SILENCE- A WORLD DEVOID OF AUDIBLE WORDS

Silence … a world devoid of audible words.

Is that it? So simplistic. So challenging. So fraught

with the promise of inner peace.. yet contradicting our

life styles.. A hermitage??

Spiritual silence emanates from the inside of our souls

rather than the external pinching of our lips

So difficult to comprehend.

Contemplation?

The quietude of self surrender.. to the Great I AM.

Inner peace accompanies willing self surrender, when

the act is one of free will, unquestionable, and subject

to the will of God.. His Will, not ours.

Overcoming the stifling powers of strife, angst,

self incrimination, personal delusion, contemplation facilitates the

act of dying unto self.. the complete surrender of our

worldly self.

So difficult. To surrender ourselves. Complete trust. Giving

up ideas and precepts which we believe have sustained

us.. or so we thought…because everyone else is engaged in

the same, non sacrificial journey.

If Thomas Merton could walk this walk – why can’t we?

TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS

We’re comfortably seated. Friends and neighbors close by.

Familiar sights of sun splashed windows: ushers extend a hand

to the regulars.

Musty smell of well worn cushions, the air conditioner is

blaring full force

Microphones are tested; lights blazing from the domed ceiling.

Ministers, priests, politicians and

sundry public relations types puff out their chests

to ascend the stage: get our attention: seek our allegiance/trust.

Many appear to deliver clever, useful, even value added

pronouncements for the public good.

Especially our own personal self good.

Well spoken, articulate, logical, they are smooth,

glib, folksy, with value systems apparently akin to our own.

Apparently

Our inner self says “I can relate”.Makes sense. One of the good guys.

Oh, there may be a bit of verbal slippage. A curse word or two

from the rostrum-pulpit. A smooth double entendre.

Nothing out of bounds.. well, perhaps still in bounds.

We can relate.

The audience laughs, after all, the speaker is one of us.

References to tragic, life altering personal situations sneak

into the dialogue. Intended to relate to us common folk.

It’s ok.

We are still awed by the glibness. We’re proud to be in the

audience. One of those chosen.

Just part of an ongoing drama.

The speaker is trying to relate – to be one of us-really? Is that his preferred

tactic and strategy.

After many weeks, there is a sense of community. We have bought in. We agree

with the leader’s philosophy. He/she is taking us to the promised land—be it

political, religious, product driven.

Eventually a dim red line apparently is crossed. Enamored, we barely notice.

Be it a sexual reference. A religious reference

which doesn’t fit our paradigm. Perhaps a request for a

donation. A personal favor –a little too personal like acting as

a chauffeur for a drive to Chicago. Maybe a hug – too tight, too long. A sloppy,

wet kiss.

A wink at our teenage son. He clasps our wife’s hand. a little too tightly,

too friendly.. she winces, he smiles.

Vacations and more vacations with youth groups. Camping trips

are scheduled –and their purpose?

We want to deny, dismiss. “ Surely I am misreading”.

He/she has always been such a good person.

When? Where? Do we protest? Do we protect the values of

our families, our church, our country.

Listen closely. Every speech. Every conversation.

Words matter. People are transparent. Despite their cleverness.

Apologies are insufficient.

Uncomfortable with what you

hear? Consider this: your mind is the single most accurate receptor of

information.

Do you walk away? Are there actions to be taken?

Deciding between acts of commission and omission? What

road will you take?

.

PROMISES

PROMISES

Promises on the premises

Allegiance, trust, belief all standard bearers

Verbal handshakes, head nods, eye to eye contact

Sharing of blood rituals – not quite

Kings and minions walk a similar path

 

Fealty is rewarded: transgressors are punished.

Promises are based on quantifiable trust

A belief system mutually understood

Broken stems carry a death knell.

Shattered promises equate to misplaced trust.

LIVING A LIE

Dark complexioned: 6 feet 4. Muscular: the guy in operating room scrubs looks like a longshoreman from Dammam, Saudi Arabia. Curly, entangled hair, clean but not Ivy-League looking. When was his last shower?

A ready smile, is he laughing at me?

Can’t trust foreigners.

Looking into his face as I lay on the recovery bed, I see a visage which appears and then disappears as the meds play games with my mind. Being weak in front of a foreigner is frightening. what happens next?

Exuding an air of confidence he says ” I can help you.”

Yikes, can’t trust foreigners.

Is he really a doctor> His name? It sounds like one of those Southeast Asian India-Pakistani types. Maybe he is a terrorist. Could he ban an illegal immigrant with an online degree? Not possible. this is St Luke’s Hospital in Milwaukee. How are you feeling he asks? What is your level of pain? Suspicious, I inquire ” are you a Christian”? (non Christians need not apply). No, he replies, I was raised Hindu. Uh oh. Now what? He has just sliced open my back and inserted a titanium plate and I am obligated to trust a surgeon from a third world country. It’s too late for a background check but I ignorantly forge ahead.

