I Pity The Fool

Honestly, whenever I discover or witness acts of discrimination against any group, my first response is anger. I want to somehow take your mean-spirited comments, your racist remarks, your homophobic slurs, your sexist stereotypes, your body shaming or your ignorant judgmental attitude and cram it back down your throat. I had to fight such a compulsion this very day, but I have moved on from my first response to a slightly kinder one… I pity you.

When I pause and really think about it, I genuinely feel sorry for you and your twisted, bitter existence. It’s truly sad that you think it takes putting others down to make you feel better. Let me ask, though…how is that working out for you? Are you actually any happier from mocking someone you consider somehow "less" than you? I suspect this is not the case because that is not how self-loathing is resolved.

Whether you are a believer in Jesus Christ or not, perhaps you know he said to  "Love your neighbor as yourself." I am afraid you are doing exactly that. You actually love your neighbor as little as you love yourself. How else can I explain the hatred flowing from your miserable heart other than deep down you despise your own life on some level? Only a wretched soul could find amusement in the suffering or degradation of others.

It is a tragic situation indeed if you are surrounded only by people that look like you, act like you and think like you. People are naturally drawn to those with whom we have things in common, but there is great truth to the adage “variety is the spice of life.” Some of my fondest memories have come from learning about and experiencing different cultures. My life is enriched by people who are very different from me.

That said, I have also found as I traveled around the world that underneath the superficial and artificial barriers such as skin color, nationality, language and so on that we are all much more similar than not. For example, I had the unexpected delight to discover the African man who ran the camp where I stayed in the middle of the Kenyan savanna was a huge Dolly Parton fan. Who would have thought?

One of the most important things for nearly every human being I have ever met is to know love. Not just the romantic kind, but affection, appreciation and acceptance of who they are. Sometimes to know love, you must first show love. Yeah, it can hurt sometimes, but I’ll take that kind of misery any day over the other kind.  I believe you will find it is a much surer path to joy than the one you are on now.

Final Decision

My morning began early with having to drive my daughter to University of Tennessee campus because she is having car trouble. After dropping her off, I went to the downtown Knoxville church where we had left her vehicle overnight. Neither the fob nor the spare key will open the doors and I try every combination of button pushing and key twisting I can think of. I finally call Nissan and they are puzzled also. I concede momentary defeat and call AAA who responds promptly.

The tow truck driver is especially energetic and friendly and makes what could be an awkward encounter easy. He has to do some extra work because we cannot get into the car to release the emergency brake. We are both engaged in figuring out a way to get in through the trunk (which the fob does open by the way) when we are approached by a young man who looks to be in his 20’s. He is dressed nicely and appears clean and rested.

I presume we are targeted for being in a church parking lot because he leads with “I need ya’ll to pray for me.” I turn my attention to him when he says, “I am trying to make a final decision.” I immediately wonder if he means FINAL-final and brace myself for a pastoral intervention. He then explains he is trying to decide among the many different options and offers he has. So I am put at ease that he is likely talking about employment opportunities. I have noticed through the years that many panhandlers have “just got a job” and need gas money, etc. I begin to expect the extended hand at this point. This is where it gets kind of strange.

“You know, it’s hard out here for an East Tennessee country boy with the way the world is now. Especially for a distant cousin of Heath Shular and you know what that means.” Um no, I really don’t get the relevance here. If you do not know, Heath was a popular quarterback for the UT football team back in the early 90’s. The fellow has lost me now and I wish him well with his decision and resume helping the tow truck driver. “Are you broken down?” he asks. Despite the fact that I am freezing my tail off and dealing with a frustrating situation before having my first cup of coffee, I still manage to refrain from responding, “Ya think?”

At this point he slowly wanders off to presumably try his pitch on some of the people heading into the Chocolate Festival at the convention center. The AAA guys laughs, “Well, he was pretty weird, wasn’t he?” He never openly asked for anything but the prayer, so that is what I have given him. He may be a little mentally unstable, so I will ask ya’ll to pray for Heath Shular’s long lost cousin, too. 

Princes and Princesses

As 2016 winds down and we reflect over the past year, people around my age (I’m currently 51) are sadly cataloging the pop cultural icons from the 70’s and 80’s that we lost. We grew up listening to David Bowie, Merle Haggard, Glenn Frey, Prince and George Michael. My television brought Grizzly Adams (Dan Haggerty), Carol Brady (Florence Henderson) and the White Shadow (Ken Howard) into my living room on a regular basis. My imagination was sparked on the silver screen by Gene Wilder, Alan Rickman and Carrie Fisher. Muhammad Ali, Pat Summitt and Arnold Palmer set high standards in their respective sports. Elie Wiesel and Harper Lee wrote words that will forever resonate with those who read them. We also lost genuine American hero John Glenn. These are just the biggest names in a long list of familiar faces that passed away in 2016.

