A couple of weeks ago, our church service featured a fireside chat/discussion about prayer. We spent the whole service talking about what prayer is for each of us, what kinds of baggage we might have coming from our various institutional churches. We pondered what exactly it is that prayer does. How does it work? What is the purpose of prayer, we wondered. As is fairly usual for my church we didn’t come to any conclusions. I don’t think I was alone in leaving with the tiniest frustration that we spent the whole service talking about prayer and then, um, didn’t pray. My largest fear with my wonderful little faith community is that we tend to over-intellectualize things, especially those issues which might bite too close to the bone.

In any case, I’ve spent a fair amount of time since that Sunday thinking about prayer and about my particular journey with prayer over the past 17 years. Whoosh … that’s a long time.

I’ve read many books on prayer. The most influential was Richard Foster’s Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home. I’ve read it a couple of times. His writing and beliefs on prayer have become internalized and I have no ability to review the book with any sense of objectivity. I’ve read other books which promise to unlock certain aspects of God, they promise health, wealth, vitality, etc. if one will just follow this or that particular prayer formula.

I’ve certainly had my ups and downs with prayer. I remember the young father of 2 little boys in our community group, diagnosed with cancer. We laid hands on him. Anointed him with oil. We prayed over him, for him. If effort counted for anything he would still be alive. But he died after 6 months. There was nothing the doctors could do … and they did try. Prayer, seemingly, did nothing. But maybe it did. Who knows. Perhaps he lived longer, perhaps he lived easier. Perhaps his wife felt stronger for all of it. I remember my cousin’s child who died after 3 days in intensive care and after my cousin donated part of his liver in an effort to save his dying son. Four churches were praying for the boy and still he died.

I came to learn that God does not call us to pray because we can have control over a situation. It should be obvious to all of us that we do not. There are scientific studies which prove that prayer has a positive effect on people with chronic and terminal illness, but no one knows why. Some things must remain a mystery.

I’ve come to a place where I’m beginning to understand that God has asked us to pray because He wants the pleasure of our company. It’s so simple that it’s mind boggling. He just wants to be in communion with His creation. Sometimes that communion will cause a change in events. Sometimes it will not. Sometimes it will cause a change in us. Sometimes it won’t. Sometimes it will ease our burdens. Sometimes it will cause them to be heavier. But we cannot change outcomes with our words, we can only participate in redemption. There is no magic formula that will change our lives. We cannot do it at a specific time each day or in a specific way and hope that the mere chanting of words will create a cleansed soul within us. We can merely turn ourselves little by little, degree by degree until we are facing in the direction of God and learning to pray and breath at the same time.

My parents and my favorite uncle stopped in for a brief visit yesterday morning. We served brunch and had a lovely chat. I haven’t seen Uncle Ralph since my grandmother’s funeral. Sad, but true.

As breakfast wound down, my father turned to me and said, “So, how do you think the Dems are going to do now that the election is over?” Wow … a real grown up question. I must be a real grown up now.

I think the election was a vindication of Howard Dean’s leadership strategy. This is a strategy that Dean originated in his presidential campaign of 2004. The Democrats have been famous for extremely selectively spending their money. They have been putting all of their eggs in just a few baskets for years. That is, attempting to determine which races they have the most chance of winning and then putting all the money towards those. Howard Dean reversed that trend and leverage the funds by spreading them far and wide. His strategy (which the Republicans have been using for years) is, win by 1%, just win in a lot of places. I’d say it worked.

We went on to talk about the rot in the national system versus the new blood that is now pouring into the state and local systems as a result of this election. It was a grownup conversation with my dad, my uncle and me. I was an adult conversing with two other adults. A baton was passed. A piece of my soul relaxed, flourished and grew in that moment.

Then a surprise and shock. My dad and my uncle dropped a bomb on me. They were unaware it was a bomb. It was information they always knew. I had made assumptions about my grandparents (their parents) based on what I knew of their characters, but they were not Democrats. My beloved grandfather and grandmother were … Republicans. My mind stretched and cobbled and is still trying to bridge the tension between what I know of who they were and how they could have voted for Republicans. My uncle explained it this way, “When I was growing up all the Catholics voted Democrat and all the Protestants voted Republican. We were Protestant, so we were Republican.” He went on to recount the election of Franklin Delano Roosevelt when he was approximately LightBoy’s age. He recalled his parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents sitting around bewailing the communist/socialist tendencies of Roosevelt. That the country was coming to an end and that FDR was the equivalent of Hitler or Mussolini.

