Author: Bev

It’s college football season, so if you’re not a football fan, please forgive my analogies, that follow.  So, a few football fouls, against the defense, which are relevant to my musings herewith are: “roughing the kicker,” “roughing the passer,” and “pass interference.”

While the offense is just doing their job, fouls perpetrated by the defense, such as contact, holding, pulling, tripping, hands to the face, or cutting off legally, offensively intended movements, are illegal and against the rules of the game.  Roughing the kicker is clearly a defensive ploy.

Surely, you’ve never been defensive, and rebelled against the rules that life has handed to you.  Or, you’ve never put off the unpleasant inevitables of life, by avoiding the rules put into place by the powers that be.

Have you ever been the receiver, blocked from doing what you want to, by pass interference?  Maybe you then found yourself raucously opposing the seemingly unfair rules of the game of life?

I’m reminded here of a form of bucking the system, referred to in the biblical book of Acts as “kicking against the goad.”  This was a literal agrarian concept of using a slender piece of timber sharpened to a point, to prod stubborn oxen into motion.

I don’t know if you’ve had any real-life experience trying to move a large farm animal when they don’t want to move, but I have.  I found myself at the mercy of one or two large rams which did not care to go in the direction they should have and needed to go.

When a stubborn animal foolishly kicks against that sharp goad, it can cause itself unnecessary injury and pain.  Isn’t it frustrating to find yourself unable to explain to that “dumb animal,” that it is in their best interest to move where you are directing them?

In fact, as is often the case in biblical literature, most text is a metaphor for you and me.  When Jesus said, when referring to the goad and the stubborn oxen, he was really speaking to self-willed, headstrong people, “You are only hurting yourself by fighting me.”

It’s often painful at first when we’re goaded into the right direction.  But kicking against the goad only increases the pain.  If we could just make peace with our direction in life and go with the flow for a time, perhaps the good in the new or the change will yield a surprisingly pleasant reality.

Jesus exercised compassion toward the oxen, aka the stubborn human when he said “it is hard for you.” Rebellion is a hard path.  It’s more painful than the path of peace and acceptance, forward.

Have you ever taken a path that you knew was right for you, but it was hard?  Let’s say, you plowed ahead and the difficulty eased, revealing the “necessity” of having taken that path.

I think none of us willingly take the narrow, rocky, or difficult path, in life.  In fact, Scripture reveals a truth in Matthew 7, that most of us gravitate to the wide, most-followed, crowded, easy path, when possible.

So, the next time you’re goaded into the “right direction,” perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor by not kicking against the goad.  Maybe, sit in the pain for a short time until the clouds begin to clear and you can see the sense in what seemed senseless in the beginning.

In your defense, stop roughing the kicker.  Those in your offense, in the game alongside you, are doing their best most of the time to usher you along the path you’ve selected.

“Bring it on, day!”  Sometimes I wish I hadn’t begun my day with those words.  You know what I mean.

One of the positive things about the social media platform, Facebook, is the uplifting sayings which are spread around like germs.  We all could use a bit of encouragement from time to time.  I’ve found some gems along with the germs in those little idioms.

The saying which I pondered in the musings which have become this column goes like this: “Life’s so ironic.  It takes sadness to know happiness, noise to appreciate silence, and absence to value presence.”

I had just come off a week of some difficult moments.  At the peak day of those difficulties, I felt like most of us have at one time or another, that I couldn’t take any more.

Soldiering through is a skill that we can all develop if we are put into tough situations often enough.  So, soldier-through is exactly what I did.

Compared to that day, the next day felt like the sun had risen in my world, for the first time in a while.  It was a truly ta-da moment where I could almost palpate the freedom I felt, compared to the adversity from the day before.

A day can come upon you, which is shockingly difficult, when you expected to “do other things.”  I can’t tell you how often either my husband or I exclaim in numbingly blatant terms, “this is not what I expected to do with this day.”

We just can’t count on what a day will bring.  The saying, “we’ll see what the day brings,” could be restated as, we’ll see what happens.

I’ve seen enough cop shows and mystery movies to have observed a few skeptical police officers question a mystic or medium who has come forward with some information about an impending murder, and say, “if you can see this, why can’t you see who the murderer is?”  Most of us aren’t privy to such information about an upcoming day.

Jesus said, “you won’t know what day or hour I’m coming again.”  I think we are also told in the Bible that we should be alert to signs and signals and not ignore such potential wisdom.

So, most days will bring some surprising events and outcomes.  But when we look back, we might have missed a few subtle clues as to what that day brought.

That’s hindsight for you.  Another valuable saying is, “you live and learn.”

