Johnny
March 14^th, 2010

            I was young and energetic to the point of annoyance.  Living in Louisiana , I hooked up with a couple dozen other friends and acquaintances who were interested in the arts, and we began to work together and formed a fellowship so we could pursue projects of the creative sort, laced with entertainment and inspiration.  We met once a week at an H & R Block building, rented to us because it wasn’t tax season.  We jokingly said that it certainly would be a facility Jesus would love, considering how he formed union with the tax collectors and sinners.

            We had only been in the H & R Block building for about two weeks when a young man in his early twenties came through our door.  He was a heavy-set chap with a big, broad smile and a gentle spirit—a bit slow of speech.  His name was Johnny.  Johnny liked fried chicken.  He made this very clear to us within the first ten minutes of conversation.  Johnny was homeless, dwelling somewhere in the neighborhood and was always looking for an opportunity to procure a meal.  Since we were the new kids on the block, he had decided to try us out.

            Fortunately for Johnny, there was a chicken joint right next to our H & R Block building and I walked over there with Johnny and bought him some chicken.  The manager was a kind fellow who gave Johnny a very generous portion and meal for just two dollars. 

Well, it became a daily ritual.  About lunchtime Johnny would pop into our converted tax building, seeking a bit of fellowship and nourishment.  We obliged on both counts.  He always wanted me to play the piano while he ate his chicken and he always clapped his hands and cried at the same time—a delightful blending which I shall never forget.

He came out to our meeting one night in a particularly open and verbal state, and shared with us about his life and his dreams.  Even as I tell you the story I can recall the warmth and tenderness of those moments with him.

            Tax season rolled around again, and our little conclave had to seek another location, which ended up being about four miles away.  But as far as Johnny was concerned, it was on another planet.  We tried to figure out how to get him a place near us, or to stay in contact, but after about a week we lost track of him. 

Having not seen him for about twelve days, I drove over to the chicken establishment and asked the manager about him.  He said Johnny had an episode and had been taken to the twelfth floor of the university hospital—the mental ward.  I climbed in my car and drove over and went up to the twelfth floor and asked one of the doctors if I could see Johnny.  Even though I wasn’t family, they saw no harm in the visitation.

 He didn’t recognize me.  He didn’t remember the chicken, the songs, the clapping or the tears.  Fully medicated and all senses dulled, Johnny was in a new place where I could not reach him.  I left, telling him I would return.  He didn’t even look up.  I never did go back.

At first I tried to muster some guilt over moving away and losing contact with my young friend.  Then I realized there was nothing I could do about that, and it was just the way life is. 

Many of the encounters we have with other human beings are brief and only last a season. 

Knowing this, we should always make sure it’s springtime.  

The Heart Pocket
March 13^th, 2010

            Located somewhere in the human emotions is a pocket—a storage area for unused feelings.  The interesting thing is that it really only holds two different sensations.  Which one are you storing?  The answer to that question will determine your level of contentment.

            The heart pocket.  Placed within that pocket are two reactions—frustration and appreciation. 

 It’s really quite humorous that we think frustration is something we should tuck away and hide so we appear to be calm and patient people.  And appreciation is something we’re instructed to pour out with a whole series of often contrived “pleases” and “thank-yous.”

            The difficulty is that stored frustration always leads us to accidental anger, making us look like mad dogs instead of Englishmen.  We just keep tucking it away until finally it spills out at the most bizarre moments, making us look extremely irrational—like some sort of beast foaming at the mouth.

            It all begins with the understanding that life is not easy, but also that life is not hard.  Life is universally inconvenient.  

Once you accept the fact that life will never do exactly what you plan it to do, or react the way you anticipate, that some form of twist and surprise will be added to the planning, then you will thoroughly mature and comprehend life on earth.

             Inconvenience IS life.

            So if you choose to be naïve and pretend that things are supposed to work out the way they were drawn up on the boards, you will experience immediate frustration.  Now—what do you do with that frustration?

            The Bible says “be angry and sin not.”  Anger is merely stating that you know that inconvenience has occurred, so rather than storing it away as frustration, you would rather voice your awareness and disapproval now.  If I get in a traffic jam, I don’t sit there quietly, pretending to be patient.  I look for an exit.  I converse with the person in the car about what’s going on, or we channel the inconvenience into a fruitful discussion.  But we never pretend that it’s all right.  That buries frustration away in the heart pocket.

