Proms, Moms, and Graduation.

Well here it is May, time for Proms, Moms, and graduations. It is a busy and exciting time, dresses to be bought, gowns to be fitted, futures to be dreamed of.  It can also be a time of tears as parents realize their young ones are about to leave the nest.   It can also be a busy time for chaplains and pastors as we are asked to write reccomendations, speak at commencements and baccalauretes, and, unfortuantly too often deliver death notices and eulogies of young people.  That's why I am glad to be participating in this year's "Operation Prom Night."  Our fire department stages a drunk driving accident using students from the local schools.  The production includes staging at least one fatality and several critical injuries.  Weather allowiing, we even bring in the life flight chopper.  It's all very realistic, and done to show what can, and too often does happen. I pray that the young folks watching this take it to heart and understand that not only does it happen, it can even happen to them. 

I ask that if you have, or know young people headed out to celebrate their proms you make it clear that they are not to drive drunk or get in a car with a drunk driver--even if it means calling you for a ride.
As the father of two daughters, I always made it clear to them that they could call me for ride home "no questions asked."  I hope other parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and adult friends make the same offer.

As a chaplain there is no more difficult or painful task I perform than delivering death notices.  It is at its worst when it involves a young person who had their whole life ahead of them, only to be cut off by a stupid decision.  I can think of nothing worse to have to say to a mother at this time of year than; "I'm sorry, your child did not survive the accident." Young people are our legacy and our future.  It is up to us to keep them safe.  Talk to the youngsters in your life--and even more importantly, set an example for them to follow.  What we do speaks volumes more than what we say.

Blessings
ChaplainDann

Two Books.

I guess I didn't realize how long it has been since I wrote anything.  That's what happens when I allow the busy-ness of the world to get in my way.  The world not only gets in the way of this wanna-be blogger, it gets in the way of all of us.  It gets in the way of our most important relationships.  When work, volunteerism, and being entertained (if you could call it that) take precedence over time with God and time with our loved ones, it's time to reasses our values.

A far wiser pastor than I once said: "If you want to know what matters to you, look at two books; your date book and your check book."  In spite of what you may say or think is important to  you, a look at these two books will tell you what trykt important; important enought that you give it your time and money.  It can be a shock when you look at how much time and money you spend on things you claim are not important to you.

So now that I've looked, what do I do?  I know it's a nasty word, but change.  Rewrite your date book to include time with God, time with family, time with friends.  Readjust your budget so that you are spending your money where you really want to--even if it means cooking at home andd net-flixing instead of dinner and a movie.  Don't leave the cook in your family alone in the kitchen while you update your Facebook status, check email, or read my blog--go to the kitchen and talk about your day.  Cut up some carrots, take the dishes out of the dishwasher and put them away, turn of the boob-tube and spend the time together.   Instead of golf with the guys every Saturday, take a Saturday explore. Together, go somewhere you've never really got to know, and just walk around.  My wife and I spent a whole day in downtown Eugene this past month--we found shops, restauraunts, and public art we never knew existed.  It was a marvelous time together.

Read you datebook, read your checkbook, concentrate on what's really important and enjoy the life God has given you.

blessings,
Chaplain Dann

The Sound of Sound

It's been about a week since I received my hearing aids and I am still rejoicing in the many and manifold sounds of sound.  It's strange how, as our hearing or sight decline we don't realize it until we do something about it.  Like new glasses let us see things we hadn't seen for a long time, I am still hearing sounds I haven't heard for so long I'd forgotted what they sounded like:  the neighbor's wind chime, the creek behind my house babbling, the high range of music, the laughter of children playing in the park, the church bells of churches that aren't next door.  Noise is beautiful.  And while some may find it annoying, I even enjoy the noise of little children in public places.

Of course there are also times when I don't particularly want to hear what's going on--so it's also nice to be able to tune out the world and concentrate on what I want to concentrate on.  When my wife is watching a TV show I don't care about, for example, or when the people in the next booth are engaged in a profanity contest.  There are times when being hearing impaired is a blessing.  But all in all, hearing is the bigger blessing.  How many times did Jesus tell us to "listen up!"  "Listen, then, if you have ears."  "Pay attention to what I say." 

