What Should We Do, America?

It's been a long time since we painted military trucks in green-gray camouflage colors. Once they were only painted olive drab. The jungle wars in Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and Thailand brought new disguises.

Now when people think of camo colors, they think of beige and tan. The colors of deserts in Iraq and Afghanistan. The color of dust and sandstorms. That's how long it's been since our focus was on hiding in dense growth.

Iraq has largely dropped off our radar screens as citizens. Reluctantly, we are back to Afghanistan. President Obama replaced General McKiernan with General McChrystal. He's taking his time deciding on a strategy and how to support it, seriously dithering according to former VP Dick Cheney. There is validity to that criticism. Meanwhile, a doubtlessly fraudulent Afghan election has taken place. It has taken two months to decide--only to have the opponent drop out of a runoff because it would be hopelessly rigged and flawed also.

Hamid Karzai's government has been criticized as among the most corrupt on earth. Right now and for the foreseeable future it is all we have and all we will have. So now it's time for President Obama to do his business or get off the pot. Pakistan is watching. So is Iran. So is India. So are Russia and China. So are the pundits in America. But how many Americans?

But I want to ask this question of my fellow Americans of all stripes, especially people of faith: When is it finally time for Americans to decide what to do and get it done? Do we double or triple the size of our forces there? Do we just up and abandon the place? Do we muddle along with a grindingly inadequate force because we won't actually support more than that? Do we abandon military strategies entirely but go with a Marshall Plan style humanitarian effort such as we have never seen?

General McChrystal would like 80,000 more troops but might settle for 44K. Probably enough to fail but surely not enough to succeed in stabilizing a country far larger and terrain-wise far more formidable than Iraq. But General M. will be lucky to get 20K. I'm betting the number will be closer to 12K.

But America, whom should we send? Are we willing to send our own flesh and blood? Shall we implement a draft and send only fresh troops who haven't already been deployed to Afghanistan once and to Iraq twice? Are we willing to cough up an income tax surcharge to pay for it all? Are we willing to buy war bonds?

What should we DO, America?

And is attempting a military solution to all of this in direct conflict with our faith? Haven't the true saints been those who have risked everything to: 1) love God above all things (Deut. 6:4-5); and 2) love their neighbors as themselves (Lev. 19:18)? Haven't they been like the wise teacher of the Torah who responded to Jesus that living in conformance with 1 & 2 was above any ritual sacrifice and burnt offering? Didn't Jesus say that the teacher's interpretation was a very close approximation of the kingdom of God (Mark 12)?

Have you ever known a nation that was bold enough to take Jesus at his word? Do you know any churches and faith leaders who do? Have we ever honestly tried the way of Christ?

Our choices in Afghanistan are very limited, thanks in part to so much misguided and failed American involvement in the Middle East and Central Asia over the past 60 years. What is it that we could do following the lead of saints like Greg Mortenson who had the courage to act on their convictions? What is it that we could do that would eventually turn every weapon, instrument and vehicle of war into a relic collecting spiderwebs and overgrown with weeds?

Read the two pieces by Nicholas Kristof, and listen to the two recent interviews on Fresh Air. Then formulate a plan in you own mind. It's our reponsibility as a citizens in this free land. It's being done in our name with our (children's) money and it will profoundly shape the world of the next two decades. It may even have something to do with whether the USA eventually defaults on its massive load of debt.

When asked what most struck her about returning to America from Iraq, former Oregon National Guardsman Rebekkah Mae Bruns remarked, "What stuck me was that the military was at war but America wasn't." Maybe it's time we were.

BTW, Nick Kristof grew up on a sheep and cherry farm near Yamhill, OR just west of Portland. He went to high school with a good friend of mine. Unlike so many columnists and pundits, he has actually spent much of his life traveling and living in the poorest and most troubled areas on earth. He knows the poverty, lack of sanitation, clean water and medical care in Africa. He knows the modern global human slave trade. He knows the plagues of malaria, river blindness and the AK-47. He knows the religious and ethnic chasms of the places we are involved in. He has some ideas.

Do any of the rest of us?

Kristof:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/22/opinion/22kristof.html?_r=1

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/29/opinion/29kristof.html

Charles Sennott:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=111773305

Greg Jaffe:


http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=114210259



So, what should we DO, America?