Can’t trust foreigners.

Where did you get your medical training I ask? My degrees are from Johns Hopkins and Stanford he replies.

Humbled, I hope he doesn’t ask where I went to school. having attended a small liberal arts college, I am now intimidated.  My prejudices are laid bare.  How do I explain my actions to daughters Karen and Theresa? Family discussions around the dinner table which address man’s humanity to man always emphasize universal tolerance and acceptance.

Living a lie is a humbling experience.

The Passing of Childhood Toys From Generation to Generation

A well worn , paint challenged wooden jeep rested

in the bottom of an unmarked, wrinkling  cardboard box.  Alone

 for more than 6 decades.

The original  thin gray string is still attached to this pull toy

which carries  the star of the U S military in World War II. A spare

tire  ready for use is proudly attached to the rear deck.

I have faint memories of walking with this companion in and out

of the rooms of my grandparents home.  The sturdy wooden wheels loudly

announce   my coming and goings.  Wooden wheels and linoleum floors

combine for a symphony of rough hewn music.

A simplistic toy? Perhaps. The stories it can tell!

One of those items which somehow initiated a lifelong interest in history and things military.

 

Stored silently  away in a fragile box… my mother kept this toy as she moved from home to home and

as she aged.  Decades slowly passed.

Why did she keep this memory of times gone by?

What was the connection in  her memory bank?  Cleaning her last apartment enroute to

relocating to a nursing home, she gave me the jeep .

 

Now the jeep rests in our basement. Alone,  unused,  silent, proud.

 

Thinking about what we will pass on to our children, and those which will be discarded.

The jeep is again an item of loving interest.

A toy which probably means absolutely nothing to anyone but this writer. How I want this

gem to be treasured by another generation… yet knowing it may have little tangible value.

 

Stiff upper lip time.. the decision as to who wants family heirlooms are  made by the adult children.

Yes, part of the decision making process is about my vanity.  Wanting the jeep to be enjoyed by another

generation, while hoping loving memories of our time with the family endures. 

 

In reflection, what matters is not merely the history which accompanies the jeep,

 or my memories of boyhood play time. What is important is the continuation of

unwritten Christian values and historical perspectives which

are attached to these family artifacts.  The singular lines of progression that are carried

from birth to the grave.  The jeep is a symbol of the strength of a family covering

generations of singular values and ethics. 

A look in the mirror reveals the spirit of our Lord which carries us forward.

 

 

 

LEADERSHIP IN ACTION

Yesterday was the day of exit for the church’s musical director.
A composer, master of many instruments,
Most of all a motivator of choirs and congregations.
Speeches of thanks by the priest, choir members, and the director:
Three standing ovations as the time to say adieu came closer:
The 1st ovation had an aura of victory . Like celebrating a winning touchdown.
The 2nd was more appreciative – hands clapping and body language of thanks.
The 3rd was unabashed sadness: Tears of farewell: bodies shaking with sad emotion.
Husbands, wives, children, holding each other as the moment of separation arrived.
Five hundred people overcome with loss – heads bowed: eye contact avoided:
big guys turned into jello.
What is the chemistry? The magic? The charisma that this stranger of 5 years ago
brought to this audience? Changed a moribund gathering into a group of bawling
children. There is no military command structure: or organization dictums which demand obligation to sing and participate
An aura created over time by the dynamism of his personality.

Knowledgeable, without a doubt Passionate about his faith

Energetic , obviously

Engaging , yes

Developer of mutual trust

Carrying the audience in his hands over and over again

Mesmerizing .
A prime example of “leadership” – taking people to places where they did not want to go: and didn’t think they had the talent or ability to take risks associated with musical cliffs.
Jeff believes in himself, his faith, AND the people to whom he is ministering. Most of whom he never met.. but all who feel they know him – and follow him: timidly then eventually without question.

In summary – a construct of mutual trust.
We know and treasure this rare combination when we have the privilege to experience this amazing
chemistry of superb leadership.

A case study in Leadership 101

HELPING OTHERS IN 2013

HELPING OTHERS IN 2013

Self centered, self rewarding, self promotion ..etc..

Several phrases to describe that most concentric of end of year

Activities – The New Years Resolution.

We all know the drill:

Lose weight,

Go to the gym regularly,

Get to work on time

Each and everyone is a worthwhile goal… and resolutions that we take seriously.

These goals are in concert with our New Year’s parties – designed to make us feel

good.

We are celebrating the coming of another change in the calendar.