            On the other hand, I have a hundred—or maybe even a thousand—things that happen every day that I whisper a thank you for, and place tenderly into my heart pocket, to retrieve later during one of those inconvenient times when I’m tempted to turn into the mad dog.

            You see, patience is not restraining from becoming angry or frustrated.  Patience is consuming the appreciation that we’ve tucked away in our heart pocket until sanity rallies an answer.  The only way I’m able to be a patient man is to have a storage locker full of appreciation for life, others, health, goodness and tenderness that I’ve stored away for the ongoing rainy day we call human existence.

            Those who tend to bite their lip, squirreling away their frustrations in their heart pocket, feeling they’re being very mature, will, in times when patience will be needed, end up consuming the bitterness of previous disappointment instead of the sweet delicacy of retained appreciation.

            So let’s simplify.  Life is inconvenient.   When it’s inconvenient, it is better to speak it aloud and deal with it in the moment rather than try to pretend that we’re patient and later find ourselves exploding in a fit of rage over someone cutting us off in traffic.  Appreciation is the awe and wonder that we feel when the inconvenience of life actually is not as bad as it appeared it was going to be, and the lanes of traffic open sooner than expected, and we tuck that piece of joy away for later use when things are not quite as bright and sunny.

            The heart pocket.  Everyone has one.  Everyone stores.  If you try to fake patience, you will accumulate frustration and—at the most inopportune times—you will strike out and release your venom on those you least want to hurt.

            If you store away appreciation for when inconvenience wasn’t quite as bad as you thought it was going to be, those kudos and thank-yous will pour forth in the form of patience at the times you most need it.

            So think about it.  Which is better?  To voice your concern in the moment over an unfairness, without heat or rage?  Or to tuck it away in your heart pocket and have it leap out at a most unexpected time? 

            So stick it in your pocket.  Just make sure it’s something that appreciates instead of depreciates.   

Give Me “Four to Go”
March 12^th, 2010

            So to my dear friend in New Braunfels whom I met last Sunday morning at Peace Lutheran Church , who posed the question to me, “What would you suggest we do in the church and our government to make this a better world?”—well, to you, dear sir, I am closing off my answer to that question today.  I understand it is five days late, but to avoid the cliché of “better late than never,” let me just conclude that the assignment is complete and at this point, I am just looking for extra credit.

            The four to go?

Confront mediocrity—mainly in ourselves.  We must realize that human behavior is a series of displacements.  If you don’t have self-discovery in the forefront of your thinking, self-deception will bring all of its baggage and settle in and make a home.  I am often mediocre; I am often lazy, which causes me to pursue the futility of finding an easier way to do things, lending itself to the inevitable conclusion of nothing getting done.  When people see that we are willing to confront our own mediocrity, there is much less need for us to confront theirs.  When there is no incrimination allowed for acting dumb, then dumb people will be willing to admit their clumsiness.

And after we confront mediocrity, we should acknowledge goodness.  Admitting to oneself that the tendency to be negative is pernicious and present is the beginning of finding good things to think on and good things to bring to the forefront.  If negative is normal, then positive becomes the Godly.

Next, we should applaud progress.  I get very weary when I hear people say, “Well, it’s not what I wanted but I guess it’ll do.”  Somewhere along the line in this new black-and-white consciousness we live in, the absence of appreciation of progress has caused us to be unwilling to start anything we don’t think we can finish.  That’s too bad.  Because sometimes progress is all we have.  If we’re waiting for completion we are more likely to be frustrated or just downright inert.

And finally, to make this a better church and country, we need to celebrate excellence—and we need to agree that excellence begins at five thousand two hundred and eighty-one feet—the first step into the second mile.  The first mile is what needs to be done.  The second mile is what I decide to do because I want to and also, what I know will lighten the load for the morrow.

There you go, dear soul from New Braunfels .  There are my four suggestions—and I’ll even make them simpler for us:

1. Joke more about yourself.
2. Walk away from gossip and negative discussions.
3. Notice small changes.
4. When you finish a task, see if you’ve got one more ounce of energy left to dot all the i’s and cross the t’s.

Complete.  At least for now.

