A Haiku by Me

"P Plea"


Pompous pretenders’

Presumptuous predictions

Puncture pleasantry.



Pedantic posers’

Puffery, platitudes – Pass!

Pernicious pablum!



Pure prose, poetry,

Prophetic prescience prized!

Purposeful! Precious!

The Seduction of Power

During my activist days I linked up with other people of faith in the community in which I was a church pastor.  We engaged in public witness and made efforts to shape not only general opinion, but also to influence those who held political power.  Our agenda, broadly stated, focused on economic and social justice issues.

We were fortunate that our member of Congress was receptive to entering into dialogue with us, and we took advantage of the opportunity to meet with him on a regular basis.  He made a comment that has stuck in my mind down through the years since then.  As we discussed issues related to poverty, he bluntly stated, "The poor have no voice."

In other words, people caught up in cycles of unemployment, housing discrimination, inflation, lack of health care, few educational opportunities, and related difficulties did not have easy access to those who made decisions and crafted legislation that affected their lives in deep and often detrimental ways.

It was one thing, his comment implied, that concerned folks like us raised issues we felt were important.  It was another matter altogether that those stuck in the morass of a desperate situation had few opportunities, if any, to let the powerful (and wealthy) understand their realities.

I think we all sensed that to be the case, but still, we tried.

One of my colleagues, Kathy, a Catholic social ministry advocacy coordinator, and I took up the call from the national lobbying organization Bread for the World to sponsor a local Hunger Tour.  The idea was to cart around decision makers in one's community and show them examples of the extent of the scuffling and suffering of people, especially related to food insecurity.

We devised a plan to invite office-holders and candidates (it was an election year) from local, state, and national levels to a day of visiting sites in our town that illustrated the food situation faced by those who were "left out."

Kathy arranged for a school bus, together we listed places to visit (dumpsters behind grocery stores, the local prison, food pantries, soup kitchens, welfare and legal services offices, etc.), and we divided the contact list of invitees.

One particularly distressing phone conversation I had was with a county judge. He just couldn't get it through his head that people really were suffering all that much in our community, or that elected officials could or should do anything about it.  The thrust of his response was, "You in the church should just take care of it, if there really is a problem."  This, of course, came on the heels of his party's president (it was the 1980's, you figure it out!) endeavoring to cut federal income tax credits on contributions made to churches and other benevolent non-profit organizations.

My blood pressure and anger rose with each passing second of my conversation with this person, and when the call ended I slammed down the phone and may have let slip a vain expression or two.

Surprisingly enough, though, the judge showed up for the tour and we made unspoken eye contact as people boarded the bus.  We actually had a decent turn-out of candidates and office-holders, and we drove them around town, making our case.  I doubt many, if any, opinions were changed, however.

All of this comes to mind for me as I observe evangelicals embracing The Current Occupant despite his myriad moral and ethical flaws.  It seems they latched on to him primarily because of his stated positions on abortion and LGBT issues.  Failing to see the whole person, many evangelicals sense an opening to impose their narrow views on the rest of the nation.

Equally disturbing is the tendency by evangelical "leaders" to want to cozy up to TCO, to get a "seat at the table."  Billy Graham was famous for doing this.  James Dobson of Focus on the Family played the insider role with Bush the Younger, and I'm sure many others have been seduced by the illusion of power in similar ways.  My sense is such striving only serves the purposes of those in positions of power, expanding their bases, and the religious groupies actually are shunted to the children's table at whatever feast they think they are attending.

It occurs to me that Jesus had little use for worldly power.  When called on the carpet by Pontius Pilate after being arrested because those religious leaders who sought to cozy up to Roman authority fingered him as a threat to that authority, Jesus stood silent under Pilate's questioning.

Pilate was not the authority to whom Jesus answered.

So, it seems to me that speaking truth to power is one thing.  Submitting to that power to the extent of getting caught up in it and trying to embrace it, is another.

