I saw an article about financing for college

Context
The Shreveport Times runs "The Color of Money" by Washington Post columnist Michelle Singletary. Today's column was about financing for college and contained excerpts from a conversation with Joseph Hurley, author of The Best Way to Save for College: A Complete Guide to 529 Plans and publisher of the savingforcollege.com website.

This was one of the questions Singletary asked: "When applying or need-based financial aid, I know that institutions look at both parental and child resources. Do you know whether a 529 savings account would count against a family? It seems like a disincentive. The families who don't save will ultimately get more (free) need-based aid as they have no savings and are needier."

I read this column in today's paper edition of The Times, but I couldn't find it on the website. I found it at washingtonpost.com, but it requires registration, and since I refuse to do that, I certainly won't recommend it to you.

Commentary
I didn't read the response to Singletary's question, because I was too floored by the question itself. Also, I finished college long ago and have no children. Anyway, here's how I read the question: "should people who can afford to save for college neglect to do so in order to be in a better position to compete with people who are unable to save for college for the limited resource that is government aid?" Shorter version: "what exactly do people need to do to ensure that they 'get theirs' from the government?"

I don't want to single (hee!) Singletary out for my incredulity here. Lots of financial journalists write about similar issues: how can I keep Medicare from taking my home when I go into a nursing home; how do I provide my grandchildren with an inheritance that won't count against their SSDI (full disclosure: members of my family have taken advantage of that one); etc. It has become commonplace for us to think of programs that were originally developed as safety nets as being entitlements. We paid into these funds with our taxes, the reasoning goes, we should be able to take what we want from them. Or sometimes just, "they exist, so we should be able to take what we want from them."

Peter G. Peterson has a lot of interesting things to say about how we came to this state of affairs in his book Running on Empty. In it, he lays blame pretty equally on both liberals and conservatives, but Democrats are singled out for believing that social programs that both exist on a need-based basis are not politically viable because nobody will support government aid they don't personally benefit from. From my perspective, they're wrong. I believe self-sufficiency is its own reward. I remember when I first started working after graduating from college, I used to have so much fun paying my bills. "Woo-hoo! I earned this money, now I can pay for my own air conditioning!" I lived in Houston; air conditioning was far and away my biggest expense. I won't say that I'm still that enthusiastic; twenty years of paying your own way calms one down a bit.

The attitude Singletary is inquiring about (I won't claim she has it herself) brings to mind my favorite parable: the one about the workers being hired to work the field throughout the day (Matthew 20:1-15). When I teach kids about this parable I tell them there's something else going on besides God rewarding whom He chooses. The people who start working in the field early, i.e. the people who don't wait until they're about to die to serve God, get an extra reward: they get to serve God longer! People who can afford to save for college tuition for their children get a reward that's far better than free money: they get to put their children through college! What could be a better fulfillment of the American dream than that?

Please understand, generally-available government services are another story. I think everybody should use their public libraries, schools and roads. And if we had a tax system that supported universal higher education, public nursing homes, and single-payer health care, I would expect everyone to take advantage of those as well, because they would be designed for everyone's use. But need-based financial aid for college should be just that: need-based. If you don't need it, you shouldn't be thinking about how you can take advantage of it anyway.

What did you see today?

I heard someone talk about competition

Context
I teach high school Sunday School at my husband's church. Frequently I'll have no students, so I'll spend the time talking with other members of the church. Today, as we were discussing the war in Iraq, one of them said something like this: "I don't really know the differences between Sunnis and Shi'ites, but I know the main problem is they don't want to be equal. They each want us to take their side."

Commentary
As is true of most of the people at First Lutheran, the man I was talking to is both older and more conservative than me. However, in this particular case I agreed with him. I told him, "I think you're right, but that's true of everybody. Everybody wants to be ahead of everyone else."

I think that competitiveness is both normal and healthy. I think that makes me unusual among pacifists, because there's a tendency to think that competition leads to strife, and that's what we're trying to avoid. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but I believe there are ways to be competitive without being violent toward your fellow human being. I'm going to use some examples from the National Football League to illustrate my point, because that's the competition I'm paying the most attention to as we head into the conference championships.

One problem with competitiveness that seems to prey especially on the minds of parents of small children is the possibility that being defeated in a contest will damage one's self-esteeem. I think this happens when we expand our analysis of a competition's outcome beyond reasonable limits.

For example, this is a true statement: "The New England Patriots defeated the San Diego Chargers in a divisional playoff game last week."

This one might be true as well: "Over a span of 60 minutes last week, the New England Patriots were a better football team than the San Diego Chargers."

However, none of these are true:

1) "The New England Patriots are morally superior to the San Diego Chargers."
2) "Each individual member of the New England Patriots is more manly than each individual member of the San Diego Chargers."

or even
3) "The New England Patriots will always beat the San Diego Chargers every time they play."

Each win or loss in a competitive event is related to that event only and should not be treated as giving insight into other aspect of life. No little girl should ever be led to think that if a ball gets past her into a soccer net that it means she'll never have any success at anything. For that matter no 26-year-old quarterback should feel that way either.

OK, that's how we keep competition from being negative, how do we make it positive? Well, the narrow focus can also be beneficial in our search for identity, something psychologists tell us starts in adolescence, but I think stays with us as long as we grow as people. In fact, this is a context where, although winning is great, losing may provide more valuable lessons.

