Three of Six

Detour to Eight Iron

2005-08-28T00:19:00.000-04:00

I'm starting something fresh over at Eight Iron. The new site reveals who's behind the "Three of Six" mask.
See you there...

Hitting the pause button

2005-08-26T11:27:00.000-04:00

I won't be posting here probably for several weeks, possibly months. Blogging is a commitment, and right now, my other commitments are nudging it out. I've just got too many irons in the fire, and something has to give. Feel free to check out the links to the right under "Thumbs Up."

The indispensable piece

2005-08-25T06:28:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, we asked the Jenga question: Like the little block of the Jenga tower on which all the weight eventually comes to rest, what idea in Christianity is so important that, if removed, then the whole edifice of Christian faith would come crashing down?

The answer is...

the Resurrection of Jesus.

No less than the Apostle Paul said: "And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith" (1 Cor. 15:14, NIV). Many on that morning long ago saw an empty tomb, but only some drew a faith conclusion from that fact. Now, we call them "Christians," or followers of Christ. More answer to that title today than to any other faith title.

But what if some clever Indiana Jones type unearthed human bones, dusted them off, and said they belonged to Jesus of Nazareth? Would someone have truly yanked out the indispenable Jenga block? Paul Maier wrote a book, A Skeleton in God's Closet, premised on exactly that scenario. It's a good read, as you wind down these short days of summer.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Best burger and fries in a while

2005-08-25T06:24:00.000-04:00

It happened. Yesterday, that little site meter down at the bottom roared past 500, and is still truckin'. True to their promise, 1 0f 2 and 2 0f 2 took me out for dinner. These kinds of "father/son" moments, where all three of us are together, are numbered, since 1 0f 2 is beginning his senior year, and will be off to college somewhere next August. Yep, best burger and fries I've had in a while. Thanks, guys!

Christianity and Jenga

2005-08-24T07:49:00.000-04:00

Have you ever played Jenga?

It's a tower game. Little rectangular blocks are carefully stacked together, to make a tower about 18 inches high. One by one, players carefully remove the blocks, and put them on top. Whoever knocks down the tower loses.

One thing I noticed when playing Jenga. There are lots of blocks that you can take away and the tower remains relatively stable. You hardly notice they're gone. But there comes a point in the game where the whole weight of the tower is resting on one block.Take it away, and the tower crashes to the floor. It's the indispensable block.

In the Bible, there are lots of "blocks." There are endless genealogies, commandments, sacrifices, stories of Jesus, missionary travels, etc. What "block" is so crucial to Christian faith, that if that block was removed, the whole edifice would come crashing down?

Think on these things, and I'll be back tomorrow with my answer.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Time to check Pat Robertson's meds?

2005-08-23T19:47:00.000-04:00

He's 75, an age where senior citizens often take meds. Perhaps Pat Robertson has forgotten to take some of his? Robertson recently made an on-air plea for the United States to "take out" Venezuelan President Chavez. Thankfully, Robertson had about as much chance of being elected President of the United States in 1988 as former Ambassador Alan Keyes had of being elected an Illinois Senator in 2004. (In comparison, Keyes is looking pretty good). Now Venezuela has lodged an official complaint with the U.S. government, and the White House has distanced itself from Robertson's over-the-top remarks.

It's debatable how much influence Robertson currently has on the American electorate, although his Christian Broadcasting Network still has a cable following and maintains a flashy website. The general tone of his teachings is what is called "prosperity gospel," promising financial blessings from God, usually in return for generosity toward others...perhaps expensive television "ministries"?

The Pat Robertsons and Jimmy Swaggarts of this world, unfortunately, have given a bad name to ministers in general, since the non church-going public gets the impression that all clergy are just out to make-a-buck. Undoubtedly, some are, but far more quietly persevere in small town and big city America, paid little to give a listening ear to a down-and-outer, try to bring healing to broken homes, or pray with a dying saint's hand in the hospital. In short, they're the unsung heroes of the helping professions.

As for millionaire Pat Robertson, here's to not just the White House distancing itself from him. One can always hope that the average viewer will wake up, smell the coffee, and see him for the loose cannon that he really is.

This has been cross-posted to Digital Dissent.

Michael Behe vs. Charles Darwin

2005-08-22T00:10:00.000-04:00

Senator Frist's recent comments confusing "science" and "faith" have focused attention once again on the evolution vs. intelligent design debate. Since the media gives little treatment to the nuances of the arguments, I decided to skim The Origin of Species and read in more detail bio-chemist Michael Behe's 1996 ground-breaking challenge to Darwinism.

I took zoology my freshman year of college, and tortured my future wife by making her listen to my seemingly endless recitations of the Kreb's cycle! However, I don't consider myself an expert on things scientific, science being more of a hobby, one of Robert Frost's "roads not travelled." So, charging-in where angels fear to tread, here's my summary after a quick perusal of Darwin, and a more careful reading of Behe.

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"It may be said that natural selection is daily and hourly scrutinizing, throughout the world, every variation, even the slightest; rejecting that which is bad, preserving and adding up all that is good; silently and insensibly working, whenever and wherever opportunity offers, at the improvement of each organic being in relation to its organic and inorganic conditions of life. We see nothing of these slow changes in progress, until the hand of time has marked the long lapses of ages, and then so imperfect is our view into long past geological ages, that we only see that the forms of life are now different from what they formerly were." – Charles Darwin, in The Origin of Species, 1859

"While chemists try to test origin-of-life scenarios by experiment or calculation, evolutionary biologists make no attempt to test evolutionary scenarios at the molecular level by experiment or calculation. As a result, evolutionary biology is stuck in the same frame of mind that dominated origin-of-life studies in the early fifties, before most experiments had been done: imagination running wild. Biochemistry has, in fact, revealed a molecular world that stoutly resists explanation by the same theory so long applied at the level of the whole organism...Darwin never imagined the exquisitely profound complexity that exists even at the most basic levels of life." - Michael Behe, in Darwin's Black Box, 1996

Natural selection, based on the struggle for life, is how Charles Darwin, the English naturalist, explained evolution. Now, it is accepted as fact among biologists, not only that there are minor variations within a species, or microevolution, but changes that lead to the creation of new species, called macroevolution.

Lost in the current sound-bite war over evolution vs. intelligent design are the nuances in what is arguably the most scientifically sound critique of macroevolution yet presented. In Michael's Behe's Darwin's Black Box: The Bio-Chemical Challenge to Evolution (The Free Press, 1996), a careful and meticulously documented questioning of Darwinism unfolds with beauty and clarity.

The key to understanding Behe's argument is first understanding who Charles Darwin was. He was a naturalist; he studied birds and insects, especially the variations among them. His theory was based on 19th century science, before the discovery of DNA or most of the inner workings of the cell. The "black box" is Behe's clever expression for any realm of science unaddressed by a theory. This wasn't Darwin's fault, but the science of bio-chemistry, which only began in earnest in the 1950s, has uncovered new findings at the molecular level for which Darwinism has no explanatory power.

Are there things in nature that are "irreducibly complex"? Yes, says Behe. Among several examples he provides is the clotting of blood. There is a "cascade effect" that happens at the bio-chemical level in the human body when we cut ourselves and start to bleed. Immediately, proteins in the blood form something of a chain reaction, allowing blood to clot. It is part of a complex system, and therefore, it is difficult to see how the system could have gradually evolved and still worked to keep people from bleeding. Something is "irreducibly complex" if it has no "functional precursors" (p.43). Importantly, though scientists know much about the clotting of blood, no one has been able to explain how such a complex system could have evolved over time. Bio-chemists give lip service to molecular evolution, but there is no solid research proving that it happens where sytems are irreducibly complex.

The close of Behe's book draws inferences from the direction in which forty years of bio-chemical research points. Irreducible complexity, while it cannot be explained by evolutionary theory, can be explained by "intelligent design." Behe, though Roman Catholic, is careful not to cross the line into theology, refusing to say who the "designer" is. (He even allows the possibility that life on earth is the result of it being sown by aliens!) Shrewdly, he likens intelligent design to the Big Bang, where there are obvious theological implications, but where he believes that scientists should leave the development of those implications to theologians.

Darwin's Black Box has become standard reading by those promoting intelligent design in public schools. Importantly, Behe distances himself from young-earth Creationists, i.e. those who see the universe has having been created by God in six 24-hour periods. He sees no problem in saying that complex systems were put into place by a designer billions of years ago. He is careful to maintain a traditional definition of science as limited to the examination of the natural world, and would no doubt be confused like the rest of us by Senator Frist seemingly equating faith and science.

Behe's book is well-done. He sets-off more technical discussions from the easier parts of his argument, and one can easily follow the gist even if you skim the diagrams of molecules, or just glance at the drawings of cellular infrastructure. If you want to make sense of the current ID debate, Darwin's Black Box is a good place to start.

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This essay has been double-posted to Tacitus.

Anchors and Sails

2005-08-21T14:20:00.000-04:00

We had gathered from the four winds, all of us converging on the campground for three days of family reunion. Some had come from overseas; most came from far-flung states up and down the eastern seaboard, scattered by the pursuit of jobs and advancement. My dad, former Navy man that he is, looked around the room and aptly summed it up: “In this family, we’ve always been more sail than anchor.”

He was talking about our family penchant for pulling up roots every four or five years, and moving on. He meant nothing political by the statement, but the "anchor" and "sail" metaphor is useful when considering the historic tensions that play themselves out in the American political arena. The “anchors” are the conservatives, once in both major parties, but now relegated almost entirely to the Republican side of the aisle. These are the Jim Talents and the Kay James', reminding us of our heritage, calling us to be “anchored” in the principles of family and faith that have stood the test of time. When change is all around us, they call us back to First Things. They are guardians of the tradition.

The “sails,” on the other hand, are the visionaries. They’re not concerned about keeping things as they’ve always been. Change isn’t a dirty word; it’s a rallying cry. These are the innovators, the Thomas Edisons and the Bill Gates, rugged individualists who push the envelope. More “sails” are Democratic than Republican.

