Theological Granny

Monday, January 29, 2007

Super Bowl Tickets

An Associated Press article published in the January 27 2007 Rochester MN Post-Bulletin spoke of the prices being paid for Super Bowl tickets this year. Though the face value of the Super Bowl tickets is $600 to $700, the extensive scalping of the few available seats has resulted in "upper-level seats from around $3,000 to luxury sideline suites for over a half-million dollars, though the average regular Super Bowl ticket sold online is about $5,115."

In a world where BILLIONS have annual incomes far below this amount, it is difficult for me to really understand this kind of spending prioritization, but a vice president of one of the online ticket brokers explains "such tickets are seen as admittance to a once-in-a-lifetime experience...'People spend a lot of money, thousands oof dollars quite often, for experiences like going to Hawaii, going on a cruise, going to Disney World...Fans, especially passionate fans, think nothing of spending that amount of money on an event like this.'"

One Illinois small business owner bought four tickets on line for $24,800. "'I had it up on the screen and I didn't hit that button for probably 10 minutes,' he said. 'I tried to justify it 15 different ways but it's an opportunity I probably won't have again.'" Another man " is pensive about cashing in his life insurance policy, wistful about putting off his wedding engagement, fearful about making the big purchase,” but purchase the tickets he will. In a culture that encourages rationalizing whatever spending is necessary to enhance our own personal comfort or happiness, being able to boast of the obscenely large price tag for such tickets is part of the overall “value” of the experience.

And we wonder why the United States is seen as so out of step with values in so much of the rest of the world!

Sunday, January 28, 2007

This morning’s Sunday School session was the last in a series on bioethics, and Sandy, a nurse practitioner who is part of the Clinic's Ethics team, led the end of life decisions discussion.

As Sandy spoke of the kind of health care rationing that may become more common as the culture (and economics of health care) change, I looked around the room. Tom was sitting in the front row, the mentally challenged man I had the privilege to drive to church this month. Our conversation this morning had been, as usual, labored and slow, as he explained to me some plan of his to try to go to Super Target by himself instead of with “the group”. He lives in a group home in a neighborhood just a mile from my house, and he has often spoken of some programs that he goes to, but I have so much difficulty understanding his very careful speech that I really don’t know how large an accomplishment this trip may be—or if it is even a reasonable goal for him to pull off by Wednesday or Thursday, his target dates.

As I continued considering others in the class, I saw a person with multiple schlerosis, a relatively healthy woman nearing 90, and the husband of a 60s something woman who just this week had angioplasty. Another husband was there without his wife, as she is facing surgery this week for an ongoing medical problem with some neurological involvement. And there I was, still recovering from the heightened asthma complications brought on by the flu of a couple of weeks ago. Sandy spoke of the problems possible with any huge disease outbreak such as the anticipated bird flu epidemic (“not if, but when,” she assured us). “I can tell you definitively,” she stated. “There will not be enough nebulizers to go around in any such event. Rationing will have to occur.”

Rationing that will begin with us, or at least some of us. We had discussed the current national health service guidelines in Britain that do not pay for dialysis or coronary bypass for any patient over 65, and I thought of the Oregon guidelines for some of their state medical assistance procedures. But somehow it seems that most of these kinds of discussions end up always making us think of what other people will be affected, not that we ourselves may be the ones who are turned away from treatment.

And these are the “easy” discussions, the ones that still talk about dividing up the rich American pie of health care and benefits. But there was that article in the Star Tribune that spoke of the extremely drug resistant TB that has now spread outside South Africa into the rest of that troubled continent, threatening hundreds of thousands and even millions more people. There are the ongoing problems of infant deaths due to malnutrition and bad water and lack of immunizations that still trouble much of the world, and the fistulas that leave hundreds of thousands of young girls in undeveloped countries as pariahs subject to great pain and early death, for want of very basic prenatal care.

Our discussion closed with a reminder that we as Christians have “hope,” even when the medical prognosis is hopeless., and we spoke of needing to explore further how we as a church as well as individual Christians can reach out to the hurting, the dying, the frightened, and offer this real and everlasting hope to them. But then , the session was over, and the exploration of this topic must be held to another time. I only pray that I will be able to continue this conversation with others and that we are able to begin thinking in terms of becoming a hopeful people, sharing that hope of the gospel to those who need it most.

