under the weather

Looks like at least 1,000 miles of the eastern United States are under the weather. Me too. Feeling dis-ease today. Seeking calm to face the storm (and Sandy too). A different kind of storm, with the potential for a different kind of devastation, has been brewing for awhile - so it seems - and I didn't have TWC or Air Force hurricane trackers to tell me when to evacuate. Or, maybe I did but preferred denial.

Jesus talked about knowing how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but not knowing how to interpret the present time (Luke 12:56). I believe he was teaching about the art of honest attention and the consequences of selective blindness; choosing to see only that which aligns with what we already see. It's so tempting though, when life is spiraling like a sadistic Sandy, to pour every energy into taming what can't be tamed.

Facebook friend, Kent Burgess, has the gift of perspective (check out his photographs @ Faithfully Dangerous...). His words, too! His morning post is the spiritual equivalent of the Army Corp of Engineers shoring up a levy in the nick of time:

Mystery is one of the first presences that gets pushed out of life for we who live in these modern times. The focus gets set on progress and acquisition and survival through the accumulation of facts which leaves us trying to tame, through all kinds of frantic planning, the uncertain imagined future that lies ahead. It leads us to and leave us stuck in dull routine. 

But when a life awakens to wonder and becomes infused with its presence, it transfigures a life out of the dull routine that has left us numb and merely functioning in order to survive, and transplants us in a fertile soil where everything begins to feel intimate once again. And it is from this place of intimacy with all that is around us that we begin to grow in a healthy and natural way (Kent Burgess with permission).

Sandy isn't sadistic or malevolent. It's just a storm; a freaking, Frankenstein, of a storm to be sure, but with due disrespect to godtalkers who would have us believe that every natural disaster is god's judgement, they're mistaking the Creator for another god (Jeff Turner Photos).

I don't know what life will come from my unnamed storm, but for today - for this moment - I surrender my urge to tame and welcome the presence of Mystery. Can't say I'm not afraid, but I'm borrowing a line from this blog's namesake song, How Can We See That Far, and leaning into the mighty wind.

And the mighty wind that knocks us down

If we lean into it

Will drive our fears away

Amy Grant/Tom Hemby. Copyright © 1991 Age To Age Music, Inc./Edward Grant, Inc./Puxico Music (ASCAP), adm. by Reunion Music Group, Inc.

wheels

Every morning I climb into a 2000 Dodge Dakota with a bit of rust and 170,000 or so miles and I think of Kim and Karen. They may never know the full extent of our gratitude. It's easy to take wheels for granted, but not something Kathy and I are likely to do again. We have a new appreciation for how challenging life can be without an affordable means to get from here to there.

This is the first truck we've owned. We didn't choose it. It doesn't get nearly the mpg of the Prius or Volt we fantasize about owning. But, we love it! In the weeks between the death of our last vehicle and the gift of the Dakota, we tasted again the bitter reality of life without wheels. How do you get the 15 miles to work and back or even the four miles to the grocery store? What if you need to get to a doctor or register to vote or; in some states, run around to get a valid ID to prove that you can continue voting (like you have in the last ten federal elections)? What if your county has no public transit (not even a taxi, which you couldn't afford anyway)? What if you're on your ninth job interview and they keep getting farther from home? What if you don't have a social network that includes friends like Karen and Kim, who have the connections, heart, grace, and initiative to find a vehicle and give it to you? We love our Dakota!

A few days after picking it up, Kathy found out a new friend needed a ride to a dental appointment. Good thing these two women have a sense of humor. It turned into an all day drama. This new friend really needs teeth pulled, but after hours and hours of runaround, the outcome was medicine to make the pain bearable -hopefully - until she can come up with the $120 or so per tooth to have them pulled. Those of us with dental plans will have the same teeth, with the same issues, repaired; not ripped out. But, that's a different blog. By the time Kathy dropped off her new friend, the blessing of wheels was even more deeply seared into her soul and conscience. Mine too. Every day, this sister chooses what she can live without (little things like eating or seeing her kids) because she has no affordable access to transportation.

I know there are brilliant solutions and, if we put our heads together, we can make it happen. Here's a place to spill your ideas. They don't have to be fully developed. In the meantime, hallelujah for our 12-year-old Dakota and for whatever wheels are working for you. And, thanks K2, you are gentlepersons of the highest degree.

the humility of doubt

On the way to Jackson with Kathy, last weekend, we had time to listen to this incredible conversation. The topic is intense. Friendships have ended, churches split, jobs lost over this issue. It's the sub-text that interests me most though. These two "enemies" learned to do what they call Achieving Disagreement. It's a very hopeful model. I'm fascinated that I first heard this on my way to preach a sermon called "Tricks, Masks, and Our Own Selves." Then again, I'm easily fascinated. And, I see serendipitous where maybe there's only dipitous. Not lost on me that their names are Jonathan and David (ask me sometime why my father named me Jonathan David Mays).

This broadcast sparked my blog. The title comes from a song. I'll write about it another time. Today, I'm really interested in your thoughts on the relationship between doubt and civility. It's worth the 90-minute investment to watch (or listen) to the whole conversation, but in case that's too much to ask for, here's an excerpt from the transcript:

Ms.Tippett: You wrote on your website in your blog about the relationship between civility and doubt. I'd love for you to say some more about that.

Mr. Blankenhorn: It's funny that you would ask that. It's the thing I've been thinking about most in the last several months, more than any other topic. And I think that doubt and civility are friends. They go together kind of like, you know, coffee and cream. They're partners. Um, by civility, I mean treating the other person the way you would want them to treat you. And by doubt, I mean believing that you may not be right even when your position is passionately held.

Ms.Tippett: You wrote this: "What I need as a doubting person is the wisdom of the other."

Mr. Blankenhorn: See, because if I don't have any doubt, I don't need you. I should be nice to you out of manners, but I don't need a relationship with you. I may want you to be available to be lectured by me so that you can come to the correct view and I may want to treat you politely for that reason, but I don't really need you. As I grow older, I grow in doubt and that's good. And I feel like that that's a healthier way to be. And if I am not sure that I have the full truth of the matter, I need you.

Civility allows me to have a relationship with you. It feeds me what I need. You know, when you're in the public eye and you change your mind, well, that's viewed as a sign of weakness. And then if you express doubt about something, that's viewed as a sign of weakness today, especially in this hyperpartisan everybody wants to be tough-minded. I don't know.

Full broadcast: David Blankenhorn and Jonathan Rauch on On Being

Thoughts?