The genius of America has always been finding room for both “anchors” and “sails.” Too much anchor, and innovation dies. Too much sail, and we all lose our bearings.

Starting next Saturday, the "Anchors and Sails" column will review one article or book personalities that are best described as either an "anchor" or a "sail." By better understanding both, we'll come to understand that we really do need each other.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Sunday "Thumbs Up!"

2005-08-21T13:20:00.000-04:00

This week's Sunday "Thumbs Up!" pick is Tacitus.

If blogs had the equivalent of a "general store," Tacitus would fit the bill. While many posts are made pseudonymously, there are others who help fill out the many categories, including foreign affairs, culture, politics, travel, social issues, and others.

From what I read, Tacitus is right-of-center, but unfraid to say the Emperor is wearing nothing, when indeed that's the case. Discourse in America today could use more who aren't afraid to break ranks, when the herd is stampeding in the wrong direction.

Debate brewing at "Radio Saigon"

2005-08-20T22:18:00.000-04:00

The "Unrepentant Curmudgeon" lives in France, and likes to blog. I live overseas as well, and also like to blog. But what's really fun is when iron sharpens iron, and we get debating back-and-forth. Read it all at "Radio Saigon."

Jesus isn't soup, and he's not for sale

2005-08-19T06:40:00.000-04:00

Is Jesus a product to be bought or sold? So you might think, if you listen to long-time pastor H.B. London: "Nearly every pastor is a salesman or marketer of one kind or another because...we have a philosophy to sell." I guess Jesus and the Church are no longer any different than a can of soup.

The problem is, most manufacturers reach market saturation. Their product starts piling-up in warehouses, or on store shelves. Before long, the price is slashed to move the product. ON SALE! blares from every floor display. People will shop at the biggest box store, wherever they can get it the cheapest.

In the 16th century, the Roman Catholic church got in trouble when they started selling indulgences, promises that passage to heaven could be made quicker and easier, if we just pay something now on earth. Tetzel even had a jingle: "As soon as the coin in the coffer rings, a soul from purgatory springs." Martin Luther got angry at the commericialization of doctrine, and hammered his famous "95 theses" to the door of the cathedral in Wittenbury, Germany. The Protestant Reformation had begun.

Evangelicals have apparently forgotten the hard lesson learned by Rome. When it comes to spiritual things, forget marketing. Christian faith is not for sale. Salvation is not a commodity that you can stick a bar code on, and scan at the nearest register. It defies all of our attempts to put it in a box and hawk it on the nearest corner like Tetzel, or even to offer it for auction on E-Bay. Christianity isn't a product; it's a call, a call to come and die.

Jesus said: "If anyone will come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me." Serving Christ is just that, serving him. The relationship is not equal. God's not your "big buddy" upstairs, or your instant messenger friend. And he's certainly not a spiritual commodity that needs to be hawked. But the paradox is that the same Jesus who calls us to service offers peace: "Come unto me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

Jesus is a relationship, a call to extreme commitment. That commitment means belonging to others (the Church) and changing the world, by God's Spirit living inside.

So keep your jingles and your market studies. Keep your spiritual salesmanship. Jesus isn't soup, and he's not for sale.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

General Casey exudes optimism on Iraq

2005-08-18T18:05:00.000-04:00

"I've been here a year, and the longer I stay, the more optimistic I am that we're going to achieve our objectives." So said General Casey, the four-star commander of the multi-national forces in Iraq. Among other things, Casey notes that the number of bombing attacks in July was 1/3 of what it was in June. Despite the more than 50 American casualities already this month, he insists that military morale is high. NBC's Matt Lauer baited him as best he could, but drew nothing negative from the General, just low-key confidence that we're on the right track. (BTW, nice to see a reporter on the ground in Baghdad, and not hiding behind some desk in New York).

Casey points out that historically, the average insurgency lasts nine years, so there will be a long road to hoe in Iraq before this is over. Still, by his read, we're making real progress. I sure hope he's right.

Watch the entire 4 1/2 minute interview here, and decide for yourself.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

The sport that time forgot

2005-08-18T06:04:00.000-04:00

What sport was invented in 500 b.c. and remains obscure in the United States?

OK, you looked at the picture. It's badminton, of course. But now the World Badminton Championship is coming for the first time to America, and with it a spate of publicity for a sport that usually gets played alongside croquet and horseshoes at the family reunion.

College P.E. transformed my concept of the game. It was a great stress reliever between research papers and reading to get out there and plaster the birdie...uh, shuttlecock. I was surprised how fast-paced the game could get, but that was minor league compared to the 200 mph missiles that the professionals fire-off. Though the game languishes in the States, it's thriving in other parts of the world, and joined the Olympics in 1992. When played competitively, it's decent exercise. Finish a forty minute match at a high level, and you'll have travelled nearly two miles. Not bad.

Now, if they can just stop folks turning their racquets upside-down and playing air guitar...

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Icemilk, anyone?

2005-08-17T06:43:00.000-04:00

It inevitably happens.

Someone forgets to put a box of milk in the fridge overnight. The next morning, you can either have warm milk or...get creative.

Now, I don't mind ice cubes in my milk, but the rest of the Three of Six family thinks it's uncivilized.

But the way I look at it, today's weirdo is tomorrow's hero. (Just look at Bill Gates). The first time someone combined chocolate and peanut butter, they must have raised eyebrows. But if Mr. Reeses was a real person, I bet he lived happily (and richly) ever after.

I'm hoping that some of our family's odd food pairings will catch-on and make us famous:

1) Crunched-up Graham crackers in applesauce -- eat it before they get too soft
2) Pepsi in milk -- don't try it in reverse, it'll curdle, but Four of Four says it's good. (I'll stick with my ice milk).
3) Mix Fanta Orange and Sprite, and voila: "Spranta" (Hat-tip to Sue)
4) brown sugar in tea -- better flavor
5) pickle relish and cheese sandwich

When it comes to strange combos, beauty is often in the eye of the beholder.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Getting clipped

2005-08-16T06:20:00.000-04:00

Their ads say that they're "everywhere you want to be." Frankly, I'm just feeling clipped.

So $ 85.00 won't send me into chapter 11. The reason it won't is that Four of Four and I have nearly always watched our Ps and Qs when it comes to money. We won't carry a card that charges an annual fee, and we always pay our balance off in-full each month. I call that being financially responsible; the credit card company has another term for it: "dead beat." That should tell you something about how they think.

But back to the $ 85.00. It showed up as an "international service fee" on my last statement. When I contacted the issuing bank, they told me that it's a 2% fee levied on all charges made outside the United States. The fee is mandated by VISA, and the bank just passes it on to the customer. Hadn't I seen the notice in a recent statement? Ah, no, I hadn't. Translate: No refund, sucker.

My employer, who sponsors employees to receive the card, is now looking into other options. Meanwhile, if enough of the rest of us globetrotters raise our voices, maybe VISA will get the message. After all, what point is there in carrying a supposedly worldwide credit card if every time you set foot outside the U.S., you get clipped?

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Don't change it, Mr. Secretary

2005-08-15T07:20:00.000-04:00

Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff is new on the job, and he's itching to make changes.

Understandable, a "new broom sweeps clean," yada yada.

Unfortunately, not all changes are good.

Since 9/11/2001, there have been exactly (let's count them) zero fatalities in the U.S. due to airplane security issues. Nada. Goose egg. The sale of Dr. Scholl's for shoes has probably gone up, as passengers being screened get to kick-off their Sunday shoes. But standing in my stocking feet for a few minutes is a small price to pay to have a greater peace of mind when I get on that plane.

If any changes need to be made, it's making things more strict. I won't go into a specific list of weaknesses in the current screening system. I've always thought that there's probably some warped person trolling the web for new sabotage ideas. But if you must do something to establish your authority, Mr. Secretary, make it a change to tighten things up, not loosen them. That'll make this traveler and his family sleep easier at 30,000 feet.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Sunday "Thumbs Up!"

2005-08-13T10:31:00.000-04:00

"Thumbs Up!" to Scott Rushing's Theology Journal. Looks like a work-in-progress, like Three of Six. Carry on.

Belay that order!

2005-08-12T01:22:00.000-04:00

It's a great line from Star Trek: TNG.

Strange aliens have taken the real Captain Picard hostage, and replaced him with a facsimile. They want to know how far the rest of the crew can be pushed before the inevitable mutiny, so Picard starts giving silly commands. "Take us closer to that star, Mr. Crusher" he orders, even as the computer blares that destruction of the Enterprise from solar radiation is imminent. At the last possible moment, before they incinerate themselves, the First Officer barks out: "Belay that order!"

Watching President Bush and the Congress empty the country's wallet is like a re-run of that Star Trek episode, only this time there's no sane First Officer to head off disaster. When it comes to spending, not only has the Captain gone crazy; all the officers on the bridge seem to have lost their senses. Federal fiscal policy is a mess, the most recent evidence being the pork-laden $ 286 billion highway bill that Bush signed into law on Wednesday. Meanwhile, alarms continue to sound, as groups like the Economic Policy Institute warn that within 10 years, the entire federal budget will be taken up for defense and costly entitlements.

Predictably, as the treasury runs dry, the Feds will cost-shift to the state level, mandating programs that state governments can ill afford. Meanwhile, the silence on the Left and Right is eloquent, as neither DailyKos nor NRO give the story even a front-page mention. Guess impending fiscal meltdown just isn't newsworthy anymore.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Dark shades and the ministry

2005-08-11T06:56:00.000-04:00

What do dark sunglasses and the call to the priesthood have in common? Plenty, according to the Washington Times Insider (subscription only). The lastest recruitment poster is a Catholic youth pastor, dressed in a dark priest's uniform, wearing shades, like Keanu Reeves in The Matrix. The posters are all the rage in dioceses across America, where some priests credit them for help recruiting more young men to "the toughest of all jobs." A number of recent movies include celibate warriors, such as the Star Wars Jedi knights, many of the heroes in Lord of the Rings and Peter Parker of Spiderman fame. In our world painted by some as "good" vs. "evil," such a pitch apparently has appeal.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Anchors and sails

2005-08-10T22:16:00.000-04:00

He was talking about our family penchant for pulling up roots every four or five years, and moving on. He meant nothing political by the statement, but the "anchor" and "sail" metaphor is useful when considering the historic tensions that play themselves out in the American political arena. The “anchors” are the conservatives, once in both major parties, but now relegated almost entirely to the Republican side of the aisle. These are the Jim Talents and the James Dobsons, reminding us of our heritage, calling us to be “anchored” in the principles of family and faith that have stood the test of time. When change is all around us, they call us back to First Things. They are guardians of the tradition.