Four days, plus this day of summary, to put it all together, so that you can discover, just like the name of your church—Peace—that true peace is not the passive absence of conflict.  Rather, it is the aggressive activity of stopping the war.  

Celebrate Excellence
March 11^th, 2010

            Five thousand, two hundred and eighty-one feet.  Do you know what that number is? 

It’s the beginning of the second mile.  It’s when we exceed expectation and begin to enter a realm of our own creation, our own passion and our own design.  It’s what we all think we want—until we reach down and peer at the price tag.  What keeps us from it?  What keeps us from being a generation that pursues excellence instead of eschewing it?

            My experience over the years has told me that there is a five-step process in human behavior. 

Step 1.  What I do.  Honestly, because we’re all the Sons of Adam, we have a tendency to end up performing just enough to keep us from the jaws of criticism. 

Step 2.  What I could do.  I think everybody finishes off projects knowing deep in their heart they had the talent and ability to do just a little bit more, but sometimes it’s easier to come up with a rationale instead of motivation to do better.

Step 3.  What I want to do.  Somebody the other day asked me why I thought people seemed to have such disgruntled attitudes and scrunched-up faces.  Dare I say I do believe it’s because most of us have an idea of what we want to do and have a bit of disgust with ourselves over what we finally end up settling on doing.  But because it’s hard to be mad at yourself too long, we’d rather just carry an air of disfavor towards the whole planet.

The next looming step—Step 4—is what needs to be done.  Are you ready for a shocker?  We have finally arrived at the first mile.  Because what I do, what I could do and even what I want to do often fall short of what needs to be done—the first mile.    What needs to be done is a tough cookie because it doesn’t have anything to do with our desire, just the moan and groan of the aching, existing need.

And the final step—Step 5—is:  What is excellence?  And excellence happens when what needs to be done is completed and we decide to do just a little bit more so there’s a little less work the next time.  You see, that’s the value of excellence.  It’s a decision to temporarily achieve above the norm so that ultimately, there is less that has to be accomplished later.  Because laziness does not take away the need for the job to be done—it just puts it off until there is much more work later.

            To make our society more realistically creative and happy, we need to begin to deal with these five steps and find out where we are at any given moment with any given project and make adjustments accordingly.  Because a society that starts passing out certificates of participation instead of celebrating excellence will soon be smothered in an avalanche of incomplete tasks.

In our churches and in our government we need some bold leaders who will tell us when we have failed to start, when we have begun but need to persevere, when we have reached the first mile, and finally, encourage us to go on to five thousand, two hundred and eighty-one feet—commencing the second mile.

I know we extol the virtue of worship, but the weakness of worship is that it commemorates former deeds instead of celebrating ongoing victories.  Church needs to become a time of not just worship, but celebration of the quest in faith that we are taking on—a quest that has progressed us past mile marker one into new uncharted territory.

Celebrate excellence. 

Ask yourself a simple question. 

How long can I continue to be disappointed in my efforts before I finally give up on my life? 

Applaud Progress
March 10^th, 2010

            So my buddy from New Braunfels and I have been having this Internet conversation, with tens of thousands of you peeking in, about what needs to be done in the spiritual and political realms to improve our status. 

So far we’ve come up with: confront mediocrity.  I think all of us can find things in our lives that are mediocre and upgrade our efforts without losing too many self-esteem points. 

And then yesterday we spoke of acknowledging goodness.  If we don’t have a purposeful attempt to point out goodness when we see it, all the dark reports will soon cast a shadow over all human endeavor.  I even suggested that you start a “Goodness Report” in the church bulletin—and you will know how desperately it is needed when the mere mention of beginning it is greeted by a snide comment from someone in the office saying, “Well, what would we put in it?”

Exactly.

But I think the third thing we have to learn to do is: applaud progress. 

I use the word “applaud” because we do not have a whole lot of ways to express appreciation in our American culture.  I have an ongoing comical battle with the churches I perform in each week over the issue of applause.  Religious people contend that all praise and applause belong to God (which, by the way, they usually fail to provide anyway).  But clapping our hands is a way that we simultaneously express joy AND support for an idea. 

And God knows we need to support some great ideas.

One of the ideas that needs to be supported and applauded is progress.  I grow weary sometimes hearing people talk about “goals,” because they are often aspirations in the distance with very few signposts of progress along the way. 

