U OK HUN?

I DON’T KNOW THAT I HAD MUCH INTEREST in the United Kingdom until The Beatles rocked the music world and transcended pop culture by making culture. That of course was the 60s. In the summer of ’70, I got to visit England. My main three take-aways, best I remember: 1. it seemed so old, 2. why can’t you get ice in a glass of water, and 3. why do they call cookies biscuits?

Of late, I’ve had a renewed interest in the the UK. It may have started with Downton Abbey, but has gained momentum at about three miles an hour, watching YouTube videos about narrowboats slowing chugging along on the canals, really old canals, that meander across the island. One in particular, is a vlog called “Cruising the Cut”. I wrote about it a while back.

Apparently some YouTube algorithm—not to sound too paranoid—has decided I would like to, or should like to, know more about the ways of the Brits via video blogs, adding them to my “if you liked this, you might like this” list. Watching the videos has spawned a fascination with the ways and words of the Crown’s Subjects (or are they Citizens of the Commonwealth?) It’s confusing.

from the internet. not likely an actual Churchill quote.

One such phrase I learned just the other day: “U ok hun?” Apparently this is used when someone is being overly dramatic or seemingly stressed to the brink, particularly as expressed in their social media posts. It shows a bit of concern but with an unspoken hint of “maybe you’re overdoing it.” The fact that it’s made its way to t-shirts and coffee mugs (or tea cups for my British friends) signals it is woven into urban-speak.

It’s sort of like our: “Bless your heart.” Sort of sardonic sympathy, but not always. Sometimes it is full-on, beautiful empathy.

Isn’t it weird how almost everything can be divisive now?

I wasn’t there, but apparently back in the first century the issue of whether to eat meat that had been offered to idols was a hot topic. People were lining up, taking sides and throwing metaphorical stones. Paul the Apostle mentioned in a letter that sometimes knowledge can puff us up; even if that knowledge is based in truth and facts; or not. And when we’re all puffed up with superiority, knowledge becomes dogma and we become jerks. (That part wasn’t in Paul’s take on the matter. I added it on.) [I’ve included a portion of his letter below.]

What if we could sincerely embrace an attitude that regardless of how we vote, whether we’re mask/no mask, whether our favorite ammendment is the first or the second, we could say to each other with true compassion in these crazy times: “U ok hun?” And, no matter the answer, our response would be a sincere: “Bless your heart.”

And, if you’re thinking, “Bless his liberal, naive heart,” I feel that sarcasm. I’m empathetic like that. (Or would that be telepathic?)

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Paul’s first letter to a group in Corinth (chapter 8, The Message)

The question keeps coming up regarding meat that has been offered up to an idol: Should you attend meals where such meat is served, or not? We sometimes tend to think we know all we need to know to answer these kinds of questions—but sometimes our humble hearts can help us more than our proud minds. We never really know enough until we recognize that God alone knows it all.

Some people say, quite rightly, that idols have no actual existence, that there’s nothing to them, that there is no God other than our one God, that no matter how many of these so-called gods are named and worshiped they still don’t add up to anything but a tall story. They say—again, quite rightly—that there is only one God the Father, that everything comes from him, and that he wants us to live for him. Also, they say that there is only one Master—Jesus the Messiah—and that everything is for his sake, including us. Yes. It’s true.

In strict logic, then, nothing happened to the meat when it was offered up to an idol. It’s just like any other meat. I know that, and you know that. But knowing isn’t everything. If it becomes everything, some people end up as know-it-alls who treat others as know-nothings. Real knowledge isn’t that insensitive. We need to be sensitive to the fact that we’re not all at the same level of understanding in this. Some of you have spent your entire lives eating “idol meat,” and are sure that there’s something bad in the meat that then becomes something bad inside of you. An imagination and conscience shaped under those conditions isn’t going to change overnight.

Randall & Rawls

THIS IS A GUEST POST OF SORTS. These are the words of my friend Randall O’Brien. I often turn to Randall’s words when I’m trying to try to make sense of things. They are a wonderful lens to view the world through. Let me give you an example. At the end of this post is a link to an essay Randall wrote. Please click that link and read it. It’s not long. It’s true. It’s powerful. It’s timely. If it doesn’t touch your heart deeply, yours may be hardened to stone at this time.

Among several graduate degrees, Randall studied Human Nature and Personality at Yale University. Mostly though (in my opinion) he studies real life.

He knows a lot. Most importantly, he knows ABOUT being a POPS. Randall is a self-described “hands-on grandparent, hoping to help raise five good humans.”

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After the emotions, comes thought:

A THEORY of JUSTICE
(A theory, a book by John Rawls)

Changes anyone???

1. Who was John Rawls?

• A philosopher who taught at Oxford, Cornell, M.I.T. and Harvard.

• Famous for his Theory of Justice, and his book by that title, which sold 200,000 copies, and spawned 5,000 articles, papers, and other books (and counting).

2. What is Rawls’s Theory of Justice?

• Concerns SOCIAL JUSTICE.