The “sails,” on the other hand, are the visionaries. They’re not concerned about keeping things as they’ve always been. Change isn’t a dirty word; it’s a rallying cry. These are the innovators, the Thomas Edisons and the Bill Gates, rugged individualists who push the envelope. More “sails” are Democratic than Republican.

The genius of America has always been finding room for both “anchors” and “sails.” Too much anchor, and innovation dies. Too much sail, and we all lose our bearings.

Starting next Saturday, Three of Six, in the "Anchors and Sails" column, will review one article or book by either an anchor or a sail. Stay tuned.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Risky behaviors and media double standard?

2005-08-10T05:14:00.000-04:00

The death from lung cancer of journalist Peter Jennings has produced a window of opportunity. Though Jennings quit smoking twenty years ago, the damage to his body had apparently already been done. CNN seized the moment to run smoking prevention reports. Turns out the best way to avoid lung cancer is to never take up smoking.

Recently, the media has highlighted other high-risk behaviors, such as dusting. Turns out the best way not to die of computer keyboard cleaner is to never deliberately suck it in.

In 2003, 14,000 Americans died of AIDS. Of all new infections, 70% are male. Maybe the best way for a young man to avoid HIV is to refrain from anal sex with another male?

As a society, we've done pretty well across the years in proscribing particularly risky behaviours. Why do we forbid Joe Camel billboards in front of elementary schools? Because it's disturbing to see a cigarette dangling from the lips of an 11 year-old girl, her future going up in a whisp of smoke. Why do we get out the word about the dangers of sniffing glue or other household products? Because it's heart-breaking trying to wake your kid up for school, only to find him dead next to an empty can of aeresol.

So how should we respond when it comes to risky homosexual behavior? As concerned parents, do we still have the courage to say to our boys: "It's not healthy. It may kill you. You don't want to go there." Such a stance taken publicly may even call down the wrath of the PC police at your neighborhood school, but whoever said parenting is easy? It's far easier to bite our collective tongue, to titter along with the latest gay recruitment sitcom. As for the big news outlets? Less disruptive to go with the pro-gay script than connect the dots on this public health issue. And don't count on the major blogs to break ranks. Seen their pro-gay ads lately?

It's hard not to notice the relationship between what's OK for the media to say and current trends in tort law. Big Tobacco? Got sued, and how. Now Phillip-Morris and friends extol the dangers of youth smoking, and so do journalists. McDonalds? Allegedly, they're making our kids fat, so a lawsuit later, they've added lots of salads. Not surprisingly, the award winning documentary Super-Size Me piggy-backed on news of the lawsuit. Who knows? Maybe a hungry attorney will sue broadcasters for airing something like Boy Meets Boy, thereby recruiting someone's son into the gay lifestyle, resulting in his eventual death by AIDS. It will be interesting to see how the media spins that story.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr

Y'all come back, ya hear?

2005-08-09T06:11:00.000-04:00

No blogging today, just more graduate research. Check back in on Wednesday for something fresh.

Wayne's comedy western good for what ails ya

2005-08-08T06:11:00.000-04:00

"One of Two" and "Two of Two" left for summer camp yesterday. The house seemed really quiet, so "Four of Four" and I sat down to watch a movie, one of those films that everyone in the house had already seen, but I'm just catching up on.

North to Alaska (1960) with John Wayne and teen idol Fabio, was groundbreaking: It was the first western comedy. Wayne had achieved enough stature as an American icon that he wanted to do a film that would spoof himself. He pulls it off well, with lovely French actress Capucine at this side.

This one's worth some good laughs, if your laugh gauge is edging toward empty.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

2005-08-07T18:04:00.000-04:00

A North African mother and child, working the traffic for a few coins, in Cotonou, the economic capital of Benin, West Africa

Sunday "Thumbs Up!"

2005-08-07T06:44:00.000-04:00

Kudos go to Professor Brainbridge , a UCLA Law professor and part of the growing right-of-center blogosphere.

According to his masthead, the site is "an eclectic mix of law, business and economics, Catholicism, politics and current events, dogs, and photography." Brainbridge deals with issues cogently, but has enough "lighter" content to break up the heavy topics. There's always something new to interest the reader, and he's not afraid to depart from conservative PC on occasion, as evidenced by his recent recommendation of a First Things article opposed to the death penalty.

Welcome, Prof, to the "Thumbs Up!" blogroll, and keep up the good work.

Brainy Smurf in search of three stooges

2005-08-06T06:46:00.000-04:00

As scam e-mails go, it was my favourite.

You know what I'm talking about, the desperate plea from a 2/3 world country, tales of woe, but sweetened with the promise of $ 6,ooo,ooo U.S. or some outlandish sum, sitting in a bank account, ready to divvy up, if only you hit the reply button. If if seems too good to be true, it probably is.

At least deleting scam e-mails serves the useful purpose of limbering up the fingers of my right hand for the day. I decided to click on one, just to see what the latest story was. Right away, I was surprised that this one wasn't typed in some sweltering cybercafe in Lagos, Nigeria, but instead it came from Abidjan, Ivory Coast. Having lived in Abidjan for four years, it was no surprise to read names like "Koffi" and "Kouame," but the name of the deceased richer than "The Donald" American who made all this possible was surprising. Who was this poor Yankee Abroad who met an untimely death, leaving all his loot behind? Why, none other than Brainy Smurf.

Now if Barney Rubble had died, I might have taken the bait. I mean, surely Barney must have squirreled away at least some of the royalties from all those "Flintstones" re-runs, maybe hidden in Wilma's hairdo? But Brainy? Truth be known, he's kind of the conscience for the Smurf clan, but not well-liked. (On the other hand, that could provide us with a clue why someone iced him in an obscure West African country, someone tired of his moralizing...but I digress). In any case, he doesn't seem like the Smurf with the Midas touch.

Pity the poor soul who swore off Saturday morning cartoons, and now is wondering why her millions never came.

UPDATE: Here's an illuminating article on Nigerian e-mail scam s.

Feeling good in your skin

2005-08-05T05:51:00.000-04:00

Three Marines parked their Humvee next to a green recruitment tent at the amusement park. They didn't have fly paper, but not to worry. They had something better. They had a pull-up bar.

How did I ever do 17 pull-ups in a row in 9th grade? Those Marines must have been snickering inside, as I dropped to the ground in defeat. I hadn't done a single one. Back home, "get fit" program # 257 actually lasted a little longer this time, but inevitably, ended with less-than-spectacular results. No, that's not my bicep to the left. My photo shoot for the cover of Men's Health? That will just have to wait.

The French have a saying: "Il est bien dans sa peau." Literally, it means "He's good in his skin." Doesn't matter if you're "easy on the eyes" or not. It simply acknowledges the confidence a person exudes, that they're comfortable being who they are.

Dove soap is doing something heretical right now. In an ad campaign, they're featuring women who are less-than-thin. They aim to sell soap, of course, but also to make women who wear size 6 to 12 feel comfortable with themselves, to feel good in their skin. They're not dangerously overweight, or anorexic. They're just...average. Average is OK.

If I wore a hat, I'd take it off to Dove. Now, will someone please do the same for boys and men? Do you ever wonder how many media messages young men get every day, from the checkout stand at Walmart, to the fight games on Play Station, to the worship of ripped male celebrities on TV and the internet? How many times a day does a young man have to see "washboard abs" to realize he doesn't have any? Is it any wonder that more of our boys are taking steroids, not just to perform better in sports, like suspended Baltimore Oriole Raphael Palmeiro, but simply to "look good"? Ah, but how much money would product manufacturers make if a sudden wave of satisfation swept over us like a tsunami? To sell something, you have to make someone unhappy with their present condition. Understand that basic principle of advertising, and you've won half the battle.

So, guys, you don't look like an Olympic swimmer? Not many of us do. That doesn't mean you're a loser. Take a walk, jog a few laps, ride your bike, get your heart pumping a bit every day. But most of all, enjoy what you do best, and chuck the media messages. They just want your cash. Time to feel good in your skin!

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Photo courtesy of Flickr

The Grand Canyon and False Choices

2005-08-04T06:08:00.000-04:00

Four tourists arrived at the edge of the Grand Canyon. The first was an artist, the second, a minister, the third, a scientist, and the fourth, a cowboy. All four stood silently in awe, soaking it in.

After a while, the artist broke the silence, blurting out: "What tones! What colours! What contrasts!"

The minister, a smile on his face, gently exclaimed: "What a tremendous example of the creative power of God."

The scientist remarked: "It's amazing what effect geological processes can have over millions of years."

The cowboy didn't say much. Finally, he hazarded: "Tough place to lose a cow."

Who was right? Care to vote? Was it the artist, minister, scientist, or cowboy? In a strange way, they were all right. It just depends upon your perspective.

OK, I'll confess that this story originally had no scientist. She was added, because the tale needed updating. After all, in 2005, it's not the painter and cowboy who are coming to blows; it's the minister and the scientist. More specifically, it's a small but loud handful of Christians who interpret Genesis 1 in a very literal sense, where one "day" must equal 24 hours. All that we see in the universe, "the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees," must have been created by God in six 24 hours periods. (Question to literalists: Why must those first two "days" be solar days, when Genesis says that the sun wasn't created until the third day?)

And here's where the argument begins...