For example, at Indiana University, Antwaan Randle El was a quarterback. However, in the NFL he lost that competition to guys who were, quite frankly, better quarterbacks. Now he's not only one of the best receivers in the NFL, but occasionally scares defenses to death with the prospect that he'll drop back and throw the ball instead of catching it. So let's review:

True statement: Antwaan Randle El is not as good at the quarterback positions as some other guys are.

False statements: "Antwaan Randle El can't play professional football." "Antwaan Randle El can't scare the defense." Or even, "Antwaan Randle El will never throw a pass in the NFL," because he's already thrown several.

Antwaan Randle El's identity, at least at his day job, is defined differently from what he might have expected. But it's still a great identity, and it's all his because very few people pose the same multiple threat he does. Competition can do that for you, whittle down the "what you're good at, what you're not good at, what you can learn more about, what you'd just as soon not bother with" stuff until you're the perfect little sculpture God meant you to be.

So go out there and compete! Celebrate your wins, learn from your losses, and remember that the bigger picture is both big and constantly changing.

What did you see today?

I heard someone talk about identity theft

Context
I was at a shoe store today. The cashier talked for a long time both to the customers before me and to me when my turn came about identity theft schemes she had heard about or experienced and ways to protect oneself against them. The couple ahead of me seemed interested in the topic, but I wasn't. I also wasn't all that enthralled with the education about the dangers of Irish Travelers I received from my in-laws last week.

Commentary
If I'm competely honest, I'll have to say my reaction to these conversations went beyond disinterest to irritation. Taking a first pass at the reason why, I would say that they seemed to focus a lot on building up fear, which I know is the enemy of love.

Digging a little deeper, I feel like these types of conversations reflect an inappropriate attitude toward crime. The reasoning seems to go like this, "people are going to do wrong, so the only thing you can do is develop progressively more complex ways to thwart them." I guess I can see the merits of prevention as opposed to recovery, but I don't understand why the onus is on me. Why do I have to change my behavior because of crime? Shouldn't the emphasis be on changing criminal behavior?

Worse yet, I feel this leads to a bizarre type of "blaming the victim" behavior. There's a man I work with who was robbed by a stranger he had given a ride to. When he and others tell the story, my co-worker's actions are often presented as stupid. No, my co-worker was kind. Thinking that you can repay a kindness with evil and God won't notice is stupid.

Don't get me wrong. I lock both my house and my car and feel more secure now that I live with a big dog. But I also know this: every moment we spend protecting ourselves from bad things another person might do is lost for any other purpose. Are we allowing our fear of identity theft steal time from something much more valuable?

What did you see today?

I saw someone staring into space

Context
I love to walk, both in order to get somewhere and just to wander around. Because I live in a small city in the South, I am accustomed to verbally greeting strangers that I meet in the street. Today I passed two African-American people at once and considered saying, "hey," but one of them was looking down and one was staring into space, so I just smiled and walked on.

Commentary
I didn't greet the two people because they seemed to be preoccupied, and I know I hate being interrupted when I'm doing something, even if the "something" is just engaging in deep thought. In other words, I'm obeying the Golden Rule as stated in Matthew 7:12, "do to others as you would have them do to you." And yet, I find myself disappointed in my actions.

First off, I'm struck by the fact that people have different values and personalities, so what I would have someone do might not be what another person wants. What if the person I passed was staring into space because she was too shy or scared to catch the eye of a stranger? I have boldness to spare, so if she wanted I could have picked up the slack by saying hello.

What worries me more is that sometimes what I would have people do is pathological. For example, to not acknowledge the existence of a fellow human being because I'm deep in thought about what to wear tomorrow indicates misplaced priorities. If someone indulges me in this, that person is enabling my sin, right?

I think there's a more applicable phrasing of the Golden Rule in Matthew, this one in chapter 22, verse 39: "you shall love your neighbor as yourself." This seems to be a more global statement. "Do unto others" has the feel of "examine the specific situation, do what you would want done to you, move on." "Love your neighbor" acknowledges what every parent (including our Heavenly Father) knows: sometimes what a person would have you do in a specfic situation can be short-sighted and harmful.

I think love sometimes has to look beyond the immediate situation and try to see what would truly be best for everyone involved. When two strangers give each other a friendly greeting, especially when they belong to different races, that can build community. I'm not saying that's necessarily the most important thing in the world, but I'm saying it's worth taking a little extra effort, a little extra love to explore. Heck, maybe I could have even started a conversation and found out what the lady I met was thinking so deeply about.

What did you see today?

I saw an article about someone's anger

Context
I came upon this column at the Fox News website today. I believe I’ve heard of Mike Straka, but I hadn’t seen this Grrr! column before, where it appears he regularly writes about things that annoy him. In this case, people who urinate in inappropriate places.

Commentary
Public urination doesn’t anger me; it saddens me. I feel sorry for people who are that poorly socialized. I find this happens frequently; situations that really piss (hee!) some people off just look pitiable to me.

I was kind of hoping my response could be considered the morally superior one. Anger can be quite sinful after all, especially if it’s the self-righteous kind of anger that says, “I would never pee in a public place; why can’t everybody be more like me?” On the other hand, zeal for true righteousness gets its own beatitude, so there’s a blessing available for the person who fights against the lack of respect for rules and property and the rights of other people.