I also have contemplated the concept of the time we’ve been given each day.  A day of twenty-four hours can be spent in a variety of ways with a variety of emotions, goals, hopes, and expectations.

What do you spend your time on?  Are you a spendthrift with your time, or are you just plain thrifty with the time you have?

Now there’s a word; “spendthrift.”  One might think that because the word thrift is contained in the word, that it means that you are thrifty or cautious with your spending.  But it means the opposite, that you throw away money, spending too much, or unwisely.

I complain from time to time about our beloved cats, who are so very finicky that we never know which can of food will suffice their appetites or to which one they will turn up their noses.  It’s a toss-up.  I’m often heard saying, “well that’s another dollar down the drain.”

Are you a big spender as to your time?  Or do you focus on saving time, banking it for another time?

Do you use your time wisely or foolishly?  Or is that just someone else’s judgment of what you do with your time?

Well, today’s another day and here we are, waiting to see what happens.  As most of you, I’ve made some plans, expect certain things to happen based on preparations put into place, and hope for the best.

All the while, also like the rest of you, I’m gonna put one foot in front of the other with the wisdom I’ve got, and do what I do.  It’s yet to be determined what this day will bring.

“He almost made a great play.”  When is almost good enough, and when does it not cut it?

I was about half watching a recorded college football game, which frankly was a bit boring.  So, I just listened while playing a word game on my phone.

What I heard were announcers consistently using the “almost” adverb more than a few times as to the opposing team to “my team.”  “They almost had that first down…. they almost had that tackle….”  Just once, so far, did I hear them say, “it was a ‘clear cut’ first down.”

So, since when is “almost” a reasonable call by football announcers?  It seemed odd to me; and possibly biased toward one team.

This made me think somewhat more deeply about the word and concept of “almost.”  The word refers to “for the most part,” “very little short of,” or “very nearly.” 

“Not quite,” comes to mind.  “Just kidding, not really,” also comes to mind.

Surely this concept came from an indecisive conqueror way back in the stone age.  “I think I want your land, so I’m gonna take this portion and I’ll decide later if I want it all.” 

Is it simply gentler to say, “I almost made it to the finish-line,” than to say, “I didn’t make it to the finish line?”  So, do we use this word to go easy on our ego when we can’t cut it?

For example, do we avoid saying “I can’t” and say instead, “I almost can,” and that suffices in our minds?

Are we dumbing-down, psyching ourselves out, and pretending to be okay by using such words as almost?  Whatever happened to truth, honesty, forthrightness?  Denial is easier, I’m guessing.

So, I almost finished this column when something crazy and important happened which demanded my full attention.  To be honest, I just didn’t finish the column.

 

What’s the difference, indeed?  Well, there all kinds of differences.  We look different from one another.  We talk differently.  We live different places.  We think and we feel differently from each other.  We have different ways.  We have different religions and different values.  We want different things from the lives we lead.

Matthew Engelke said, “While anthropology wants to document difference – and often to be a witness to it – it also wants to make sense of those differences.  Anthropology seeks to explain.”  A hundred years ago, I taught Introduction to Sociology and Cultural Anthropology.  That study of anthropology must be where I got my need to explain.

I particularly liked teaching several sections, among them was Assimilation vs. Differentiation or the Melting Pot vs. the Salad Bowl.  Assimilation spoke to European emigration to the U.S. in the 19th century, when the goal was nation-building, and one nation, under God was the ideal.  This is from whence many of you, and I hailed.

People thought at that time, the nation would be best served by a people with one identity, therefore, the various immigrant nationalities were expected, or forced – depending upon one’s perspective, to set aside their unique national heritage and identity for the sake of becoming American.  We were a melting pot, or a soup cauldron.  James Baldwin put it this way, “The American ideal, after all is that everyone should be as much alike as possible.”

You’ve heard the idiom, “It’s the same-difference?”  Same difference comes from a melding of the word same and the phrase no difference, and it first appeared in 1945.  Well, we’re not the same, although “There is very little difference in people, but that little difference makes a big difference.  The little difference is attitude” (W. Clement Stone).

As to the differences between people, I like the way Bill Clinton put it, “Our differences do matter, but our common humanity matters more.”   However, we can all likely agree with Vincent O’Sullivan that “If you’re different from the rest of the flock, they bite you.”  Don’t they just?

I’m okay with soup, but its consolidation of a bunch of flavors, textures, and solids into a smooth, singular sensation leaves me wanting.  In fact, the soups I prefer are chunky, not a pulverized, smooth amalgamation of nothing in particular.