Youth with bright minds have a God-given thirst for scientific knowledge. At school, they think chemistry is cool. They've never met a fetal pig they didn't like, even if it does stink of formaldehyde. If you took the bus home, and looked in their bedrooms, you'd be impressed by the range of their interests. Over on the shelf is a collection of assorted insects. At the window is a telescope, trained on the stars. Don't miss that desk. There you'll find a well-worn Bible, with verses underlined last year at church camp. On the wall, next to the poster of the Space Shuttle, is a framed baptism certificate. And don't forget the "F.R.O.G. (Fully Relying on God) bracelet that sits on the dresser next to the latest installment from the Left Behind series.

From Monday to Friday, in biology class, or maybe it's in earth science or astonomy, our youth learn that the universe we see around us didn't happen overnight. It took a long, long time. And of course there's no mention of God being involved, because you can't put God in a test tube. Science isn't about the supernatural; it's about the natural.

And then many of them on Sundays go to churches where a well-intentioned but misguided Sunday School teacher is placing an "either/or" in front of them. "You can't believe in evolution," he says. "Evolution is a godless theory, made up by atheists, to deny a Creator. "

And we wonder why our children are so confused...

You see, I was one of those youngsters. If I hadn't become a minister, I'd probably be teaching biology. My brothers used to kid me about my "nature trails" photography, dozens of snaps of frosted leaves or tent caterpillars, and this before digital! Tenth grade biology was all-consuming, with what little art talent I have coming out in drawings of cells, bones, hearts, and muscles. In college, zoology taught me new things, like the Kreb's cycle and how to handle an expensive microscope. But always in the back of mind, I wondered about evolution, questioning whether I was "selling out" my Christian faith by being so curious about biology. After all, though the text book still said "evolutionary theory," it was obvious the authors considered it fact.

In the middle of that semester in zoology, a friend told me about a professor in the religion department who had a PhD in Old Testament. Importantly, he also held an M.A. in marine biology. Here was someone who was well-informed in both areas. What would he tell me? He listened quietly as I explained my dilemma. Finally, he replied: "Genesis is not so much about how as it is about who."

That answer helps avoid a needless train wreck between Christian faith and hard-headed science.

The next year, I took a course in the history of science. Our teacher, a PhD in botany and ordained minister, one day asked: "What would it have been like to be Moses?" The Lord says, "Hey Moses, here's how it all began. Now write it down.' " Moses perks up. He's ready. "First, I took millions of tiny atoms, then smashed them together at a tremendous velocity, which produced an enormous explosion, resulting in the release of gigatons of energy. Did you get that Moses?" God looked down at what Moses had written:

"And God said, 'Let there be light.' "

The Lord shook his head at first, thinking Moses had gotten it all wrong. Then, a smile came across God's face. "How did I do?" Moses asked. "Fine," the Lord said. "You're doing just fine. Shall we continue?"

Charles Darwin, though an agnostic later in life following the untimely death of his daughter, never saw a contradiction between scientific pursuits and religious beliefs. Theologian Orton Wiley agrees that the relationship between science and faith needn't be contentious. He calls Genesis a "hymn to the Creation." Darwin and Wiley knew what we sometimes forget: The Bible isn't a science text book, never was, never will be. So why are some intent on setting up a false choice, putting our children in an impossible situation, like having to choose between mom and dad? Divorce between parents messes kids up, and making them decide between religion or science is a false choice that we can live without.

So this summer, when you see the Grand Canyon, play the artist, and play the cowboy. But for heaven's sake, don't let that minister and scientist start arguing. They're both right.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr.

Pretzels and Swiss Cheese

2005-08-03T06:41:00.000-04:00

MSNBC.com reports that Supreme Court nominee, Judge John Roberts, has issued a 100-page response to questions from Senators. Inquiring minds want to know whether he was ever a member of the Federalist Society. His response? "I can't recall."

Ah yes, the selective memory dodge. That one is a classic. Former Presidents Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton used it well when they were called to testify before a panel looking into the Iran-Contra affair and some other investigation, respectively. (I don't recall exactly which one..)

Admittedly, around the age of 60, memory can start to look like Swiss cheese, yet here is a man whom they've just spent three weeks extolling as the "great legal mind of our time, "and he doesn't recall what groups he joined? Please. Don't insult our collective intelligence. There are things in life that are forgettable: my seventh grade locker combination, for one. (I did that combination how many hundreds of times that year, and I don't remember it?) But if someone asked me a membership question, I could rattle off every group I've ever joined, including the Sunrise Optimists, in 1993, in a rural Missouri town, for 4 months, eating ham and eggs, and drinking terrible coffee when saner people would have been home asleep in bed. With all due respect to His Honour, joining a group is memorable.

For the record, I hope Judge Roberts gets in. He's qualified, he's careful, and he seems to understand what the whole checks-and-balances deal is about. If confirmed, would he likely join with other like-minded justices to reverse Roe v. Wade? Yes, and the sooner that tumour is cut off the body politic, the better. Meanwhile, it should be interesting to see into what pretzel-shaped contortions Mr Roberts feels obligated to twist himself for the sake of that magic 51st Senator's vote.

Back to the 17th century

2005-08-02T08:17:00.000-04:00

No new posting today. I'll be back in the 17th century, ruminating a fine point of theology for my graduate research.

Meanwhile, you can:

1) scroll down for some recent posts, or else
2) visit DigitalDissent, where my alter-ego, "Didsbury," just posted "Extreme Makevover in the War on terrorism."

Should have something new at "Three of Six" on Wednesday...

Yellow Cub Cadet

2005-08-01T21:09:00.000-04:00

In my memory, boyhood summers are inseparable from my dad's yellow Cub Cadet.

There's a Wonder Years kind a snapshot of me perched behind the wheel, a contented smirk on my face, ready at 4 to be like dad and take on the "jungle" of our half-acre in Flemington, New Jersey. Do you know how cool it is for a four year old boy to ride up with his dad on a big yellow monster? The best part was when I got to steer, the loud roar of the whirring mower unit turning underneath my feet, chewing the ground like a hungry beast.

Just two summers later, my lip quivered as I hugged my stuffed tiger. The movers loaded up my life into a moving truck, trekking north into the Great Unknown of suburban Rochester, New York. I felt much better when our yellow Cub rolled down the truck ramp and staked out its turf in the middle of our new garage. But now we had less land, and a big Cub Cadet was overkill for our smaller yard, so dad bought a push mower instead. Not to fear; with the advent of our Craftsman was born "The Business."

"The Business" always had a kind of Godfather ring to it, but it was nothing nefarious. When my two older brothers got the hang of mowing our yard, they started looking around the neighborhood. There weren't too many houses built yet on our track in the summer of '69, but my siblings were undaunted. Soon, they'd landed the first customer for The Business, an old Jewish couple living next door. One of Six and Two of Six did a good job, and with it, they enjoyed good word of mouth. Others called, and at $ 5.00 per lawn, The Business was up and running.

One day, Two of Six spoke up. "Dad," he said between mouthsful at the dinner table, "we got another offer to do a lawn today, but I told the lady I'd think about it. It's pretty far away, and I don't think we can push our mower that far." Always the handyman, you could see the wheels turning in my father's head. First he bought the lumber, then the wheels and axle. A week later, there it was. We were the proud owners of a tractor trailor! No, not an 18 wheeler, but a useful, low-riding trailer that hitched to the back of the Cub. On the front we put our Craftsman, and on the back was room for the gas can and a rider. By now, One of Six had a job at the grocery store, so I got to join The Business at the whopping wage of $ 1.50/lawn. The next morning, Two of Six, as Boss of the Business, slipped behind the wheel of the Cub, and I climbed on the back of the trailer. The Cub roared to life. Happy to be useful again, it rolled down the driveway, and headed at 3/4 throttle to our first remote job, more than a mile away. As we motored past the other kids in the neighborhood, the looks on their faces were...priceless. Our stock rose by a hundred-fold that day. Not just anybody had the coolest amusement park ride, and got to earn money to-boot.

Two of Six later went to work at the grocery store, and now I was Boss of the Business. My brother, Four of Six, was my lowly slave...er, helper. What a feeling of power! This was even better than the day I joined the force of super cops...I mean, school safety patrols. And so another summer came and went, months of grass stains on my shorts, a killer tan from sunrays at a time when no one knew what skin cancer was, and chilled lemonade offered by our customers that we gratefully gulped down. Two hours later, we climbed back on our Cub Cadet, faithfully waiting in the driveway like a horse tethered to a hitching post in some old Western town. Tired, sweaty, and a few bucks richer, we headed home.

Life goes on. Two years later, I was off at college. My parents moved, and the Cub went with them to their new home. One repair too many and one newspaper ad later, the Cadet was gone, a retirement well deserved. It's probably confined to some scrap-heap now, like Mike Mulligan's steam shovel. But for me, our yellow Cub Cadet will never die.

God, or country?

2005-08-01T06:20:00.000-04:00

Former President Jimmy Carter, calling the war in Iraq "unnecessary and unjust," is drawing the usual fire from the right side of the blogosphere. Some call his remarks unpatriotic, while others in the political center seem willing to cut him some slack, realizing Carter's consistency. At least since the Camp David Accords of 1978 until today, he has viewed foreign policy through the lens of a pacifistic brand of Christian faith.

Carter's recent remarks highlight an historic tension for the thinking Christian. It's as old as the Apostle Paul, who said that believers are "citizens of heaven," yet invoked his Roman citizenship as a kind of "get out of jail free" card when wrongly beaten and imprisoned. The early Church had a strong pacifistic streak, discouraging its youth from joining up with Caesar's legions. On the other hand, Martin Luther in 16th century Germany pronounced God's blessing upon his Prince's ruthless crushing of a rebellion, where thousands were massacred. John Wesley, the genius of early Methodism, had no compunction against his followers serving in the military, and was fascinated by stories of Methodists serving honorably in the ranks.