Modern hearing aids are a wonder.  They are small, discreet, effective and not uncomfortable.  At least that's true of mine.  I rejoice in the wonder of learning how to  hear all over again.  God is so good!

The Problem With Free Grace

Having been raised in the Protestant Work Ethic, the problem with free grace is just that: it's free.  There's something about free that seems to bother us; for one thing, because we've been taught there's no such thing as a free lunch, we always look for the hook.  I remember working in a leisure ministries progarm on the Michigan thumb one summer.  We were at a street fair giving away helium filled balloons with the name of our ministry on them. I was surprised at the number of parents who wouldn't let their childen take a balloon because apparantly they thoutht we would preach to them or ask for a donation, something. The thought dawned on me that if we have this much trouble giving away balloons, it's no wonder we can't give away grace.

The idea of free grace has come home to roost in my partial retirement.  This week I actually took off the days I am not supposed to work--and I found myself feeling guilty for not working.  Yes, I had accomplished all the tasks I was assigned, and then some--but somehow the idea of being paid (drawing my retirement) for not working is just so foreign to me I have trouble accepting it.  We are supposed to work for what we get--or so I've been taught, and I'm not working for this.

Yes, I know it's supposed to be the reward for all the work I've done in the past; but somehow that just doesn't fly.  I've been working for 47 plus years, and I guess I just can't quite get it out of my system.
I am beginning to see why parents had trouble with free balloons, and why free grace can be so hard to give away.  There is something in us that wants to earn, or deserve, what we have--and when we feel we have neither earned nor deserved it, it's almost like stealing it.  Let's face it, even Christmas and birthday gifts are expected to be reciprocal.  What do we give to deserve God's grace?  Nothing.  It's hard to accept, harder still to understand, but that's simply the way it is.  God loves us not because of who or what we are, but simply because we are.  Like drawing my retirement pension, I guess I just have to learn to be blessed with it. 

Blessings to you.
ChaplainDann

Going Home

Gee, hard to believe it's been over a week since I wrote anything; of course I was away for 6 days so that may account for it.
I love to travel.  Seeing new places and new things, meeting new people and trying new ways and new foods is a joy of my life.  But it's also great to be back home again.   Which brings us to the question: "were is home."  Usually when people ask this they mean, "where do you live, now?"  But it can mean, where were you born?  Where did you grow up?  or even, "Where does your heart consider home?"  And for me, I think, that's really where home is.   As an itinerant United Methodist Elder, I have lived in 5 different towns in 2 states, prior to that I had moved 14 times in three states.  So where is home?  For most of my life I have considered home the place I came back to at night--wherever we lived at that particular time.  But now, as I retire, and look to settling down in one place for the rest of my life, "Home" takes on a different meaning.

To some extent, "Home" is where family and friends are, where we gather wilth our loved ones to celebrate the sacred and meaningful events of our lives--births, marriages, graduations, holidays, and so forth.  This is why the railways and airlines are jammed at Thanksgiving and Christmas.  But I think 'Home" is more than that.  "Home" is that place to which we are emotionally attatched by bonds of love, friendship, and a shared history.  That's why, as the old saying goes, "It takes a heap of living to make a house a home."

As Fay and I spend the next year and a half transitioning from active ministry to retirement, and moving into our new house, we will be saying farewell to friends we have come to know and love--leaving behind familiar restaurautnts, stores, movie houses, and other services: But we will also be saying "hello" to new friends, beginning a new shared history in a new place, learning new restauraunts, stores, campgrounds, fishing holes, golf courses, movie houses and so forth.  It is, indeed, and exciting journey--but life is change and change is live.


Blessings
ChaplainDann

Food for Thought

Every year on my birthday, in October, my wife prepares "The Coffee Cake."  This was the breakfast my mother was preparing when I interrupted her with the announcement that I was ready to be born.  As a child, every year my mother would make "The Coffee Cake" on my birthday. Even after I left home, she continued the tradition. She also made sure my wife had the recipe (it's on the Bisquick box) and Fay has  continued the tradition.  So  for 61 of my 64 birthdays I have enjoyed this special meal.

Did you ever notice how many of our family and public celebrations center around food?  Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years (at our house it's take out Chinese on New Year's Eve), Super Bowl Sunday, St Patrick's Day, Shrove Tuesday, the 4th of July and on and on.  Food is central to our celebrations.  When I was in Africa and spoke at a small country church it was expected that I would stay and break bread with the elders of the congregation. 