Memorable People and Events From Days Gone By

Among the thousands of people that came through the doors at William Penn House during my nine years as Executive Director, some stand out in memory more than others.

For instance, there was a group of perhaps a dozen Russians booked to stay with us for several days under the sponsorship of American University for some kind of cultural exchange program. The morning after their first night at WPH I showed up for work and House Manager Barbara Silverman was waiting for me at the front door. “This can’t be good,” I thought as I bounded up the steps.

It wasn’t. Barbara told me that a number of the Russians were drunk during the night (alcohol and drunkenness were against the stated rules for guests at WPH), wandered into rooms occupied by other guests not associated with their group, and made suggestive overtures toward Barbara and others. After thinking about what to do, knowing that Barbara was very upset, I asked her to point out the miscreants to me, which she did.

If you ever saw the movie The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, there is a scene in which Burt Reynolds, in the role of the town’s sheriff, goes after Dom DeLuise, who played a sensationalist reporter seeking to gain attention and fame by exposing on television the town’s open secret. After the reporter makes a televised public statement calling out the sheriff and the town, the sheriff breathes fire on the reporter, backing him down the sidewalk of the town square, the reporter tripping and stumbling, the sheriff calling him every name in the book while the townspeople look on.

Except for the fact I wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat, I was the sheriff, giving the Russians, whom I had cornered, an explicit and colorful earful of what I thought of their behavior. And then I threw them out. The people at American University were not pleased by this turn of events and tried to talk me out of it, but I said, “Get their stuff out of here by this afternoon.” And they did.

Actually, I had a positive relationship with folks from that part of the world. The Soviet Union still existed when I began my work at William Penn House, and numerous times I was able to get representatives from the Soviet Embassy to speak to students. They always seemed willing to comply. I got to know one of the First Secretaries at the embassy, and he was my regular contact for such arrangements. He sometimes came and spoke to groups himself. We never were invited to the embassy, however.

There was another person the embassy sent on a few occasions to speak at WPH. One day I received a telephone call from the FBI asking me about this particular person. Now, how did they know I knew him? The FBI even sent an agent over to William Penn House to question both Barbara and me about this man. We really didn’t have much to tell. All I know is, the next time I called the embassy to invite the man to speak to another group at WPH, my contacts there never heard of him.

The Secret Service showed up one day, too, about an entirely different matter. Apparently, some threats were phoned in to the White House, and the Secret Service thought they traced the call to a pay phone on our premises. I actually was on a stepladder changing a light bulb in the seminar room when the agent came in (my duties were far-ranging at William Penn House). The only guests in the building that day were a small planning group from the Friends Committee on National Legislation, the Quaker lobbying group on Capitol Hill, upstanding citizens all. After a few questions, about which I had nothing enlightening to offer to him, the agent asked me, “What is William Penn House, anyway?” I told him we were a Quaker seminar center. He flipped his notebook closed, and said, “OK, thanks.” Then, he left.

Some of the individual guests who showed up were of a different sort, I must say. One man came and gave his name as George Washington America. He didn’t have any money, but thought we should let him stay, anyway. He was dressed like someone from the Grand Ol’ Opry in its heyday, but spoke with a foreign accent. We suggested some alternative lodging for him.

Another person I remember engaged me in a long conversation in which he swore he visited William Penn House years before with a woman he described as a significant other for him, whom he referred to as “Sunshine,” and who was a “major media personality. You would recognize her name right away, but I can’t tell you.” He, of course, did everything BUT tell me her name, giving enough hints that I knew his imaginary friend was Vanna White of the Wheel of Fortune game show. Finally, he departed, and I was surprised when he called me from National Airport as he was leaving Washington, thanking me for all I did for him.

“But, I didn’t DO anything,” I said. I didn’t even try to buy a vowel.