What about my feelings of sadness, then? Well, that’s compassion, so it’s a great moral choice, right? Maybe, but if I’m honest with myself, I know that sometimes I’m being not so much compassionate as resigned, believing that nothing can be done to remedy a bad situation and that’s a shame. Or worse, I jump right to, “I don’t need to try to do anything to fix the problem I see; I’m busy being sad about it.” Depression can have just as many self-indulgent elements as anger.

So self-centeredness becomes the problem with both emotions, and in fact, all emotions. Any time joy, sorrow, anger, sexual desire, or whatever is focused on the self, it becomes a vicious, ultimately pointless thing. When an emotion proceeds from one’s love for God, it’s transformed into a powerful weapon for good. It's not so much what you feel as who you feel for.

What did you see today?

I saw a description of Bin Laden's fatwa

Context
I’m reading the 9/11 Commission Report. There's a link here, but I'm reading the hard copy Official Government Edition. Chapter 2 starts with a description of the “fatwa” (more about those quotation marks later) issued by Osama Bin Laden and four other men in 1998. In essence it said, “it is the duty of every Muslim to kill every American they can whenever they can.”

Commentary
First, the quotation marks. The 9/11 Commission Report states: “A fatwa is normally an interpretation of Islamic law by a respected Islamic authority.” So the Islamic equivalent of a Talmudic writing or a papal bull, I guess. Even his most ardent supporters would probably put Bin Laden in more of the “soldier” than “scholar” category, so the quotation marks represent my skepticism that he has much authority to offer interpretations of Islamic law. In fact, I imagine that the average Muslim, if she/he heard about this obligation to kill Americans before 9/11, probably said to her/himself, “yeah, ok, whatever you say, oh crazy person.”

There are people who fault Muslims for this, saying they need to be quicker to distance themselves from extremists. Why? I don’t feel a strong obligation to distance myself from the Phelps family. I just assume people understand the difference between being a traditional Christian and being, well, a member of the Phelps family.

I worry a little, though. Perhaps those of us with moderate viewpoints (now there’s a word I never thought I’d use to describe myself!) spend a little too much time gaping in astonishment at the Bin Ladens and Fred Phelps’ of this world, and not enough time saying, “there really is another viewpoint.” People who never tire of speaking out are a perfect match for the news media, who need a constant flow of stuff to report. So if one measures by sheer volume of coverage, inflammatory opinions might end up looking like the voice of the mainstream.

So for the record, God doesn’t hate anybody, Osama Bin Laden has no authority to interpret Islamic law, and my husband is empowered to make medical decisions for me if I’m unable to do so. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.

What did you see today?

I saw some impressive church buildings

Context
I live in a lower-middle-class neighborhood that is right next to an upper-middle-class neighborhood. Today while I was waiting for the bus, I noticed people doing work on a very nice, very large Christian (Disciples of Christ) church building. I then looked at the spire of a very nice, very large Episcopalian church building that is less than two blocks away.

Commentary
I think the most impressive thing about the two church buildings I was looking at today was not their beauty or their size, but the sense of permanence about them. I drive through the poorer parts of Shreveport on a regular basis, and church buildings in these areas tend to be numerous, tiny, and impermanent looking. In reality, they often are “here today, gone tomorrow” kinds of operations.

It’s possible this means people in these less prosperous neighborhoods do not commit to their church, but just skip around looking for the most palatable message. Jesus illustrates this kind of behavior when He talks about the seeds that fall on rocky ground and have no root. The big impressive churches close to my home look like they have some roots, some endurance.

But in the very next verse in Matthew, Jesus talks about seeds sown among thorns as representing those that get choked by the cares of this world. Sometimes when you’re in a nice, permanent church building, other things get in the way of your passion for the Gospel, like making sure your building stays nice and your status quo stays permanent. Perhaps people in the poorer areas are smart enough to tear down and start over at the first sign of these thorns that will choke off their faith.

Or maybe I’m reading too much into the differences in buildings. They’re just edifices, after all. But I wonder if the inhabitants of each type might have something to teach each other.

What did you see today?

I saw an e-mail about death

Context
I belong to an e-mail list called Fiction-L, which covers reader’s advisory issues. A discussion of “books so good you read them over and over again” led to an exchange between a colleague and me regarding Charlotte’s Web. Some snippets follow:

Colleague - People who don't cry at the end of Charlotte's Web worry me. They are the same people who don't cry when Bambi's mother dies.

Me - Them's fighting words, [name omitted]! Charlotte dies in the natural course of nature, which is a little sad, but in more of a "sighing" than "crying" way. Bambi's mother is brutally murdered by stupid human beings! I not only cry; I tend to leave the room so I can pound my fists on something!

Colleague - They're both tragedies--since when is the loss of a friend to natural death any less painful than one to murder? In either case they are gone, and they aren't coming back. Death is no less final for being natural.


Commentary
I was surprised that my reaction to death was so different from my colleague’s, so I’m trying to figure out where the difference comes from. Is it because I don’t believe death is “final” for anyone? Yes, I’m not only a Christian, with the Pauline view of our demise, but a person who thinks that All Dogs go to Heaven. It scarcely seems worth calling it “heaven” if there won’t be critters there.

That can’t be the only reason for the way I feel though, because then I would have the mirror image of my colleague’s opinion: murder is an equal cause for celebration as succumbing to natural causes.