My first thoughts about “famous” deaths are usually about how no amount of fame or fortune can keep anyone from that grave appointment with the grim reaper. Then I ponder about how odd it is for thousands of people to mourn the deaths of those they have never even met. I guess they seem like family because they have made us laugh and cry and cheer on the public stage. More than this, however, I believe losing the idols of our childhood remind us all too clearly of our own mortality. When the celebrity dies, we are reminded there is no escape for any of us and that day is looming ever closer.

Death was thrust into my life at an early age. In 1977, at the formative age of 12, I lost my 9 year old brother to leukemia. That’s the same year I first saw Princess Leia race through space with Luke and Han. Travelling to that galaxy far, far away in my mind was one of the ways I could temporarily escape the pain of this world. As my years now seem to pass with light speed, I have to face the fact I am more Kenobi than Skywalker. On this New Year's Eve, I am thankful for all the artists and icons that have made my life fuller along the way and for all the people I actually know and love that have made it worth living. 

I would wish you all luck in 2017, but as Obi-Wan says, “In my experience, there is no such thing as luck.”

Graphic by Mike LeMieux

Mountain Memories

One of the ways I deal with things is to write. I started this the day after wildfires raged through the city of Gatlinburg and the surrounding hills as a way of giving expression to my grief over what was happening in that unique mountain town. I did not originally intend to share this, but here it is 4:00 AM and I figured some of my memories might trigger some for others.

This is not an exhaustive list, but just the first thoughts that came to my mind when I think about a lifetime of visiting Gatlinburg and the surrounding area. 

My first recollection is a youth trip to the Mountain Mall in early 80’s where I discovered for the first time something called “White Chocolate.” I remember being fascinated by the big Jesus who watched me no matter where I moved at Christus Gardens.

One of the buildings destroyed in this fire was a restaurant named The Alamo. When the structure was first built, it was called "T.G.'s North of the Border Cafe and Cantina" after its owner, country singer T.G. Shepperd. My college roommate and I went there not long after it opened and were underwhelmed with the food. A fellow stopped by our table to ask what we thought and we were both "Meh." We did not realize until later that it was T.G. himself. 

I picture my buddy David and I people-watching while sitting on a stone wall in front of the Methodist Church. I can still smell the candied apples and see all the airbrushed T-shirts. I recall the fun of the Sweet Fanny Adams show along with entertainment co-workers from Silver Dollar City.  

I still think about trying to speak words of comfort to a crowded gym at Gatlinburg-Pittman High school following the tragic death of one of the youth from my church.

My wife Becky still teases me about not dancing with her at The Social Club and getting mad when she danced with someone else. We were “just friends” at the time and years before dating.

After work one day at Silver Dollar City, my friend Hank and I took a couple of train groupies to play Hillbilly Golf and then rode the rinky-dink two-person Sky Lift up for a pretty neat view.

Gatlinburg was a welcome return to civilization for my best friend Jay and I following a nearly disastrous tubing excursion in the National Park during flood conditions. 

My wife and I had our “Reception After the Reception” with our closest friends and spent our wedding night at the Edgewater Hotel. Some time later, I would spend many evenings killing time waiting on my new bride to finish work at Humdinger’s yogurt shop.

This time of year makes me think about cruising the Winterfest lights with my girls when they were young and riding the tram (excuse me, "Aerial Tramway") to Ober Gatlinburg to ice skate with my family. We celebrated my father-in-law's retirement at Mynatt Park. 

Of course, there have been years of Holston Conference Resurrection youth events at the convention center. Going to the Space Needle and playing in the arcade at its base was a favorite pastime for many of those trips. Breakfast at the Pancake House was another annual tradition for that youth group.

Most recently, we rented a huge cabin for the whole family on Ski Mountain to celebrate our anniversary. This does not even count hikes up to the Chimney Tops where this fire originated. The last time we had a birthday party at the Chimneys picnic area, we saw a Momma Bear and two cubs.

Needless to say, the Smokies and Gatlinburg are a huge part of my life and will continue to be so. As devastating as this is, I know the people and the town will bounce back. This sounds like a eulogy, but the mountains are not dead. This is just my way of honoring what a special place it is. 

Feed Them On Your Dreams

I had the honor and privilege of serving as “Principal for a Day” at Inskip Elementary here in Knoxville this week. Actually, it was really only half a day and not a single student was sent to my office while I was there. Oh well. Instead, it was an extended look at the faculty, classes and programs at the school. I am not sure what I expected the visit to be, but I left there very encouraged about these professionals and the children under their care.

The education “system” has been under fire in recent years. Most people also realize that teachers and school administrators are underpaid and often underappreciated. I have always had a healthy respect for those who dedicate their lives to education. My sister is a teacher/literacy coach and I can also point to several milestones in my own life for which I can thank a teacher who cared. Still, my admiration for them has only grown in light of this visit.

What I found was a team made up of administrators, teachers, social workers, counselors, nurses and specialized leaders working together to help grow these young minds. They demonstrated to me a care far beyond just “doing their job” and reinforced my thoughts that teaching is in many ways a “calling” not unlike ministry. The sincere concern they showed for the students having difficulties was striking, but I was even more impressed with how thoroughly they knew the kids and their family situations. Their hopes for them clearly do not end when class is dismissed.