Pax,
Roger

Soul Food

We drove out to Sauvie Island today. Migrating geese everywhere taking a break on their way south. Beautiful day. Gorgeous day on this agricultural gem only minutes from downtown Portland.

The last of the the pumpkin patches and exotic corn mazes was still open. But most of the pumpkins and squash remain in the fields on the island. That's where they'll stay and slowly rot over winter. Too bad they couldn't be gleaned and turned into food or energy.

On the way back into the city we passed one of those busy intersections where fruit and seafood vendors often park their trucks for roadside sales.

I did a double-take, then turned the car around to be sure of what I'd read. Yeah, every time I get near those jumbo shrimp my soul flounders and clams up, too.

I wonder where they get all those free "pumkins" anyway? Matter of fact, what exactly is a pumkin?

I know, it must be a close biological relative of the "punkins" that some of my neighbors grew in Nebraska when I was a kid.

Maybe "pumkins" are the new soul food. But don't let your clams flounder, you shrimp!

All Saints' Day tomorrow. Reformation Sunday. Give thanks for those who gave their lives of faith so that you could have one in freedom. They hungered for soul food. And they were well fed. May you be as well.

Pax,

Roger

Fall Specials

You know the economy is under stress when Sturgis shirts are going for three bucks. Probably knock-offs from China. One of those "must have" things in life that I've been able to not have. So far... There seem to be more and more of those things that I've been able to get by without. Never owned a pickup, a beer sign, a microwave oven, a cable box, a boat, an alarm system, a riding mower, personal watercraft, snowmobile or RV. Have never owned a Harley but do own a '73 Honda 500 Four. Should be the last motorcycle I ever own.

Our lawn mower is also a '73. Bought it new and have worn out one set of wheels already. Still going. Should be the only lawn mower I'll ever own. I don't pay any attention to spring specials on those. No need.

But fall has me thinking about other things. Time to preserve the lawn mower and garden tiller for winter storage. Maybe time to think about long-term storage for my aging body.

Passed up a good deal in Nebraska last month. Fremont Monument Co. was having a fall special on gravestones. Maybe I should get three.

Or, gee, I could go to Costco and maybe get a shrink wrapped pallet load of 10 for a better price.

Just never thought about a fall special on monuments before. But I guess they know what they are doing. It's one of few businesses I remember from my childhood that's still around in the town where I was born.

But I don't ever want a monument or anything that takes up sapce on God's good earth. I want to return to it as naturally as possible, given our crowded and regulated life today. Time to write those instructions specifically since I'm certainly in the autumn of my life. Spring and summer are past. Fall and winter remain.

God, help me to live each day so that my life becomes a monument--a memorial to You--rather than a piece of stone or a piece of land. I know you as Creator of all. I believe in the resurrection and a glorified body that will bear as much resemblance to my dying one as a blooming tree bears to the seed from which it sprang. This re-creation requires no spare parts temporarily preserved in formaldehyde, steel, concrete and buried under feet of soil.

It requires only your hands, your power, your steadfast and undying love. Fall specials that run all year.

Thanks, God!

Roger

Memorial Gardens

I've only been inside only one VFW hall in my entire life. That was in Woodland, Washington. I went to let them know there would be a special worship service two blocks down the street last November. We would honor and pray for vets, provide a brunch. I wrote the service. Led it in my U.S. Air Force uniform. Nobody from the VFW came. They had a better dinner of their own.

I was glad to leave the VFW hall. The cigarette smoke inside was so thick that my eyes watered. I had to wash my clothes after having been in there only five minutes.

While in Nebraska last month, I took pictures in my hometown. I've never been to the VFW here, but I notice they have a patriotic bench. Anybody can come for the food and drink. They are open Sundays. Just like church.

They provide color guards at local cemeteries for Memorial Day and Veterans' Day ceremonies. Probably do also for funerals of deceased vets in the community. If anyone wants.

They have a Memorial Garden on the west side of the building. It obviously needs a little paint on the fence. Could use some gardening, too. I wonder how long it's been like this and if it ever looked better.
I often wonder how much some of this means to most Americans these days.

I served four years of my life during the sixteen years that America was mired in Vietnam. Now, I don't have any difficulty figuring out how life here was improved and secured by our involvment in World War II. But really, when I look at either my 31-year-old daughter or my nieces and nephews and their kids, how were their lives made better by our 16 years in Vietnam? Please tell me soon.



