What's in a Name?

The Democratic front runner for the party's nomination is Barack Obama. There has been a lot said recently about his middle name: Hussein. Many conservative types have been using his name to stir up sentiment against him. His campaign has also been very thin-skinned about the whole thing.

Since when is wrong to use someone's middle name? We use middle names frequently when talking about presidents: John Quincy Adams, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Dwight David Eisenhower, etc. I see nothing wrong with saying Barack Hussein Obama, after all it is the guy's name.

As someone who is quite sensitive about his middle name (What on earth was my mother thinking when she gave me my middle name?!), I can sympathize with Obama's sensitivity. But grow up, for crying out loud.

At the same time, are we supposed to withhold our vote for him simply because his middle name is the same as the last name of one of the worst tyrants of our time? Just because Saddam Hussein's last name and Barack Obama's middle are the same is no reason not to vote for Obama. If anyone does not vote him solely on those grounds, they are a fool

I can think of plenty of valid reasons to not vote for him:
-Socializing health care
-Raising taxes
-Foreign policy naiveté
-His liberal policies, in general (He makes George McGovern and Walter Mondale look like Rush Limbaugh)

Was Jesus Sarcastic

It is that time of year again: tax time. Every year we are required (there is nothing voluntary about the US tax laws) to render unto Caesar what is his. (If God can live on 10%, why can't Uncle Sam?)

Some how the verse from the Bible dealing with this came up last week in my 20th Century European History class. Here is the context:

So they asked him, "Teacher, we know that you speak and teach rightly, and show no partiality, but truly teach the way of God. Is it lawful for us to give tribute to Caesar, or not?" But he perceived their craftiness, and said to them, "Show me a denarius. Whose likeness and inscription does it have?" They said, "Caesar’s." He said to them, "Then render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s." (Luke 20:21-25,ESV emphasis added.)

Was Jesus being sarcastic with this? What does Caesar own? Recall the passage from Psalm 50:10 where God says, "For every beast of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills."

If God owns everything, what can Caesar possibly own? What can any of us truly own?

I am not advocating a tax revolt. Let me make that clear, lest the IRS accuse me of such.

I had just never heard that take on this passage. It is almost as if Jesus is saying (with a tinge of sarcasm), "Who's picture is on the coin? Caesar? Sure, give it him." It is not like he really owns it.

Just the thoughts of a grumpy guy who owes the government more of my money.

My Son's Bad Month

My son cannot wait for the end of February. To say the least, it has been a bad month for him. He started the month with a broken arm. (See post from Feb. 4.) This past Sunday, he was down the street playing with some of the neighborhood kids. The two boys were hitting a ball with tennis racquets. They both swung at the ball, but my son's face got in the way. He now has a beauty of a shiner. When will March come?

Another European Elitist

My 20th Century European History class read The Revolt of the Masses by Jose Ortega y Gasset this week. Ortega is your basic elitist. The "revolt of the masses" refers to the idea that the masses are not capable of ruling themselves, but have asserted themselves. (This in the early part of the 20th century, as the book was published in 1930.) The mass should just set back and allow the capable minority lead them. This sort of thing kind of makes my stomach churn.

While it is true that some people who vote or try to make their voices heard in other ways are not informed, I do not think they should be banished from participating in the process.

When Dad is no Longer Superman

Most of us grow up thinking our dad is Superman. We run around the playground saying, "My dad is tougher than your dad!" No matter what, our dad is the best. Our dad can do no wrong. Our dad is the coolest. Our dad can throw a football better than anyone. You get the picture.

As we grow up, we come to realize--intellectually, at least--that our dad is human. He is a normal guy. This is largely intellectual, though. We still look up to our dad. It is no longer for his physical prowess as much as it for his wisdom. We seek advice from our dad about women. When we have children, we look to dad for our advice on child rearing.

I have noticed that my dad, an octogenarian, is even losing some of that. My dad is getting more easily confused. It is sad. My dad is no longer Superman, but I love him more than ever.

Actions that fail Words

The Nazarene Revolutionary Guard has an interesting post about movement of the Imperial Palace of Nazarenedom.