So why are the circumstances surrounding death important? I think it’s because I also hold the “other” Christian viewpoint on mortality: that it infects all of creation because of human sin. We were made the stewards of Earth, so everything on it suffers the same fate we do. So let’s recap: it’s our fault that animals die in the first place, and in Bambi’s mother’s case, we hasten the process along by setting fire to her habitat.

I think the last piece of the puzzle is this: I’m much more likely to cry about things that make me angry than those that make me sad.

What did you see today?

I saw an article about Nancy Grace

Context
The Shreveport Times had an article on Nancy Grace in the Living section this morning. I had never heard of this woman before, possibly because the only television news I watch is the Daily Show and that not regularly. The gist of the article is that the suicide of her prime suspect has not lessened Ms. Grace’s zeal for pursuing the case of a missing child.

Commentary
The article in question does not appear on the Times website, so if you want to read it for yourself, you'll have to do it the old-fashioned way.

I had a number of initial reactions to this article. The one that stuck with me was this: why is a prosecutor working for CNN instead of the courts? I think the answer emerges in Ms. Grace’s statement quoted in the fourth paragraph: “I remain dedicated to the ongoing fight for crime victims everywhere.” It’s possible that she got frustrated when she found out that in the United States, prosecutors are not supposed to be advocates for crime victims. That’s because in this country, we treat crime as an offense against society, not an individual person.

Think about it. A criminal trial is titled The State of Whatever vs. Whomever. It is often the case that district attorneys disregard the opinion of the crime victim when deciding whether or not to prosecute a case. Victims have no intrinsic right to be heard in a criminal trial, but if either side thinks their testimony will be useful, they can be compelled to appear against their will.

The paragraph above may lead you to think I’m opposed to the American judicial system. Quite the contrary, I’m its biggest fan, because I subscribe to the premise above: crime is an offense against society. Obviously rape damages a woman or man, but it also damages the threads that hold us together.

Nancy Grace and I are probably in complete agreement on the previous point, but the American judicial system says that persecuting people without due process also damages society. That’s why we have an adversarial criminal justice system. The prosecutor’s job is to speak for the “we have to punish criminals” societal interest and the defense attorney presents the interest in considering exonerating evidence and mitigating circumstances. Both of them are, therefore, “officers of the court.” Society, as represented by a jury, ideally decides which interest is more compelling in this particular case.

Nancy Grace circumvents this system. She’s an advocate for victims, so her job is to slam the people she considers to be perpetrators. OK, it’s only television, not an actual judicial proceeding, but am I the only one who thinks that suicide indicates there might be more than one victim here? Does our society have any interest we might possibly want to consider before unleashing a Nancy Grace on the world and calling it “entertainment?”

What did you see today?

I saw a mistake I had made

Context
I was going to rant today about a page on the American Library Association website. When I went to pull a quote from the page, I realized that I had read it wrong and it was not rantworthy.

Commentary
Nope, I’m not going to tell you what the page was or what mistake I made, because it’s embarrassing. What I am going to say is that this blog has taught me something about my reactions. I’ll be going along, putting together a self-righteous crusade against something I’ve seen or heard, only to realize that what I thought I saw wasn’t really there.

Publishing my thoughts, whether anyone reads them or not, forces me to examine their underpinnings and take more careful steps instead of jumping to conclusions. I wonder what would happen if I treated all of my responses to stimuli as if they might be on public display?

What did you really see today?

I saw a flyer I was not interested in

Context
Towards the end of my lunch hour today, a man approached me and tried to hand me a flyer. I asked what it was, and he said it would help me figure out if I was going to heaven after I die. I said, "interesting," and walked on without taking the flyer.

Commentary
One of my favorite characters from the Sylvia comic strip, is The Woman who Does Everything More Beautifully than You. I think she's supposed to be a send-up of Martha Stewart, but she actually reminds me a lot of myself. Those of you who have seen my home or my artwork are excused to go explode with laughter.

Now then, what I mean is that when I set out to do things, I'm very detail oriented. I used to work at the Oakland SPCA, which has now been incorporated into the East Bay SPCA. Cleaning kennels used to take me hours longer than everyone else, because I did every step exactly the way I was told, covered every surface with disinfectant, dried thoroughly, and never, ever took shortcuts. I really believe that there’s no point in doing something if you’re not going to do it right. I don’t think I have an obsessive-compulsive disorder, because I don’t feel compelled to do things this way; I just like it.

It can lead to problems, though. Have you heard of the “tyranny of the urgent?” I’m more dominated by the “tyranny of the plan,” as in, I am taking these steps now; don’t try to interrupt me with something else. Which brings me to the gentleman with the flyer. I was on my lunch hour. I had no urgent duties keeping me from engaging with him and building a relationship. But here’s what went through my head: “I’ve bought this sympathy card; I need to write a message in it and look up my co-workers address so I can mail it to her; talking with this guy would be a waste of my very well-planned-out time.” Which was silly. I missed a one-time-opportunity to show love to my brother in Christ in order to accomplish a task I could have done at any number of other times.

What did you see today?

I heard a Jackson Browne song

Context
I heard the Jackson Browne song “Doctor, My Eyes” on the radio today. These are the lyrics:

Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
And the slow parade of tears
Without crying.
Now I want to understand.
‘Cause I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good
Without hiding.
You must help me if you can!

Doctor, my eyes!
Tell me what is wrong.
Was I unwise
To leave them open for so long?