I tried to excuse this impolite transgression of my grandfather’s by revising the Republican history of the 20th century. Not so, my father reminded me. The Republicans of early to mid-century were happy to do business with the Nazi party in Germany, or the party in power in Italy (if I were a better historian I’d remember the name). What I can not come to terms with is how my grandfather, a stalwart union (Teamster) organizer and supporter, came to terms himself with the policies and politics of the Republican party … which was and is staunchly anti-union? And so, the mystery remains. It would seem that no one ever particularly talked politics with Grampy and I was never old enough.

I attended my first ever football game last night. Yes, you read correctly. I have reached the middle of my years and never attended that most American of traditions … a football game. My highschool did not have a football team. We had basketball. And hockey. I think they have a football team now, but there is far more emphasis on soccer and cross-country running. We have a long-standing battle for the state championship cross-country running with LightHusband’s alma mater which dates back to when we were both in high school and he was running on their team. Yes, Vermont is a small state.

Football is quite a sub-culture. Interesting. I went because a good friend has two boys in the marching band. One of them is a senior and this was his last home game. She really wanted FlamingEwe and I to see them play. As it turned out they had a nice little ceremony honoring the seniors and their parents. It was well done and sweet.

In a moment of serendipity I also was treated to seeing some 20+ year friends who were there. One was my dear friend who had been the matron of honor in my wedding. We’ve fallen out of contact over the years because we’ve gotten so busy. So we had a few moments to catch up and trade contact information (and put it in our cell phones where we won’t lose it!!). She was there to see her sister’s son perform; the son is also a senior. I also know her sister very well as she married a man who was good friend’s with LightHusband from his days in The Old Guard Fife & Drum Corps. We were all good friends, quite the ratpack if you will. There were others too. MatronofHonor, PianoMan (her husband), DrumMajor, SkinnyFifer (Matron’s sister and DrumMajor’s wife), DrumsTooHard, and the list is long. We all ran together.

A moment came when the parents of all the seniors were asked to come down onto the field for the little ceremony. I looked across and saw DrumMajor rise from his seat in the bleachers. It’s important to this story that you know that he’s about 6’7″ … very tall. He’s my age, well older by a few months. And suddenly my dear friend looked old. His shoulders had a slight stoop to them. His hair is definitely more white now than anything. He didn’t move so smoothly at first. As he progressed he stood straighter and moved better, but those first few moments didn’t go so well.

At the same time, the cheerleaders were down on the field turning handsprings. And backflips. We called them backhandsprings when I was on the gymnastics team several hundred million years ago.

In my mind, I still know exactly how to do a backflip. Or a handspring. Or how to run up to the sidehorse and vault over it, flying for just a moment. In my mind’s eye, I can even bring on the sensation of those movements. But my body, ah well, my body would stage a mutiny at the first sign of an attempt. I understand that there are ways to get back into better shape, but as I watched DrumMajor progress down the bleachers last night, I really faced myself for a moment. It was hard. I wasn’t quite fearless. I don’t think I’ll ever do backflips again or sidehorse vaulting. Not that I’d want to necessarily, but I finally reached the moment when I admitted that I won’t. I can’t. It’s just not important.

There are some blogs I follow that I really like. Most of them may be found in my sidebar, but some of them I haven’t gotten around to adding just yet. I have to confess that I agree with almost all of them. I know that it’s good discipline to read those one does not always agree with. However, I found that it was not entirely healthy for me when I fell off my cliff earlier this year. I still read the occasional blowhard, but it’s not redemptive and causes my bloodpressure to rise so I don’t really see the point.

A blog that I read and agree with on most occasions is Willzhead, written by Will Sampson. I like his politics and his theology. But this morning he wrote something that I finally and sadly had to disagree with. I wished with all of my heart that I could agree with it, because you see, Will has hope. And I do not.

It may be that Will has hope because of where he lives. Or maybe I don’t because of where I live. Where I live people continued to vote yesterday in their same old ruts. Yes, it is entirely possible that Jim Webb will replace George Allen as our US Senator. But the fact that this race is so close makes my blood boil. It is 2006 … how can it be that so very many people will vote for a man who will call those different from him a monkey in public? If he is so willing to show disdain that easily, do they think he will not turn it on them?

Then as I trolled through the results this afternoon, I found this horrifying election result from Florida. In Florida’s 16th Congressional District 48% of the electorate voted FOR Mark Foley. The scandal surrounding his inappropriate behavior broke too late to remove his name from the ballot. The man RESIGNED from his position in Congress. Yet 110,317 people voted for him. Have they gone mad? The Democratic candidate only got 49% of the vote.