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Fleeting Thoughts

On January 3, MPR rebroadcast an interview with Roseanne Carter Cash in which she noted that she has often thought she needs to wear a catcher’s mitt to “catch the songs” that come to her at random moments.

Seems like this would be a good picture for writing inspiration. How often I think of something that seems such a wonderful idea starter but I don’t have my catcher’s mitt on—or I just don’t take the time to reach out with the mitt-like tools at my disposal to write down the thoughts. All too soon, the muse has disappeared, and I face a blank page wracking my brain for what that wonderful idea must have been.

Beatrix Potter-Feminist or Quiet English Farmer?

January 27, 2007

Interesting how our attitudes color what we see in history. In the January 26, 2007, Rochester (MN) Post-Bulletin, actress Emily Watson speaks of her role in a movie about Beatrix Potter, creator of the Peter Rabbit children’s stories. Watson plays Potter's fiance's sister, Millie, "who became one of Potter’s best friends when they discovered a shared political philosophy, which today could be called feminism.
“‘Had Millie been born a decade later (than 1860), she would have been a suffragette,’ Watson said. ‘She was very outspoken, which is one of the reasons I wanted to play her. I don’t often get the chance to play mouthy women.’
“The only disappointment came when she tried to research the character’s political stance. Potter’s estate includes a collection of Millie’s letters, but they didn’t offer much insight.
“’They kept writing to each other their whole lives,’ Watson said. ‘But the letters were full of recipes or stories about gardening. It was all very British.’”

Could it be that for these early 20th century friends, the recipes and gardening were the more meaningful and important parts of their lives? In reading more about Ms. Potter’s life (very little is readily available on the net on Millie Warne), it appears that “feminism” was not hugely important to Potter. Whatever activism she may have been involved in was directed to preservation of the Lake Country around the farm where she spent most of the end of her life. The BBC biography for her notes,

After her marriage, Beatrix wrote less and less, and concentrated more and more on farming - keeping sheep, pigs, ducks and hens - and on her other passion in life: the conservation of the Lake District countryside she had come to love. When she died in 1947 at the age of 81, her last wish was that the English Lake District be kept safe for future generations. Over the years she had purchased a number of farms, for this very reason, and in her will she left 17 farms including some 4000 acres of land to the National Trust, to ensure that her favourite corner of the country remained as unspoilt as when she had known it.
(http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A642151)

So, research on Potter’s life doesn’t reinforce the pre-conceived views Watson wants to lay upon Potter’s life? Then, just decide that she is a feminist anyway. Even intelligent, well-known women have often been known to enjoy domestic pleasures such as cooking and caring for gardens. Have we reached a point in time when women are no longer allowed to enjoy a wide range of interests, instead having to be "into" shopping, travel, sharing only "deep" conversations with their friends? That seems at least as limiting as the most sexist cultrues of the past.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Our Chief Work

On Sunday, our pastor spoke on John 13:1-20, specifically discussing the event and meaning of Christ washing his disciples' feet. While this is often used as a metaphor when we speak of our service to others, Max reminded us that the main point of the passage is to demonstrate CHrist's service and giving to us, NOT in how we are to serve others. Not that service isn't important-it is! But too often we are so caught up in reaching out to others that we fail to step back and absorb WHY we are doing what we are doing, failing to keep Christ at the center of all that we do and say and ARE.

Ben Patterson follows the same theme in an article in Leadership Journal, at

http://www.christianitytoday.com/leaders/newsletter/2007/cln70101.html

As I start out this New Year with all kinds of resolve to DO so many "good" things, both Max and Ben have provided good reminders that I need to stay grounded in the Word and prayer, keeping my focus on God before taking any kind of action, no matter how well-intentioned or good it may be.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Another post from January 2

We finally have some snow, a generous inch or so that fell on New Years Eve, making the four mile drive home from Torrey and Nadia's a little slower than usual but incredibly beautiful. Though the air temperature was close to 40 this afternoon, there was not as much thawing as I had expected, so we still have our Christmas-y blanket of white all around for at least another day.