Over 39 years ago, a college friend Wayne and his wife Susan emigrated to Canada. Wayne wanted to avoid serving in the military here. I stayed and served because I wanted to have a voice in the future of our country.

Now, Jean and I are wondering if we made the wrong decision to stay here--even after returning from my Air Force duty overseas. Jean has had a very tough time this year--after tougher and tougher ones the past several. Kids at school are becoming more unruly by the year. Maybe by the month. She gets depressed on weekends thinking about going back to school every Monday. But what else can she do? She's our health insurance. We couldn't afford it on our own. With a previous brain tumor on your medical charts, what new private insurance plan would call it anything but a non-covered pre-existing condition? Would she be denied insurance if she found a different job? At twice or three times the going rate? What employer would even want her on their plan? But how healthy is it to stay in a job that depresses a person every day?

Our friends who went to Canada face no such predicament. They could change jobs anytime they wanted. No concerns about loss of health insurance. Not an issue. No matter what happens in the future, they will never be denied health insurance coverage, never face the prospect of bankruptcy over health care costs. I remember when their first daughter Claire was born in the mid 70's. It cost them a buck-fifty to buy a nursing bra for Susan. That's it.

Take a look at that memorial garden. If that's a memorial garden, then I don't know what either a memorial or a garden is.

America's health care system and costs are bankrupting the country. So-called "reforms" being proposed won't really be any more sustainable than the current unsustainable system, so far as I can tell. Any better than that memorial garden? Don't think so.

It's been 34 years since Saigon fell and America's travail in Vietnam officially ended. Do we know and celebrate what it got us? Anything besides smoky VFW halls and forgotten memorial gardens? We really ought to have a good answer. Oughtn't we?

Where is our unsustainable health care delivery system going with us? Where will we be in five years, ten years? Twenty? We ought to know the answer to these questions. 'Cuz, like it or not, we're going there. Then, what will we tell our kids? They may expect an answer.

Veterans' Day is coming. Visited a memorial or a VA hospital lately? No? They're smoke-free. Open Sundays, too.

Now, what are we going to do with these things and what they got us?

Pax,
Roger

No Backup

I didn't even call for backup. They provided it on their own.

The 20-somethings at the church home community gathering last night spent quite a bit of time discussing community and communication. Has the explosion of electronic communication actually created community?

The resounding sentiment was "No!" A young social worker backed up how much human communication is non-verbal. In other words, we must have face time.

Another observed that huge violations of appropriateness and boundaries occur when people put out very personal stuff for unlimited numbers of total strangers to read.

Consider the comments submitted online to any op-ed piece, printed either in a newspaper or posted online. From the remoteness, anonymity and aliases of our online identities and keyboards, we humans have taken to using the most degrading and judgmental name-calling to shout down each other's ideas. Would you say these things to a person across the table from you at a coffee shop? If you did, could you defend yourself or the nasty words?

I didn't have to call for backup on some of my wacky observations about modern electroculture. The younger folks provided it all on their own. That gives me some hope. Maybe it's time we headed for the exits of the technology train before it's moving too fast to jump.

Pax,
Roger

Brave New Mall World

Never going to a mall has its down side. It can feel like an alien landscape when one re-enters after a long absence. Jean and I walked there last Saturday since it was too rainy to do our usual outdoor walk.

At times it feels like playing human pinball. People are side-by-side barely moving, and we come dodging and darting through hoping to sustain a certain heart and respiration rate for an hour or so. Three laps on each level usually does it. By then we are more than ready to leave.

Subtract the stuff made in China and the entire mall would implode. Just like LA without the cars and all the roads they require. Take them away, and the metropolis would fit in 1/10 the space.

As if mall stores didn't have enough stuff, there are concourse kiosks to further entice us--half of them trying to sell us new phones and blackberry-type devices.

And all over the place there are younger humans who are perhaps the early prototypes of the bionic hybrids we are sure to become in less than two decades. Some boys, but mostly girls. They walk, zombie like, led around by rectangular electronics held before them, usually in their right hands, like some kind of modern day divining rods. Their right thumbs flail like the wings of a hummingbird. They are texting. Some send and receive as many as 400 a day. They do this indoors, outdoors, at school, shopping, at the movies, probably even while swimming or playing tennis--if any still do that.