The uplifting spirit that comes with our success at attaining our goals is both

temporary and thin as a colorless veneer.

Why?

Two reasons – 1^st the goals are  designed to give us self satisfaction : good idea –

but self satisfaction is only temporary – we buy a new car – then find we want a

replacement..  when the glass is full we seek

another source of joy and satisfaction…  always moving on …

A spiritually based Christian  axiom is that we gain more benefit when we provide

love and care to others than to ourselves.  For example, our inner satisfaction is a

deep, quiet reward when we see the sense of hope we have helped to create in the

eyes of a needy, lost person.  Without any thought of

personal reward we have helped a brother .

This unselfish act creates  ever growing compound interest in our own inner soul –

and like Mother Theresa – we help whom ever is in need without regard to those

with business or political connections who may pay us back for our kindness.

Yes, let’s make resolutions for 2013.  Resolutions to give of our time and talents to

help others before paying attention to ourselves.

God Bless!

THE GIFT OF SEEING PEOPLE FROM THE INSIDE OUT

A rotund 6’ man with bright red clothes, a beard, large boots and an oversized lap:
That description doesn’t fit the Santa Claus sitting on his chair at Woodfield Mall?
Or does it?
Remember being 3 years old and looking straight up at a 6” man? Of course not!
Ever ask a 3 year old what they see at that moment? Of course not. The question doesn’t occur to us.

We are told to see things through another person’s perspective: to walk a mile in their shoes:
To see life as they see it — hmm but do we really?
Seated around a conference table, across the aisle in a subway, in a one on one conversation.
We see the person from OUR perspective…
No matter how eloquent or factual another’s description – we are evaluating the info through our
experience filter. What if we could sit on their shoulders? Or within their eyes?

What enabled Ronald Reagan, “ The Great Communicator’, to know
exactly how to phrase “ Mr Gorbachev, tear down that wall”. How did he have the audience in the
palm of his hands? How did he look out over that throng and parse his words, tilt his head, and capture
the moment? What enabled him to make each and every person at the Brandenberg gate feel like he
was talking individually to them?

A college professor dove under the desk in the middle of a lecture in 1962.. He was responding to the
slamming of the class room door. The wind swirling down the hallway pushed the door closed – loudly.
Head covered, cowering, shaking., crying with anguish and pain. Incapacitated. In the fetal position.
Later we learned that the tremors he endured, his reaction to the door slamming were the recurring
nightmares of his foxhole being overrun by hundreds of screaming Chinese soldiers during the Korean
War. The bayoneting and slaughter of those on his right and left.Wonder what he saw and heard that
horrible night on a frozen hillside north of Seoul?
Listening to a group of homeless, some would say helpless men, at a shelter last week, it was
humbling to listen to their stories. Lots of us have lived in poverty – but have been lucky to escape it.
These men, homeless, out of work, some with spirit left in them, others on the cusp of desperation.
I wondered – what do they see? How humbling is it to be in a church basement at 7:00 waiting for
others to feed you — that which may be the final meal for perhaps days. Proud, yet at the mercy of
others. Some would say a castrating experience.
Yet, there was a connection between the men and one of the volunteers. A palpable sense that
somehow she understands part of the world from their perspective.
Not judging: not providing them with excuses for their plight: but communicating a sense of caring,
concern, and most of all understanding. An amazing gift she has. Seeing a gift of goodness in each man.
But more than that, these men give her permission to walk in their shoes. To commiserate with their
plight.
Yes, there it is! Being granted the unconditional permission to walk in someone’s shoes. To see
through their eyes, to enter the heart through their ears. To reiterate, being given permission to
walk in someone’s shoes with them.
The 3 year old – we place her with Santa Claus –because it makes us feel warm and fuzzy. The Korean
War Veteran spent the rest of his life in a VA hospital- the protective wall insulating him from further
hurt was too high to scale.
The men in the shelter – they have a chance at seeing life through a different lens , a lens of hope,
because a Christian woman understands them from the inside out.

The gift of understanding others

“ BROTHERS AND SISTERS, HEAR MY PRAYER

The great religions of the world have their special holiday seasons.
Whether it be Lent, or Ramadan or Passover.
All require commitment, sacrifice, and prayer.

A common query of our family “ What did you give up for lent?
Is it chocolate, or booze, or television?

Muslims give up food from sunrise to sunset during Ramadan
Truly a sacrifice in the energy depleting sacrifice heat of the desert.

And so, we look inward during this period leading up to the torture
Mockery, and death of Jesus on the cross.
Ever put a crown of thorns on your head – painful to say the least
Let alone nails in your hands, hanging from a tree for hours.
So our sacrifice is indeed minimal.

