Tag: life lessons

Contentment in Any Role

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values, Gratitude, purpose

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts…”

Those lines from Shakespeare’s “Mid Summer Night’s Dream” have been floating around in my head for quite some time. But I did not remember until I looked up the quote that it is the beginning of a monologue about the stages of life from infancy to death.

Being 78 and a cancer patient I have spent more time than I like thinking about my mortality, and that whole monologue that describes 7 stages of life fits right into that conversation in my head.

The questions I want to ask about that metaphor are two: What do you do or how do you cope when you don’t get the part you really want? And what about the times you get stuck with a part in the play of life that you really don’t want?

I’m guessing we’ve all been in both of those situations. When I was a sophomore in college a young woman I had been in a serious relationship for almost two years informed me I was no longer needed in the play of her life. She had a good reason, and I appreciated her sharing it with me. I was still devastated, but she helped me understand the break up wasn’t just about me personally; but about a career path I had chosen that she wanted no part of.

Earlier that year I had decided to switch majors from engineering to philosophy in preparation for going on to seminary after college. In other words I had opted for a very different part in a totally different play, and she did not want to play the role of a pastor’s wife. There are very good reasons to say no to what can be a very challenging unpaid, high expectations job, and I understand that better now than I did way back then. I also understand that I undoubtedly made the situation worse by making that important career decision without ever discussing it with her. Yes, I was still working from an old script where wives are subservient to their husbands.

The second half of the 20th century was a confusing time to be playing a romantic role. The old scripts of how men and women related were being thrown out, and new ones were still being written. Societal norms about sex, race, war, and peace were all in a state of flux. Life was like improv theater – we were all making it up on the fly.

That flux had major impact on the job market as well. We didn’t call it DEI back then, but in liberal circles where I played my roles as student and pastor and teacher the civil rights and women’s rights movements spurred efforts to increase diversity in the workplace and on faculties. As a white male that was a personal disadvantage to me. I had my heart set on a particular professorship when I finished my doctoral work and thought I had a good shot at it. I had been teaching at this school as an adjunct professor for two years, and my student evaluations were excellent.

Little did I know that the position had already been promised to a black woman who had taught there before me as an adjunct and left to do her PhD. I was disappointed, especially since I had turned down a role as a pastor at a church I had always admired earlier that year. Sometimes we don’t get to play the part we want or even be in that particular play, but in this case I did understand and agreed with the school’s priority on building a more diverse faculty. When I had been a student there 20 years earlier the entire faculty and administration was white and male, and the student body was 98% the same.

But to circle back to Shakespeare’s take on the stages of life as the roles we play from birth to death, I find his list rather limiting. He spends little time on the variety of parts we might play in adulthood, and I realize that life expectancy back then was much shorter than it is today. With advances in health care a productive adult life can last 50 or 60 years and may include several different careers, sometimes simultaneously.

I was a pastor, a teacher, and a university administrator in a period of 38 years of full time employment, and then spent 11 years in retirement doing all of those things on a part-time basis. But concurrent with those roles I was also a son, husband, father, brother, author, golfer, skier, softball player tennis player, runner, and friend.

But here’s my existential question for this stage I am acting on just now. In the last 8 months I have played parts I didn’t want, namely icu patient, cancer patient, and one dealing with a whole host of other old age maladies. What do we do when life throws us a curve and we find ourselves playing parts in our life drama that we never auditioned for? As I told my son a few months ago — I liked the roles I played in my 40’s and 50’s a whole lot better than this role as a senior citizen.

I can’t think about this dilemma without remembering St. Paul who had some affliction he calls “a thorn in the flesh.” We don’t know what the thorn was, but here is what Paul says about it: “Therefore, to keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” (II Corinthians 12:7-9)

I don’t know about you, but if I were in Paul’s situation I wouldn’t be too thrilled with that answer. But God’s ways are not our ways, and being a man of great faith Paul was able to make peace with that thorn. He writes in Philippians 4:11, “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.” I’m not there yet with the parts I am playing in this stage of my life.

I am not content with my chronic pain. I am not content giving up most of the activities I used to enjoy. I am not content watching the country I love being destroyed by wanna be dictators and oligarchs. I am very uncontent to watch God’s beautiful creation on earth being destroyed by corporate greed that values short term profits over long term preservation of the planet.

Given all those things that disturb my contentment and peace which are important I have to realize that the stress they create in me are not healthy and in fact make me less able to respond to any of them. In spite of all the problems in our nation and the world there is still great beauty and kindness if I shift my attention to observe them and express gratitude for them. And that’s the point of Paul’s wise words just before the ones about being content. And therein lies the secret to his peace and contentment.

