Really? You gotta be kidding!

Both as liberals and conservatives we too easily write off this third prong of the spiritual life, rationalizing that our causes are so urgent, we are so wounded, and our world is so bad, that, in our situation, anger and bitterness are justified. But we are wrong and, as the American poet William Stafford warns, “following the wrong God home we may miss our star.” The wrong God is the God of both the contemporary right and the contemporary left, that is, the God who is as wired, bitter, anxious, workaholic, neurotic, and unhappy as we are. But that is not the God who lies at the end of the spiritual quest, who, as Julian of Norwich assures us, sits in heaven, smiling, completely relaxed, looking like a marvelous sympathy” and who agrees with Albert Camus that the real revenge on our enemies, both to the right and to the left, and on the deepest demons that haunt us, is to be madly happy.—The Holy Longing, 67–68

Merry Christmas

The Word became flesh
and made his home among us.
We have seen his glory,
glory like that of a father’s only son,
full of grace and truth. (John 1:14 CEB)

What's a person to do?

Just saw this by Ed Stetzer. Very good. Here's a snippet:

Half of Americans, and the vast majority of white Evangelicals, have elected soon-to-be President Trump. Most Evangelicals I know did so because they felt he was the best, flawed, choice they had. But, the results (and the hurt) is still here—and real.

Like many, it is my hope that Donald Trump’s presidency will be better than his campaign—that Trump will be a better President than he has been a person. But regardless, the Church must be the Church.

White Evangelicals owe it to their minority brothers and sisters in Christ, and ultimately all, to care, but also to help bring change in the Church and beyond.

<idle musing>
Indeed! I long-ago shed the label "evangelical" because of the political baggage it carries. If pressed, I would probably say I am an 18th-century evangelical in the mold of a John Wesley, who was a social progressive, establishing schools for the miners' children, appointing women to positions of authority in the Methodist movement, and standing against slavery. Somewhere along the line, probably around 1980, the Evangelical movement in the U.S. completely lost the social progressiveness and became a Republican stronghold (it had been moving that direction, but that seems to be the watershed moment).

Whomever you voted for, if you are a Christian of any stripe, you are called by God to be an agent of peace and reconciliation. The mood of the country right now is not one of peace and reconciliation. Scripture says that they will know Christians by their love. Hmmm...last time I checked love didn't mean insulting people, attacking people, etc.—and I'm talking about both left and right here. Stetzer is correct. Scripture is very clear that we need to stand with the poor, the immigrant, the marginalized.

How to do that is the question that I'm grappling with right now. I live in a small community (1500 people) that is overwhelmingly white—after all, it's made up of Scandinavians! We're five hours from a major metropolitan area. What can I do? That's the question that I'm laying before God.

Yes, I will (continue to) pray. But what else is God calling me to do?

If, God forbid, Muslims are ordered to wear armbands, I will follow the example of the Danish when the Jews were commanded to wear a star of David armband, and wear one even though I am not Muslim. But before things get that far along (if they do), what can I do?

Just musing out loud here...
</idle musing>

Where do your allegiances lie?

Saw this posted today.

However, I think we’re having the wrong discussion on this issue entirely. Instead of a constant cultural debate over the wording of the pledge, I think a better question is:

“Should a Christian recite the pledge of allegiance at all?“

Admittedly, I never once asked myself this question until the last year or two. Once I really started to consider the issue from all sides, I was actually really disappointed that it had taken me so long to actually see this issue for what it was. In the end, I have become convinced that reciting the Pledge of Allegiance is something that a Jesus follower probably shouldn’t do.

<idle musing>
Read the whole post to get context, but I believe he's correct. I haven't recited the Pledge since I became a Christian (back in 1972, for those of you wondering). I couldn't see pledging my allegiance to anyone or thing other than God.

At the time, I was a long-hair, so many assumed I was doing it as a sign of rebellion—which in a sense I was, just not the rebellion they thought. It led to many interesting conversations.

I also didn't stand for the national anthem for the same reasons...

This sometimes led to unfortunate confrontations. I remember one in particular, at the 1973 Boy Scout Jamboree in Idaho. I was on staff as a clerk at one of the Trading Posts, which left me plenty of free time for patch trading and other things. I was off-duty and sitting talking with other workers on the grass when the national anthem began. Everyone else stood up, turned around and saluted the flag as it was being raised. I remained seated. Remember, I'm a long-hair, in a Boy Scout uniform, with a staff neckerchief and an Eagle Scout badge sewn on my shirt. Sitting during the national anthem. Talk about a mess of contradictions in some people's minds...