Yes, food is central to our shared celebrations.  Unfortunately, what also seems central, and totally unnecessary, is gluttony.  It is not necessary to eat half a 20 pound turkey by yourself to prove you are thankful.  8 bratwursts will not help your team win the Super Bowl.  Two pounds of strawberry shortcake don't make you any more patriotic than the person who only ate 1 six ounce serving.  The only thing gluttony makes you is bigger.

For the Israelites food was also central--hence, when God visited Abraham, (Gen 18:6) Abraham hurried into the tent and said to Sarah, "Quick, take a sack of your best flour, and bake some bread."(Gen 18:7) Then he ran to the herd and picked out a calf that was tender and fat, and gave it to a servant, who hurried to get it ready.(Gen 18:8)
the Passover, and Holy Communion are built around a meal.  When the prodigal father welcomed home his wayward son, they killed the fatted calf. 

In a nation that has the capacity to feed the world, gluttony and the waste of food are shameful. When I was about 8 years old, my mother would tell me to eat everything on my plate because children in China were starving.  I have no idea how my eating everything on my plate would help hungry kids across the Pacific, but it is what I was told.  One night my mother put something in front of me that I found particularly odious.  When I didn't eat it she again reminded me of the starving children in China.  "Well, as far as I'm concerned they can have this garbage" I retorted.

My father started to come out of his chair, but my mother stopped him.  "OK," she said, "That's just what we'll do."  When she serve dessert, there was none for Danny.  the next morning I came into the kitchen for breakfast.  There were hot cakes, bacon, syrup, eggs, and milk for everyone except Danny.  As I left the house for school there were only four lunches on the counter: none for Danny.  But I wasn't worried, all I had to do was tell the teacher I forgot my lunch and they'd let me charge a school lunch--of course my mother knew that and was a step ahead of me.  She called the school and told them what she was doing. (Today she would be arrested for child neglect, but back then it was called"experiential education.")  I didn't get a lunch that day.  For Dinner that night Mother cooked my favorite meal--roast beef with Yorkshire Pudding.  I got a scoop of rice.  No soy sauce, no veggies, no meat, just plain rice.
After dinner my mother wrote a check to the church's fund for international hunger in the amount it would have cost to feed me for a day.  I was given the check and told to put it in the offering plate.

Not only did I never complain about my mother's cooking again, I learned a whole new appreciation for food.  Food, like everything else we have, is a gift from God to be used wisely and shared generously.

Eat well, share generously, and be blessed.
ChaplainDann He took some cream, some milk, and the meat, and set the food before the men. There under the tree he served them himself, and they ate.

How Long?

Who woulda thought that this blogging would turn out to be almost as hard as writing a sermon?--first a subject must be selected, thoughts organized, and the post written.  I'm now sure this will not be an everyday event, but I will try to come up with some words of wisdom--or at least some words--several times a week.

Today is Martin Luther King Day.  It's also, I believer, the anniversary of JFK's innaugural "Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country" speech.  How appropraite that both fall on the same day this year.  Two great leaders, both assasinatated for what they believed; both of who changed the world for the better.  The Tuscon shooting was not a new event, nor is the vitriotic speech that surrounds it.  How sad  that 150 years after Lincoln, 50 years after Kennedy, 40 some years after King, and 2000 years after Jesus, we still haven't learned to disagree peacefully.  That there will always be disagreements is a given: that we must resort to violence to solve them is only a sign of our weakness.  One of my favorite quotations is from "The Foundation Trilogy" by Assimov: "Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent."  I wonder when the human race will develop competence?  Even the protests in Tunisia that ousted a dictator have turned to riots and looting.

Yesterday in worship we sang "Lead On O King Eternal."  I especially appreciate the line:
"For not with swords loud clashing, nor roll of stirring drums;
with deeds of love and mercy, the heavenly kingdom comes."

How long will it be before the kingdom comes?  How long before schools have plenty of money and the Air Force holds a bake sale to buy a bomber?  How long before our tanks are forged into tractors?  How long before we finally learn (in the words of POGO) "We have met the enemy, and it is us."

Peace and blessings
ChaplainDann