Here is what he says: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. As for the things that you have learned and received and heard and noticed in me, do them, and the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:8-9)

That’s a pretty good script to play from at any age and on any stage. Break a leg.

A Long Overdue Apology

by Steve Harsh, posted in memoir, Women's Rights

Is there a statute of limitations on dumb stuff one did way back in high school? I bet the vast majority of us would vote for an amendment to that effect if we had the chance. I am going to a high school reunion this weekend – one with a ridiculously big number attached to it. One of the great things about growing up in the 1960’s is that we didn’t have cell phones and social media to record our dumb stuff for posterity. But that doesn’t mean those embarrassing incidents aren’t tucked away somewhere in the recesses of our memories.

As I was thinking about our upcoming reunion a long-forgotten memory from the spring of my sophomore year popped into my consciousness and has been lurking around in there for several weeks now. And what’s more troubling than the memory is the fact that it never dawned on me for over 60 years how badly I behaved on a spring night in 1962.

I’m talking almost Donald Trump badly. No, I didn’t grab my date by any body part, and I didn’t assault her; but I did treat her very disrespectfully. It is painful even now to relive that night, but here’s the abridged version. I had a date with one of the smartest and nicest girls in my high school class. It was our first date, and you will soon see why it was the last.

I was still not even old enough to drive; so we double-dated with a friend of mine who was a senior. He had been going steady with a freshman girl for some time, and the four of us went to a party together. I’ll call him Bill to protect the innocent. Bill and I were both in a local Boy Scout troop, and I think the party we went to may have been one held by our troop to celebrate something which I do not recall.

So here’s the short and dirty – Bill’s date at some point, for reasons I will never understand, started flirting with me, and I fell for her charms like a ton of bricks. I proceeded to ignore my date for the rest of the evening to talk and flirt with my good friend’s steady girl. I don’t know how many points of the Scout Law I broke that night, but trustworthy, loyal, courteous, and kind certainly went out the window.

I have no memory of how that disastrous date ended. I don’t know why my date or Bill didn’t smack me silly. My only consolation is that my date and Bill ended up dating each other for a long time, much longer than my “relationship” lasted with the flirt. They got a much better deal from that double date than I did. The flirt dropped me a few weeks later in a much more unceremonious way than she did Bill. So, I got my just desserts.

But the most painful part of the memory is that I realized that I repeated similar kinds of disrespectful behavior in several other relationships with women throughout much of my adult life. I’m grateful that I learned to do better in mid-life; just wish it had been sooner rather than later.

But here’s my immediate dilemma. I will likely see the woman who was my date that night at our upcoming reunion. Should I apologize to her after all these years? I hope she has long since forgotten what a jerk I was, but I know I may feel more at peace if I unburden my conscience. What I wonder is if my apologizing is also the right thing to do for her? I welcome advice, especially from my female readers.

Jesus and Stages of Grief

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Faith Development

As we made our way through the passion story of Holy Week this year it occurred to me that the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ last week are an interesting case study in the classic stages of grief proposed by Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross in her 1969 book “On Death and Dying.”

The stages do not occur in a linear order but ebb and flow like the phases of the moon, and we always need to remind ourselves that the Gospels are theological works, not historical biography; but given that, it strikes me that we can learn about the universal human experience of grief by studying what the Gospel writers tell us about the final days of Jesus’ earthly life.

Kubler-Ross’ stages include anger and depression which are often two sides of the same emotion – one expressed outwardly and the other turned in upon oneself. Because of that anger is easier to identify and that is true with Jesus also. The cleansing of the temple which is described in all four Gospels is one of the few times we ever see Jesus angry. He sometimes is verbally angry with the Scribes and Pharisees, but when he overturns tables and drives the money changers out of the temple with a whip that is the rare incident where Jesus is obviously and physically very angry.

Another scene which could be motivated by either anger or depression would be one of the “last words” from the cross where Jesus cries out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” Hearing the tone of voice and seeing Jesus’ body language when he uttered these words might help us better understand his mental state at the time, but both Matthew 27 and Mark 15 describe his tone as “crying out with a loud voice,” and that is the best evidence we have.

Depression can certainly not be diagnosed from a few 3rd person accounts of Jesus’ actions, but the three incidents that come to mind when I think about that stage of grief are when Jesus weeps over the death of his friend Lazarus, when he weeps over Jerusalem and says, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.  For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.” (Luke 19:42-44). And perhaps in all four Gospels where Jesus refuses to answer any questions in his trials before Pilate, Herod, and the Chief Priests. Those incidents however I interpret more as a strong, silent resistance to the unjust power of oppression rather than depression or resignation.