Here’s a shocker.  Most of us will not achieve our goals, so we’d better learn to applaud and appreciate our progress.

I had someone ask me, “How do we know we’re making progress?”

Progress cannot be achieved without forming two lists.  At the top of one list put the word “MORE,” and at the top of the other list, write the word “LESS.”  Then complete them.  What do we need more of in our church, our family, our society and our government?  And then, on the other hand, what do we need less of, to assure that we’re moving forward? 

I think every church in America should do this, and then give a weekly update during the announcements about advancements and progress on the MORE and LESS lists.  Make sure that items on the lists are very specific. 

Case in point:  it may be a noble notion to say we should “love each other more,” but much too general to assess for progress in a weekly format.  How about this?  We need more of saying, “Please.”  “Thank you.”   “I appreciate that.”   And “I see what you’re doing.” 

It might be nice to place on the LESS list the words “Strife” and “Hatred.”  But a more practical presentation could be, “We need less complaining and criticism and more ideas that can be implemented in a realistic way.”  Yes, the more specific your lists are, the easier it will be to note progress. 

And then, let the applause begin.

Yes, it is time that we as a people applaud the progress we see as we recognize the need in our lives and the culture around us and begin to address those, more or less, one at a time.

You might ask, Why applause?  Why not a prayer?  Why not a moment of silence?  Why not just an old fashioned ‘atta boy!’? 

Because clapping the hands combines joy with conviction—and when those two come together, we get the sense of fellowship and agreement that causes things to get done.  Yes, we need to applaud progress, because maybe we will never meet our goal.  God, I’m sure of that.  I will never be all that I can be.  So I need to learn to applaud the progress I see.  If we begin to make progress it will allow for momentum and the energy of the joy and conviction of applause to generate new excitement for the function of repentance. 

So clap your hands, all ye people!  Shout unto God with the voice of triumph! 

A little bit different than the normal prelude, don’t you think?  A little bit more human?   And more or less, a sign of progress.

Acknowledge Goodness
March 9^th, 2010

I personally am a fan of building codes.

For instance, I like it that universally when you walk into a building, if you reach on the wall next to the door, there should be a light switch.  What a great idea.  I imagine some people objected at first to that rule being put into place.  But then they walked into a dark building one night and reached over against the wall and gratefully flicked a switch.  Perhaps that is what is missing from our society today.  Where is the light switch? 

It leads me to the second point that I would have shared with my friend in New Braunfels on Sunday if my brain hadn’t coagulated into mush. 

Because after we confront mediocrity, it is important that we acknowledge goodness.  Turn on the light. 

As human beings, we are going to basically react and therefore enact the majority of information that pounds or peppers our brain.  If that majority is bad news, evil, deception or intimidation, we will naturally begin to believe that the world is a dark, gloomy and ugly place.  If there isn’t an instinct placed within us—no, let me change that—a decision rendered in our souls to find goodness, we will allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by the disappointment that surrounds us.

On Sundays I read church bulletins and they tell me about the upcoming events, meetings and spiritual possibilities.  But the bulletins never report on how these meetings and conclaves turn out.  We threaten goodness; we even sometimes advertise that it might be in proximity.  But we never report back the testimony of its effects.  Yet in every church bulletin, you’ll have a listing of the sick, a write-up on a tragedy that needs financial assistance or a posting of prayer requests of threatening doom.

Where is the goodness?  Without the ability to acknowledge goodness, we become individuals who are constantly walking around with a crinkled brow or flinching at the sound of approaching difficulty.  Yes—I think every church bulletin should contain a goodness report.  “This week we saw goodness occur in the following ways.” 

I think one of the weaknesses in the mainline denominational churches I go to is that the worship services close with a benediction and prayer instead of a time for people to acknowledge the goodness and richness they just experienced during the worship encounter.

We are people who need to acknowledge goodness or we will focus our entire thrust and mind-set on badness.  It’s the same thing in the political world.  We do not hear of the victories of our democracy, but mainly are bombarded by the ongoing arguments of the Democrats and Republicans.  The most susceptible infection in the human experience is a loss of belief in goodness.  We all catch it quicker than the common cold, yet there is no Vitamin C for it and there is no attempt to ward off the germs of desperation. 