• Rawls, essentially sees “Justice as fairness.”
  He establishes justice, or fairness, through a hypothetical “Veil of Ignorance.”
  Meaning? Meaning we imagine agreeing to the rules of society—fairness and justice—without knowing our place in society, our class, social status, assets, intelligence, etc, to which we might add race, gender, sexual orientation, abilities, or any other imaginable demographic.

In other words, what rules for a fair society would we write beforehand if none of us knew who we’d be in this world? This “Veil of Ignorance” should lead to fair rules, and laws to enforce them.

3. So.
Question: If we were to seek to form a more just society using Rawls’s theory, what changes would we make.

4. Let us remember: Justice is a coin with which we purchase peace.

5. With a tip of our hat to JFK, shall we acknowledge: “Those who make peaceful change impossible, make violent change inevitable.”

Hope.

By Randall O’Brien

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Thank you Randall—for friendship, for shining the light on things I would have not seen otherwise.

CLICK HERE TO READ RANDALL’S ESSAY: A Bronze Star for Brenda

GOOD TIMES BAD TIMES

In the days of my youth
I was told what it means to be a man
Now I've reached that age
I've tried to do all those things the best I can
No matter how I try
I find my way to the same old jam
Good times, Bad times
You know I’ve had my share
When my woman left home
With a brown eyed man
Well, I still don't seem to care

So sang Led Zeppelin in 1969, in their song “Good Times Bad Times”. As an 18 year-old, I stupidly thought I could relate to that first stanza and still do--until you get to lines 9 through 11. Trying to ponder those lines today, I'm sure that if My Amazing-Missus were to leave home with a brown-eyed man, I would care deeply. Would I blame her? I'm not even going to speculate.

I loved this song. I loved the whole album. I remember playing it in a loop on the 8-track player in my 1940 Ford. While the poetry of the lyrics was worth the price of purchase, John Bonham's drum licks were the thing that kept me coming back. Just listen to what he does on Good Times Bad Times! At 18, those times seemed more simple, more good. Easier.

Of course the fact is that 1968 and 1969 and 1970 were some of the most tumultuous times in our nation's history: the assassinations of John Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr. Race riots, political unrest. A war with no end in sight. Protests over that war and the Kent State University killings.

And today? Are you ready for some good times or at least some good news?

These days, in my head, I'm drawing parallels between that Summer of '69 when I was 18 and this Summer of my 69th Year. I can say without doubt that in every season there are Good Times and Bad Times at the same time.

“We cannot be happy if we expect to live all the time at the highest peak of intensity. Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony. Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alternation of sound and silence there would be no rhythm.”

— Thomas Merton from essays published in 1955 titled "No Man Is An Island

That title, "No Man Is An Island", reminds me of the Simon & Garfunkel song, "I Am A Rock. I Am An Island". So, which is it?

Think about where we are right now, if we assume that we are where the headlines of the day put us (although there’s some question about that). Now read Paul Simon's lyrics:

I Am a Rock
By Paul Simon

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December
I am alone
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow
I am a rock I am an island

I've built walls
A fortress deep and mighty
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship, friendship causes pain
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain
I am a rock I am an island

Don't talk of love
I've heard the words before
It's sleeping in my memory
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died
If I never loved I never would have cried
I am a rock I am an island

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armor
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb
I touch no one and no one touches me
I am a rock I am an island

And a rock feels no pain
And an island never cries

Let's consider the coronavirus as one of those current headlines. Some wisdom says isolation is prudent, and while it comes to physical contact at least for a time that may be true, but if we hunker down and bunker down and say stupid stuff like: "Not my Circus, not my monkeys" we sound as crass and naive as Simon's protagonist. I saw a report of a few politicians calling this the "Wuhan Virus". That is irresponsible, destructive and brings nothing to the quest of finding solutions. The solution, whatever it is, will be found as a community through cooperation, honesty, wisdom, scientific knowledge and prayer; not in idealogical isolation and fortress-building.

I was idealistic at 18. I am idealistic at 69. I believe that Good Times and Bad Times come and go together. Like Merton said, "...without the alternation of sound and silence there would be no rhythm."

BIG QUESTION?

THERE’S THAT PHASE kids go through around three or four, their favorite word is “Why?” You know the one. We offer a crescendo of answers (as if there is an answer that will pacify them).

Because one ice cream sandwich is enough… You’ll spoil your supper… You’ve had too much sugar already… You don’t want all your teeth to rot and fall out do you?

Then finally, you thrown down your coup de grâce: “Because I said so!”

AS WE AGE, the questions change; the routine, not so much. Can I get a new (fill in the blank)? Are we almost there? Can I have the car tonight? And my go to answer: “Ask your mother.”

I remember about half-way through adolescence I began to long for adulthood, when I thought I would either have all the answers, or I could at least answer my own questions. But here I am staring at 69 and I still have questions, and many times the answers I find are unfulfilling: “That’s just the way the electoral college works.” “Yes, tattoos sort of hurt.”

Just the other day, a close friend asked me a question. He put it this way: “Hey, I want to ask you a question and I want an honest answer.”

“Sid’s in El Reno!” I quickly answered, hoping he was going to ask me my favorite burger joint.