I think the primary source of my discomfort was the ease with which the Marriage Amendment passed here in Virginia.  I’m still struggling with this.  I have a hard time with the amount of money and effort that was spent defending an idea against a somewhat what specious reality, when that time and money might have been spent defending real people against a very harsh reality.  But perhaps that’s really the issue.  It’s much easier (in the long run) to rail against or for an idea than it is to get one’s hands dirty helping real flesh and blood people.  People are so darn inconvenient and they cost so much.  It’s easier, grander, more romantic and fabulous to pass a marriage amendment that protects almost no one against an enemy who does not exist, than it is to set captives free, restore sight to the blind, or bring water to the thirsty and bread to the hungry.  Or … something like that.

I hope, tho, in the long run that Will is right and I am not.

My parents are visiting Florida this week. They are visiting my father’s brother. In fact, all of my father’s siblings have gathered at his brother’s home this week. My uncle has chronic emphysema. Earlier this year he had a terrible case of pneumonia that became intractable. More recently it seems that the doctors have discovered that the intractable pneumonia may actually be lung cancer. So this trip may be the last time ever that the sibs are together in this world. This unspoken reality has leant a certain poignancy to the reports my mother has been sending to my brothers and I. I love my aunts and uncles and parents. As a child and young adult, they were the trellis around which the vine of my life wound. It makes me happy in a deep down satisfied kind of way that they are all together and enjoying each other so much. The latest report, however, was hilarious! I include it here as a peek behind the curtain … exposure to the origins of my font of blessings as it were.

Well. Here I am in Florida with the Naylor clan – let me describe the folks who will be together for the next few days 😉

#1 – 87 – slightly deaf despite hearing aids, glaucoma, macular degeneration, bad knee, not so good feet, some difficulty walking, and uses a cane – some short term memory lapses – Democrat

#2- 84 – very deaf and refuses to buy hearing aids, on oxygen due to severe emphysema and lung infections, tires after a few steps – listens to Fox news 24/7 – finishes all punch lines whether he’s ever heard the story or not – very poor short term memory – right-wing GOP

#3 – 83 – hearing only slightly diminished – bad, bad knee – bad, bad feet – much difficulty walking and refuses to use a cane – blind in one eye – easy going – good memory – Democrat

#4 – 78 – some eyesight impairment – some unsteadiness – goes with the flow -good memory – probably GOP since lives in the house with 24/7 Fox News

#5 – 74 – hearing aids provide adequate hearing under most circumstances – sometimes misses important info in a conversation – no other physical handicaps except unwilling to drive in unfamiliar congested areas – Independent

#6 – 73 – works part time – no physical handicaps – sometimes flaky – Democrat

#7 – 67 – misses a few words here and there – no physical handicaps – drives through all the congested and route changing miles – keeper of maps, tickets and other important documents, must be the memory for all the above without being obvious – taxi service -due to hearing problems and lack of attention by all the others, must listen to innumerable repetitions of essentially useless information – Independent

We all got together last evening and had a wonderful time-SO for #3 had unwittingly ‘let the cat out of the bag’ Thursday evening by calling #2 and asking for #3. So he knew that part before we arrived – but he didn’t know #6 was coming. #2’s son happened to be here also, so he got to see the five siblings at their ‘best’!
This journey will definitely be the hardest job I’ll ever love.

Update #1 – Sunday – This is like herding cats!

Update #2 – Tuesday – A quick note to tell you all that the black mass in #2’s lung is NOT cancer – it is more of the fungus – now they have a sample they can culture it and hopefully get a more specific med to cure it.  He and Wife were noticeably more up when they got that news yesterday.

Ted Haggard, president of the National Association of Evangelicals and Senior Pastor at New Life Church in Colorado Springs, CO, has been the latest domino to fall. It’s alleged that he’s been having an affair, bought and paid for, with a man for about three years under an assumed name. He’s admitted to having purchased (but not consumed) methamphetamines with this man.

Here are the things I find interesting about this. The first is that until late in the day yesterday, many articles did not give the male escort/prostitute a name. He had a name and I’m sure it was known since he came out in a radio broadcast on Wednesday. But the news articles did not use this name for quite some time.

The second is the startling similarities between Pastor Haggard’s response to the allegations that he used methamphetamines (i.e. he bought them, but never used them) and President Clinton’s response to allegations that he used marijuana (i.e. he smoked it, but never inhaled). President Clinton’s response has been the butt of jokes and fodder for hate and fear for many years. It will be interesting to see how the evangelical community responds to Pastor Haggard’s claims.