One day I answered the door at WPH and there stood a young man with tissues jammed into each nostril. He was asking for donations and had a petition, for which he was seeking signatures, calling for the first Bush Administration to hand over power to him and a group with which he was working. The tissues-in-his-nostrils guy explained how the Bush crowd was not adequately serving the country, and that he and his friends had a plan to get everything straightened out. He just knew if he got enough signatures on the petition President Bush and everyone in his administration would agree to a peaceful transfer of power. As I recall, there even was a target date set for Bush to vacate the White House. I chose not to sign the petition or make a monetary contribution.

“Not even a dime to cover the cost of photocopying the petition?”

“Sorry, man.”

Another humorous incident occurred as a couple of guests were attempting to leave. They were two women who came to Washington for a purpose long forgotten by me, but the day of their departure I do recall. We had a two-car garage behind WPH, one of the old detached “carriage house” buildings seen on Capitol Hill, and sometimes we were able to allow guests to park in it. Usually, when they left, all we did was open the garage door for them and away they went. Their car would not start, however. After numerous failed attempts they called their roadside service.

A tow truck eventually arrived, and one of the interns and I went out to help. I took one look at the guy who came with the tow truck and became very amused. The nameplate on his shirt, instead of “Tom” or “Skip,” read, “Donkeyman.” For some reason, I thought that was pretty funny. I nudged the intern, he saw it, and we both laughed.

Donkeyman said, “Are you guys laughing at my name?” I replied, “Sorry, man, but I never saw anything like that before.” He really didn’t seem all that upset. And it was one of those times when once you start laughing everything compounds it until you lose all control.

Well, Donkeyman decided that the intern and I should push the car out of the garage into the alley, with him steering, so we could get the car in place for an attempt at jump-starting the battery. So, that’s what we did -- as we laughed and made silly comments. The two ladies seemed confused as to why the intern and I were enjoying this so much. Finally, we had the car backed into the alley, but Donkeyman felt he still needed a better angle in order to connect the cables.

So, he got back into the car. The intern and I resumed pushing, this time from the rear, but couldn’t budge the car. I yelled, “Hey, Donkeyman! What gives? You got your foot on the brake or somethin’?” We were doubled over with laughter. He said, “Oh, sorry! I put it in park instead of neutral.” We were hysterical by then, and, gasping for breath, I said to the intern, “Hence, the name.”

A person I always enjoyed presenting to student groups was Colman McCarthy. At the time, Colman was a syndicated columnist, writing out of the offices of The Washington Post. He was a bike-riding vegetarian, referred to by some critics as a “mad-dog liberal.” In addition to his journalistic work, Colman taught courses on peace and peacemaking at a local high school and offered a curriculum on peace through an institute he founded. He seemed to relish opportunities to speak to students, always challenging notions and assumptions.

He would list names of historical figures to see whether students recognized them. One list included names such as Robert E. Lee, George Washington, and George Patton, all of whom the students recognized as military leaders. The second list included Dorothy Day, Jeanette Rankin and others he termed as peacemakers. Few, if any, students ever recognized their names, which, of course, was the point he wanted to make. “How can we have peace in the world if we never teach young people about peace? Why does history always have to be about wars and violence?” were his plaintive mantras.

Colman always told the story of Jeanette Rankin, the first woman elected to Congress. Actually, she was elected twice, decades apart, taking office in her initial term four days before the vote pertaining to U.S. involvement in World War I. She voted no, which Colman suggested led to her serving only one term that time around. Years later Ms. Rankin again won a seat in Congress, just as World War II was heating up. Following the attack on Pearl Harbor, she was in position once again to vote on U.S. participation in war. Remaining consistent, she voted no a second time, and as Colman told the story, Jeanette Rankin reported back home, “The boys are at it again!”