If we are going to improve the spiritual and political outlook in our country, we must have a means to acknowledge goodness.  I don’t really care how you do it, but for everybody who brings up a piece of disillusionment or frustration, there must be an assertion of hope and purpose.  If not, we begin to open up our human-emotion crayon box and color our world with only brown, black and gray.

Yes, we must confront mediocrity.  Because mediocre is the ice that we slip on that causes us to break our spirit.  But we also most certainly must acknowledge the goodness we see in our world.  I don’t care if you report the news just as long as there’s a portion of your broadcast that telegraphs the goodness that occurred in the midst of the destitution. 

We can’t have church unless goodness is extolled.  If we’re only going to talk about sin, weakness, illness, frailty and failure, we need to close the doors of our institution before we further inflict our Doomsday-Danny philosophy on anyone else.

A good news report.

Why don’t we start out with the fact that light switches are usually right inside the door so you don’t have to walk into the dark?

Interesting.  Maybe that’s true for everything.

Confront Mediocrity
March 8^th, 2010

I spent yesterday morning with Pastor Gary and the dear hearts at Peace Lutheran in New Braunfels , Texas—a wonderful knap-sack of memories for my pernicious journey.  At the end of the morning, as I was just getting ready to pack up and leave, a gentleman walked in the door and said, “One final question.  What do you think politics and the church should do to make this a better world?”

He caught me a bit off-guard.  Let’s just say I wasn’t prepared to give an eloquent answer in the moment, so I promised him I would address it in this week’s Jonathots.  So, in honor of my dear friend and the good souls of Peace and those who seek a lasting peace everywhere, let me tell you what I think step one should be in a process to gain our sanity in the midst of all the garbled, over-stated philosophies.

Confront mediocrity.

Those are two words we don’t like to talk about in this country anymore.  It seems we’ve lost the intestinal fortitude to confront and are frightened to death to refer to an effort as mediocre, lest someone put a microscope on our attempts.  So we’ve developed a mantra.  “This is what I have so deal with it.”

In the process of compromising quality and taking polls to determine what’s right and wrong, we have become a church that no longer aspires to the higher notions of Jesus and a society that punches a time clock, always trying to cheat the system and leave early.  Mediocrity is mediocre.  And mediocre is less than what we anticipated or needed.  And less than what we anticipated or needed is insufficient—no matter how many ways you try to spin it.

We are so busy giving religious people absolution and creating a coddled environment that there is no time for the cleansing manifesto of Jesus Christ to enter humanity and do its marvelous, mystical work.  And in Washington , there is an acquiescence to the inevitable gridlock of grimness which renders those we elected insipid, instead of empowered with the responsibility to represent us wisely.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with saying, “This is what I have,” as long as it’s followed by, “Help me find a way to make it better.”

I don’t know what I’ll be doing on the day of my death.  I don’t know whether I’ll be killed, have a heart attack or succumb to disease.  But I do know this—I will be fighting the good fight the whole way.  I will be reviewing my life with the inspiration to make it richer and more real,and I will be keeping a sense of humor about my inadequacies instead of pretending they don’t exist.

If we’re going to have church, we have to be prepared to confront the mediocrity in our lives and not just create well-typed prayers of pretext and apology to gain temporary forgiveness for being lesser than we might have become if we would just have kept going. 

So what is the first step in making a better church and better government?  Stop believing that the congregation or the populous is supposed to be salved instead of saved.  Without condemnation, speak the truth in love.  Let the discussion ensue.  Allow the chips to fall where they may.  And let the spirit of God convince us to take another crack at it.

As long as we believe that church is a way we like to worship instead of a way to discover our better selves, we will water down the power of communion to a nasty, lukewarm cup of swill.  And as long as we believe or contend that politics is about parties instead of pursuing the common good, we will be stuck with fund-raisers instead of law-makers.

What is the most productive way to confront mediocrity? 

1. First and foremost, find it in ourselves.
2. Show the silliness.  Keep the humor in it and let the spirit do the convicting.
3. Stubbornly refuse to continue until we’re satisfied we really have discovered—or at least addressed—a better way.  For after all, failure is inevitable. Futility is to be avoided.

So to answer my friend from New Braunfels, step one to making a better church and a better government is to confront mediocrity instead of embracing it as our traveling companion—the great charade. 

            Step two I think I’ll give you tomorrow, if that’s not too mediocre.