Tony Snow passed away early this morning, following a long fight with colon cancer. He was the public image standard for Conservatism. While he certainly held to his Conservative convictions, to my knowledge he never vilified his opponents, nor did he break out in anger. He was more than likely to make you laugh with his extremely intelligent wit. He was his own thinking man, as I remember President George W. Bush commenting on how Tony called “Dubya” on the proverbial carpet for some of his ideas. In watching some clips run, one thing that comes to mind is his love for family and life in general. I do believe he loved Jesus too. Extremely recent Tim Russert, now Tony Snow … our American media is sorely worse off now for the loss of both of these icons of integrity.
Picture from: http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2006/05/images/20060516-4_p051606pm-0531-1-515h.html
Bill O’Reilly interviewed Dr. Shannon Fox of Mom*Logic last night on “The O’Reilly Factor.” Mom*Logic is dedicated to helping on-the-go moms to be more in-the-know when it comes to being a mom in today’s racy culture. Last night’s topic was a mini-expose on the brash drugged out and banally, sexed-up week that is Spring Break.
A couple of points of interest:
- The kids in Dr. Fox’s video were quite brazen and brash about their “pastimes,” despite their knowing the video would be shown on national TV.
- One girl displayed a brash “like-uh-what…ever” attitude when it came to one of her Vaction-mates being raped. Laughing, she estimated their might have been as many as 30 guys in the room at that time.
What has struck me in working with mostly older and elderly adults in my churches, is the near-absolute fear these precious people have of this particular banal youth culture. Okay, I have to admit that I’m fairly overwhelmed myself. Yet, there is a growing excitement in me that is salivating at the possible future opportunities and challenges of working in that culture. My emotions will likely be clashing for quite some time.
One obscure man from an era long bygone continues to fuel my fire in reaching out to utterly pagan and banal people, especially youth. When we commonly think of St. Patrick, we typically want to run to our closets for that green sweater to avoid being pinched. Many of the particular youth being discussed would likely think of funneling green beer by the newly-dyed green river front.
However, Patrick is one of those who will likely sit next to Jesus a bit longer than most of us will in heaven. He is a giant of orthodox Christianity. If he were living today, it is likely he would be considered an Evangelical, charismatic Roman Catholic. At any rate, he grew up in 5th Century Roman-occupied Britannia. His father was presbyter in their church … and … he was a spoiled brat, avoiding all the priests teachings. At the ripe old age of 16 he was captured by Irish raiders along with many others and taken into slavery. During his enslavement he embraced the Jesus his spoiled-bratness has rejected. Passionately did he embrace Jesus. He was able to escape 6 years after being kidnapped. Yet instead of living out the rest of his days in Christian-comfort, he went into the priesthood and obeyed the call to return to Ireland on Holy Spirit, Gospel Mission. Ireland’s rich Celtic Christian legacy … passionate Christian outreach to mainland Europe owes her soul to Jesus … and to Patrick … a former spoiled brat who flippantly rejected the Jesus he eventually gave up his homeland for.
Here are Patrick’s own words from his Confessio:
- Now it is too tedious to give an account of my labours, in whole or in part. Let me relate briefly how the most holy God has often freed [me] from slavery and from twelve perils whereby my soul was endangered, besides numerous treacheries and “things which I am unable to express in words.” Nor shall shall (sic) I bore my readers, but I have God as my authority, who knows all things even before they come to pass, that me, a poor little pupil, an ordinary person, [his] “divine answer” would frequently warn. “Whence did this wisdom [come] to me,” which was not in me, who knew neither “the number of my days,” nor did I have any discernment about God. When [was given] to me afterwards the gift so great, so salutary, to know or to love God wholeheartedly, but at the loss of country and kindred? (trans. Maire B. de Paor, p. 245 & 247; underlining mine)
If the Holy Spirit can capture the heart of a flippant, spoiled brat teen from yester-year, certainly he can do so this year. I’m afraid that … as in Patrick’s day … such a movement of the Holy Spirit might just require so many of our creature-comforts to be stolen by the leprechauns and hidden away at the end of the rainbow. However, I certainly don’t wish destruction on anyone.