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“What is your concept of heaven?” He asked.

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When it comes to burgers, Sid’s is about as close as you get. But, he wasn’t talking about burgers.

Was this a trick question? Does he know something I don’t? Is it a test?

Certainly, there are ideas and imagary, in my head of heaven which come from my upbringing in church. As I page through those mental pictures now, I see that much of it comes from the old hymns I grew up hearing:

• “I’ll Fly Away”

• “We’re Marching to Zion”

• “When We All Get To Heaven”

• Or this from the old hymn, “Sweet Beulah Land”:
  I'm kind of homesick for a country
  To which I've never been before.
  No sad goodbyes will there be spoken
  For time won't matter anymore.

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I told my friend that at this point in my life, to say that I have a concept of heaven would seem pretty arrogant. Who am I to even guess what it may be like? Or, to quote the latest and greatest opus on heavenly speculation: “I Can Only Imagine”.

Part of my mental heavenly tableau comes from memories I have of traveling evangelists. I always thought of them as arrogant, pompous, flashy, hucksters. These guys would stand in the pulpit telling of a place with mansions, streets of gold, painless eternal youthfulness. One guy went as far as to say he believed everyone would be 33 years old. Rationale: “Because that’s how old Jesus was when he died.”

I remember thinking, surely heaven won’t be an eternity of hearing this blowhard and his ilk rant and rave and wag his finger and King James version of the Bible in the air.

And then, as if he were reading my mind, he would seem to insinuate that anyone who didn’t see things as he sees things wouldn’t make it past the pearly gate (or is it gates?).

Before anyone begins to wonder if I’ve abandoned the faith of my youth; I do believe there is a heaven, I just don’t think any human has the capacity to conceptualize it. Our imagination is too limited. Our vocabulary lacks the words. Our faith is too constrained. Our belief is too conditional. Our understanding of God is too small.

TAKE PEACE FOR EXAMPLE—the kind of peace the Bible talks about, the kind of peace that passes understanding (Philippians 4:7). Occasionally you get a sense of this peace (or, I hope you do), and when you do it is wonderful, but you can’t explain it or even understand it. There is a mystique about it.

For me, spiritual stuff is like that; and I like it that way. I don’t want a predictable, understandable, knowable religion. I want the mystery, the wonder. I’m okay with NOT knowing what it will all be like.

About that peace that passes understanding; we can get a sense of it from time to time. Here’s an example: not long ago, standing next to my dad as he died; at first, I couldn’t believe he had breathed his last breath. I even slapped his hand a few times to try to rouse him. But then———Peace. I don’t know how else to explain it. Because it is unexplainable. It passes understanding. Please don’t patronize me by pretending you understand it. Don’t try to preacher-splain it to me. Don’t try to dismiss it with some contrived rationalization or spiritualization. Please don’t assume a lack of faith. Can’t we just rest in the mystery of it?

I believe, as with this un-understandable peace, we also get an occasional glimpse of heaven—not a grasp, but a glimpse. For me, I see it in the sublime. The sublime defined in the Oxford Dictionary as: “of such excellence, grandeur, or beauty as to inspire great admiration or awe.”

TAKE NATURE FOR EXAMPLE—some people see heaven as a mountain-top experience, thinking the valley is full of shadows of death. But I’m more of a valley guy (not the 80s dudes of southern California, counterpart to the Valley Girls) when it comes to the vast splendor of the mountains. Sure the mountaintop offers majestic views, but of what?

“We’ve got some difficult days ahead, but it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to the mountaintop … I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land.” A few hours after this speech, Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated by James Earl Ray.

That’s a powerful glimpse! A perspective from the mountaintop seems to belong to true visionaries.

For me, I prefer to be knee deep in the mountain stream, the deepest point of the valley, where there is life. Here are a few of my favorite lines from literature, from one of my favorite books, “A River Runs Through It”, by Norman Maclean:

“Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

“I am haunted by waters.”

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TAKE ART FOR EXAMPLE: I see the sublime and get a glimpse of heaven in art.

“If a work of art is rich and vital and complete, those who have artistic instincts will see its beauty, and those to whom ethics appeal more strongly than aesthetics will see its moral lesson. It will fill the cowardly with terror, and the unclean will see in it their own shame.” — Oscar Wilde

Experiencing art is sensory: full-on, right? Whether it’s a walk through The Met, or The Philbrook, or sitting at a beautifully decorated table to an artful meal surrounded by good people and good conversation with good music playing in the background. Full-0n sensory. And even that sometimes passes understanding for me. There are times I get the inkling that I may have another sense beyond the five. I can’t explain it. But, what if, maybe one of these days as heaven-dwellers, we discover that we now have seven or maybe more senses? Because maybe it will take that many.

I’ll never forget the first time, my first Grand-Girl, the one who made me Pops, played her first piano recital. I was transported: how or where, I don’t know. It’s un-understandable to me. But, it gives me a glimpse.

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So, what is my concept of heaven? Maybe it will be many, many firsts—new and fresh every day. Like this:

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;

therefore I will wait for him.”

— Lamentations 3:22-24