The stage of grief that stymies me when it comes to Jesus is denial. If you readers have ideas about this one I would love to hear them, but for now I cannot think of examples of times where I see Jesus being in denial about his fate. He sets his face toward Jerusalem in spite of the protestations of his disciples. He stages a protest entrance into Jerusalem riding on a humble donkey, and he returns daily to teach and heal in Jerusalem that last week and to celebrate the Passover, all of which seem like acts of faithful determination and not ones of denial in any form.

The stage of bargaining seems to me to only appear in the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus says, “If this cup can pass from me, please make it so,” but those words are immediately followed by “But not my will but yours be done,” which move us toward the final stage of acceptance.

It should come as no surprise that examples of acceptance are easier to find with Jesus. When Peter pulls out his sword to resist the soldiers in the garden Jesus sternly tells him to put it away. And then on the cross where it would require the greatest amount of acceptance and courage, at least 4 of the recorded “seven last words” reflect the confidence that only comes with acceptance of death as the final stage of human life.

Those four include Jesus commending his mother into the care of one of his disciples, assuring the repentant thief that he will be with Jesus in paradise that very day, commending his spirit into the hands of God, and finally saying “It is finished.” I suppose one could also make a case that forgiving his executioners is also an act of acceptance, but that amazing act of grace really defies categorization.

Grief is a very complicated emotional process, and the Kubler-Ross stages are one very helpful lens through which to understand it. I find it comforting to find connections between my own experiences of grief and those of the incarnate life of God in Jesus. For me sharing the human condition of these grief stages with Jesus affirms the reality of his humanity and also the hope for achieving some degree of acceptance of my own mortality that he exemplifies for us.

I welcome your comments and insights on any of the above.

I Don’t Care Who Started It…

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you: Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” Jesus (Matthew 5:38-39)

I wish my mother were still alive, for a lot of reasons. Right now as I survey the current mess in the Middle East I wish she were here so she could sit down with Prime Minister Netanyahu and the Supreme Ruler of Iran and talk some sense into them.

My mom only had a high school education, but she had more practical wisdom than most of the “leaders” of the world when it came to resolving conflict. I think a lot of her wisdom came from growing up with 5 younger brothers.

I didn’t appreciate her wisdom as a kid; so I hope wherever she is she can hear my belated praise for the way she dealt with conflicts between me and my two younger sisters. Invariably when two or all three of us got into a squabble she would intervene and one or more of us would say, “She started it!” Or “he started it,” and Mom would just shake her head and say, “I don’t care who started it; I just want to know who’s going to end it.”

When it comes to the centuries-old animosity between Israel and her neighbors there is no way to determine who really started it because it’s been going on forever with first one side and then the other retaliating for some offense by the other.

And that’s where those troublesome verses from the Sermon on the Mount about turning the other cheek come into play. No one can take that advice literally and give it any practical consideration, but that isn’t the point of what Jesus was saying. He was saying “I don’t care who started this, but what matters is who has the courage to stop it?”

Violence begets more and often worse violence. It is a vicious cycle that only stops when someone says “enough” and refuses to retaliate.

In the current crisis the stakes could hardly be higher. I am not justifying the strike Israel made on the Iranian embassy in Syria nor the massive attack Iran launched in response on Saturday night. If allowed to continue to escalate this affair could engulf all of us in World War III, and no one wants that. Or do they?

The scariest part of this scenario is that there are millions of misguided and biblically illiterate “Christians” who are indeed rooting for this mess to turn into Armageddon. They falsely believe such a cosmic battle between good and evil will usher in the second coming of Christ and solve all the problems we humans are unwilling to solve for ourselves.

President Biden has come under criticism for urging Israel to exercise restraint, i.e. to stop or slow down the cycle of violence and destruction by refusing to retaliate. I believe Biden’s calming influence, while it likely will go unheeded, is exactly what this delicate situation calls for.

I shudder to think where the world would be this very day if someone with a purely transactional mentality like Donald Trump were sitting in the Oval Office just now. Trump is on record as saying during the 2016 campaign that his favorite Bible verse is “And eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.” Unfortunately his biblical education must have stopped in Leviticus which Jesus clearly turns upside down in the Sermon on the Mount.

Is turning the other cheek or stopping the cycle of retaliation hopelessly naive? Maybe, but it sure beats the heck out of the endless, vicious cycle of violence.