Anyway, after the anthem, we all resumed our conversation—for about 15 seconds. Suddenly, a man in a Scoutmaster's uniform comes up to me, points his finger in my face and begins to berate me about disrespect and how it was shameful that I was allowed to wear a scout uniform. He threatened to report me to my boss and get me in some serious trouble. Without waiting to listen to any reply, he turned and stalked off.

I figured the best defense was a good offense, so I went to my boss, along with a couple of the people who had witnessed the whole thing, and told him the whole story–including why I chose not to stand. My boss promised to bear all that in mind if/when the Scoutmaster came and talked to him.

I never heard another thing about it, so I'm not sure if the Scoutmaster ever did go to my boss or if he just figured I'd be scared into submission...anyway, do read the post I've linked to and seriously consider where your allegiances lie.
</idle musing>

A tale of two faucets

Yesterday, I told what happens when a pipe breaks. But a far more common problem is that sediment breaks loose in the pipes. Think about it, these cabins are older than I am—and that's pretty old, right!—and the water has been turned on and off every year. The violence of air being blown through them can't be doing any good. So, stuff breaks loose and it needs somewhere to go. We always remove the aerators from the faucets before we flush the lines and a lot of junk comes gushing out.

But, occasionally, the debris is too big to fit through the supply lines...

When that happens, the fun—and mess—begins. This year, I had two faucets that gave me only a trickle. One was the hot water in a shower; I thought about letting it go and making everybody take a cold shower! NOT! The other was the cold water at a kitchen sink. Hey, let them use the hot water for everything! OK, not practical either.

So, you start by turning off the water or you get a huge mess—don't ask! Then, you take apart the faucet and look for debris in the valve. If there isn't any, you put a towel and bucket over the valve hole—it's just a wide open line for the water to rush (we hope!) through. Then you turn the water back on. The theory is that that without the valve, the water pressure will push all the debris out of the line. If that works, you have a clean line—and a big mess of junk to clean up. Hence, the towel and bucket to control the flood.

If that doesn't work, you start taking apart pipes until you find the problem...you always hope that the flexible supply line is the problem because a) it's the closest and b) it's easy to replace if you can't clear it.

First I attempted to clear the kitchen faucet. Unfortunately, there wasn't a water shutoff valve under the kitchen sink. In fact, I had two options: I could climb underneath the cabin next door—Spruce, the claustrophobic one!, or I could turn off the main water to the cabins at the house. I chose the house—wouldn't you? But that meant I couldn't monitor the water flow; I had to guess how long to keep it on.

Being the type who doesn't enjoy cleaning up large masses of water, I chose to start with a 5 second burst. Nothing! The towel was barely wet. Back to the house. A 10 second burst. Not much better. OK, let's get daring...45 seconds. Still not much of a flow of water. The dish tub under the sink had about an inch and the sink about 1/2 inch. Sigh...

Let's take apart the supply line...There it was, a large piece of rusty metal, can I get it out? Grab the needle-nosed pliers, shake that line to get the piece as close to the large hole as possible. Grunt, squirm, wiggle my nose, generally make it think I know what I'm doing...there. Got it! Now, put everything back together again, making sure the connections are tight. Turn the faucet off! Now turn the water back on...test the faucet. Good water flow. Any leaks? Nope. Good. Now clean up the mess and on to the next one...

The hot water was in a shower—that means the water will probably hit the far wall, but at least it won't spew on the walls of the bathroom like a tub would. Remember, its coming from the faucet, not the spout. I turned the water off—why don't any of these problem faucets have accessible shut off valves? I had two choices: Climb through a narrow crawlspace access into an alcove like crawlspace that allowed me to access the shutoff valve through some mud, or turn it off at the house. Yep, the house won again.

I took the faucet apart—the knob was corroded and stuck to the valve. A good bit of hammering and pulling with a large 18" ChannelLocks™ helped to eventually get it off. The valve itself was all brass, at least these older fittings aren't junk that corrodes and breaks the first time you apply a little pressure. But they sure are tight! It finally came out—and so did some very dirty water. That faucet was jammed with junk! I made the mistake of turning it so that the stuff would fall down before I put a towel under it...yuk! It took about 5 minutes of cleaning and blowing and cleaning before it was finally clean. Now, just put it back together and tighten everything up...not too tight or I'll break something and have a bigger mess. Clean up the shower floor—and my boots!—before I track it all over the cabin. Turn the water back on. Success!

Wasn't that fun!? It wasn't even too bad. I just had to replace two other supply lines because the compression washers were disintegrated, and one shutoff valve. Oh, and that toilet water closet...that's a story by itself for another time...