I feel very badly for Pastor Haggard. If the allegations are true (and it appears that they may be), his body has been saying one thing, but his mind has been saying something else. He cannot be true to one without being false to the other. He has been living with his feet in two worlds. He has been caught in a bind for many years. On the other hand, if the allegations are false, he and his family have been put in a terrible position. Either way, here is a family in a terrible crisis and pain. I sincerely pray God’s peace, comfort and grace in their midst as they walk through this valley of shadow.

I can see people in both camps lining up, preparing their slings and arrows. Preparing their armaments to defend their virtue and honor. The reality is that we have all failed. Whether or not Pastor Haggard actually did anything is really beside the point anymore. The fact that so many are willing to believe that he did means that we have failed. The fact that so many are willing to believe that he didn’t without any evidence means that we have failed. The fact that the church has done so little to protect and nurture its leaders means that the church has failed and failed catastrophically. This incident points to a catatonic failure in our culture on many levels. The fact that so many on both sides of the issue are counting coups and waiting for the votes to fall their way because of it, frankly sickens me.

For me, of course, it’s the church that is of great concern.  Not simply the New Life Church that Pastor Haggard led, not just the National Association of Evangelicals, but the church worldwide, the Body of Christ if you will.  It seems to me, that not only has the church failed in allowing this to happen but it might even be said that we set Pastor Haggard up for this.  The institutional church in north America is structured in such a way that the leaders must fractured lives of perfection in front of their flocks.  Smiling, straight teeth, combed hair, suits, wives either in the choir or gazing adoringly from the first row of pews with children lined up in a row.  The sermon must be neither too short nor too long or his livelihood will be cut short.  Everyone must be kept happy.  Suddenly it is not the paradoxes of the Gospel which must be held in tension, but the desires of Mrs. Snooty-nose and Mr. Grabby-fingers.  The leaders above him in his denomination are preaching a straight-jacket theology of graceless adherence to codes of conduct rather than the Law of Love.  The wonder is not that this happened to Pastor Haggard, but that it doesn’t happen more often.

We need to be able to come to a place in our society where we are able to love the people we disagree with. Where we do not objectify or feel threatened by those who do things that make us feel uncomfortable. I wonder how things might have been different for Pastor Haggard or someone else in a similar position if we didn’t just condemn and throw stones at wrongdoers. Despite the fact that we’ve done away with physical stoning, we still manage to do terrible damage to people with metaphorical stones and I think back to the story in the Bible of the woman caught in prostitution who was brought before Jesus for proper judgment, condemnation and punishment (stoning). He sank to the ground and began writing in the sand with his finger. Then he said, “He who is without sin may cast the first stone.” When everyone had left the square (except the woman) he turned to her and said, “What? is no one left to condemn you? Then I won’t condemn you either. Go and sin no more.”

About a month, or maybe more, ago I got me a personalized Google account. It didn’t change much about my life. I know I now have access to g-mail and a whole bunch of fantastic other things that I can wait to find out about. One thing that I have taken advantage of is that I have a personalized Google home page in my browser window. This has also not changed much in my life. Except that I now occassionally read a news item or two that catches my eye.

This article on duct tape caught my eye yesterday. It’s a fairly shocking story about a woman who has been charged with child abuse. Apparently she left her two small children at home alone while she went to work. In order to keep them safe, she duct taped them together and perhaps to some large piece of furniture (?). The article says that she was serving in the Navy at the time. There isn’t much information in the article.

I don’t know much, if anything, about the woman in the article.  But her story got me thinking.  I wonder what pushed her to the point of thinking that leaving children duct-taped in a room was a feasible alternative?  Surely she was under some sort of pressure.  That was not rational.

Unless you’ve been living in a cave for the past month, you’re aware that we’re in the midst of a hotly contested mid-term political campaign.  I’ve heard many people say that the “life” (i.e. abortion) issue is a litmus test for them.  I have to wonder tho.  If we force women to have their babies, what is our responsibility for helping to care for the children?  If Ms. Vincent is convicted and spends time in prison, who will care for her children then?  Indeed, who is caring for them now?  Does she continue to have custody of them?  I wonder all of this as I watch an acquaintance who is homeless with two children.  She is working; a supervisor at a department store.  She is the process of getting Section 8 housing approval.  At the moment, if she has to work while her children are not in school she has some built in help with her children.  But I’m wondering what is going to happen when she is living on her own in her house.  How is she going to arrange/afford childcare on weekends when she has to work?  She can’t afford to live on her own and support her children without this job, but she can’t afford to have the job because of the childcare considerations.  She is caught in a terrible catch-22.  She is not alone.  There are millions of women in her situation or a situation with similar circumstances.  We require these women to work, but the only jobs available are those which require them to work when their children need expensive care.  So what are they to do?  What is a pro-life position in this situation?  I have to wonder …