Colman routinely made a case for vegetarianism when speaking to groups. One time, as the session began, he turned to a young man in the group and said, “Would you like a cheeseburger?” The student, incredulous at his dumb luck, enthusiastically said he would. Colman reached into his satchel and pulled out a large test tube filled with what looked like solidified meat drippings. “Here you go. This is what you put into your body whenever you eat one of those things.” He said a rule of thumb to follow before eating was to look at what was on your dinner plate and ask, “Did it have a mother?” Colman McCarthy was a gas. I always enjoyed being with him.

One day as I walked to WPH from the Metro I saw that an empty storefront in the next block from WPH suddenly was a bookstore. Making a mental note to visit the shop in the near future I went into my office. Before long we noticed a film crew set up in front of our building, and the same car kept speeding down East Capitol Street, narrowly missing clipping the same guy walking across the street. Each time, he ran toward the bookstore. Somehow, we eventually found out it was a crew from the television show, A Man Called Hawk, starring Avery Brooks.

When I headed back to the subway that evening to begin my trek home, I saw that the new bookstore was completely gone, and the storefront was empty once again.

Another day, we noticed a person or two running and jumping across the roofs of a couple of the row houses across the street from WPH. It turned out filming was underway for one of the Harrison Ford movies based on a Tom Clancy book.

The Eddie Murphy film, The Distinguished Gentleman, shot some scenes a couple of blocks down from WPH, using one of the nearby row houses as the residence of a character in the film. We found out about it when a guest returned to WPH and told us she saw Eddie himself leaning out a window and shouting at someone on the sidewalk.

Moving around the city, either escorting groups to their appointments with speakers, or on my own for various reasons, it was not uncommon to encounter prominent people. Some I remember were civil rights icon, Rep. John Lewis; Defense Secretary Les Aspin; Leon Panetta, who held various positions under Clinton and Obama; First Lady Hillary Clinton; former Senator and presidential candidate George McGovern; Rev. Jesse Jackson; Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor; rejected Supreme Court nominee Robert Bork; Attorney General Janet Reno; D.C. Mayor Marion Barry; Washington Post Executive Editor Ben Bradlee; former Attorney General Elliott Richardson, who stood up to Nixon during the “Saturday Night Massacre;” Al Franken, long before he ran for public office; actress Kelly McGillis, who was renting a house around the corner from WPH while appearing in a production at the Folger Shakespeare Library; Sen. Jim Bunning, baseball Hall of Fame pitcher who also served as a member of the House from Kentucky; Penn State football coach Joe Paterno, who stopped me one day on the street to ask for directions; Rep. Joseph Kennedy, II, son of Robert Kennedy; and Sen. and Mrs. Daniel Moynihan, who lived two doors down from WPH.

Hint, hint

Every year as we slide into the holidays I recall an observation made by the late Rev. William Sloane Coffin.  He said, "I'm always amazed by how the message of Advent hits the world with all the force of a hint."  While typical of Coffin's ability to craft a memorable sentiment, I think his perception can be thought of in a couple of different ways.  I'm not sure which he might have meant.  Perhaps he meant both.

Advent, of course, is a period of anticipation and preparation leading to the celebration of Christmas. It makes no sense to pretend, though, that we're awaiting the birth of Jesus.  That already occurred.  And frankly, I'm not interested in swelling with wonder at the idea of a Virgin Birth.  That, to me, is more pretense.  I'm not aware of major worldwide holiday celebrations of the many others who were "conceived immaculately" in Egypt, Greece, India, Taiwan, etc.

Whoever came up with the idea, though, that we rejoice at Jesus' birth in deep, dark December was a genius.  The daylight hours are shortest around the winter solstice, people tend more to depression, despondency, fear, and other negative emotions and expressions when light is lacking, and hope is signified by light overcoming darkness.  We have no idea of Jesus' actual date of birth, so let's mark it during the darkest part of the year.  Brilliant! (Pun intended!)