I overwhelmingly prefer salad.  The crunch, surprising changes in flavor, and discernible differences in ingredients are what satisfy my palate.

Differentiation speaks to more recent emigration to the U.S. and a “we are the world,” multi-culturalism.  The salad bowl metaphor depicts our culture as one in which a flavorful, colorful, crunchy mixture of unique cultures work separately and together to freely form a diverse people into one union – unity within diversity.

Personally, I think the crunchy part of the salad is the most telling, culturally.  Crunchy is what differences between groups produce.  Other ways than my ways make me bristle and frankly the clash of cultural or ideational textures sometimes “rubs me the wrong way;” just like the sensation of wool on my skin.

Some folks just don’t want to fight through our differences.  It’s easier to just stick with the easier route of spending time only with those who are like us.  I guess if you prefer not to distinguish between a burro, which is an ass, and a burrow, which is a hole in the ground, then you’ll never know the difference between your ass and a hole in the ground.

We have our differences.  Think on these thoughtful quotes:  Marty Rubin said, “the sea and the shore disagree, it’s only natural.”  I would add, but oh when the two meet!

Another one is, “The heart and mind work together but make decisions differently (Ehsan Sehgal).”  This is the very definition of wholeness.  You can’t separate the heart and the mind, they work together, making us whole.  Finally, “We all see the same thing, but interpret it differently (Sukant Ratnakar).”  Rasheed Ogunlaru said, “We are one at the root – we just part at the branch.”  I’m all about trees and branches, and such.

Now, I segue to The Tower of Babel, which I always understood was about God’s judgment on a narcissistic bunch of unruly, mean-spirited people; a people with one mind and goal – setting themselves above God.  Thus, the tower they were building, was intended to gain a one-up on the Almighty God.

Rabbi Sacks (Not in God’s Name) parlays another, more plausible truth of the matter of The Tower of Babel.  He reminds us that Genesis Chapter 10 tells of seventy nations with seventy languages – God-given differences and each respected for their uniqueness, working at nation-building.

By Genesis Chapter 11, one imperial power imposed its monotheistic will on the seventy nations, making them follow one God, one truth, and one way, and speak one language.  This now, one nation was orderly and compliant (a primary goal of nation-builders), but bland and devoid of life and color.

God – the Founder of Monotheism, when he confused the language of the builders of the tower (Genesis 11:7) was not pronouncing judgment, but restoring the nations to their distinct, unique, cultural identities.  Sacks (Not in God’s Name) suggests that the whole of the Hebrew Bible is God’s attempt to show humankind the way out of our “fundamental human dilemma” of difference.

No matter what our differences, if we remember that we all have something in common – the image of God inside us – that glimmer of commonality can point us toward peace.  No matter how ugly, beautiful, sinful, saintly, grotesque or majestic we look or behave; we have a common feature: God’s image.  Remember, “One who is not in my image is nonetheless in God’s image” (Sacks, p. 202).

“Vive la difference!”

“Oh, my word, is it just me or is it really humid today?”  “Is it just me or was that pizza really salty?”  “Is it just me, or is that man really staring at us?”  “Is their music really loud or is it just me?”

Nobody wants to be alone in their perceptions.  We all need confirmation once in a while that what we think we’re perceiving is indeed what’s there.

Also, nobody wants to be alone in thinking something’s wonky.  The reality is, everybody has to put up with some nonsense from time to time.

“No, it’s not just you.  You’re not alone.”  That’s all we wanted to hear and then most of us move on to what’s next.

Unless you’re a victim.  Then you can’t move on, you’ve begun to identify with being wronged, and you want others to join your pity party, pat your back, and feel your pain.

Has someone ever told you, “Don’t take it personal?”  When someone treats you badly, how do you not take it personal, and avoid becoming a victim?

There are victims of crime and there are victims of circumstances, and there is a victim-personality.  There are so many victims these days, who have to blame someone or something  for their pain.

Once upon a time there was a victim of a crime.  A young man was senselessly murdered by another man vested with authority, which he doled out badly.

Almost immediately, that criminal and his cohorts were divested of their power and authority, and soon thereafter their freedom, as is usual in the first steps up the ladder of the American justice system.

But, before anything orderly or coherent could progress throughout the system, “the system was hijacked” by victim-hood, confusion and hate.  Powered by fear, greed, disadvantage, hurt, and uncertainty, a storm gathered victim after victim until a great fault divided the shores, valleys, prairies, and mountains of this land.

When I think about victims of crime, circumstances, or even those who might have a victim-complex, I associate them with scapegoat-culture.  Since, the word victim derives from the Latin victima, meaning sacrificial animal, I began to muse on the concept of the scapegoat.