Groundhog Day in Congress

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Politics, Government Reform, Uncategorized

Those of us who live in Jim Jordan’s home district know that his only claim to fame is that he was a champion high school and college wrestler. While I admire the discipline and determination it takes to excel in wrestling, I would l like to point out that wrestling is not a team sport. Democracy, on the other hand, is the ultimate team sport. It requires an ability to collaborate and compromise, skills which Mr. Jordan did not have to learn on the wrestling mat and which are apparently not even in his vocabulary.

For the Congressional GOP to continue to waste time by voting in Groundhog Day fashion for the same unqualified candidate is not only foolish, it is very dangerous. Our adversaries in Tehran, Moscow, and Beijing are drooling in joy over the paralysis of our government. We are the laughing stock of the world and proof to other nations that democracy doesn’t work.

Are there not enough moderate members of Congress on both sides of the aisle to join forces as adults and agree on an acceptable bi-partisan candidate to lead the House in these critical times? We need some profiles in courage who will put personal power and party loyalty aside for the greater good of our nation and world. And we need it now!

Ode to My Beloved Bikes

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, self-care

In the words of that great philosopher, Kenny Rogers, you gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em and know when to walk away while you still can. I needed that wisdom this week.

I made a good but sad and hard decision to give up yet another activity I have enjoyed for about 70 years. I don’t remember exactly when I first experienced the joy of riding a two-wheel bike without training wheels, but I would guess I was 6 or 7. That had to be one of the first liberating rites of passage right up there with learning to walk and potty training.

My bike riding for the next 65 years was pretty routine. And then about four years ago I bought a step-through bike, aka a girl’s bike, because I was having trouble with my balance swinging my leg over the cross bar of my 30 plus year-old Schwinn that my father-in-law had willed to me when he could no longer ride. Almost immediately I discovered that my balance issues had more to do with my neuropathy than the kind of bike I was riding. I was still able to ride for awhile in spite of a few minor low-speed falls that happened while starting and stopping. No injuries ensued, but I gradually gave up trying to ride.

A few weeks ago I went into a bike shop in search of adult training wheels to see if I could still ride some with that kind of help. Talk about the circle of life!!! But a kind salesperson offered me an alternative that seemed to be a way out of that circle. He had me try an electric bike with a small motor which would give me a boost at start up where I had the most trouble getting up enough speed to establish my balance.

After test riding the e-bike (pictured above) in the store’s parking lot I was sold and brought it home on a trial basis. Unfortunately I discovered over the last two weeks that my balance and reflexes just aren’t up to learning the new skills required to master the e-bike. I had a couple minor falls on it, again miraculously without damaging myself or the bike. The last fall was on a short trip down our driveway to get our mail, and I sadly concluded it just isn’t worth the risk of a major injury to keep trying.

So with a heavy heart I asked my wife to help me load the bike in my SUV and returned it to the store. In addition to the sadness of adding bike riding to my growing list of things I used to be able to do, I’ve been processing how to gracefully surrender to the realities of aging without totally giving up on living.

That task is a work in progress, but I believe a piece of it is to be grateful for all the decades of good memories that bike riding has provided for me.   Many of those memories are from the years before I could drive when my bike gave me the first taste of freedom to take myself to the neighborhood grocery store for a pop cycle or candy bar.  It was only a block away, but the longest journey starts with a short one.  That 1-speed (probably also a Schwinn) took me to Little League practice, the community swimming pool, and later every morning for a year to deliver newspapers clear on the other side of our small town.  OK, it was only two miles, but on frigid January mornings at 6 a.m. in northwest Ohio if felt like 20!

The summer I was 15 my good buddy Denny Dafler and I road 200 miles on six 25-mile trips and a 50 to earn our cycling merit badges for Boy Scouts. That was also the summer of my first great love, and she lived 5 miles out in the country. My legs were never in better shape than the summer of 1962.

As an adult my biking has been more relaxed rides of 5-10 miles on bike trails near home—good exercise and sometimes a therapeutic way to burn off frustration or other unresolved emotions. My exercise bike is a poor substitute from feeling the wind of the road in my face, but it is safer and more age appropriate at this stage of my life, and no helmet hair results either.

Farewell my biking self.  Thanks for the memories.  

Try this in a small town

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith Development

“When he (Jesus) came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him.” (Luke 4:16-17)

All the discussion of country singer Jason Aldean ’s song, “Try That in a Small Town” reminded me of Jesus’ return to preach in the small town where he grew up. I flunked my first sermon in seminary preaching class, but Jesus got a much harsher response to his first message that day in Nazareth. Luke tells us Jesus read from the prophet Isaiah, and that part of his Sabbath was very well received. Verse 11 says, “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.”