‘Cause I have wandered through this world.
As each moment has unfurled
I’ve been waiting
To awaken from these dreams.
People go just where they will.
I never noticed them until
I got this feeling
That it’s later than it seems.

Doctor, my eyes!
Tell me what you see.
I hear their cries.
Just say if it’s too late for me.

Doctor, my eyes
Cannot see the sky.
Is this the price
For having learned how not to cry?

Copyright Jackson Browne, 1971. Used by permission.

If you've never heard the song, you can find an mp3 on this webpage.

Commentary
I like Jackson Browne in general, but this is by far my favorite of his songs. At the beginning this guy narrates his attempt to be an unbiased observer of everything and, in the first chorus, expresses his concern that he’s injured himself by seeing too much. Later, the listener realizes that the protagonist may be looking at everything, but not really seeing a great deal of it (how is possible to be this great observer, but “never notice” the people?). And finally, one gets the impression that the injury was not caused by being an observer, but by trying to stay “unbiased” while actual hurt is going on in the world.

This is not only another one of these “I heard” instead of “I saw” entries, but the first one in over a month! I don’t think about this blog every day, but when it has come to mind lately, I’ve thought, “I haven’t really seen anything.” I could be tempted to wonder if I’m suffering from the same eye condition Jackson Browne describes. Have I been trying so hard to stay unbiased that I’m no longer able to see anything? Or worse, has God decided that there’s no sense in showing me anything if I won’t do anything about it?

The temptation is there, but in the end I know a couple of things:

1) Every day is a gift and an opportunity to serve the Lord. Maybe this is a time of more resting than seeing.

2) God is stubborn. If He wants me to see stuff, He’s going to keep showing it to me until I respond correctly. To paraphrase “Alice’s Restaurant,” another favorite song, “He’s not proud. Or tired.”

What did you see today?

I saw the consequences of an oft-repeated mistake

Context
I have a variety of job duties at Shreve Memorial Library, which is not unusual for my profession. One of these is administrating our integrated library system. Another is training staff members on how to use it. Today I was informed that someone made a mistake on the system last Wednesday. The person who notified me stated in her e-mail that “everyone claims innocence,” but further pressing revealed that it was probably a third party who has made this error many times before. It’s possible that the only reason I was told about it was because the mistake in question requires my intervention before anyone at that particular branch can perform the same task. The fix took about 30 seconds, but because I’ve been on vacation, what should be a daily task at that branch has been left undone for five days. It took considerably longer than 30 seconds to compose an e-mail expressing my ire at this ongoing situation to the mistake-maker’s supervisor (a fourth party!).

Commentary
One of the ladies who attends my Quaker meeting thinks Jesus can’t have been perfect because He got mad at people. I disagree. I definitely think there’s such thing as righteous anger and that mine usually fits the criteria ;-).

Anyway, I hope my e-mail to the supervisor expressed the reason for my anger adequately. It’s a little irritating that the same mistake keeps being made over and over again, but what really burns my butt is not being told about it by the responsible party. Politically, I didn’t feel like I could confront the mistake-maker directly, so I was left to speculate on the reasons why she didn’t tell me about the problem herself. I came up with three:

1) She doesn’t think it’s a big enough problem to bother mentioning. As you can tell by this entry, she’s wrong. It’s a sufficient inconvenience to enough people to require immediate action.

2) She figures I’ll find out eventually from someone. Why should she lay herself on the line? I did find out about this eventually from someone, so she was right about that. On the other hand, she’s still smack in the middle of the situation, not because I want to blame someone, but because of necessity any solution to the problem will involve her.

3) She feels like she’s made this mistake so many times that we’ve used up every possible preventative. She’s wrong about that as well. I’m a professional trainer; I’ve always got another educational trick up my sleeve.

So this whole episode got me thinking about confession. Essentially, what I’m wanting from my coworker is what God wants from us: He wants us to admit that we’ve done wrong. Christians (well, everybody actually, but I know the Christian experience better than any other) have many reasons for not wanting to confess our sins to God. Or at least, three:

1) We don’t think the sin is big enough that we need to confess it. What’s a little lust in your heart as compared to bombing innocent children? The problem is, the sinner almost never has any idea of the magnitude of her sin or the effect it’s going to have on other people. We are all too inclined to let ourselves slide for actions we would find unacceptable in other people. Better to let an outside judge take a look at that error for us, I think.

2) God knows that we sin; it seems pointless to discuss it with Him. People use a similar reason for not offering prayers of petition: God knows what I need. Of course He does! In my experience, prayer of all types is not for the purpose of getting God’s attention. It’s to focus ours. In the case of confession, any twelve-step program will tell you that the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one.

3) We feel like it’s hopeless. We’ve been down the same path so many times before and nothing ever changes. Really? Nothing? In my experience, it’s never actually the same situation twice. Maybe this time I realize a split-second earlier that I’m doing wrong. Maybe this person calls me on it instead of suffering in silence like the last 29 have done. I’m not saying the changes are always pleasant or even appear positive. I am saying that if Lynn the trainer always has a trick up her sleeve, imagine what God must have in that big old white robe or whatever He wears?

What did you see today?

I saw an article in the Texarkana Gazette

Context
I go to Quaker meeting in Texarkana, even though I live in Shreveport. Today someone brought a copy of the Texarkana Gazette to meeting, and it had an article about people protesting a home for recovering drug addicts being planned in their neighborhood. This is a quote from the article: “'I don’t know of anybody who really gets off drugs and they come with all that baggage and we don’t want that around our children,' said Sheila Oates, who lives on Stipp Lane not too far from the location."

