I find myself conflicted as this Christmas season comes around. I just got back from Christmas shopping and I feel frustrated. First of all, Christmas shopping is a sin. It hurts (my feet and back are killing me, let alone my wallet!). People are rude and annoying (man have I got stories to tell). And all it creates is more work and less fun than just about anything this side of plucking out nose hairs. On top of all of this, I am conflicted this year about the whole idea of Christmas and the rampant materialism that has consumed the holiday.
About a month or so ago I went to a Chapel Service at Fuller and one of my professors gave the sermon (it was excellent!). He gave a concluding illustration about the materialism of Christmas. To try and fight against this and to be a responsible parent, he has created a Christmas tradition of his own within their family. He has given his kids money for Christmas (though now they earn their own) to use for Christmas gifts. However, the gifts cannot be given to anyone they know. The money is not to be used to buy presents for their parents or teachers or classmates. The money is to be given away to help someone or some group that is in need.
You might think that this has created friction with his kids - but just the opposite is true. They now spend the entire year listening to those who talk about the needy; they research different charities and non-profit groups that help others; they spend time figuring out just how much they can give and to whom to accomplish what kind of specific good. As he finished telling his illustration, there was not a dry eye in the house. He had struck a real nerve.
So, you can guess why I am conflicted. I have spent so much money on those I love and so little money on those in need that I have become the poster boy for the materialism that has overtaken Christmas. I will spend the next couple of days wrapping presents and we will take Monday to open the gifts and enjoy the bounty that will be under the tree. However, this year I will be thinking more about others and what their needs are then I am about me and mine. I wonder if Christmas will ever be the same. I hope not. Maybe I am remembering the story of the Wise Men who came to a needy family, spent their own money to help give them what they needed, and went home without gifts of their own and were glad for it. May we all take the journey back to Bethlehem this season and try and rediscover what giving is all about.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
I Think They Call it Hobnobbing
Websters defines "hobnob" as follows:
Hobnobbing with our social betters can be a hit-or-miss proposition, a fact that has an etymological justification. The verb hobnob originally meant “to drink together” and occurred as a varying phrase, hob or nob, hob-a-nob, or hob and nob, the first of which is recorded in 1763. This phrasal form reflects the origins of the verb in similar phrases that were used when two people toasted each other. The phrases were probably so used because hob is a variant of hab and nob of nab, which are probably forms of have and its negative. In Middle English, for example, one finds the forms habbe, “to have,” and nabbe, “not to have.” Hab or nab, or simply hab nab, thus meant “get or lose, hit or miss,” and the variant hob-nob also meant “hit or miss.” Used in the drinking phrase, hob or nob probably meant “give or take” from a drinking situation hob nob spread to other forms of chumminess.
Well, that's what I did last week. I spent the week with professors of homiletics (that's the science of preaching). I went with my mentor to the Academy of Homiletics Annual Meeting held this year in West Palm Beach, Fl. I went for two basic reasons. First, these are the men and women that I am reading. I met authors such as Richard Lischer, Eugene Lowry, Dick Eslinger, and others. OK, these names mean nothing to most everyone else but in my world it's like meeting rock stars or other famous people that you look up to. It was amazing to be able to put faces and voices to names and book titles. From this point on, these are the folks I will be reading (I actually spent about $200 on books by these and other authors - the book table was 50% off!). The second reason was to make contacts that might serve me well in the future. If I want to teach preaching somewhere, these are the men and women that help make those decisions and pave the way for folks like me to find a position. Though I doubt the Yale Divinity School will come calling (though I did meet there Homiletics faculty), others may be more conducive. It's never too early to be making contacts. After all, someone has to be willing to take a shot at a 57 year old (by the time I'm finished with the PhD) first time professor. I hope the 30+ years of experience will be a factor in my favor, but I want to make sure I have done my work properly.
One of the things Fuller promotes is the chance in the last section of your PhD to study with others. They work hard to make that work. Who knows, maybe one of the heavyweights will give me a chance to study with them for a quarter. Looks nice on the resume. I hope that might come about. Anyway, with my first quarter now history (my last class was last night - four quizzes in Hebrew and a recitation in front of the whole class!). So, I am officially done with classes. Now the real work begins. You should see the apartment! Cleaning, washing and dusting here I come!