But then Jesus goes ahead and interprets the text and tells his audience that the good news he brings to the captives, the blind and the oppressed is not just for them but for all of God’s children with examples of how the prophets Elijah and Elisha went specifically to minister to gentiles in Sidon and Syria instead of to those in Israel. And just like that the crowd does a 180 and turns on him. “When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage.” (Verse 28). And where the Gospels of Mark and Matthew just have Jesus leaving town at that point, Luke adds these words: “They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.” (Vss. 29-30)

I did a lot of research in graduate school on such negative reaction to public speaking and wrote a paper I titled “They Shoot Prophets Don’t They?” I had a personal interest in that topic having come of age in the last turbulence in American history which saw the assassinations of the two Kennedy brothers and Dr. King, all within a five year period. In my research, I became impressed with the work of Lawrence Kohlberg on moral development and the role of cognitive dissonance in persuasive communication. To my great pleasure that very research was mentioned by one of my favorite author’s, Father Richard Rohr, in his book, “Everything Belongs,” which I just happened to be listening to on the very day I started thinking about this topic again. I am humbled and thrilled that Fr. Rohr’s use of Kohlberg’s theory of moral development is almost verbatim what I wrote about that research in my Ph.D. dissertation 40 years ago. The application of Kohlberg’s theories about how to effectively communicate with people who have very different moral and ethical values formed the heart of my own theory of preaching which I shared with seminary students in preaching classes over a 20 year period from 1991-2012.

I believe that theory can help us understand and bridge some of the vast divide we are experiencing in our country today. The country song controversy is very illustrative of how volatile and dangerous that divide is and has been throughout American history. I grew up in a small town and can identify with the good, bad, and ugly aspects of what that experience was and still is like. There were many positive aspects to spending the first 20 years of my life in Wapakoneta, Ohio, a small, county-seat town in very rural, very white, and very conservative northwestern Ohio. It was a very safe place where kids were free to roam all over town on our bikes. Everyone knew everyone else; so people looked out for each other’s kids. I am grateful for that age of innocence and the freedom it provided for me to enjoy a carefree childhood and adolescence.

But I am also angry about the flip side of that experience. We didn’t know what we didn’t know about the broader world outside our comfort zone. Our fathers and uncles who were survivors of the Great Depression and/or veterans of World War II certainly knew more than they shared with us about issues of race and political divisions, at least in my family. All I remember being told about why there were no people of color in our town is that “we aren’t prejudiced; those people just don’t choose to live here.” It turns out there was good reason for that. I learned many years later that one of my great uncles was a leader in the local chapter of the KKK, and just this week heard from a high school classmate that for some time there was a sign outside our town that said something to the effect “Get Your Black Ass Out of Town Before Dark.” That’s the ugly kind of small town life Aldean certainly alludes to in his song and accompanying video.

One major factor in the political chasm threatening our democracy is the rural-urban divide Aldean sings about. The life experience of small town and rural people in this country is so different from urban life that it is like living in two different countries. I addressed some of that in my post on July 18, “Culture War Games While the Planet Burns,” but I want to focus here on how to approach that reality in a constructive way. In an oversimplified description, Kohlberg’s theory of moral development I mentioned above is that there are 6 stages of moral development numbered 1-6. Stage 1 is a very self-centered stage we all start out in because that kind of selfishness is necessary for infants to survive. People in stage 1 say what is morally good is whatever is good for me. Stage 6 is the other extreme where morality is defined in a universal way to mean that moral goodness is determined by what is good for everyone and for the whole world/universe. Only people like Jesus, Mohammad, Gandhi, Mother Teresa, and Dr. King ever come close to stage 6.

Most people, and this is just fact, not judgment, never grow beyond a stage 3 or 4 in moral development, and that’s the problem prophets like Jesus have in small towns like Nazareth. Kohlberg’s research found that when there is a gap of 2 stages or greater in moral development between a speaker and an audience there is a major breakdown in communication. That gap creates so much cognitive dissonance, which is the perception of contradictory information and the mental stress it causes, that we consistency-loving humans will do whatever we can to reduce that stress. That often means simply ignoring the one causing the cognitive dissonance or, as the gap widens, arguing, disparaging or insulting the speaker, and ultimately, if the gap is too great either driving the speaker out of town as happens to Jesus, or in the most tragic situations actually killing him or her, which again finally happens to Jesus on the cross.