I used to live in the mecca of Nazarenedom. I even worked for the propaganda wing of the party, often called the Nazarene Publishing House (NPH). The old HQ was not in the best neighborhood. (NPH is in an even worse area.) The magisterial junta of the church in its selfish wisdom decided to flee the blighted area that it has called home for lo these many decades.

I see two sinister things that are driving this (and they are in no way motivated by anything remotely religious or noble):

1. You see, the Kansas City metro area is bisected by the state line between Kansas and Missouri. A great many people live on either side of the state line and work in the other state. Most of the big dogs live on the Kansas side of the metropolitan area. If one works lives in Kansas and works in Missouri (or vice versa for that matter), then one has to pay taxes in both states. They are trying to get out of "rendering unto Caesar." At the same time, many of the support staff who live in Missouri will now have to render a greater amount unto Caesar. It also means a shorter commute for the big shots.

2. The neighborhood is not a good one. (Translation: too many black folk live around the compound.) This is the upshot of the Nazarene Revolutionary Guard's argument. For all the hot air about diversity and inclusion, they have exposed themselves as hypocrites. The church has always been, currently is, and always will be lily white. Throw a couple token African-Americans on stage at General Assembly, and maybe a leadership post here or there. All talk of diversity is just that, talk.

It is a sad thing to see the Church of the Nazarene flee the inner city. Lest we forget that the founder, Phineas Bresee, founded the Church of the Nazarene in the inner city of Los Angeles where he worked with every race and color, not just good clean white folk.

Also, they are apparently shaking down churches to finance this.

Valentine's Day

Sixteen years ago my wife and I had our first date. We saw one of the greatest pieces of cinematography ever: Wayne's World.
So party on, Wayne, and party on, Garth.

Trusting God

Trusting God is one of the hardest things for must of us to do. We like to make sure we have all our bases covered. It does not really matter what it is. We fuss and worry about finances. We do everything possible to protect our kids. The thing is that the more we do this--the harder we hold onto these things--the harder is for us to give them to God. I will give you a personal example.

When I pastored our little church, I wanted to see it grow, naturally. I analyzed the data--giving patterns, attendance patterns, visitor patterns, etc.--to see where we had been and where we might go. I read books on church management, church growth, outreach and the like. Often God had to shake me up and say Wait a minute! Who's in charge here? What are you trusting in? Me or something else?

It is easy to get caught up in trusting other things.

Jesus talked about childlike faith. We need to have unreserved faith in our God to take care of us. When my daughter was younger she used stand on the couch. She would leap with all her might toward me. In mid-air, she would holler out, "Catch me, daddy!" She had absolute faith in me that I would catch her. Thankfully, I caught her. We need to leap with the faith that God will catch us.

A Soulless Continent

In my Twentieth Century European History, we were required to read a book by Mark Mazower called Dark Continent: Europe's Twentieth Century. In the book, Mazower argues that the democratic revolution that swept Europe (the West after World War II, and the East after 1989) was not a forgone conclusion. He contends that democracy was in a fight with communism and fascism/Nazism for which ideology would control the destiny of Europe. I think he is right. It is easy to survey the landscape of history and come the conclusion that whatever happened was inevitable. Nazism seemed to be the wave of the future in the late 1930s and very early 1940s.

One thing has struck me with Europe in the 20th century is the decline of the Church as a force within Europe. We also read several scholarly articles (great cures for insomnia, by the way) in which the authors have noted the decline of the Church as a contributing factor in the rise of totalitarianism.

I think this should sound a warning. A weak, ineffectual church can cause all kinds of problems. I am not speaking of the decline of the church's political influence. In fact, it is that very political influence that led to the church's decline in Europe. The church was more worried about gold than God, more concerned influence over the state than influence over the soul. As a church, our influence should not be over policy or politics, but over hearts and souls of people. We cannot abdicate that responsibility. So, whenever you hear some Christian leader say that our most important duty is to vote and select godly leaders, that is wrong. Those things are important, but our most important duty is accomplished through living relationships, not legislation.

Europe was (and perhaps still is) a continent without a soul. I pray that we, as Americans, do not lose our souls.