Jesus "shall be called Emmanuel, which means God is with us."  So, Advent carries the message that we small, insignificant (in terms of our relation to the vastness of the universe and whatever else is out there) human beings are not bereft of something or Someone to stand with us as we struggle with and against all the forces, temptations, and challenges surrounding us.  That "Someone," Advent reminds us, is the Creator of all things.  How can we not find strength, comfort, and hope in that?

Here's how --

One way to understand Coffin's hint notion is that rather than making a show of power worthy of The Supreme Being,  the truth of "God with us" was accomplished in humility, simplicity, and even weakness:  a baby born out back in the barn with the stinking animals while the commander of a violent army "searched diligently for the child."  Worldly power was threatened by the most non-threatening way God could think of to assert God's presence in the world.

The message of Advent hit the world with the force of a hint.  As Coffin phrased it, "We want God to be strong so we can be weak, but God chose to be weak so we might be strong."

A related aspect of Advent's hinting impact is that even people of faith often elect to play both sides of the equation.  We like to sing season-appropriate hymns (holding lit candles during "Silent Night"), we include Nativity scenes, live or otherwise, in our worship and decorating, and we feel a twinge of emotion or nostalgia when Bible verses are read describing Jesus' birth.  We look forward to it every year.

It's difficult, though, to see what difference it makes in our lives once we take down the tree and soon forget our New Year's Resolutions.  The message seems like a mere hint. How does the Light of Christ shine through the followers of Jesus the rest of the year?  It's kind of like donating money or even volunteering at the soup kitchen around Thanksgiving but not giving much, if any, thought to those who are hungry the rest of the year.

If we do carry with us a concern for the suffering among us, if we do recognize the injustices of our society, or if we do understand that true peace is not merely the absence of war or other open conflict, what do we do about it?  Simply pray? Look for someone else to sort it all out?  Wonder why God doesn't "fix" everything?

Why not embrace the hope of "God with us" as we make decisions and set priorities in our lives?  As we decide how to spend our time and our money?  As we relate to those who are different from us?  As we vote?

If we truly believe "Jesus is the reason for the season," it seems to me we would take the light that shines even in the darkness of the days of December and carry it beyond the holidays to the regular days, the every days, the difficult days, the conflicted days, the challenging days, so that hope is seen in our words and in what we do.

Forget superficial religiosity.  Nobody cares about that or is influenced by it.  Forget mouthing platitudes or even quoting Bible verses.  Forget pointing out the failures of others.

Remember hope.  Remember the promises of God.  Remember the love of Christ.  Remember the presence of the Holy Spirit.  Remember your highest allegiance is to the One who has called you by name.

Hint, hint.

New World In The Morning

It was in the neighborhood of thirty years ago and maybe a bit of a harbinger of the future.  In my role as the head of a seminar center on Capitol Hill in Washington I took a group of students from the University of Denver to meet with the person who represented the district in which the school was located.  You may remember Pat Schroeder, the first woman to sit on the House Armed Services Committee.  If you don't remember Pat, look her up!

It was about the same time that Rep. Schroeder was considering a run for the presidency, and that was common knowledge among those who pay attention to such things.  Anyway, the students, their professor, and I barely were settled into our seats in Rep. Schroeder's office when she referenced a fellow member of Congress who was recently caught having sex with an underaged girl.  Amid great hilarity on her part, Rep. Schroeder said, "There's a new saying going around on the House floor:  'If they're not old enough to vote, (expletive deleted) 'em!'"  Then she laughed uproariously, as we sat stunned.  When we were back on the street following the rest of the conversation, which actually was pretty substantive, the group's professor said to me, "Well!  That wasn't very presidential!"

Maybe not then, but now...?

There is no need to recount the boorish behavior and language of The Current Occupant.  If you want that, just watch the news every evening.  Every time a new low is reached I think, "Unbelievable, but it can't get any worse."  Then, of course, it does.

The truly unfortunate thing is that now permission has been given, and accepted by many others, to wallow in the same mudhole.   It is not only the schoolyard bully language and behavior, but also lies and the demonization of those who espouse a different point of view that detract from our well-being as a nation.