The major lesson for us Americans right now is to turn down the heat in our political discourse by bridging the gaps in our cultural, moral, worldviews. Kohlberg concludes that we cannot communicate with each other until the gap between us is one stage of moral development or less. In other words a speaker who is a stage 4 trying to communicate with a stage 2 or 3 person must meet that person where he or she is and communicate respectfully with that person in ways that are not threatening to them. We must find common ground to stand on before we can hope to understand one another. For example, all humans have a basic need for what Abraham Maslow calls psychological and physical security and safety. People in small towns and big cities all share that need, and to understand that we all express that need in different ways goes a long way toward bridging our differences on other values and beliefs. And when our feeling of safety is threatened by people who look, act, and think differently than we do, we need to resist the temptation to attack, blame, ridicule, or judge them. The Golden Rule to treat others as we want to be treated is always a good first step in building a bridge or tearing down a wall that separates us from others.

Unfortunately it seems our human instinct is to do just the opposite when confronted with the discomfort of cognitive dissonance. Social media is full of memes these days making fun of small town people and calling each other names instead of trying to understand where others are coming from. We live in very scary times and most of us don’t know how to express that fear. To do so makes us feel vulnerable and cowardly. It’s much easier and more fun to attack those we disagree with, but it only turns up the heat and the fear on both sides.

I had a very simple example of a change of just one word making a huge difference just last week. I try to avoid debates on social media because they are often unproductive and can seem endless in their back and forth nature. I expressed that reluctance to a friend that I felt a need to respond to by saying that I hate “arguing.” Her very helpful response to me was, “This is not an argument, it’s a discussion.” That one shift in perspective moved the conversation from a win-lose situation to a productive exploration of where we could find common ground.

We need more discussion and less arguing, more willingness to meet others where they are in a spirit of understanding. From there we can both learn and grow from each other and help each other move to a higher stage of moral development where we all strive to do what is best for everyone. The alternative is to end up like “The two cats of Kilkenny. Each thought there was one cat too many. So they fought and they fit; they clawed and they bit, until except for their nails and the tips of their tails, instead of two cats there weren’t any.”

Mid-Year Reflections on Gratitude

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Values, self-care, spiritual discipline

Having just passed the mid-point of 2023 this seems like a good time to reflect back on goals and intentions I had for this year when it was in its infancy. Among the therapeutic values of blogging or journaling is the ability to look back at what I was thinking and writing about at some point in the past. When I did that recently I was reminded that a key goal I had for myself in January was to practice gratitude.

I must confess I have not done well with that goal and had mostly forgotten about it, as often happens with New Year’s resolutions. Rereading the two posts I wrote about practicing gratitude has been a wonderful reminder of several really good ideas from other people that I wrote about there, including my mentor Dr. Bill Brown, Robert Fulghum, dear friends Jean and Katy Wright, Dr. Brene Brown, Kate Bowler, and Kelly Corrigan. (I am quite proud of the two posts I wrote back in January and really grateful for all the wisdom I borrowed from those friends and scholars.)

So the question now is how do I stay focused on that wisdom and not let it slip again into that vast pool of great ideas I enjoy pondering but fail to integrate into my daily life? If I had a magic potion to make that happen I would gladly share it, but as I said in January gratitude like any skill requires the hard work of practice. Wishing doesn’t make it so or I would be the most grateful, joyful person around, and my dear wife can tell you that unfortunately is not the case.

Physical exercise is a good analogy for regular practice. During the pandemic I started an exercise program of swimming 2-3 times per week, and worked my way up to being able to swim a half mile. I kept that routine up until some health issues and travel caused me to get out of the habit earlier this year. I have just gotten back in the pool a few times in the last 3 weeks, including a 350 yard swim today. Swimming is great exercise because it works the whole body, is aerobic, and provides a quiet, meditative respite from other cares and concerns. But having said that, I must add that I am totally wiped out for the rest of the day after just 18 minutes in the pool. It would be easy to get discouraged about that, but I know from experience it takes time to rebuild my endurance.

Gratitude practice is a similar challenge. It requires the discipline and focus to consciously practice paying attention to all the blessings I am privileged to enjoy. I can choose to take time during the day, especially first thing in the morning and at bedtime, to call to mind what I am truly grateful for, even if I forget. I can give thanks for the beautiful home and yard I am privileged to occupy and not just complain about the work and expense it takes to do so. I can choose to be grateful for all the activities I can still do instead of regretting the ones I have had to give up. I can remind myself how fortunate I am to live in a peaceful place free from violence and war and so far immune from the worst ravages of extreme weather caused by climate change.