For our part, the U.S. has always been a flag-waving nation. (For background, rent James Cagney's classic film, Yankee Doodle Dandee). When we were attacked on 9-11-2001, flags went up on seemingly every lamp post, and sprouted from every porch. I've been in churches with huge American flags displayed at the front, and in one service the pastor led us all in the pledge of allegiance. One of the memorable images from Ground Zero was two iron girders that survived the attack, standing in the shape of a Cross. At the top, someone tethered Old Glory. What does it mean when we combine these symbols? How would we feel if communist China did the same?

Beyond the question of mixing symbols is the polarization that it always brings. What makes me most uncomfortable in the America of 2005 is the choosing sides. We seem stuck in an "either/or" scenario, where you're either vociferously opposed to the war (like Carter, or those at DailyKos), or you're blindly in favour of any U.S. military action baptized with the blood of the American Martyrs of 9/11. If citizens on either side ask a tough question in their own camp, they're branded a heretic. The first group, the "hell no, we won't go" group, seems unable to imagine any circumstances that would merit the use of force in our nation's defense. On the other hand, the second group, the hawks on steroids, don't seem to care that the Pentagon is developing horrific weapons, like the nuclear bunker buster, that can only be described as immoral.

Where is the Church on this issue? Are we so busy declaring our patriotism, draping the Cross with the flag, that instead of looking after orphans and widows, we want to make more with Doomsday devices? Have we rightfully taken up the cause of the unborn, only to despise the well-being of children caught in the cross-fire in places like Iraq?

There are no easy answers in times like these, but more and more, I'm concluding that change must come both from outside and within. "Outside" means bringing up the tough questions in forums like blogs and letters to the editor. "Inside" means exercising influence where the levers of power are manipulated. A 1st Lieutenant in the U.S. Army might only follow orders, but a three star General can help interpret policy to make it more balanced. Representatives and Senators of faith must steadfastly refuse to be drawn into the polarization that presents a false choice between God and country. Soldiers and politicians who are Christian must understand anew that:

1) "loving your neighbour" sometimes means coming to her defense with lethal force, and
2) Euphemisms like "collateral damage" come from the pit of hell. There is no such thing as "collateral damage," only human beings, lovingly molded by the Creator.

They say that the first casualty in war is the truth. The second casualty is nuance. The Apostle Paul never seems to have balanced his competing loyalties, and it won't be any easier for us. I'm not sure what the answer is, but I'm positive it's not the polarization we've seen so far.

Sunday "Thumbs Up!"

2005-07-31T07:38:00.000-04:00

Once per week, in the "Thumbs Up!" column, Three of Six highlights at least one blog that is worth a visit. This week's picks are:

The Wesley Blog - Even if he didn't have lots of good content on a broad variety of topics, Shayne Raynor's site would be noteable for the Wesleyan flavour he adds to the Christian blogosphere, which to-date seems dominated by the Calvinist persuasion.

Outsiders' Opinions - My son, "Two of Two," and a few friends have started a team blog. Leave a comment to encourage these young writers!

Pardon my Spanish

2005-07-30T06:29:00.000-04:00

SI.com has a story about a Little League umpire who forbade players and coaches to speak Spanish during a recent game in Massachusetts. The Spanish-speaking team was demoralized, and went on to lose the game.

The prejudice against those of Hispanic heritage is an issue that gets less publicity than discrimination against African-Americans, but is just as real. I realized this last year, when we lived for several months in a small community in the Northwest. I don't know that it was a conscious decision on the part of the majority Anglo community to say: "We don't like Spanish speaking people." Mostly, it seemed to be two communities living side-by-side, two parallel worlds, like an old episode of StarTrek: TNG.

How do we tear down the walls between those two worlds?

The tiny outpost of Franklin Center, Quebec may point the way forward. For more than two decades, the province of Quebec has suffered a costly tug-of-war between "French only" proponents, and English speakers with roots elsewhere in Canada. Consequently, Montreal is a shell of its former self, as many Anglophones, frustrated by draconian provincial language laws, voted with their feet and moved to Ontario and other English-friendly provinces. But in tiny Franklin Center, just a few miles from the New York state border, they found a happier compromise. All instruction in the elementary school is bi-lingual, but on alternating days. On Monday, all subjects are taught in English; Tuesday, they teach in French, and so forth throughout the week. In this way, students end up comfortable in both languages.

Like Quebec, the United States has two predominant languages. Increasingly, those who know only one or the other will be at a disadvantage in hiring and promotion. The Franklin Center model is worth consideration. Who knows? Maybe next year, they'll play a bi-lingual game of baseball in Massachusetts, alternating innings. Maybe then no child will have to say: "Pardon my Spanish."

Blue shirt, gray pants?

2005-07-29T19:12:00.000-04:00

Legend has it that at the outbreak of the American Civil War, one torn young man couldn't decide whether to join the army of the Union or the Confederacy. At last, he thought he had found the perfect compromise. He slipped into a navy blue shirt and gray pants, grabbed his gun, then charged into battle. Seconds later, bullets whizzed by him, coming from both directions. The hapless soldier became a target for both sides.

Today, Dr. Frist rushed into the fray wearing a blue shirt and gray pants. "I'm still pro-life," he insists, even as he lurches left on the embryonic stem cell debate. In the end, he may end up mistrusted by conservatives and liberals alike.

Senator Frist in his speech assured his fellow Senators that embryos would be treated with "dignity." But no amount of soothing rhetoric can mask the fact that the blastocyst, which Frist admits is "nascent human life," is destroyed in the process.

The tragedy of this political suicide is that it didn't have to happen. A heart-lung transplant surgeon, surely he knows like Wolfgang Lillge, M.D., of 21st Century Science and Technology that adult stem cell research has already proven itself useful in the treatment of the death of heart tissue. In addition, in some cases, it is therapeutic for chronic stomach ailments, as well as blood and skin diseases. (On the other hand, embryonic stem cell research to-date has shown little of the same therapeutic promise). Best of all, adult stem cell manipulation does not wipe out human life; no embryo is destroyed.

The main argument pushing House and Senate members into voting in favor of federal funding of embryonic stem cell research is that the embryos would be discarded anyways. But would they? Steve Chapman of the Chicago Tribune reports that thousands of couples are already adopting embryos leftover from others' in vitro fertilization procedures. These couples of modest means, many of whom could never have afforded their own in vitro regimen, can now adopt an embryo. Nine months later, they have a healthy baby. A nascent life that otherwise would never have fully gestated is welcomed into a loving home. Sounds like a win-win to me.

Meanwhile, Dr. Frist will be sporting his blue pants and gray shirt around Washington, to the applause of many a pundit. One place he's not likely to be wearing them in January 2009 is inside the residence at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Where no safety cone has gone before

2005-07-29T07:01:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, a friend of mine complained about the taxes withheld from her paycheck. When she and her husband are working hard just to put a roof over their heads and feed their children, wouldn't it make more sense to let her keep it? After all, doesn't she need it more than the government?

Good question. Thankfully, I didn't have to invent an answer. Jesus famously said to give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God. The Lord creatively practiced what he preached by sending Peter to dislodge a coin from the mouth of a fish. He then told him to take it to the tax collectors. Despite its obvious faults, Christ wasn't opposed to supporting Rome's infrastructure.

Like it or not, April 15 is part of the glue that holds America together as a people. And I've been places overseas "where no safety cone has gone before." Those places had lots to offer, but good roads weren't on the list, nor retirement pensions, nor unemployment benefits, nor good hospitals, come to think of it.

Taxes are a pain. No taxes are worse. VIVE the orange safety cone!

Chaim Potok delivers

2005-07-28T07:42:00.000-04:00

If the late Rabbi Chaim Potok had never taken up his pen to write, one wonders whether the world would know anything about this literary giant.

I just finished reading The Promise, the sequel to his better known The Chosen. Now, I'll have to go back and read the latter. I'm hooked!

Potok brings you inside the complex world of New York Judaism following World War II. His characters come to life as they struggle to balance the comforting but confining ways of Hasidism with new ways of interpeting the Torah that seem to better accomodate modern life in America. In those struggles shine both the desire for God and the desire to live as a child of the 20th century. Must one choose one or the other, or is there a "third way"? In each path lies pain. For Potok, there are no easy answers. But then again, whoever said life was simple?

If you don't mind jagged edges, give The Promise a try.

2005 Political Chameleon Award

2005-07-27T13:06:00.000-04:00

The committee of three has met (me, myself, and I), and the Political Chameleon Award for 2005 goes to (appropriate drumroll):

New York Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Senator Clinton is nothing if not clever. Iraq? As hawkish as they come, using her perch on the Senate Armed Services Committee to push for the expansion of the Army by one division. On abortion, she's re-treading her husband's "safe, legal, and rare" rhetoric, though abortions continued apace under her husband's presidency. Did she have tea lately with Tipper Gore? One would think so, since she's going after video game makers like she's on a moral crusade, all echoes of a once conservative Mr. and Mrs. Gore.

Harvard professor Samuel Huntington argues that the U.S. is going through a religious revival. Will it be accompanied by tectonic shifts in public attitudes about morality? It's probably too soon to tell. However, Senator Clinton tracking to the right seems to be only the latest indicator that if you want to be elected, you must reflect the values of the mainstream of voters, and that mainstream is clearly to the right of official Democratic party dogma. If winning the White House means doing the chameleon routine, so be it.

Whether Clinton's changes are heartfelt or mere window dressing remains to be seen. What is almost certain is that Democratic Presidential candidates in 2008 will look more like Joe Lieberman than Dennis Kucinich. The junior Senator from New York won't be the only chameleon come primary time.

Update: David Shraub responds at TMV.

It's not about the bike

2005-07-27T06:07:00.000-04:00

How do you go through testicular cancer, and fight back to win the Tour de France?

That's the message of Lance Armstrong's It's Not About the Bike: A Journey Back to Life. The version I read was in French, picked-up several years ago in the Côte d’Ivoire.

As translations go, it wasn’t half bad, and the inspirational story came through strongly. Even the “big, bad French” wrongly villified by Bill O’Reilly seem enamored by the man from the flatlands of Texas who conquered the Alps.