Commentary
NIMBY-type protests strike me as the worst possible kind of hypocrisy, because the people involved almost always agree that the activity in question is necessary or even desirable, but they don’t want to have to live near it. They’re not anti-nuclear power; they’re pro-making someone else live with the consequences. I suppose I should be happy that some of the protesters in this case are at least being consistent enough to say they don't see any point in attempting to rehabilitate drug users anywhere.

I'm not happy, though. In fact, I find this case particularly irksome, because of something the members of my meeting keep hammering into my head: “everyone around here is a Christian.” The members of my meeting who are not Christian sometimes feel ostracized and persecuted because they don’t believe “correctly.” Or they just don’t bother to tell people and save themselves the grief. So we have a whole city full of Christians which includes at least one neighborhood where they don’t want to have to be around drug addicts. Interesting.

Now, don’t get me wrong. My Lutheran upbringing makes me a strong believer in “saved by grace through faith alone.” There is no action one can take (or not take) to ensure one’s salvation except believing in the Gospel. But I always hope for myself and my brothers and sisters in Christ that after we’ve been saved we will be of some benefit to the rest of the world. Rejecting people at the very moment when they’re trying to turn their lives around doesn’t seem beneficial to anyone, including the Christian children you’re trying to raise.

I think this is a hazard to being a Christian in the South. When being a Christian is the norm, then “normal” behavior, like shielding your children from people with problems, becomes equated with Christian behavior, so it doesn’t need to be examined or questioned. That’s one of the reasons I’m strongly in favor of the separation of church and state. Once we have a “Christian” government, then everything it does will be, by definition, Christian. Yeah, right.

What did you see today?

I saw my coworker encourage someone to fill out a form

Context

A patron at the Shreve Memorial Library saw us giving a computer class today. When she asked about registration, I handed her this form. She then asked about scheduling, and I told her that we have a months-long waiting list. She said she couldn’t wait that long, so my coworker showed her a self-help program on the computer. Then she encouraged the patron to fill out the form anyway.

Commentary
I am the youngest of four children by quite a bit and, as any of my siblings will gleefully tell you, that means I’m spoiled rotten. I guess they say that because I only do what I want to do. In some ways, this makes me a wretched person. I have almost no sense of obligation, and I get royally hacked off at people who try to make me obliged to them. I’m even suspect of gifts, in case they come with strings attached. Also, when I don’t like the situation I’m in, I tend to bail. Hence my checkered employment history.

However, I think there’s something good about being spoiled rotten. For one thing, I’m not subject to peer pressure at all. Also, in my case at least, it tends to be a global mindset. I want everyone to do what they want. It’s one of the reasons I’m good at customer service, but would be terrible at sales. I don’t try to convince people to do something, I try to make sure they’re able to do what they want. In fact, I sometimes frustrate the people who sign up for computer classes, because they’ll ask, “what should I take?” Ick! “Should” sounds like an obligation! So I ask them right back, “what do you want to learn?”

My coworker’s actions today puzzled me, because her mind went in a direction mine never would have. My way of working is the patron asks us for something she wants, and we let her know if we can provide that. Yes, we have computer classes. No, you can’t take them right away. End of transaction.

My coworker took extra steps, showing the patron the self-help program and talking her into filling out the registration form anyway. I think the former was a case of trying to make our available services fit the patron’s wants, which was absolutely appropriate. The latter, however, shaded into trying to make the patron settle for what we have. It felt like my coworker was saying, “go ahead and sign up to wait for a few months. You said you didn’t want to, but maybe you didn’t really mean it.” I think that’s wrong. I know what I want. I try to spoil everyone else by assuming they do too.

What did you see today?

I saw a movie hero

Context
I saw X-Men 3: The Last Stand yesterday and Mission Impossible 3 today. The first X-men movie is among my all-time favorites, and I think Mission Impossible gets better each episode. Spoilers for both movies abound in the commentary below, so if you haven’t seen either of them and you’re interested in them, you might want to give this entry a bye.

Commentary
I didn’t care much for the latest X-men movie. It wasn’t a total wash, but I had a lot of problems with it. On the other hand, I loved Mission Impossible 3. I think some of my reactions to both movies hinge on what I think of as the “hat theory of heroism and villainy.” The ideas in this theory are not new, but I think the hat colors might be.

Anyway, I think of movies as having two types of villains, black hat and navy blue hat. Black hat villains are just plain evil. They have no redeeming qualities; you know exactly where they’re coming from; they’re bad people and they do bad things. Navy blue hat villains don’t necessarily look like villains at first blush. They sometimes talk a good game, or they have some lofty principle in mind, but after a while you realize that hat is actually pretty black after all. I tend to prefer navy blue villains, although I can admire the acting craft behind a good black one.

The X-Men series of movies has a pretty good navy blue hat villain in Magneto. You can almost believe those crocodile tears he sheds over having to hurt people in pursuit of his noble cause. But in the end, he’s just rotten. That principle remained in place in the The Last Stand, and I liked that. Mission Impossible 3 had an outstanding black hat villain and a somewhat unconvincing navy blue one. Oh well, nothing’s perfect.

