On being "Godless" and by whose definition.

I work with churches for a living, and so attend many a gathering of same.   I was recently at a pastor's conference, at which a panel of four pastors gave their thoughts and advice to their colleagues.  One firmly espoused that the only right way to teach your flock was to lead them through the Bible from Genesis forward, book by book, chapter by chapter, not by thematically,   but only word for word.   Another dared to suggest , almost apologetically,  that while that was a solid idea, Jesus was a great storyteller, and taught often by example and by story.  The other resisted anything other than a literal word for word slogging through.  He mentioned having recently come from a trip to Australia and New Zealand , and referenced them as being Godless because (spoken in a outraged voice) "they teach evolution as fact!"

I am taken back that God and evolution cannot co-exist, and that only a literal belief in Adam and Eve and a 7 day creation story is considered Christian by this pastor.  My belief that Christ lived and died for me and fellow believers is what I think makes me a Christian. It is what he asked of us in the New Testament. I rather thought that Christ's life and death and resurrection in the New Testament was the point.  I don't recall Jesus spending a lot of time on such details of the Old Testament books. In fact he thought that many  spent way too much time on details of law, as opposed to simply doing what what right, and what he asked of us.  To put  him above all others, and to love our  neighbors as ourselves, feeding the poor.

I am taken back not so much by this pastor's  rejection  of evolution, but his discounting of the Christianity of any who would accept it.   It pains me that many of those who consider themselves the fiercest and most loyal of Christ's followers feel they only can be so by the judging the beliefs of other followers to be less authentic.

Classiest driver in OC

I have had my share of (figuratively speaking) run-ins with other drivers. It is usually I who is annoyed or outraged  by the way my fellow sharers of the road go about their daily commutes. Speedily zig zagging , sans use of turn signal , darting in and out of traffic, risking (our) life and limb in pursuit of one more car length, all while certain that the patch of asphalt in question is their personal possession. When cut off I have been known to honk or swear. However, I was taken by surprise today. I was driving in the second to fastest lane, and  although going 70 , I noticed that the traffic behind me was catching up, so I signaled and went to move to the right. Just before I changed lanes, a tall white  SUV passed me  on my right. As it passed, I saw, framed in the driver's window, a raised male forearm with extended middle finger.  I was truly surprised, as I really don't know what I did. He ( the arm looked male) wasn't the car that had been behind me, I waited for him to pass before, making  my lane change, so I don't know what the offense was. Maybe he felt I was holding up general progress. Hard to say. But  what is not hard to say, is that there not a shred of civility left on those roads. Lord save me from them.

Lindsay , sweetheart, go AWAY!

As I once ranted about Charlie Sheen's own ranting and legal issues: Lindsay Lohan, heed my words. Shut up, sit down and go away! Do not go out partying with your friends , do not drive a car, and for the good Lord's sake, have somebody stuff a sock in your uselessly enabling mother's mouth. You are not misunderstood, you are train wreck. You are , at best, and unintentionally , an object lesson in how not to live a life. Or how to blow a promising career.

I beg of you, take a loooong vacation. So long that the press forgets who you are, or so long that your comeback is a shot on Dancing With The Stars. If Andy Dick can do it, so can you. But please, take your time. I am waiting breathlessly for the day when the press does not consider you newsworthy.  Because I am sick of hearing about you. Really , really, really.

On being merely mortal

The thing about being mortal, (as most everyone I know is) is that most of us don't spend a whole lot of time considering the fact of our mortality . Illness or circumstances (such as a brush with, or the threat of death) may cause you to consider it, but for the most part it is just too hard on our heads and hearts to think on one day simply not being here any more.

I am not dying , fear not. Reading thoughts on the purpose of  the gravestone  advanced by Jim Butcher's Harry Dresden got me thinking. He was musing on how gravesites serve their purpose as long as those who truly remember the departed still live. It struck a nerve, in that I can still remember GG (my father's grandmother) , but am likely the only of my father's children who really does.  I also clearly remember all of my grandparents. My children never knew my father's parents, and don't really remember my mother's all that well.

I don't know if my children will have children. If you asked them now, they might say no. It struck me how easily I might be forgotten after only one generation's time. How little an impression or expression of any wisdom I might leave behind me. I like to believe I have an immortal soul, but the immortal don't truck much with those they leave behind, unless they annoy John Edward into passing on their messages.

It is surely my ego whining here, but I like the idea of the gen after my children having some idea of what a hoot I was. I wouldn't want my children to have children if they don't want them, but I kinda sorta wish they wanted them. I can (selfishly) hope that my niece and nephew have kids, as they like me and would like having me around their kids...so maybe I can be remembered by Gen Next as Great Aunt Elise..(GAE? TiaLise? ) who was funny and loving and good to have around.

No one wants to just vanish from memory.  I am not sure I have a lot of control over that, but it nonetheless came to mind.

I guess I want to mean something. I think I know that I do in the short run, but am not so sure in the long run. Hell,  I wonder how long it would take for me to be a distant memory if I (willingly or not) left my current job, let alone well down the road when I am merely an ( I hope) amusing old lady.

As I said, we mortals do not spend a whole lot of time considering  that fact.  With good reason. Better to go blithely on our way as if we will never die, and to go on trying to make ourselves memorable as if we will never be forgotten.

self examination

is highly overrated.

Do nice guys finish last?

I suppose that it depends on the finishing line in question. In the court of public opinion , or at least one's  immediate public, the answer might well be no. Not last in the hearts of those you have worked with,for and in the best interest of. Steadfastness,loyalty, responsiveness , advocacy, are all valued.  However, they are not enough. Being MLP ( Most Loved Player) is not the same as MVP. In the end, the numbers matter. Too bad that scoring assists, like they do in basketball, does not have the same value in the business world. You gotta score your own, or you will finish out of the money.  Or be traded.

Finishing first ( or at least not last) and also happening to be a nice guy means you can look yourself in the mirror, and not just be proud of your success, but satisfied with your true worth.  So, I suppose,that knowing your true worth is not truly finishing last, but I do wish it was enough.

When all is said and done, nice is nice, but it isn't enough. Less than nice is OK by most, if you produce the desired numbers.

The "radicalization" of the OC Register

The opinion section of the above named newspaper never fails to amuse. The new owners have been giving somewhat greater space to other than the oh so right of right opinions of the paper's history. A few more left of center letters in the letters section, even actual opinion pieces, heaven help us. I have seen my own opinion reflected there, which is that of relief of seeing a few more positions closer to my own. I also have seen those letters which state that if the reader wanted to see "that kind" of opinion or coverage, they could read the LA Times, and thereby threaten to stop subscribing. That is the part that amuses, since I have more than once thought I should cancel the Register, if only for the sake of my blood pressure. 

Now that they have actually begun to balance their coverage, Lord knows we can't tolerate that sort of thing, right?