The Tour de France is one of those events under-appreciated by most of us Americans. I had the joy with my family of watching the cyclists struggle uphill one morning in July ’94 when they passed by a small town in southeast France. It was worth the sleepless night in our roadside tent to experience the excitement. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Now with 7 feathers in Armstrong's cap, don’t be surprised to see an updated version of It’s Not About the Bike coming to a public library near you. Check it out.

"Stargate SG-1" invasion

2005-07-25T07:30:00.000-04:00

One of the side-effects of being an American family abroad is that we often have to play catch-up when it comes to popular shows on TV. Last year, when we had a full 12 months Stateside, Two of Two became addicted to "Full House" and "Seventh Heaven." Now that we're back overseas, those shows are no longer on his radar screen. But never to fear...a friend dropped off several seasons worth of Stargate SG-1. So, we've had a major invasion of alien creatures in our home for the past two weeks, as the lazy days of summer turn into a sci-fi marathon for two brothers.

Even dad has sat down for a handful of episodes, and mostly, I like what I see. Admittedly, I miss Richard Dean Anderson's "MacGyver" who could build just about anything in 20 minutes out of wire, aluminum foil, and his trusty Swiss Army knife. His new character, Jack O'Neill, though a good commando, is about as bright as a 25w lightbulb, but that's not so bad. He provides a good foil for the other three characters, who are brilliant in archaeology and linguistics (Michael Shanks as Dr. Daniel Jackson), math/science (Amanda Tapping as Major Samantha Carter) and alien mythology (Christopher Judge as Teal'c). "Stargate" makes being smart cool.

While "Stargate" is generally wholesome, some of the messages coming across are not helpful. In one episode, Teal'c must be disabused of his belief in a false god. The not-so-subtle humanistic undertone was that the only "god" that we should believe is the "god" of self-reliance. That's a good American message, but not particularly Christian. As Blaise Pascal once said, having faith is the most reasonable thing to do. Yes, there are false gods, unworthy of our worship, but there is a true God who is both good and loving. This lesson is entirely missing from "Stargate" ideology.

Despite these cautionary words, there is much to admire in the "Stargate" universe. The loyalty on-display between the four primary characters means looking out for each other, no matter what. Furthermore, notions of "good" and "evil" are often in evidence. The former is to be embraced, while the latter should be shunned.

"Stargate" has rightfully won a number of awards. We're come a long ways from the low-budget days of "Star Trek" when productions were made on a shoe-string. Parents should talk to their kids about some of the on-screen messages. "Stargate" is an excellent opportunity for good entertainment and honing the ability in our children to discern what is in agreement with a Christian worldview and what falls short.

Light blogging this week

2005-07-17T22:50:00.000-04:00

Time to jump-start my PhD research. Check back in next week.

Paying back evil with good

2005-07-16T14:44:00.000-04:00

Donald Sensing has incredible footage of a sniper's attack on an American soldier patrolling in Baghdad. The impact knocked the G.I medic over, and later when he and his buddies arrested the sniper, he gave him first-aid for his wounds. Any guess whether this story will make headlines? Nah, shows our soldiers in a good light. Can't let that happen!

UPDATE: CNN has video coverage up on their site today (Tuesday). Good job, CNN.

A warning from a silver maple

2005-07-15T07:38:00.000-04:00

"Another tree is down." When my father-in-law heard the news, he rounded up his three "expert" helpers: myself, and his two strapping grandsons. Chain saw in hand, safety glasses on, he began cutting up the downed silver maple. A trained forest ranger, he made quick work of the once impressive tree. Piece-by-piece, we carried it away.

What made this giant fall?

The question haunted me while working together that day. Finally, as we examined the trunk, I saw my first clue. Hundreds of ants scurried along the contours of the twisted trunk, diving into cracks, working away as if nothing had happened, as if their wooden home was still in vertical position, and not laying defeated on the damp ground. My father-in-law came over and had a look. "Those aren't just any ants," he told me. "Those are carpenter ants, and they can fell a tree."

How long had those ambitious creatures been gnawing away on the trunk of that silver maple? Had it been weeks? Months? Years? The havoc they were gradually wrecking went unnoticed. It was happening on the inside. Though invisible on the outside, eventually, its effects could no longer be hidden; they were obvious to all.

A proud silver maple fell.

Carpenter ants are a warning to individuals and societies. As individuals, we can sometimes hide from others the shameful actions that risk shattering the trust upon which our relationships are built. As societies, we can sweep under the carpet practices that later negatively affect us all. It's never hard to rationalize at the time, but it's excruciating later to pick up the pieces. There's always a price to pay, whether it's an affair that rips apart a family, or embezzlement that brings down a company like Enron.

Time to take action. Silver maples can fall, and so can we.

So long, Jack

2005-07-14T07:11:00.000-04:00

This weekend marks Jack Nicklaus' last time to play golf competitively in the British Open. To mark the occasion, the Royal Bank of Scotland is issuing a special five pound note, an honor it has only bestowed upon Queen Elizabeth and her now late mother, the Queen Mum.

For me, Nicklaus' 18 major golf titles are summed-up in a sultry Saturday at the Oak Hills country club in Rochester, New York in the late summer of 1980. The PGA Championship was in town, and Nicklaus was teeing off on the par 4 first hole. He put his second shot nicely up on the "dance floor," and was walking down the fairway. Everyone knew that he would score a birdie if he sunk the next putt. As he came by, about 30 yards away from where I stood with other spectators, lining the rough, something came over me. "Put it in!" I yelled to the passing legend. Is it just my memory embellishing things, or did Nicklaus really scan the crowd, catch my eye, smile faintly and nod his head in agreement? Whatever happened, 5 minutes later, I heard a roar go up from the crowd. I rushed up to the edge of of the green and asked one of the spectators what had happened. "It's Nicklaus," he said. "Just sank a 50 foot putt for birdie." The Golden Bear went on to win the PGA that year, and as Paul Harvey says, now you know the rest of the story.

To translate is to betray

2005-07-13T23:47:00.000-04:00

The French have a saying: "Traduire, c'est trahir -- to translate is to betray." Former President Jimmy Carter found this out the hard way when his interpreter famously used the wrong word in Poland. The affable man from Plains, Georgia said with his southern American English: "I love the Polish people." Carter's hapless interpreter rendered it: "I lust the Polish people." Oh, the difference the right word makes!

Pitfalls notwithstanding, we'll always need someone to bridge the gap between languages. WatchingAmerica.com is a unique site that translates selected articles from countries around the world. Each article has something to do with the United States, allowing the American reader to penetrate the linguistic veil and see what others are saying about us.

Because the Christian Science Monitor recommended the service, it wasn't surprising to find many positive elements upon visiting the site. For my fellow Americans convinced that the world hates us, you can find unflattering articles, such as the headline in the Tunis Hebdo of July 6, simply titled "America: An extraordinarily voracious country." Others present a more positive view, such as the July 7 Asia Times that trumpets: "Why 71% of Indians like the United States."

As a student of French, I wanted to see whether the English was an accurate translation from the French original. A July 8 article from Liberation was my test case. I compared the headlines, and found that in French it spoke of abortion, and Bush being "at the feet of the Supreme court." Strangely, no mention of abortion appeared in the English translation of the headline. Worse, it added elements that never appeared in the original French headline, saying that "the ideological choices have never been starker, nor the battle to come as fierce." Call me a strict constructionist, but a translator does not have the liberty to put words in the mouth of a writer.

The first paragraph of the article was considerably better than the botched headline. In general it was accurate, but even here, there were discrepencies. The French spoke of "lobbies of the religious right" crusading against abortion. In English, this was rendered "the religious lobbies." Considering that there are many religious people on the left who would be in favor of maintaining current abortion law, this is a significant error. Furthermore, the French original calls the Supreme Court "a powerful institution." On the other hand, the English translation calls it "one of the country's most powerful institutions." As Billy Crystal says in The Princess Bride, there's a big difference between "dead" and "mostly dead." And so, there's a big difference between these two descriptions, like the difference between a bicycle and a Harley Davidson.

We might live in the era of instant gratification, but some things still just take good, old fashioned hard work. Language learning is one of them. Let's not start any wars based on something we read on WatchingAmerica.com. And the next time your local school board is looking for ways to cut the budget, tell them to keep their hands off the foreign language program. Our national security may depend on it.

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This article has been double-posted to DigitalDissent.com.

"Veggie Tales" addiction

2005-07-13T17:52:00.000-04:00

Whoever said "Veggie Tales" is only for munchkins?

One of the latest videos, "Minnesota Cuke," includes a silly song titled "Pizza Angel." One of Two, my seventeen year old, transcribed all the words, and has been crooning it around the house all day with his little brother, Two of Two. Funny thing is, it's kind of catchy. Will I be dreaming of pizza tonight?

"Veggie Tales" has found a niche in the media market. Unlike some other video productions that excuse shoddy work with spiritual mumbo-jumbo, Big Idea has top-rate animation and good story lines. Just when it gets a bit preachy, the chuckle-factor kicks in. "Veggie Tales," may your tribe increase.

Royal blue Nikes with yellow swoosh stripes

2005-07-11T23:51:00.000-04:00

The summer Olympic games of 1976 changed my life.

In-between mowing lawns for the neighbor for $ 6.00 a pop and endless games of "Risk" with my brothers, that summer brought a memorable event. Frank Shorter ran into the history books when he won a silver medal in the Montreal Olympic marathon.

Before then, I never thought I could compete in foot races. In fact, my all-too-miserable one year of Little League in third grade and the constant shelacking my brother gave me in tennis convinced me that when God passed out the athletic ability, He'd played a cruel joke on me. My sporting "meter" registered somewhere between little and none-at-all.

But Frank Shorter gave me hope. After all, how hard could running be? You don't have to throw a ball or pin an opponent. By my way of thinking, what could be easier? All you had to do was put one foot in front of another. A few lawns later, and I had enough to make the "big purchase." I was the proud owner of a pair of royal blue Nike trainers, with a distinctive yellow "swoosh" up the side.