The sight of all those still mostly blank calendar pages for 2007 is raising again the hope of new, GOOD, habits being able to be established. I am making lists of things to do, changes to be made, old contacts to be re-established. In How to Read a Christian Book, the author states:

"Start at the first of the year with a resolution to read. Although many New Years resolutions are made to be broken, this one doesn’t have to be. When it comes to reading, it is helpful to think ahead to the books we want to read and to schedule them in the year. The plan should begin with a list of books we want to read. Then, we need to ask,’How many books can we realistically read in a year?’”

It’s that “realistically” that is often forgotten this time of the year. Of course I am going to lose 35% of my total body weight (both by dieting and exercising at least an hour and a half daily); get my first book published, along with at least half a dozen magazine articles or devotionals; spend hours each week with each one of my grandchildren; have guests over at least twice a week; and then read another 60 books or so between making the usual goal of 25 baby quilts. Why should realism enter into the picture in any of this planning?

Meanwhile, it is the afternoon of January 2, and my to do list for the day is barely touched, let alone any work toward the newer goals. I haven’t ventured out into the lovely sunshine for a speck of exercise, and the coffee cake dough is just barely starting to raise; looks like another late evening of waiting for that last doubling in size before putting the cakes into the oven. Forecast for 2007? Sunny expectations with more of the same lukewarm action. But hope springs eternal!

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

A Spiral of Light that Leads--Nowhere?

I recently encountered a blog that described an Advent service called "The Spiral of Light." This involved


"a darkened hall, a circle of children surrounded by a circle of adults, and surprising quiet. A tall teenager dressed in angel white slowly carries a candle through the simple labyrinth of pine boughs, to the center. She lights a candle, there, and emerges just as slowly, then follows the first child through the labyrinth. The child carries her own candle, set in an apple for a holder, and chooses a spot for her apple to set in the pine boughs, and returns to her seat while the next child makes the journey. Into the darkness, out with a light of her own, so goes each child, as a harp plays....One by one the third graders, second graders and first graders walk the spiral, then Mrs. Babcock walks quietly to Jamie, and he solemnly holds her hand and takes his candle to the center, taking his time to thoughtfully place his candle where it lights an amethyst cave, near the spiral’s center. When he walks back to sit with his dad, Miles sees Jamie coming and pulls an empty chair next to his own. Jamie’s face lights and he hops onto the tall chair, as Miles pulls him close in a hug.

“I got to be the last one,” he whispers, and everyone hears. “I got to be the last one.”

The musicians stop playing and we sit in silence, a spiral now lit by candles, faces of children visible in the glow. We file out quietly.

“Hey, Jamie,” I say when we are outside, kneeling to his eye level.

“I got to be the last one, you know,” he says.

“I saw it. How was it?” I ask.

“The last one,” he says again. “This is my candle.”

“Yes it is. You have a light,” I say, and wish him goodbye. I wish I were young enough to walk the spiral, too, to see what I might learn. I know there are labyrinths all over the world, for some similar reasons, to go to a center and return again. None are the same as this one, with these children and their friends, and their brothers and sisters.

The children hold their apples for the ride home, in the dark. We turn on the heat for the first time, in the car. Winter is here."

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Not sure of what this ceremony was intended to convey, I sent a comment to the blogger, hoping to better understand the purpose of the ceremony, the message that was intended to be conveyed. The response I received included the following:

"The Spiral of Light is actually a Waldorf School celebration, not intended by the school to be Christian in nature. The Waldorf school "says" nothing, but lets the experience speaks for itself...The Waldorf stuff is meaningful in a metaphoric way."

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I don't mean to pick on the person whose blog this is, a woman who clearly articulates a strong Christian faith. But is it possible that the wonders and mysteries of an experience like "The Spiral of Light" can become a substitute for the truth of our faith? Will first through third graders be able to link this "mystical" experience to the message of the Incarnation of the true Light of the World? In the end, this ceremony just doesn't seem to have any purpose or meaning, and it seems a wonderful teaching moment was lost when Jamie gets such a prosaic answer; "“Yes it is. You have a light,” I say, and wish him goodbye."

"You have a light"? That's all? No discussion about what the Light of the World could mean for this child? At first I thought, well, at least a solemn ceremony is better than an afternoon standing in line waiting to tell Santa what you want him to bring, but the more I reflect, I am not so sure there is much difference. Both events seem to end in emptiness of soul, without anything to help the child come closer to the great joy that can come from seeing the sacrifice, mercy, and love the Incarnation has brought.