Sunday services are imbued with somberness. Dark, blood red is the prevalent color.

And so, we begin.

The cantor sings: “ Brothers and sisters hear my prayer, for I have sinned”
Followed by many verses of this same pleading, melodious chant.
Look around. The 80 ish lady standing next, adorned with jewelry and coiffure with elegance
rises alone, by herself. Face crisscrossed with deep dark lines, back straight
Tears running down her proud cheeks: “ Brothers and sisters hear my prayer, for I have sinned.
One wonders, what malfeasance could be so great that her heart is torn?

Garish, frightening tattoos decorate the neck of the young father .
Leather jacket, dirty jeans, well worn sneakers
Holding his daughter tightly, showing he will protect her against all evil.
Straight as a marine on guard, he faces the altar
Grim, determined, he sings “ Brothers and sisters hear my prayer, for I have sinned”.
What does his appearance tell us about his past and present.
Here he is standing before the crucifix
Let’s hope he gets the benefits of forgiveness.

Amazing what happens to a group of people praying for forgiveness.
Eyes front, no one glances to see the face of the person next to them
A very focused congregation, desiring their own space, their own private thoughts.

Silence. A all quietly settle into the benches.
Even the small children seem to be entranced by the body love of their parents.

The priest, a 50ish something Irish guy, large enough to have played for the Packers is
A loud laughing, hand slapping, love everyone guy. He always has a smile and a kind word.
Seemingly encircled by his blood red stole he strides to the front of the altar.
Strange, this is not the usual format of the service. The congregants shuffle in their seats.
Steal a questioning sideways glance at their pew mate.
After all, in each Catholic Church throughout the world the format is the same.
THIS IS NOT THE FORMAT!!

Loud, booming, trembling the priest proclaims: “ Brothers and sisters hear my prayer, for I have sinned”.
Laying prostrate on the altar, he slowly, deliberately, in obvious pain, removes the sacred clerical
vestmants.
Again he faces his flock, those who have trusted him for 5 years: Louder and with anguish he proclaims:
“ Brothers and sisters hear my prayer, for I have sinned”.

He not so subtly nods towards the back of church.
Lovingly he holds his bible close to his heart
Eyes front, not looking at anyone, his shame apparent to all.
He begins the slow walk down the aisle.
Indeed a walk of public shame, A walk he chose to make.
“Oh my God “yells the fainting woman as she collapses..
“ No father” say it isn’t so cries a young mother.
“You dirty bastard “screams a man of 50, a former altar boy.
The walk reaches the end of the church,
An embarrassed, shy state trooper, also a parishioner, escorts the sinner to the waiting car.

It is over, another chapter in a seemingly endless saga.
The people have been sacrificed. Faith is again questioned. Shock and awe .
In the words of an old hymn. Where were you when they hung him on the cross?

A time for reflection and sacrifice

EGYPT – WHAT IS THIS REVOLUTION TELLING US?

This is the land of Moses, and a refuge for the baby Jesus:
The mathematical genius that are the pyramids
Luxor, Alexandria, the tombs of the Pharoah
What we call “ Ancient Civilizations”.
Forgotten? The people who we know as Egyptians:
Egypt – the land of freedom in Arabic
Nestled in the hot, dusty, difficult terrain of the Sahara

An educated people; passive – some would even say docile:
Polite to a fault: accepting of their fate:
Many highly educated: many unemployed
Living a bare subsistence of existence.

A complex nation of 80 million people
Shia and Sunni Muslim, Christians, others
Held together by history and geography
Torn apart by dictators and thieves

Standing on the banks of the Nile, watching the sun rise,
Listening to the call to prayer coming from a local mosques
( a sound that one never forgets – somehow inspiring)
It is easy to romanticize the time of the ancients
With Cleopatra, the Pharaohs, glimmering caskets
Regal palaces and international trade intrigue

Somehow, someway, the “common man” gets lost in this narrative
News media regale us with the observations that Mubarak is
Not listening to the people –such a simplistic view
It’s about dignity, independence, trust, and economic freedom
Thus the revolution of 2011.

Such a timeless lesson of history and human fate.
All civilizations eventually crumble and fail
Products of internal decay, excess, and weakness.

Let us consider that decay destroys from the inside out
From the epicenter to the observable skin and structural damage.
So it is with all societies. Destruction begins with the end of the nuclear family
Egypt is ending due to a lack of trust in the head of their family – their President

In the United States, we are faced with the erosion of the basic family unit.
With a high percentage of children born – fatherless : what does that create?
Another generation of trustless populace: Uncommitted, uncaring:

We are in charge of our individual and collective destiny
The question – do we have the heart, will and desire to make a difference?
The answer my friends is blowing in the wind.

The Egypt we romanticized