I'll never forget the first day of cross-country practice. I was a green freshman, but Mr. Tike (pronounced "tie-key") was a veteran. Whistle hanging around his neck, his body bulging with muscles I doubted I'd ever have, he barked out the orders like a drill sergeant: "Ok, everyone, take a mile lap." We took off around the course. My time was around 7 1/2 minutes. "Do another one," he snapped. 7 min 45 sec this time; I was tiring. (Maybe I should have trained a little harder at home?) My disbelief only grew as he said "do another one" six more times. That day, we ran 8 timed miles around the ball fields of our high school. Purgatory is too pale a word.

The next two years brought many cross-country meets, and most of the time, I was 2/3 back in the pack at the finish line. Mediocre though I was, it helped that I ran for a mediocre team. At the end of the second year, they pinned a letter on me. I'd proven something to myself. I could compete not only in academics, but also in athletics. My junior year saw me working produce part-time at the neighborhood grocery store. I'd proved my point; I never competed in cross-country again.

The summer of '76 seemed like a long time ago tonight when I ran a mere two miles around the property where we now live. A human body at 42 is a different creature than one at 13. Slow though I now am, I'm reminded as I puff along the rocky path that running is more than earning an athletic letter, or even shedding a few unwanted pounds. Running is a metaphor for life.

Running has taught me that there's bound to be someone better than you. That's no reason to sit out the race. It's a reminder that just when you feel the most like quitting, don't. Your "second wind" is about to kick-in. Running teaches perseverance, that anything worth winning is worth the hard work. And most of all, running reminds us of our limitations, that to press up the next hill, we need the strength that only God can give, and the encouragement that comes from teammates in the race, or cheerleaders along the course.

I never accomplished a fraction as a runner of what Mr. Shorter did, but that's OK. Maybe there's another competition for me yet. But even if I never race again, I won't forget the lessons learned when for two seasons I strapped on my royal blue Nikes with yellow swoosh stripes.

"Everything and more" a wholesome alternative

2005-07-10T09:15:00.000-04:00

I'm always a bit hesitant to give kudos to a talented vocalist, for fear they'll go the way of Britney Spears or Justin Timberlake. Too often, a wholesome singer gets "big" then mutates overnight from a mild PG to a strong R, a definite turn-off.

With that disclaimer, let me recommend a new album from difficult-to-label Billy Gilman. "Everything and more" was in the "country" section at the store where I picked it up, but many of the cuts on the CD can hardly be called "country" in the traditional sense. The title cut (also a video, according to Gilman's website) spotlights the former boy soprano's new high tenor range. As a second tenor myself, I appreciate the ease with which he navigates the higher notes. The nearly two year exile imposed upon him is already paying dividends. "Looked into the wings," a later cut on the album, chronicles the young performer's angst as he wonders whether he'll ever sing again. This touching tribute to his manager Angela's unshakeable faith in him resonates with anyone who has ever had their best gift put in doubt.

Gilman sometimes sings as one teenager to another. "Missed you on Sunday" shows concern for a friend who is missing church and drifting toward the shadows. "Peaceable kingdom" is another hat-tip to Christianity, and indicative of the kind of soft-pedaled faith that won't please the fundamentalist, but is likely to build bridges to those seeking faith. In a day when many teens live in cocoons no bigger than their own high school, Billy shows sensitivity to world events. "Is anybody out there?" is a cry for help from a soldier wounded on a battlefield in Iraq. On the other hand, Billy's not afraid to lighten-up with the more honky-tonk sounding "Three words, two hearts, one kiss," a sure crowd pleaser.

Like any maturing artist, there's always room for improvement. Gilman's first instincts to exclude "Awaken the music" from the CD may have been correct. This modern interpretation of a Mozart composition includes rapid lyrics that are difficult to decipher; the song seems the odd-one-out stylistically.

Gilman's appeal is clear: implicit faith, wholesome lyrics, and the common touch. "Everything and more" was my Father's Day gift, but it has multi-generational appeal, if the number of times my sons played it in the car on our recent vacation is any indication. It's an auspicious return to the stage for a likeable star with a bright future. Keep up the good work, Billy, and never give anyone a reason to miss you on Sunday.

2005-07-09T08:40:00.000-04:00

"A house without books is like a room without windows." - Horace Mann (1796-1859), early American educator

Houses with no windows

2005-07-09T08:09:00.000-04:00

The snapshot above is from the sculpture outside the public library of Fruitville, Florida, in the St.Petersburg/Tampa area. It was one of those serindipities. On family vacation, we'd taken a wrong turn, and while turning around in the library parking, the sun caught the shiny surface of the artwork. Behind it was a placid pond, and a single bench in a grassy knoll. So...we forgot about the destination, and started enjoying the trip.

Mann's quote gets you thinking.

In my work-related travels, I've noticed three groups of people. The first group is allergic to the printed word. You won't find a book or a newspaper anywhere in their living room, though the TV may blare constantly. Another group are those who want to appear as if they like books, so to make their home look a little more classy, they'll display a handful of nicely bound volumes with gold lettering. It's not intended for use, just to impress. The third group are those who have books tossed all over the place, books of all kinds. Some are deep, some are funny, but usually they're dog-earred, and many came from Goodwill for 10 cents or a quarter. I usually know whether we'll have much to discuss by seeing which category the family's living room falls into.

It's summer time. What have you read lately?

Tell me:

1. One thing you like about what you're reading;
2. One thing you'd improve if you were the author.

Enjoy the trip.

The demise of temptation

2005-07-08T06:50:00.000-04:00

Temptation - remember that word? It survives mostly in the names of sugary confections promoted by TV ads during the year-end holidays. Or for some of us who are a bit older, we think of Diana Ross and the Temptations, or maybe even the old image of a tiny angel on one shoulder, and a horned and tailed red devil on the other. As a culture, we have a memory of the word, even if in the era of Dr. Phil it has fallen on hard times.

The word temptation, nonetheless, is a crucial one in the conversation we're having in America about issues like homosexuality. Wrapped-up in that one word are two key ideas:

1. Outside influences matter -- No one is an island. We are born into a specific context, a family of some kind that leaves its imprint upon us like a foot in wet cement. No one chooses the environment in which one is raised; it is chosen by others, by the procreative act of a man and woman. As we age, the circle of influence broadens to include peers, teachers, pastors, friends, and many others. Parents soon realize the shaping power of others, and seek to protect the character of their offspring by monitoring those with whom they associate. "Those who lie down with dogs get fleas." Others influence each of us, for evil or for good.

2. Ultimately, each of us must choose our own path -- While outside influences matter, each of us is faced with a decision. Temptation would not be temptation if we were obligated or forced to act in a certain way. That would be compulsion. Christian theology teaches that there is a tendency in the human heart to follow what is wrong. On the other hand, there is divine influence upon us, calling us to a better way. In the end, we will follow that path to which we surrender the power of our own will.

So what does temptation teach us about the current dialogue on homosexuality? It tells us that both sides in the debate have latched on to part of the truth, but are neglecting the rest of it. How so?

On the one hand are the rabid sign-carriers, those who are ready to condemn the homosexual to hell. They see only a person who has chosen evil, and could have chosen good. Such a misguided zealot has forgotten that, while God might not create a person as a homosexual, the complex dyanamics of early life, what psychologists call "nurture," are an incredibly powerful force that should not be dismissed out-of-hand.

On the other hand are the advocates for so-called "gay marriage," who are agitating at all levels of government for a change in the notion of what marriage is, i.e. a life-long union between one man and one woman. They have correctly understood the power of early-life influences upon their own character. However, they have failed to realize that however strong those influences, they do not rob the individual of moral choice. While they may not choose the feelings of same-sex attraction, they still have the power, with God's help, to choose how to respond to those feelings.

When I briefly taught theology at a Christian university in the United States, homosexuality was a topic on which students wanted answers. Temptation is the most important idea upon which a Christian response should be built. The concept of temptation forces each of us to listen with compassion to the individual struggling with same-sex attraction. We realize the power of outside influences, whether on the internet, television, or from upbringing. Because of this, while we acknowledge the destructiveness of any sin, we cannot glibly condemn. We can only love! In the same way, we realize the power of grace, that God does not leave us alone in our temptation, but will help those who ask for it. Equally importantly, we will seek to surround such persons with positive influences, others who refuse to view homosexuality as a "greater" offence, but only as one of a long list of maladies that the Lord can heal.

The next time someone says "I am gay," challenge them to put it this way instead: "I'm constantly tempted to act on my romantic feelings toward others of my gender, and too often, I fail." With God's help, and the help of caring others, the next time they can say: "While I'm still tempted in this way, more and more, I'm able to overcome this temptation." In this way, let us bring the resources of the Christian faith to the rescue of many who didn't choose their orientation, but are looking for help to head in a new direction. Would Jesus do any less?

Time to overturn Roe v. Wade

2005-07-06T18:48:00.000-04:00

On September 11, 2001, 2,819 individuals from 115 nations were killed when terrorists slammed fuel laden jets into the Twin Towers in lower Manhattan. That heinous act of terror, combined with the attack on the Pentagon and the jet crashed into a Pennsylvania farm, was the opening salvo in a War on Terrorism that continues to this day. Its theatres include Afghanistan, Iraq, and perhaps covert operations in obscure countries few Americans could locate on a map.

On January 22, 1973, another event happened that few noticed then, but which has produced infinitely more carnage than the rabid Saudi Arabians unleashed from a clear blue NYC sky. The Supreme Court on that January day struck down numerous state laws that outlawed abortions. Since that watershed ruling, approximately 40 million abortions have been performed in America. To put this in perspective, that's roughly the carnage of 14,200 September 11 attacks, but because it happens privately in abortion clinics and not on our TV screens, most of us give it little thought. Too many of us still must learn, like Peter Parker, that with great power comes great responsibility. Of all powers, the power to create human life is unquestionably one of the greatest. The peace of mind of individuals and communities requires that we take responsibility for the children that we create, within marriage and without.

