It's a Day That Begs a Question, or Two, Thing

Dear America,

can't even remember where we were at
before settling in for a long winter's nap.

No matter.

The world keeps on keepin' on.
The Drudge Report keeps on drudging along.
While some people just get up and quit [check out Cheney, here].

It has become crystal clear over the last several weeks, that I seem to live a monk's life in comparison to the level of activity of many.... starting at the first crack of dawn and looking no further than extended family joyfully joining us for the holidays.

My house usually entertains three souls -- my girl, my boo, and me -- and it's pretty darn quiet.   Much like church mice, the three of us scurry around while deep into our own thoughts -- contemplative, springing internal, noise and everyday combustion remains purposefully out of range, choosing to watch the world be busy if we want to from the panoramic view.

We read.

We write.

We pray.

We cook.

We think.

And every once in a while, we spin off to be industrious, alive and doing our thing, being in relationship with others... unveiling our other side -- the one that actually likes talking and being engaging with others.

And just like that, we slip out of our robes and slip into a brand new mode, maybe even flashing a high kick or two, and begin parading around looking more Monk-ette (it's half monk and  half Rockette...and ooooh rah, the making up of words on the fly is a good sign for the old G thing, but I digress). 

But anywho, we integrate tuning in and tuning out as if on remote control.

We like our quiet.

I like my world to be at peace, as well.

Hate conflict of all kinds.  Avoid it usually, at all costs.

Isn't it sad with what has happened in Fallujah.  What a waste of industry, of life, of limb, of military funds, making any attempt to bring Iraq into a brand new day.  For what?  All to have Al Queda swoop in and snap it up and after the loss of thousands of lives later?

And since it was mentioned nearly right at the start -- have you seen the headlines of Drudge?  Every single day.  Every single day, the most horrific collection of news, of culture, of humanity and of the times is brought to the center fold.  It is one of the most unsettling places to land on the web in the every day -- and yet we must.  Matt Drudge takes a pulse of America and she isn't pretty.  What are we doing to ourselves, huh?


My Sunday ritual includes a block of time watching T.V. Ministry over my coffee.  It usually spans a local program, Turning Point with Dr. David Jeremiah, and of course, my favorite - Joel Osteen, and a Catholic Mass from the Heart of the Nation, with the priests changing from Sunday to Sunday.

This past week, Heart of the Nation's sermon asked a question:  What do you seek?

It's a good question.

Just maybe -- what we truly seek is not found outside our front door; it's not satisfied by a standing rib roast and garlic mashed potatoes with sticky toffee cookies for dessert, as delectable as it very well may be, especially shared with the ones we love; and it's certainly not satiated by an after Christmas boon(doggle) put on plastic...let alone staying in Hawaii with just a few friends to escape the kids, the husband, and the harried public life carried on the taxpayer dime!

Perhaps the cultural divide of what America stands for, and who we are, and more important, what we seek, can be answered from the inside out.   For it MUST be answered from the inside out, one at a time, and by our lonesome.  

The call to go inward is screaming at us -- to contemplate this Life, this Liberty, and this Happiness;  all of which seem to be quite uncomfortably in flux.   These United States, these 300 million pieces of a whole, have a choice between seeking and finding the things that tear us down and do us harm  -- or the things that lift us up and bring us unity, and redemption, and assimilation into one nation.

What have we done to ourselves?

What do you seek?

The strength to mutter the questions aloud seems to be a good beginning; it's something to think about anyway.  And it just so happens to be the place this girl inaugurates a brand new day in the year of our Lord, Two Thousand and Fourteen.  Happy Monday in this new year.

Make it a Good Day, G



 

It's Not the Fence That Makes Us Good Neighbors Thing

Dear America,

if you know me, then you know it's been a quiet week of utter, simple -- and yet, for me, painfully disengaged -- absence.

...so on that note, allow me to interrupt the celebration out there and say something.

Just expecting the day to evolve, as they always do, out of one thing or another and turn into something...and just maybe, it will all be worthy of your time.

There is a Robert Frost poem that cites, "good fences make good neighbors."  In this light, the fence serves as a guard, keeping the riff-raff out and keeping the children safe; it serves as a barrier offering both sides of it equal protection under the law of this is yours and this is mine, respectfully.  It becomes the hard line between privacy and security from invasion and danger.  And just to be clear, both property and body have it.   It's like the difference between assault and assault and battery.

This week, the priest from the Heart of the Nation quoted this line of Frost's as he spoke of a passage from the Book of Luke -- specifically, The Parable of the Good Samaritan.

The passage reflects upon a question, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?"  