My Aunt Shirley

My dad's youngest sister passed away yesterday (2/7/08). She was my aunt, obviously--that's how these things work. She was also my godmother. I grew with the strange thought that if my parents ever died, I would go live with her and my uncle. (It's odd how a child's mind works sometimes.) Nevertheless, she was special lady. My uncle retired a few years ago after pastoring for many years. My aunt was the consummate "pastor's wife" (whatever that is). My uncle called her his "prayer warrior." I know she was praying for us, and especially for my wife last year while we were dealing with my wife's medical issues. I will miss her prayers. I was glad that they came out for a visit last summer. It had been ten years since I had seen them. Now, she has found her eternal rest in the arms of the Savior she loved so dearly and served so faithfully.

My aunt Shirley, may she rest in peace.

A Few Thoughts on Being Responsible

I am going through a "grumpy old man" phase right now. As my profile indicates, I teach developmental math in a community college. I love my job. I love teaching. (Can you see the "but" coming?)

However, I am more and more concerned about the lack of personal responsibility that students have or take. (I could probably blow up the Blogger server with the amount of space required for all the stories.) I have a couple examples.

First, instead of collecting paper homework, I require homework to be done on-line through a service offered by the textbook company. I have had students whine about doing homework that way before, mostly because they are either cyber-phobic or they whine about everything. This semester I have one student who has offered numerous complaints. They range from the internet connection being slow to not having time. Tough. Use the open lab at school, or make time or whatever. Just do it. If someone did not have paper access, I would not let them off the hook (if I were requiring paper homework).

Another is test related. You must have an excused absence (doctor's note, court summons, etc.) in order to make up a test. Here is how the conversation goes:

Student: When can I make up the test?
Me: Do you have an excused absence?
Student No, but I was sick.
Me: Do you have a doctor's note.
Student: No, but I was sick.
Me: I am sorry to hear that, but you need a doctor's note to make up the test. That is what the syllabus says.
Student: But...
Me: I am sorry.
Student: So, it's a zero.
Me: Yes.

Like I said, there are more. As a parent, my instinct is to try to rescue my kids when they are in trouble, but I have to learn to let them learn life lessons. Our actions have consequences. If I run full speed into a brick, what will happen? I want to do it and not get hurt. The reality is, despite what I really want to happen, I will get hurt. Actions have consequences, no matter how we wish they did not.

Good Riddance

Bobby Knight finally quit. I say "good riddance." We are no longer subject to his ridiculous antics.
One thing I will say for him is that he got a lot of effort from teams that were not as talented as other teams. (Stalin also made productive gains in the Soviet Union with less than other nations.)

19 and NOT: I missed it!

Well the Patriots choked. Tom Brady had laughed at the prediction of Plaxico Burris that the Patriots would score 17. I guess Plaxico was giving the Pats too much credit.

(With apologies to Michael Vick.) I didn't have a dog in this fight. I am fan of neither team. I would have liked to see the Pats win to smack that hoity-toity smirk off the faces of those old grouches: the '72 Dolphins. (Yeah. We get it. They were a great team. Shut up, now.)

I am also glad that the Giants won, because I don't care for Belichick.

The thing is: I missed all of it. About one minute into the game, my son (the 7-year-old who wound up in the ER at camp last summer) complained that his arm hurt and couldn't move it. So my wife and I trekked to the urgent care. We waited, and waited, and waited. All the while the TV in the lobby was tuned to the Biggest Loser. Just before half-time, I changed the channel. Then we were called back, and waited some more. X-rays, poking and prodding took place. They determined it was likely a small break at the elbow. They did not see a definite break on the x-ray, but they saw some swelling on the x-ray that concerned him. They splinted him up and put his arm in a sling. We were then off. I switched on the radio in the car and listened to the last two desperate Tom Brady passes.

From what I have heard on the local news, I didn't miss much because our pitiful local Fox affiliate botched up the transmission. It seems they mess up every big event. A few years ago during the World Series they kept losing the signal. During the Giant-Cowboys playoff game, they completely lost the sound for half the game. I guess that is what you get with drunk hamsters running a TV station.

Happy Groundhog Day

February 2 is the day that Americans abdicated their meteorological prognostication to a rodent. Despite what the weather is actually like, or what well educated meteorologists say, we drag some poor groundhog from his slumber in Pennsylvania to tell us if spring is "just around the corner," or if we still have "six weeks of winter" left. Come to think of it, after some of the forecasts that I have seen from meteorologists, perhaps the groundhog is more capable than they are.