I got to observe a few teachers in their classrooms with the students and one of the things that struck me immediately was just how diverse they were. At a glance, each room seemed equally populated with whites, blacks and Hispanics. This is clearly reflective of the community around them. I was slightly taken aback when I heard one of the teachers describe Inskip as an “inner city” school. I am not sure where I thought the inner city of Knoxville was, but it was enlightening to realize this is where I serve also through my church. I wish more people would embrace this as the beautiful view of America that it is.

The students in one of the classes were having trouble concentrating, so the teacher had them all stand up and do a quick set of 10 jumping jacks to get the blood flowing again. This prompted me to ask about physical education. I was disappointed to learn they are only allotted one day a week in the gym officially. I would later meet the gym teacher (Ed, Phys Ed.) who would welcome having the kids more frequently. I personally think this would help test scores more than additional class time. Several teachers told me how they try to squeeze in additional activity time for the students in spite of the heavy expectations of the curriculum.

Struggling with limited funds, space and other resources, these folks still seem to be working wonders. Without a classroom of their own, special areas such as music and technology make their rounds to the kid’s rooms with a cart. I was encouraged to find at least this effort was being made to shape well-rounded young people in a system with expectations weighted toward test scores. I hope there will be space allotted for these disciplines with the proposed building expansion.

I talked at length also with the director of the “Community School” program that runs daily from 2:30 – 5:30 PM. I appreciated hearing about the opportunities for children to receive some extra tutoring as well as more art and music, Spanish Club, Girls Inc. and tennis club. I have already put it on my calendar to come see the show planned in December by the performing arts class. (By the way Knoxville folks, they were very receptive to volunteers for any of these programs!)

I was also impressed with the community garden project started by a young lady from Americorps. This is a wonderful learning tool with the potential of being a real help to the neighborhood also. One of the 5^th grade teachers outlined plans for a “Men’s Club” in which boys are taught and modeled manners and other helpful social tools. I believe this type of “mentoring” effort will pay great dividends in the classroom and beyond.

I just wanted to share this positive experience because who doesn’t need an uplifting word now and then? 

My President

Donald Trump has been labeled many things by his opponents: Racist, misogynist, xenophobic, predatory. These labels are based mostly on some things he has said. Most decent folks from all sides were and should be offended by them. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, however, I ask if this is the sum of the man? Who hasn't said inappropriate things at some time or another? I am personally thankful to not have a hot mike on me all of the time.

Trump is clearly a clever man. This Yankee billionaire has managed to position himself as a "man of the people." I suspect much of his persona in this campaign was simply a strategic tactic to help him get elected. If this is true, it says more about us than him. He clearly tapped into a strong vein of anger and frustration with "Business As Usual" in Washington D.C. In many ways, this is the same vein that carried Bernie Sanders much further than anyone had expected.

I have jokingly said throughout the last year my fear was that one of these two candidates was going to get elected. Well, sure enough, my predication came true. As I write this, there are protests by some groups across the country chanting “Not My President.” Technically, this is true only until January 20, 2017. On that day, if you are a United States citizen, he is in fact your President as he will be my President. Can I suggest you hold your protests until if and when he does something worthy of taking to the streets? 

My hope is that Trump's frequent off the cuff comments are not as revealing of his true character as many are quick to believe. I sincerely hope he can utilize his business acumen and cleverness to address real issues in our government. I pray the weight of the office and the responsibilities therein will shape him into the leader our country needs for a time such as this. As I promised before, I will pray for my president and our country. 

Post-Election Prayer

This is my newsletter article for my church on October 27. 2016.

 

I am giving you this “Post-election Prayer” ahead of time for use after November 8th.

 

The 2016 U.S. Presidential election is now finally over. _________________ is now our country’s President-elect to be inaugurated in January. This person may not have been my candidate of choice, but they have nonetheless prevailed through the process of the greatest democracy on earth.

 

This has been a bitter campaign which has either led to or revealed a deep divisiveness in our country. Lord, please heal the rifts in our workplaces, churches and even families. Help us all hear again your message of love, grace and forgiveness. Lord, help me to release whatever anger or disappointment I may have with these results. If this was my candidate of choice, help me move forward with graciousness toward those who disagreed with me.

 

Lord, I know President-elect ____________________ is not perfect by any means. They are a sinner as are we. Please guide (him/her) in their decisions and help them be a leader and not merely a politician. This is also my prayer for all of our elected officials in Congress plus the justices of the Supreme Court.

 

Heavenly Father, we are thankful for the freedom we enjoy in this great nation. We are forever indebted to those who have sacrificed so much to make it possible. I have voted and done my civic duty. I am and always will be proud to be an American. However, regardless of who my president is, help me remember Jesus is my Lord. My allegiance is to our flag and to the republic for which it stands. Yet, my heart and soul belong to heaven.