With the retirement of Sandra Day O'Connor, President Bush has an opportunity to nominate someone to the Supreme Court who will review Roe v. Wade. Should such a judge be seated on our nation's highest court, it is possible that we as a people will once again be given the opportunity to take responsibility for our creative choices. In the event that Roe v. Wade is overturned, abortion law would happily revert to the pre-1973 patchwork of laws, which allowed those who were determined to have an abortion to travel to another state to receive it. On the other hand, those who live in states that find abortion abhorrent would still be able to avail themselves of adoption options upon a child's birth. The double advantage of this state of affairs is:

1. a built-in "waiting period" in which a woman who has to travel across state lines has a chance to reconsider her choice;

2. the principle of Federalism (guarding State rights) is upheld. There is always less fallout from political decisions when they are made closer to the people. Ever wonder why abortion wasn't controversial before Roe? This surely explains it.

There is precedent for putting life issues in the hands of State Legislatures. The death penalty, which is also the taking of a life, is largely decided by the States. Laws on putting criminals to death are supported by the population of a given state, and thus there is less public outcry when such laws are enforced. On the other hand, abortion clinics in states like Nebraska are currently roundly criticized by majorities of the local population precisely because they are out-of-step with the values of its citizens, where a "culture of life" is dominant. In other states, such as California, abortion would likely continue to be available. What is certain is that nationwide the numbers of abortions would plummet as communities come together to create better systems of taking care of unwanted newborns and their caught-in-a-pickle mothers. Surely this is the same spirit of caring about the forgotten which prompts both Democrats and Republicans to denounce the torture of prisoners at Abu Ghraib or the killing of baby seals in the Artic circle. Or is consistency a victim of the rank partisanship that has spoiled political discourse in our great nation? Only too soon, we'll know the answer to that question.

This has been double-posted to DigitalDissent.com.

Five things I've learned in 42 years

2005-06-26T09:51:00.000-04:00

Being "middle aged" at forty-two would mean I'll live to be eighty-four. Statistically, that's unlikely, though if genes mean anything, my German-American heritage may take me into my nineties.

"Over the hill" or not, maybe today is the time to write down a few of the things I've learned in forty-two years on God's green earth:

1. New and improved isn't necessarily. Remember "new Coke"? That stuff was terrible. I'm glad that "classic Coke" came back.

2. Beauty and character rarely keep company. Our culture worships the beautiful face, the perfect physique. What is it about that kind of adulation that makes jerks of the individuals who receive it? Some of the kindest people I know are the plainest.

3. The best head of lettuce is underneath. The produce department always rotates the fresh stuff to the bottom, so people will buy what's been on display for the longest, and therefore closest to spoiling. This goes for iceberg lettuce, but also for summer fruit. If it's still cold, it probably just came out of the cooler. Keep digging!

4. God is the same, but we experience Him differently. Some will claim to have been "saved" in an encounter with Jesus. Others can trace no such experience, but nonetheless profess loyalty to Christ. A person might have been brought up in a Christian tradition that uses different vocabulary than yours. Keep your cookie cutters in the kitchen; God works differently in different persons.

5. Find what you're good at, and go for it. Parents, let your kids try lots of different things when they're growing up. That's how they'll discover something they're good at. When they do, positive self-esteem is just around the corner. And by the way, what you like and are good at isn't necessarily the same for them. You play trumpet; they might want to play the drums.

Harmony in the heartland

2005-06-25T22:49:00.000-04:00

A few years ago, "Denny's" was sued for racial insensitivity. No one else will report a story that cuts the other direction, but they're out there. I found such a story tonight in Indianapolis.

It was my 42nd birthday, and for my party my wife and two sons took me out to "Golden Corral." After we'd loaded our plates higher than we probably should have, we sat and began to feast in a restaurant that was jammed with customers, even though it was late (7:30 p.m.) I looked at the faces around me. What did I see? Off to the left was a white family with toddlers, and beside them a black family. Both families had mom and dad present. I saw a single Anglo man conversing with a Korean and his several children. The four black women to my right smiled at me, and were happy to pass me a sugar packet for my coffee. Our server was a young black man, very efficient. Everyone that I heard addressed him as "sir" and when asking for things said "please." At another table I heard Spanish being spoken. Laughter was in the house.

After eating for ten or so minutes, I looked across the table at my wife and asked her: "Do you see what I see all around us?" She'd noticed, too. "I feel so good here," I said. "This is how it's supposed to be." Our family of four paid about $ 50.00 with the tip for that meal. Others likely paid about the same. Something right is happening with our economy, and whatever it is, it's colorblind.

Later tonight, I walked with my son in the downtown area. Two police officers passed on horseback, patrolling the area near the military park. They were engaged in easy conversation. One was white, one was black. It turned no heads; it's just too normal.

Earlier in the day, I chatted with a young man from Texas. Next year, he'll be attending an all black university in East Africa. No big deal. He can save big bucks on his college education, and he wants to learn about a place in the world far different than the whitebread one where he grew up.

A birthday dinner, a park patrol, and a cloistered young man yearning for other perspectives. Three times today, I saw a glimpse of our better angels. You can't wrap it up with a bow, but that really doesn't matter. It was my best present of all.

2005-06-20T11:32:00.000-04:00

The grace of a red Peterbilt - Has anyone ever sung an ode to these enduring work horses of the American highway?

On the road again

2005-06-13T14:18:00.000-04:00

Why is the last day before vacation always so impossible? There are a thousand details that resist resolving until the last minute. Seventy lbs. per suitcase back to America seems huge, until you actually start packing, then where did all that space go?

I'm not sure how much blogging I'll get done over the three weeks of our wandering. We'll clock many a mile in a rental car, so we'll see how 1 of 2 and 2 of 2 manage cooped up in the back. Hey, at least teens are easier to entertain than munchkins. Meanwhile, I'll have my trusty Pentax Optio along. I'm no Michael Totten when it comes to photography, but should post a nice shot or two from our travels.

Oh yeah, thanks to Justin Delabar at Digital Dissent for the link!

If you like "Three of Six," spread the word.

BONNES VACANCES!

2005-06-12T22:25:00.000-04:00

Fishing buddies in the Caribbean

Is the U.S. a Christian nation?

2005-06-11T20:42:00.000-04:00

It's an explosive question. Even raising it can set off alarm bells for practitioners of other faiths, or those of no faith at all. Is America a Christian nation? It may seem like fence-straddling for those who want just plain old "yes" or "no," but the answer is both "yes" and "no."

We are a Christian nation. The Mayflower Compact (1620), signed by 41 of the 102 passengers on-board, mentions not only "the honor of our King and Country," but "the Glory of God" and the "Advancement of the Christian Faith" as reasons for having undertaken the trans-Atlantic voyage. The Declaration of Independence (1776) speaks of both "the Laws of Nature" and "Nature's God." In the decades leading up to the Civil War (1861-65), it was Christians who advanced the most telling arguments against slavery. In 2001, Gallup measured church attendance at 41%, meaning more than 4 of 10 Americans went to church at least one per week. Across our country's short history, Christianity has played a key role.

We are not a Christian nation. In-light of the above church attendance statistics, it would be better to say that we are a nation where Christianity is the predominant religion. Even if 41% of us are in church at least once per week, this does not mean that our government sanctions one religion over another. On the contrary,our federal Constitution makes no mention of God; in this sense, it is a thorougly secular document. Religion is mentioned in the First Amendment, but only to say that Congress is forbidden from playing favorites, establishing one religion over another. By explicitly denying that a particular faith, whether Christian, Mormon, Muslim, or any other, is the state-recognized religion, there is a level playing field for all religions. Neutrality in religion is also implied in Article VI. Section 3 of the Constitution, which explicity prohibits the application of a "religious test" to candidates for public office.

Are there current threats to the time-honored principle of favoring all religions by establishing none? Yes. In the United States, two threats loom on the horizon:

1. Reconstructionism -Bruce Prescott documents the rise of so-called "Dominion theology" in Oklahoma. He dubs it "a revival of the holy war theology of the Hebrew Bible under the guise of Christianity." Dominionists expect to usher in the Kingdom of God by force of law, and, if necessary, by force of arms. Prescott credits their success to date to their "allying themselves with the Republican party and other conservative Christians and working through the political process."

2. Sharia - Nigeria provides an interesting study of what happens when Sharia (Islamic) law is imposed through governmental mechanisms. Now existing in 12 of Nigeria's 36 states, capital punishment is imposed for cases of adultery, and thieves lose a hand. Flogging is the punishment for drinking alcohol. Historically, Islamic law has been imposed even when significant numbers of practitioners of other faiths remain, such as in North Africa in the 7th century. "Dhimmitude" refers to the second-class status that Jews and Christians are made to suffer under Islamic rule, and is a telling warning of what happens when government makes one religion official.

Is the United States a religious nation? Obviously. Is it a Christian nation? It has many Christians, yes, but governmentally remains neutral toward all faiths, neither requiring faith of any citizen, nor in theory opposing believers of any persuasion who are willing to live peacefully within our borders. Only a clear understanding of this balancing act and a willingness to defend it can guarantee the free exercise of faith by all. It's an American tradition, part of our heritage, and worth defending!

Six sons, and no theories

2005-06-11T18:12:00.000-04:00

Years ago, my mom found a colorful porcelain plate at a rummage sale. Now hanging on her dining room wall, it simply reads:

"Before I got married, I had six theories about raising sons. Now I have six sons, and no theories."

Three of Six is a blog written by me, son # 3. I've never pondered much how birth order has affected my outlook on life, though I'm sure it has in ways I'll never understand. Lots of other factors that I never chose, though, have inevitably shaped my worldview: where I grew up, my parents' religious faith, the "heritage" of trumpet lessons starting in fourth grade, etc. In due time, these things and more will show up here at Three of Six.

If you're having trouble sleeping at night, maybe I am too. Hey, you might find even find something new here! Lots of politics, some theology, occasional talk about good books I've read, and frequent observatons from my "perch" outside the U.S., things I've noticed as an American "on the outside, looking in."

Just one rule for comments. Let's all say it together three times: respect, respect, respect.

Pull up a chair. Welcome to Three of Six!