My scriptural memory store associates the scapegoat with the story in Genesis 22, of Abraham heading on a journey with his young son, Isaac, up a mountain at the behest of God, to sacrifice his boy, of promise.  After having prepared the altar and strapping Isaac to it, out of the wilderness, wandered a ram.  God prepared a substitute for Isaac; a scapegoat.

So, scapegoating is the practice of singling out any individual or group for “unmerited negative treatment” or “blame.”  There has to be someone to blame for my poor self-esteem, my declining mental health, my crappy circumstances; for things turning out “wrong,” in my life.  Or does there?

Sometimes you just want everybody to move on and live their lives.  Many “victims” can’t do that.  They’re always churning up chaff.  I think people who are members of “victim-culture” are metaphorically allergic to wheat; just tossing chaff, or blame, into the air willy-nilly, for the rest of us to choke on.

Can you think of any individuals or groups in the world today, or in your own world, who serve as scapegoats, undeservedly bearing the brunt of blame for wrongdoing, real or imagined?  Holy moly, the list is as long as my arm, yours and a whole slew of arms joined together.

It’s a blame-game culture, me thinks.  Not to mention a culture chock-full of victims, who repeatedly cry out, “The system is unjust.”  “I’ve been wronged.”

How can we stop this cycle of madness perpetrated by this “they?”  I wonder if it’s forgiveness.

In the Hebrew account of the scapegoat, once the scapegoat was sacrificed, effectively taking on the blame for another, all parties are forgiven.  End of account. 

I hear echoes of “that’s not fair.”  Fairness is relative and it can’t be measured on a scale.  It’s also a rather childish notion, compared to the grown-up concept of forgiveness.

It’s a tall order, forgiveness.  Most of the time, forgiveness is undeserved, just like scapegoating.

Shall we give a modicum of credit to Christians, most of whom believe, Jesus was the ultimate scapegoat.  Was that fair?  Fair or not, his sacrifice ended it, if you believe.  He sealed the sacrifice by saying, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” 

 

 

 

When responding to an invitation, I was tempted to say, we will be there, “if the good Lord’s willing and the creek don’t rise;” (1955 Jerry Reed) because you just never know what that day may bring.  Then I rethought that and just said, “we’ll be there.”

English grammar rules are fraught with exceptions.  This makes our beloved language one of the most difficult languages to learn for the non-English speaker.

Grammar mistakes circulate through families, as does “good grammar.”  Exceptions to the grammar rules are also handed down from one generation to another.  From a young age, we learn language through example and our teachers are those with whom we spend the most time.

If your daddy said, “I seen a bear in the woods today,” and your mama said, “Well, I saw a wild turkey during my walk along the trail,” it’s possibly a toss-up whether you’ll inherit your dad’s grammar mistake or your mom’s crisp understanding of the rules regarding the word, see and its variants.

Most of us remember from school, an oft-used spelling ditty involving a familiar spelling rule: “I before E except after C.”  But there are over seven thousand words in the English language that defy this rule.  As I said, there are so many exceptions in English.  We native English speakers have learned to accept the rule that “it’s this way, except when it isn’t.”

We accept most exceptions. For example, the homophones in my previous sentence have got to be a conundrum for non-native speakers.  To “accept” is to receive without question, but to “except” is to exclude.

Have you ever been the exception, been excluded for some reason or another?  Have you ever been the other, or an outsider?  If so, then welcome to English-based civilization.  I think we’ve all been the exception at one time or another.

I’m not necessarily a rule breaker, although there has been a rule on the books that stipulates not to use contractions in writing.  But I write how I talk.  There is another rule, not to start a sentence with but.

I really like that there are exceptions to the rules just in case I’m not all that keen on a certain rule in the first place.  From a writer’s perspective, it seems like the rules sometimes restrict personal expression, creativity, and even clarity.

About song lyrics and the story of “ain’t.”  I was under the impression that “grammar rules be damned,” originated with song lyrics, such as the one quoted in the first sentence of this tome.  Music is a famous vehicle of rebellion, communion, antipathy, and agreement, all balled up in one very influential enigmatic medium.

But when I did a bit of research, I found that the “word” ain’t was used way back before the 1955 hit, “Ain’t that a Shame” sung and popularized by Fats Domino.  What’s with the bad grammar in these 1955 songs?

The controversial word, ain’t is one of the most pervasively non-standard English language vernacular words ever used.  And, incorrect usage of don’t for doesn’t and seen for saw, pervades our cultural landscape in songs, rhymes, and everyday conversation.