Hobnobbing with our social betters can be a hit-or-miss proposition, a fact that has an etymological justification. The verb hobnob originally meant “to drink together” and occurred as a varying phrase, hob or nob, hob-a-nob, or hob and nob, the first of which is recorded in 1763. This phrasal form reflects the origins of the verb in similar phrases that were used when two people toasted each other. The phrases were probably so used because hob is a variant of hab and nob of nab, which are probably forms of have and its negative. In Middle English, for example, one finds the forms habbe, “to have,” and nabbe, “not to have.” Hab or nab, or simply hab nab, thus meant “get or lose, hit or miss,” and the variant hob-nob also meant “hit or miss.” Used in the drinking phrase, hob or nob probably meant “give or take” from a drinking situation hob nob spread to other forms of chumminess.
Well, that's what I did last week. I spent the week with professors of homiletics (that's the science of preaching). I went with my mentor to the Academy of Homiletics Annual Meeting held this year in West Palm Beach, Fl. I went for two basic reasons. First, these are the men and women that I am reading. I met authors such as Richard Lischer, Eugene Lowry, Dick Eslinger, and others. OK, these names mean nothing to most everyone else but in my world it's like meeting rock stars or other famous people that you look up to. It was amazing to be able to put faces and voices to names and book titles. From this point on, these are the folks I will be reading (I actually spent about $200 on books by these and other authors - the book table was 50% off!). The second reason was to make contacts that might serve me well in the future. If I want to teach preaching somewhere, these are the men and women that help make those decisions and pave the way for folks like me to find a position. Though I doubt the Yale Divinity School will come calling (though I did meet there Homiletics faculty), others may be more conducive. It's never too early to be making contacts. After all, someone has to be willing to take a shot at a 57 year old (by the time I'm finished with the PhD) first time professor. I hope the 30+ years of experience will be a factor in my favor, but I want to make sure I have done my work properly.
One of the things Fuller promotes is the chance in the last section of your PhD to study with others. They work hard to make that work. Who knows, maybe one of the heavyweights will give me a chance to study with them for a quarter. Looks nice on the resume. I hope that might come about. Anyway, with my first quarter now history (my last class was last night - four quizzes in Hebrew and a recitation in front of the whole class!). So, I am officially done with classes. Now the real work begins. You should see the apartment! Cleaning, washing and dusting here I come!
Friday, December 1, 2006
Mirrors and Windows
I sat next to a man on the airplane yesterday who had suffered a severe spinal chord injury. Unable to walk but a few feet, he had to use his scooter to go down the ramp to the door of the plane and then, painstakingly, walk the few steps to his seat. As everyone else got seated, he asked the flight attendant for an extension to his seatbelt (he was a pretty good sized guy). The attendant had to put the seatbelt on him because his arms don't function very well. During the flight I noticed that he had to swing his arms with his body in order to bring them up to his chest. He was sitting directly across the aisle from me and so we chatted briefly during the short flight from Atlanta to West Palm Beach.
Challenges. We think we have them - and we do. But everything in our lives ought to be considered alongside the reality of what it could be rather than the myopic view of what it is only. Traveling in a plane is uncomfortable for me (I am a big guy, too) but I found little room to complain yesterday. My arms worked. My legs got me going. I didn't have to have a scooter or a wheelchair to get me around. All in all, a pretty good flight and a fortunate life. Do I have physical problems? Sure. Do they pall in comparison to others? You bet. Do I hurt when they flare up? Absolutely. Should they get the best of me when they hit? Not on your life. Muddle on through. It could be worse.
There is an old story about a King who had the carpenters in his palace remove the mirror in his bedroom and replace it with a window. When they did, the King saw the plight of his subjects first hand and it changed the way he lived and ruled the rest of his life. The moral of the story? Stop looking so much in the mirror and get a window on the world. It may change how you live as much as it did the King.
Challenges. We think we have them - and we do. But everything in our lives ought to be considered alongside the reality of what it could be rather than the myopic view of what it is only. Traveling in a plane is uncomfortable for me (I am a big guy, too) but I found little room to complain yesterday. My arms worked. My legs got me going. I didn't have to have a scooter or a wheelchair to get me around. All in all, a pretty good flight and a fortunate life. Do I have physical problems? Sure. Do they pall in comparison to others? You bet. Do I hurt when they flare up? Absolutely. Should they get the best of me when they hit? Not on your life. Muddle on through. It could be worse.
There is an old story about a King who had the carpenters in his palace remove the mirror in his bedroom and replace it with a window. When they did, the King saw the plight of his subjects first hand and it changed the way he lived and ruled the rest of his life. The moral of the story? Stop looking so much in the mirror and get a window on the world. It may change how you live as much as it did the King.
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