And Jesus, basically responds to the question with a question, what does the law tell you? 

To which the Good Book records the lesson: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind," and, "Love your neighbor as yourself."

And Jesus says, "you have answered correctly...do this and you will live."

Leaving an opportunity for further probing and testing, Jesus was then asked, "And who is my neighbor?"  To which Jesus replied with a story:

“A man wwas going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a xpriest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise xa Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a ySamaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. 34 He went to him and zbound up his wounds, pouring on zoil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 And the next day he took out two adenarii1 and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ 36 Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” 37 He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.”


At the end of reminding us of the way of The Good Samaritan, the priest rose his head and surmised to all within the sound of his voice, 'it's not the fence that makes us good neighbors...it's what is in our hearts...how we show mercy to one another.'

So go, and do likewise. 
Treat thy neighbor as thyself.

Breaking News Update: 

George Zimmerman

was found

NOT GUILTY

last night.

Passing upon the infinite similarities of the night watchman and the good Samaritan, let's return to what we know about that fateful night.   Trayvon Martin was out and about 'jumping fences' on a dark, drizzly night in Sanford, FL with Skittles in his pocket.  See more about that, here.

For a somewhat fair account following court testimony, allow me to direct you to a post from ABC's Dan Abrams to read, go here (July 1, 2013)   

[It's awfully frustrating for the media to cover this story, considering the side leaning politically and culturally correct aligns with the golden child. If perception is king, pulling for fundamental prosecution was, without a doubt, the only answer.    oh snap.   What will be a riot will be listening to the resolve and rationalization of a travesty for the ages, and undoubtedly leading up to the cry, fully supported by this media, for a second go-round in civil court. ugh.] 

George Zimmerman got his head bashed into the pavement with pictures and open wounds to prove it.   The seventeen year old young man, Trayvon -- whom the President at one time promoted the assumption "if I had a son, he'd look like Trayvon" [hmmm, but would he act like him, too? I think not...I would hope not]  -- was on top and beating the crap out of him.

And while we introduce the president -- because he, on his own, interfered with the process and mingled into the conversation right from the get-go -- let's take a moment for ethnicity clarification and it's ill-effects upon the law, and the outcome thereof [race protests].  The media, along with the supporters of Trayvon, made race of issue; and more than that, insisted on making the case white man vs. black boy. 

And thank you, Department of Justice, for picking a side of the fence, as well.  See here, for more about the Community Relations Service provided by the American taxpayer.  It's a fine line between offering mediation services and manipulating public opinion and painting a picture of innocence up against an overzealous, racist, night watchman on the loose, isn't it.  It's not only fine, it's a wee bit grey in the light of this day.

But let's get one thing straight:    Calling Zimmerman white is like calling Obama white. They are each half of one thing and half another. In Zimmerman's case, it's Peruvian.   But in the case of the United States of America, it serves the greater good better to refer to all of us as one thing, and one thing only -- American.  To serve the law synonymous with treating our neighbors as ourselves, race must be set aside; to live in community with one another, race must be set aside;  while even Martin Luther King called upon us to look upon our neighbor from a wider angle -- the content of our character, not the color of our skin. 

Remember, too, it was the 911 operator who asked, who probed, who wanted the details as to the ethnicity of Trayvon Martin; and it was the mainstream media who edited the tape to insinuate Zimmerman's actions were all about race.

Oh,  teacher, when will we ever learn?

So go, and do likewise.

Perhaps this will sound as an oversimplification of what just happened... but in the end, it was Zimmerman -- not Trayvon -- begging for mercy from his neighbor.  And it doesn't get any more complicated than that.   Trayvon could have stopped slamming the "creepy ass cracker's" head into the concrete at any time; while even his own prosecution team could not save Trayvon's family from a second blow to the heart.  The evidence was clearly not there; and what was there, was in doubt.
 
Even though, it must be said, the "Not Guilty" still amounts to the rest of Zimmerman's life sans freedom; life will never be the same; whatever life he can make for himself will be considered stolen from just a boy about to have Skittles and Watermelon Arizona Tea running through his veins.

The thing is, it's a tragedy no matter which way we look at it.  It just makes me cry for all of us.

Someone once told me, "it's not the fence that makes us good neighbors;"  it's about what is in our hearts, our minds, our soul... of a nation.   Our roots teach us everything we need to know -- whether it be about ourselves, our neighbor, our planet, or our faith in God and humanity.

Oh, Mercy, mercy, me...

We see evidence of it all the time -- in the every day, actually.

And one of these days, I hope we can all have an honest, open, loving conversation about everything under heaven.  Until then, let this be a lesson for all of us.

Make it a Good Day, G