Following the "calling" by news reporters of the re-election of the person who represents my district in the U.S. House of Representatives a clip was shown of him speaking at his victory celebration.  His name is Patrick McHenry, and rather than spouting some inspirational gibberish about what glory lay ahead for North Carolina, the United States, and the World, he was complaining about the "Paid Democratic left-wing activists" who opposed him and others of his ilk.

Well, I voted against him -- again -- and no one slid me any change.

Despite all of this, I actually see a glimmer of hope in what is happening in our politics these days.

Given the rhetoric of fear and spectacles such as the Kavanaugh hearings, along with the stated  disapproval rating of The Current Occupant's persona and performance, I think we finally may be on the edge of the exposure of the lie of White Male Superiority.

It's a shame that it is a remarkable development that two -- just two -- Native American women were elected to Congress.  Likewise, that two -- again, just two -- Muslim women were elected, as well.  It has been a very long time since the first woman of any ethnicity was elected to Congress.  Her name was Jeanette Rankin (look her up if you don't know about her), and she was elected twice, actually -- both elections came just in time for her to vote against the United States' entry into a world war.  Upon voting "no" on entering World War II, Rep. Rankin reportedly said, "The boys are at it again!"

Not many women -- especially those not from the dominant culture -- ever were elected to national office, but the numbers are growing, and as noted above, there is the beginning of more diversity, as well.  In fact, the youngest person ever elected to Congress just won in New York -- a woman.

Frankly, I don't really understand why so many White Males are scared.  Office holders, of course, want to hold onto power and to the access to wealth that gives them before, during, and after their terms. But those guys are even convincing others who will never hold office (and who, if truth be told, matter very little to those seeking their votes) that they need to be scared, too.  Some take this fear to the extreme and send bombs through the mail or shoot up synagogues, newsrooms or individuals identified by "leaders" as enemies.

In Georgia, the gubernatorial race is "too close to call" as this is being written, and Ms. Abrams, an African-American woman is hanging in there against a person whose campaign and actions as Georgia's Secretary of State, responsible for the fairness of elections, have not been without questionable twists and turns, with race as a factor.  To me, the closeness of the Georgia governor's election is a hopeful sign that more and more people are rejecting the status quo and are feeling empowered to greater participation in our society.

The United States is made up of a diverse population that grows ever more diverse with the passage of time.  The time for privilege for the few at the expense of the many is long past its expiration date.  Yes, for a few days following this particular mid-term election, the word "bi-partisanship" will bounce around like a beach ball in the crowd at a sporting event.  Soon enough, though, heels will be dug in, jaws will be set, and backroom strategies will be hatched.  Words will become weapons again.

All of that is starting to wear thin, though, and I have to believe that some of the new faces and voices and skin-tones will begin to say, "Hold on, there!  The world is bigger than you want to make it.  You are not the only ones that matter.  Together we can move toward something better for everyone."

But, it ain't gonna be easy. Yet.

I remember a fellow from my long-ago past named Bill Harris.  He worked in the library at the seminary I attended.  One day I lamented some thing or another and concluded by saying, "It's a crazy world."

With missing a beat, Bill replied, "I'm looking for a better one,"

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall...

A dozen or so years ago I attended a "stewardship conference" in Daytona Beach at the behest, and on the dime, of a denominational office. Several of my colleagues from the eastern U.S. were there, as well. One evening at dinner a fellow clergy-type bragged about how in a recent sermon he "railed against Bush (President George W.) and his policies." I thought to myself, "That poor congregation."

As a veteran by then of a couple of decades of preaching I once made that same mistake, although I was much younger when I did so. It was during the Reagan Nightmare (see, I did it again!), and the Lectionary served up a belt-high fastball with some Old Testament text about "old men" doing things with idols that were detrimental to the life of the community of God's people.