Here is the video of Bill’s interview with Dr. Fox:
Merry Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Christmas is a truly wonderful American holiday that is one of the last anchors for the family in our society. Despite whether one is a believer or not, seeing family at Christmas is a top priority for most in our society. Gift-giving … at least for a moment … potentially draws the focus off of oneself and onto certain special others. Let’s not forget that glorious bird who lays down his life every year for us … and turkey gravy, turkey sandwiches, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pies … well you get my point.
Yet, in watching my baby girl tear into her presents this morning … as well as tearing into everyone else’s presents … tore into a certain part of my heart. “Mine, mine, mine,” was her anthem. Now you might well say that “mine, mine, mine” is the anthem of every 2-year-old, and you are certainly correct in this dry bit of factual information. However, the implication is on the naughty list. As our society grows infinintly more secular, I’m afraid that the “mine-mine-mine” anthem lasts a bit longer past toddler-age than ripped-up wrapping paper. I know many adults (myself included at times) whose anthem is merely a more sophisticated version of “mine, mine, mine.” In my favorite movie, “A Christmas Story,” the mom asks her two present-happy boys and worn-out, syncial husband if everyone is ready for Christmas to begin. This morning I even found myself teaching my baby-girl to say “Merry Christmas” after the paper-ripping fest.
While I am certainly not advocating the complete abandonment of gift-giving as a major facet of Christmas, as a believer and as a decent human being, I wish to train my children in civility and train them out of barbarity. The root of this is found in who Jesus is and was … this Jesus who came “to give his life as a ransom for many” and “came not to be served but to serve.” May we not deceive ourselves into thinking we are serving the children in our subsidizing of barbaric “mine-mine-mine” attitudes through indulging their commercialized whims and fantasies. Rather may we train our children to truly worship the same Jesus that the original St. Nicholas truly worshipped (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Claus). May we train them to be givers and producers rather than merely consumers.
The red, hot Spanish Armada boils with the Spanish Inquisition cresting on England’s horizon, ready to crash over Queen Elizabeth’s Protestant (non-Roman Catholic) Christianity. Elizabeth’s Catholic cousin Mary is a few conspiratorial letters and an assassin’s bullet away from inheriting England’s throne and “saving” England from the clutches of the Protestant devil. Elisabeth’s beloved citizenry and court ravish the possibility to see their “virgin queen” hook up and knocked up. Her own desires for
true love and friendship increasingly lurk around every corner of her private chambers…and actually mug her heart in public.
Cosmo would certainly have a royal feast!
“That is the difference between you and I … I find the impossible far more interesting,” Queen Elizabeth (Cate Blanchett) pointedly suggests to her loyal chief advisor (Geoffrey Rush). The impossible is poignantly captured in the recently released “Elizabeth: The Golden Age.” In a word this film is powerful, and is so precisely because flawed, but real, human flesh painstakingly clothes the painfully naked realities of the real world in which the real Queen Elizabeth once lived. Simply glossing over an air-brushed history book often cloaks the tenuous high wires on which history’s models have balanced their struggles, fears, hopes, and dreams. While our world is certainly under the ever-watchful eye of the Almighty, the consequences we have to live with spawned from our all-human choices are all-real.
As believers, whether we like to admit it or not, we live in God’s very real world inside very real human flesh. Tenuous are often our choices that are fraught with very real consequences and entangled in very real, intricate, and often intimate contexts. This may not be “super spiritual,” but it is super scriptural. And we are still yet commissioned for Gospel, cross-centered Mission. What will we do with our days (or opportunities) given to us by God? Will we succumb to the same-old, same-old? Will we give up out of desperation? Or will we dream God’s dreams of Spirit-empowered ministry and world-transformation. Every choice is fraught with risk. Personally, I find the impossible far more interesting.