But this is not an either-or Pollyanna approach to life that ignores the injustices and suffering of others my community or world. I have used the word “privileged” several times above intentionally. I need to remind myself that I am truly privileged in so many ways largely to the accident of birth. And with that privilege comes the responsibility to use that privilege to do whatever I can to do what the prophet Micah tells us God requires of all of us, “To do justice, love mercy, and to walk humbly (gratefully) with God.”

Ukraine: Reaping the Whirlwind and Beyond

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Politics, Faith Development, hope

“Those who have sown the wind will reap the whirlwind.” Hosea 8:7.

The prophet Hosea wrote those wise words over 2700 years ago predicting the fall of the Northern Kingdom of Israel to Assyria. The wind they had sown in that case was putting their trust in foreign alliances instead of God.

Fast forward to 2022 CE to a confrontation between Vladimir Putin and the western world.  The civilized world is appalled at the brutal and indiscriminate slaughter of innocent civilians by the Russian dictator. There are many legitimate arguments being made comparing this invasion to Hitler’s takeover of Eastern Europe 80 years ago.

President Biden and the NATO allies are very reluctant to confront Putin militarily or in any way that Putin might construe as an affront to his fragile ego. The comparison of this “inaction” to British Prime Minister Chamberlain’s failed appeasement of Hitler in the run up to World War II is somewhat persuasive, but there is one huge difference. Hitler didn’t have nukes. Putin does, lots of them, and he seems unhinged enough to use them.

In other words, we sowed the atomic wind on Hiroshima and Nagasaki 80 years ago and launched a suicidal arms race with the ever so apt strategy named MAD (mutually assured destruction). Now we are reaping the whirlwind of birthing the nuclear arms race. Our ability to stop Putin’s massacre of Ukrainians is hamstrung by the fear of the very nuclear arms race we invented.

I have no solution to this conundrum. Even though I try to be a pacifist, if there was a way to blow Putin to kingdom come without escalating this whole mess I’d be all for it. No one wants to ignite WW III because we know there will be no WW IV. In my darker days, and there are more and more lately, I am beginning to believe that between humanity’s obsession with violence and our greed that fuels climate change the human race is doomed.

But here’s the thing, that is not as hopeless or as fatalistic as it sounds. Because the God of the entire universe is so much more, well, cosmic than anything our puny little planet amounts to that the loss of this 3rd rock from the sun would barely be a blip on the cosmic screen. That is a harsh pill to swallow for those of us who think we are created in God’s image, a little less than the angels (Psalm 8:5)! Ever since Galileo and Copernicus dared to question the anthropocentric belief that the earth was the center of the universe our knowledge of the infinite nature of space has made us more and more humble, or should have.

I hope and pray I am wrong about the future of humankind. At my age it doesn’t really matter much to me personally, but it makes me sick to think of that bleak future I’m leaving to my kids and grandkids. Is there still hope for humans to learn to live in peace with one another? Could the threat of climate change provide motivation for humans to finally band together to fight a common foe instead of each other? Based on our past track record I don’t see it happening. If the Holocaust, Hiroshima, and Nagasaki didn’t cure our warring madness, what will?

[Note: This post originally ended right here, but about 5 minutes after I posted it I heard that still small voice saying, “That’s not the end of the story.” So I unposted it and added the following.]

Here’s the good news—the whirlwind doesn’t get the last word. The name “Hosea” means “salvation.” And even though Hosea proclaims Yahweh’s anger at Israel he also shares God’s compassionate nature for the Souther Kingdom, Judah.

“But I will have pity on the house of Judah, and I will save them by the Lord their God; (1:7a). But listen to the rest of that sentence: “I will not save them by bow, or by sword, or by war, or by horses, or by horsemen.”(7b). God’s salvation does not come by instruments of death and destruction. Those ways are anathema to the One who dreams of a day when swords are beaten into plowshares, spears into pruning hooks, and the ways of war are learned no more. (Isaiah 2:4)

The biblical narrative has rightly been called the salvation history of humankind. How many times do the chosen people break their covenant with God? How many times is Jerusalem leveled like one of the horrendous images we have from Ukraine? Pick a number, any number, say x. And whatever number we pick the answer to the next question, how many times does God redeem her people, is x + 1.

Even as he proclaims judgment on Israel’s unfaithfulness just three verses later Hosea assures his readers that the alienation and suffering is not the final word.

“Yet the number of the people of Israel shall be like the sand of the sea, which can be neither measured nor numbered; and in the place where it was said to them, “You are not my people,” it shall be said to them, “Children of the living God.” (Hosea 1:10)

What does this say to our broken, fearful world today? We know not when, where, how or even why God will forgive humankind’s unfaithfulness, but in God’s good time, not ours, it will be done. Even if we destroy ourselves and this precious earth God has entrusted into our care, we and all of creation will live and move and have our being eternally in the cosmic source of all Being. Because we put our trust, not in weapons of death and destruction, but in resurrection that assures us that nothing in all creation, “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)

Amen

Unbound: Lazarus was, are we?