Heroes also have two potential hat colors, white and dingy. Your white hat hero believes in something and fights for whatever that thing is without compromise. In fact, he’s pretty anal about it. Your dingy hat hero is usually on the right side of the movie conflict and ends up doing good things, but not because he has any particular lofty ideal in mind. He spends the majority of the time looking out for himself, and if pressed, a small circle of friends.

I think a lot of the best movies have one of each type of hero. For example, in the original Star Wars trilogy, Luke Skywalker has the white hat, and Han Solo (who really did shoot first, no matter how much George Lucas tries to change “history”) has the dingy hat. In the original Battlestar Galactica series, Apollo wears the white hat, while Starbuck wears the dingy. If you’re around my age, I think you can tell a lot about yourself by which of those characters you prefer. I’m a white hat lover myself.

X-Men 3 started off with a white hat and a dingy one, then killed off the white hat in the first few minutes of the film. And no, it wasn’t Professor Xavier. So the film pretty much lost me early. Mission Impossible 3 was much more straightforward: one hero, very white hat, good triumphs over evil in the end.

If it seems odd that I prefer my villains somewhat shaded and my heroes straightforward, perhaps I can muddy the waters even further by saying that I like my villains to be realistic and my heroes to be true. Realistically, I believe (and I think I have plenty of evidence on my side) that people don’t think of themselves as villainous. They put on that navy blue hat and say, “I did what was necessary for the greater good.” “You can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs.” Or my personal favorite, “the ends justify the means.” Not to put too big a burden on my entertainment, but I appreciate seeing this kind of villainy because I think it helps me recognize it better in real life.

On the other hand, I don’t want heroes to reflect what I see every day. I want them to show me there’s something transcendent to strive for. In Christian terms, reality tells me that this world is mired in sin. The ultimate truth, however, is that good always triumphs over evil, and never needs to compromise in order to do so.

What did you see today?

I saw a book about political correctness

Context
Michael Smerconish, a talk-radio host in the Philadelphia area, has written a book titled Muzzled. Shreve Memorial Library owns this book, but it hasn’t been cataloged yet. I read the inside cover and some of the introduction and it appears to be about how “political correctness” is keeping us from expressing important truths. I plan to take a look at the rest of the book when it’s available for check out. I won’t commit to actually reading it, because I’m very picky about what I read.

Commentary
I understand some anti-political correctness sentiment. For example, I don’t think “we might get sued” is a good basis for decision-making. “We might get sued and lose, because what we’re contemplating is illegal” is fine, but frankly, anyone can file a lawsuit. It’s like deciding to not do something because “someone might get angry.” OK, but would they be justified in getting angry? There’s no percentage in indulging crybabies; they can get mad no matter what you do.

Also, I tend to favor equality of opportunity, not equality. I think some people do things better than others. Dolly Parton once said something to the effect of, “I couldn’t jump around like a ballerina. I’d black both my eyes!” There’s nothing wrong with keeping Dolly Parton out of the Metropolitan Ballet. She has other gifts.

On the other hand, I’m often leery of the term “political correctness.” Practices that are labeled as such are often those I was taught to call “niceness,” “sensitivity,” and “convincing the neighbors you were not reared by a pack of dingoes in Australia.” No offense intended to those of you who *were* reared by a pack of dingoes in Australia ;-). The First Amendment says, “you can express yourself, worship, and assemble any way you want.” Good breeding says you shouldn’t even want to insult, belittle or exclude people unnecessarily. So if you’re saying, “I don’t want to have be politically correct,” but you really mean, “I want free license to be rude,” I have no sympathy for you.

For this reason, I’m curious about the use of the title “Muzzled” for this book, rather than “Gagged” or “Silenced.” When my dog is at her vet’s office, she only gets muzzled after she’s raised her lip a time or two and proved she’s not fit for polite company. Is our society being muzzled for the same reason? Have we decided to legislate good manners because no one can practice self-control? If so, I’m pretty sure it’s not working. Have you ever listened to talk radio?

What did you see today?

I saw my sin

Context
Shreve Memorial Library, where I work, held a Staff Development Day yesterday. One of our speakers came to talk with us about the Fish! Philosophy. Fish! has four basic components: play, be there, make their day, and choose your attitude. After I’d been back at work for a little over an hour today, I had a conversation with a coworker that caused me to mentally convert “choose your attitude” into “slam their attitude.” A little while after that, I recognized how wrong, wrong, wrong that was.

Commentary
It is my perception, correct or not, that I have a more sensitive conscience than other people. My sins are like Cole Sear's dead people; I see them all the time. This is one of those traits that some people think must make me unhappy. On the contrary, I consider my conscience a huge blessing from God for a couple of reasons:

1) I’m really, really aware of other people’s sins, too, as you can tell by my comment about this morning. I’m already pretty insufferable about it; imagine if I didn’t see the log in my own eye.

2) I cannot be a Christian without it. People have many different definitions of Christianity, but mine, which probably owes a great deal to my upbringing in the Lutheran Church, is this: it’s the religion that exists because people sin and they need to be saved from it.

I believe in Jesus Christ is the person who saves me from my sin. Having a tender conscience reminds me of my sin and so, perhaps somewhat ironically, reminds me of everything Jesus has done for me. So every time I see myself sinning, I see Jesus. Yay! St. Paul has something to say about whether we should continue sinning so grace can abound, but that’s a topic for another time.

What did you see today?

