preachers of that time who possessed skill and care had an easier time earning the admiration of both congregants and the larger community.
A related memory, this time from high school days, involves the time the principal invited another of the pastors of the church in which I was raised to deliver a talk that same pastor had given to the Rotary Club the week before. So impressed was the principal with the speech, which revolved around an Easter theme, that he cancelled classes for a school-wide assembly, just so the school’s faculty and students would get to hear it. No principal in his right mind would have the slightest inclination to host such an event today.
Indeed, things are different today. Two days before this past Christmas, another retired UM pastor and I bumped into each other at a local mall, coincidentally doing the same thing: waiting for our wives to emerge from one of the stores in those last minutes of Christmas craziness. The other pastor is highly recognized for his stellar record, both in pastoral and “superintending” roles. His service includes appointment to some of West Virginia’s most prestigious churches as well as election to both state and national high offices. The longer the two of us stood there talking, the more our “shop-talk” focused on the frustration we both admitted to over the way things seem to be going in the church today. He commented that he shutters to think what the church will be like in 20 years and was happy that he wouldn’t be around to see it. I concurred. I offered that the ministry would not be among my choices if I had to decide on a vocation today. He concurred.
Our dismay seemed to revolve around lower standards for preachers and perceived congregational (consumerist) pressure to never ruffle feathers, but to advocate always a Gospel message that is pleasingly positive and entertaining to everyone. Yeah, right! Pastors who attempt to meet such unreal expectations usually go around all the time wearing shitty grins. What’s worse, the Christian Gospel becomes something that is not Christ, nor anything like him!
One more story to underline the point: Getting ready to move from a congregation I was serving to accept new responsibilities elsewhere, I learned from a member of the PPRC (basically, the new pastor search committee) that the group instructed the District Superintendent as to what they were looking for in their new pastor. Their stated preferences were for a pastor who would be “less intellectual, less experienced, and cheaper.” How different that is from the time when congregations worked to attract the most skilled and caring ministers for their pulpits and parishes.
Forging ahead…..
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