Well (as Reagan himself was wont to say), I swung at that fastball and couldn't resist declaring something to the effect of, "Until we say 'No!' to nuclear weapons we are as guilty of idolatry as President Reagan and all the other old men who think weapons and the threat of war provide our salvation!" There was an audible gasp from someone in the congregation and Mary told me later that another person said, "I guess we know who he's voting for." Yep, it was Walter Mondale that time.

When it comes to preaching it seems to me there is a fine line between "prophetic" and pathetic. I was on the wrong side of that line, as was the guy who did his railing when Dubya held the keys to the White House.

For a semester or two at my seminary there was a theology professor visiting from Great Britain. I no longer remember his name, but from what I recall of the class I took with him we wrestled with this notion of prophecy. We were assigned to write a paper dealing with then-current issues, giving theological reflection and a prophetic word. The professor clearly didn't like what we wrote. Citing example after example from our efforts he kept making comments such as, "Where is the prophetic message? Everybody is against racism and sexism and all the other 'isms' you decried!"

Maybe not everybody...  But, he made his point, and all these years later I still think about that.

As I understand prophecy it's not so much simply predicting the future, but rather has more to do with seeing the world and its realities through the eyes of God, or through a heart that is in tune with God.  That is, "How does what is happening in the world line up with God's intentions for life, and what are the likely outcomes or consequences when there is a disconnect between the two?"  Identifying all of that, as I see it, gets into the realm of prophecy.

Ah, but there's the rub:  How do we know what God intends?  It's there in the Bible, you say?
I challenge you to listen to sermons or Bible exposition by a dozen or so preachers coming at the text from various theological slants and tell me about God's intentions.

It seems to me that one can judge authentic prophecy by how much it challenges the status quo.  If it's always "those people over there" who are offending God and likely to spend eternity screaming in burning agony while breathing in Sulphur fumes, then that's not prophecy.  If our outlook and actions are challenged, and we're called to higher regard for others, and to be more mindful of how what we say and do have detrimental effects on the lives of people near and far, then prophecy is coming our way.

After all, in biblical days (and even in our lifetime) prophets weren't given medals and parades.  They were put to death.

Prophecy, however, is not simply about negativity and rear end-kicking (although that may be an effective way to get our attention).

Prophecy, as stated earlier, points to God's intentions, and THAT is abundant life for all of God's Creation.  To me, that is a clear message of scripture.  God creates in love and desires for that love to fill every corner of life.  It's not for White middle-class and higher Americans only.  It's for everyone everywhere, only we have a tendency to mess that up as if there isn't enough of anything to go around.

So, problems abound.  Conflict and tension ignite non-stop bitterness and violence.  We have to get ours (and more, actually) at the expense of others.  Then we bemoan our troubles, we demonize "them," and happiness eludes us.

I used to know a guy who sensed he was on the wrong path with all of his acquisitions and claimed privileges.  He made a major life adjustment, taking on the challenges of living in service to others.  When I brought him in to talk to student groups during my days running a seminar program his ideas always generated the most thinking and discussion among the students.

His message was straight-forward and, I would say, prophetic:  "If you want to change the world, the first thing you need to do is change yourself."

I Think I'll Quit Watching The News...

Every day brings more head-shaking developments for those of us who believe that turning back the clock to "Make America Great Again" is not only counter-productive but disgraceful.  This isn't just about promoting one political party over the other.  This is about the future of freedom, democracy, and a strong, unified nation.  We are, after all, supposed to be the United States of America.

During the years I worked on Capitol Hill introducing groups of inquiring people to policy-makers, researchers, think-tankers, journalists, lobbyists and other advocates, and activists in my role directing the work of a seminar program I met scores of people representing various viewpoints. Some from opposing sides were compelling, some were clearly partisan, some were inspiring, and some were downright offensive, but that's who we are as a people.  And together we can "move the ball forward," as the phrase goes, each contributing his or her insights, wisdom, and experiences.  Together, we craft our shared life into something reflective of the vision of our Revolutionary Founders.