Ain’t is used widely in song lyrics, presumably because it rhymes better than the more cumbersome but grammatically correct, is not, are not, isn’t, etc.  For example, “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother,” wouldn’t quite cut it as “He Isn’t Heavy, He’s, My Brother.”   Nor would “It Ain’t Necessarily So,” sound right as “It Isn’t Necessarily So.”

There’s a certain flow to familiar phrases such as “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” “you ain’t seen nothin yet,” and “say it ain’t so, Joe,” that their grammatically correct counterpart can’t achieve.  The word usage of ain’t may not be grammatical but it is acceptable in certain instances.

Ain’t is okay nowadays, but like it or not, it is sometimes associated with the non-standard speech of the less educated and is socially unacceptable in some situations.  In fact, in the 18^th and 19^th centuries the word, ain’t became stigmatized as the perfect example of a shibboleth, a word used to determine inclusion in or exclusion from those who were educated.  “Ain’t that a shame?”

General Douglas MacArthur said, “rules are mostly made to be broken and are too often for the lazy to hide behind.”  Well, ain’t that somethin’?  I guess the good general adapted well to the myriad of English language grammar exceptions.  I think I’ll go and lie down after I lay this piece to rest.…..

With reference to the 1980 Blondie song, “Call me on the line, call me, call me, anytime,” I ask, really, anytime?  Have you answered a call on your life?  Do you have a calling?

Having a strong inner impulse toward a certain vocation, profession, or action is sometimes referred to as a calling.  This use of the term can be traced to the 1550s, although it originated in the biblical book of I Corinthians 7:20, where it refers to a position or state in life.

In the mid-13^th century, the noun, calling, referred to a summons or invitation.  In this sense, if you were called to appear before someone, it was not unlike our modern-day legal summons to appear before a court official, and it isn’t a request, it’s more like a demand.

In 1882, to call, was Middle English, to stand at the door and call out.  This reminds me of a familiar scripture from Matthew 7:7-8, ask and it shall be given; seek and you will find; knock, and it shall be opened. 

The thing about asking, seeking, and knocking, is that they are action verbs.  When you take these actions, you rightly expect a reaction for your effort.  However, expectation is key here.

When you ask, you will receive, but you might not receive the answer you expected.  When you seek, you might find something altogether different from the thing you sought after.  But, with an open mind, you just may get something better than expected.  The Rolling Stones put it this way, “you can’t always get what you want… but if you try sometimes, well, you just might find you get what you need.”

When you knock on a door, the one that opens to you might be surprising.  What’s behind your door may beckon you inside a maze of paths that lead you in a direction that is not a part of your five-year or twenty-five-year plan.

Don’t be disappointed at your unexpected outcomes.  In fact, I’ve encountered a few busy signals in my day.  Many times, when we call, we can’t get through.  Or we’ve been called, didn’t or couldn’t answer and when we return the call, the line is busy.

I can’t tell you how many true crises we’ve been through that have led to opportunities and an easier course, forward.  “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” comes to mind.

This reminds me of a story in current affairs.  Let’s say you were called to become a princess, or duchess as it turns out.  You expected to be adored worldwide.  You thought your job would be to dispense goodwill, dress extremely nicely, wave and smile a lot, travel, and receive thanks for your efforts.

Instead, your job is work, constant, thankless work, helping some folks who don’t care, are ungrateful, and who criticize you to your core.  You found that there are plenty of people out there who don’t like who you are and they’re not afraid to shout it to the world.

The nice clothes are fun but somebody somewhere says you’re a cow.  Your waves and smiles are said to be fake and some of the travel is just plain dirty and you’re expected to eat some pretty gross stuff, with thanksgiving, trying not to let your face betray your disgust.

Suddenly your dream of becoming a princess has come crashing down around you and your self esteem is damaged, perhaps beyond repair.  Your mental health has nosedived and all you can think is you want out of this mess you’ve been called to.  You think, “If this is what my calling to be a princess is, I quit.  I’m hanging up from this call.”

As a princess, you’ve got the power now to exact revenge on the people who made you a disillusioned princess.  Will you wield that power with your eye toward the folks who appreciate the good you are capable of, or will you try with all your might to hurt those who called you to this gilded cage?

Untempered vision is a dangerous thing.  Rejected counsel is another.  Whole-hog action without a juried plan, is folly.

Be all that you can be, as that princess.  It truly is your calling.  Become pliable clay in the hands of the one(s) who called you to this task, this place, this job, this family; they know what this calling takes.

The thing about “calling” is that you’re compelled to follow it whether you like it or not.  So, learn to like it, some how or another.  Be teachable by your fate.  You might be surprised by what you’ll learn, I know I have.