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Christian Discipleship, Faith Development, Lectionary Texts, Uncategorized

What do tennis, hiking, golf, biking, jogging, working on a ladder, and skiing all have in common? They are all things I have had to give up in the last 10 years due to the aging process. I was talking to a friend my age who has given up even more things than I, and when I described my emotional state as “feeling empty” and not having anything to fill the space left by all I’ve lost. The words were barely out of my mouth when my friend said, “That’s exactly how I feel!” Like all of my friends, we have often joked in years past about old people always complaining about their aches and pains all the time, but more and more as we navigate our 70’s we find ourselves doing exactly the same thing.

I remember about 12 years ago asking an “older” gentleman what he was doing in retirement. Without missing a beat he said, “Going to doctor appointments and funerals.” I thought that was funny back then, but I’m not laughing anymore. When I told my friend that I was seeing a counselor about my feelings of emptiness and depression his response surprised me. After asking if the therapy was helping he said, “Thanks for sharing that. I always thought you had it all together. But knowing you are feeling the same things that I am makes me feel not so alone.” That wasn’t a “misery loves company” response; that was the blessing of letting down our armor and being vulnerable.

I’m not patting myself on the back, mind you. I have been good friends with this man for over 50 years. We have gotten together for golf and/or lunch monthly for decades until old age took our clubs away. Now like many oldsters we just go to Bob Evans. We’ve developed a trust over the years, but the fact that he still thought I “had it all together” means I’m either a better actor than I thought or I’ve been much less honest with him than I wish I had. I’m hoping this recent conversation will help us stay on a more vulnerable level going forward.

Here’s the good news. In addition to my therapist I am also working with a spiritual adviser, and when I shared this story with him he reminded me that until we empty ourselves of all the busyness and activities that keep our minds off our pain God can’t fill us up with anything else. A light bulb went on for me when he said that because when you hear truth it illumines things around and within you. He helped me realize that instead of resenting the emptiness I am feeling I can choose to embrace it as a gift from God. That doesn’t mean the UPS is going to arrive at my doorstep with God’s gifts anytime soon, and no that’s not because of a supply chain issue. Spiritual growth takes time and a willingness to sit with pain or emptiness awhile.

The Hebrews were in the wilderness for 40 years, not because it takes that long to travel from Egypt to Israel or because Moses refused to ask for directions. Even Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness wrestling with Satan because deep spiritual growth takes time to mature and ripen. The advice to “be still and know I am God” may sound really simple, but it’s not just a matter of shutting up for a few minutes so God can speak. It means prioritizing time for prayer and silence, and not the kind of prayer where we just tell God what we want or need.

Jacob wrestled with God all night long and was changed forever by that experience. Moses and Elijah both had to go up to Mt. Sinai/Horeb to hear God’s still small voice. I confess I am not good at silence. Even when writing these posts I frequently have a ball game on TV or music on some device. I know I write so much better when I am in a quiet place as I am while I write this, but like Paul I often fail to do the things I want to do and don’t practice what I preach.

The Gospel lesson for All Saints day this year is from John 11, the familiar story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. There are many rich veins of truth to mine in that story, but two stand out for me just now. This chapter contains what every kid in Sunday School loves to memorize, namely the shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus wept.” This is one of several times in the Gospel narratives that we see Jesus vulnerable and allowing his humanity to show through. Like us he grieves over a loss, even though we and he all know he’s going to restore Lazarus to life.

The second verse in that lesson that grabbed my attention this year was the last one where Lazarus emerges from the tomb all bound up like a mummy. He’s alive but not really. His movement and sight and vision are all hampered by his grave clothes???, and Jesus says, “Unbind him and let him go.”

What are the things that bind you and me and keep us from living abundantly in the reign of God? Are we so stuck in our old ways that as Martha so indelicately puts it in the King James Version, “He stinketh,”. My wife sells a very good air purifier that kills germs and removes odors, even in cars or houses that have been skunked. But even those machines will not remove the kind of stench that comes from us who are spiritually dead and don’t know it.

My prayer is for God to unbind me from the anger, fear and regret that I feel for all the things I’ve lost in this stage of my life. Unbind me, Holy one. Roll away the stone that keeps me trapped in a pity party for my past. Unbind me and let me embrace what is and what will be if I trust you to lead me.

What’s your prayer for new life?