A new medical condition may be arising before our eyes: carpal thumb syndrome.

What do the constant texters not see of the world when the horizon has foreshortened to the length of their forearms, extends no further than their fingertips for so much of the day?

When attention span and thought are spread so broadly in bleeps shorter than a Twitter tweet, are brains learning to focus deeply on anything?

Is deep, reflective thought even possible for a new generation of humans? I'm not sure if humans who haven't developed along the way the ability for critical and deep thought, for ability to focus, will suddenly be able to pick it up later in life. I'm not sure we'll be humans, at least the kind of humans that have brought us to this level of development, without the thought processes that have been our nature for millennia. Based on what we now know about the development of the brain, I'd say the odds are strongly against it.

And how will that generation of humans raise and socialize their own young? We really have no earthly idea, do we? Not to worry, though. There's an ap for that.

This probably sounds very judgmental from an old guy who can't keep up. Maybe I'm wrong. I dearly hope I am. Reports from veteran teachers in primary schools tend to back me up, though. Again and again they report a shift in the kids they've seen over the past 25 years. But the real wave hasn't hit yet. Give it a decade or so.

Is electromultitasking a wondrous gift or an impediment to staying focused on anything? Do artists paint better while multi-tasking? Has anyone ever truly mastered the piano or the cello by multi-tasking as they do it?

Maybe we will be like the store: Forever 21. Maybe 21 is the new 13 in our brave new mall world of the mind.

But we can still buy shiny crosses, now barely distinguishable from the NY of the Yankees, the Mercedes-Benz star, the ankh symbol from ancient Egypt, or the Superman "S". All made in China. Unlike most of the people in the mall, I still remember when we made things here. Which makes me old and obsolete. Mall world culture has no need for elders (not synonymous with "the elderly") because culture is now electronically driven by the least experienced humans and their devices, not wisdom driven by those with the most experience and context under their belts. If you've ever felt like a river barge being pushed by a tiny tug that hasn't been where you are, it may not be a coincidence.

Brave new mall world unfolding before our eyes.

Roger

Porno, Or No?

Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. Proverbs 22:6

I don't know what to think.

About two years ago, my author friend Karen Zacharias (http://karenzach.com/) asked me to do some research. I needed to find area relatives of a helicopter pilot KIA in Vietnam in the mid-60's. A living buddy wanted to contact the family. I went to the public library to search several weeks' worth of newspapers on microfilm 'til I finally found the obituary listing all the surviving family members.

Those newspapers from the so-called "free love" 60's, a time regarded by many as a time of vanished morality... Well, to put it mildly, the newspapers were shocking in their modesty. The lingerie ads from the big department stores were first of all B&W, no color. Secondly, they were all stylized line drawings, not soft porn photos of women in seductive poses. Now the ads from Kohl's, JC Penney, even mundane stores like the local Fred Meyer, feature full color shots of women and their wear that is almost equivalent to Playboy features of not so long ago.

But that's almost nothing compared to what Ms. Vicky puts in her store windows at 3x life-size.
Tell me, what's a person to think? What are little kids to think, teen girls? Specifically, what are boys and young men to think? Are they to be completely inert to it? Do the ads and photos communicate: THIS is what I want you to see in me. This is ALL I want you so see in me.

Then, why manufacture the "garments" at all?

But don't women have the "right" to wear things that make them feel feminine, glamorous? Of course! But perhaps it's wise to keep in mind that things send messages about us. Sometimes the messages received might be very different from the ones we think or intend. They might even scare us if we knew.

I wonder if store windows like this do precisely that: send a message that might not be all that wholesome. Or safe to send. Is it porno, or no?

I think the secret's out.

You can't see it in the detail of the photo, but the whole display is for a line called "Cheeksters". Yeah, words all over the bottom of the underbritches. So why put 'em there if they won't be seen by anyone but the wearer before donning them? Hmmmm...?

But wait! There's hope! The whole add campaign is themed on the color pink and those life-saving, world-changing concepts of peace, hope and love. Kinda brings to mind Apostle Paul and 1 Corinthians 13:13: And now, faith, hope and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

Maybe Ms. Vicky's keeping her faith a secret. One can always hope. It's going to take lots of love to shepherd our young through the world we have created for them. May they and their parents find peace. I hope. Amen.

Pax,

Roger