At least, that's how it's supposed to work, and how I believe the RF intended for it to work. Lately, though, it's not working, and it's getting worse all the time.

Here's a question to ponder:  What is the "greatness" of America that needs restoring?  Perhaps the underlying question relates to what "un-did" this "greatness."

To me, it's all about power and wealth.  Those who have them always fear losing them.  Those who don't have them, seek them.  This presents a clash that lately has taken on, let's say, "biblical" proportions.

As women, ethnic minorities and others who are not White, male, and heterosexual find their voices and make strides in the power/wealth struggle those at the top of the heap (mainly White male heterosexuals) do whatever they can to counteract, even tamp down those who begin to slip the shackles that hold them back from the abundant life intended by God for all of Creation. (Ah, now we're starting to get to the biblical proportions of our little exercise)

We live in times that include the fomenting of suspicion and fear of Muslims.  We live in times that include reactionary attempts to prevent certain immigrants from becoming part of our immigrant-based populace.  We live in times that include a "shoot first and take names later" mentality when it comes to African-Americans (or to call the police when African-Americans engage in common, ordinary activities. just because they're black).  We live in times that include efforts to take away women's ability to control their own bodies and health.  We live in times that include "Christians" discriminating against LGBTQ folks because their "lifestyle" violates the religious liberties of said "Christians." We live in times when guns, and campaign contributions from the NRA, are more precious than the lives of our fellow citizens and their children.  We live in times that include admiration for dictators and despots while giving the finger to our democracy-practicing allies.  You can fill in the rest.  It can get depressing to enumerate what we wake up to every day.

Today's example is Attorney General Jeff Sessions announcing the establishment of a "Religious Liberty Task Force."

Sessions, who already is in trouble with his own church, the United Methodists, stated that “we have gotten to the point where courts have held that morality cannot be a basis for law; where ministers are fearful to affirm, as they understand it, holy writ from the pulpit; and where one group can actively target religious groups by labeling them a ‘hate group’ on the basis of their sincerely held religious beliefs”

Sessions claimed all religions would be protected against discrimination.  He also quoted The Boss, who said, "We'll be saying 'Merry Christmas' again."  Personally, I have no confidence that this Task Force will be a positive, life-affirming endeavor.

I take issue with Sessions' claim that "ministers are fearful to affirm, as they understand it, holy writ from the pulpit."  First of all, if the "ministers" to whom he refers preach a message of oppressing those who are different, they DO NOT understand "holy writ."  And certainly, there are far too many ignoramus preachers seeking a wider following by showing how much judgment and wrath they can heap on people seen as "less than" in various ways.

"Hate group" is a valid description of such groups headed by those with these "sincerely held religious beliefs."  I have no doubt as to the sincerity of these beliefs.  Unfortunately, the only underpinnings they have are those related to self-service and power-seeking.  The Bible constantly is twisted to justify one's prejudices.

There is nothing wrong with wishing someone "Happy Holidays," especially if you do or do not know whether that person celebrates differently from you.  And, no one is stopping anyone from saying, "Merry Christmas."  The only inhibitor to that is respect for the dignity of another person's traditions.  If the Task Force seeks to codify "Merry Christmas," it defeats its own stated goals.

Why do we put up with all of this?

I wrote to my senators and representative expressing my disgust with the direction of our nation, but, of the two who responded, one simply disagreed and the other sent a letter about something else entirely.  No surprise here, given who these guys are, but I didn't want to not be on record about what I see as a destructive manipulation of our common future.

Maybe some want to go back to "the good old days."  Life was simpler.  There weren't so many complications.  It was Great!

Unless you weren't White, male, "Christian," heterosexual, observed diverse traditions, or otherwise were excluded from the dominant culture.