I saw an article about faith

Context
The American Library Association has a e-mail list that's supposed to relate to intellectual freedom called IFFORUM (archives here). Because it's unmoderated, it often becomes a magnet for all kinds of political commentary. Today someone posted an excerpt from this interview with Sam Harris. There was a great deal of food for thought in the interview, (translation: I could rant about it all day, if you let me), but I was particularly struck by this exchange:

Amazon.com: In other words, you are careful to distinguish between what you term "faith" and "spirituality." In a nutshell, what is this distinction?

Harris: "Faith" is false conviction in unjustified propositions (a certain book was written by God; we will be reunited with our loved ones after death; the Creator of the universe can hear our thoughts, etc.). "Spirituality" or "mysticism" (both words are pretty terrible, but there are no good alternatives in English) refers to any process of introspection by which a person can come to realize that the feeling he calls "I" is a cognitive illusion. The core truth of mysticism is this: It is possible to experience the world without feeling like a separate "self" in the usual sense. Such a change in the character of one's experience need not become the basis for making unsupportable claims about the nature of the universe, however.

Commentary
Let's start with where I agree with Sam Harris: I, too, think there's a difference between "faith" and "spirituality." When I'm at my most cynical, I think faith is when you actually believe in something and spirituality is when you have the vague feeling that you want to/ought to believe in something, but haven't settled on anything in particular.

Thanks to my husband, Mark, I've started thinking about the distinction more rationally. Faith is still when you believe in something, or as the writer of Hebrews would have it, "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." (Hebrews 11:1 NRSV)

Spirituality has more to do with what one believes in. I agree with Harris that it is something separate from the self, but I think he’s too anthrocentric about it, in that he views the transformation of the individual as the important component. I think the most important aspect of spirituality is learning about an entity that is separate from the self. I’ve been taught to call this entity the Holy Spirit.

At this point, Harris would be perfectly justified in crying “foul!” I’ve taken an article in which he defines spirituality as something separate from the most evil aspects of Western religion, and stuck it smack dab in the center of the enemy camp. The problem is, despite Christianity’s reputation for couching things in terms of black and white, I don’t see the duality Harris proposes. In fact, my “real” definition of spirituality is in some way related to my cynical one above. It’s that separate entity, whether we call it “God,” or “the Holy Spirit,” or “Nature,” or “the Avatar,” that prompts us to think, “maybe I ought to believe in something that’s outside my immediate experience and self-interest.” In other words, “maybe I ought to have a little faith.”

That being said, I think Harris does have some faith himself. For example, he believes that, “It is possible to experience the world without feeling like a separate ‘self’ in the usual sense.” Personally, I think that’s an unsupportable claim about the nature of the universe.

What did you see today?

I saw my boss's boss make a face

Context
My boss's boss came to my cubicle to invite me to a meeting today. When I asked questions regarding duration and agenda, she said, "I don't know," and made a "why are you asking me questions" face.

Commentary
"Perceived" sounded too pompous. We'll just deal with the fact that sometimes "What I Saw Today" will encompass "What I Heard Today."

My boss's boss's reaction (is that a fun phrase, or what?) to my inquiries made me ponder what causes us not to want to hear questions. I think I've broken it down to three basic reasons:

1) We don't know the answer, and we think we should. I think this fit the situation today. This is sad, because I thought "I don't know" was a perfectly reasonable response, but it seemed to make my b.b. unhappy to have to say it.

2) We think the questioner doesn't actually care about the answer to the question. In other words, he/she's trying to provoke a reaction, not being genuinely curious.

3) We know the answer and we're uncomfortable giving it. When we hear the question, we respond by saying something like, "I was afraid you were going to ask that."

I'm wondering if we can get over having a unfavorable reaction to questions. I'd like to accomplish this both because I think questions are generally a good form of communication and because I frequently have all the responses listed above.

Just to let myself off 1/3 of the hook, I'll say I don't think the #3 reaction can be vanquished. It's never going to be pleasant to say, "no, I'm really not interested in dating you anymore," or "it's going to take $500 to fix this and your warranty has expired."

Reaction #1 begs a flippant answer: just make sure you know everything you think you're supposed to know. OK, not likely. How about: become more comfortable with your ignorance? That's better, but still not wholly satisfying. After all, maybe you'd be perfectly OK with saying "I don't know," but you think your questioner expects you to have all the answers. Isn't this why we're so reluctant to admit our ignorance when questioned by a little kid? I mean, we're adults, haven't we had time to learn everything yet? Um, no. The best thing about questions, particularly little kid questions, is that they open up the possibility of learning more if we choose to.

And then there's reaction #2. If we're correct about our questioner's motivation, then we have every right to be unhappy with the question. The problem that frequently happens in my life is assumption of provocation where none was intended. What if I were to treat every question as if it were asked in good faith? Does it actually do any harm to act this way even if someone is actually trying to get your goat?

I am a fashion nightmare. It would be easier to if I could just say I don't care about clothes, but that's not true. I care deeply about my clothing, and my opinion about what looks good is different from just about everyone else on the planet. When I was in middle school and sensitive about such things, fashionistas would look at my outfit and say, "are you in a play?" This would cause the usual adolescent angst on my part, but what if my answer had been, "no, but if I was, I'd be sure to let you know. Thanks for asking."?

If we do that, the insulting person will think we were ignorant of their intent. We'll look like we didn't know something we were supposed to. In that case, refer to reaction #1. Although why we would want to learn more about how evil people can be is beyond me.

What did you see today?