The Blessing Of Friendship

This morning I traveled about five miles up the road to visit a friend (that's him in the photo) I haven’t seen since the first of the year. We worked together at the sheriff’s office and were two of the twenty-eight fired by the new chief law enforcement officer. I was there for a mere ten years; he was there for thirty-five years and served under three different sheriffs.

We sat and talked for several hours about old times and about what’s going on at the office now. We both realized that in many ways being fired was a tremendous blessing. He was the Chief Deputy and I was the Public Information Officer. We were both on call 24/7 and most days the job dominated our lives. Not being tethered to a pager and a cell phone all the time gave us the opportunity to catch our breath, to enjoy life at a much slower pace.

When we moved into this house three years ago he was one of the men who showed up with truck and trailer and made what could have been a hellish day almost pleasant. After we got settled he also came over several weekends and helped me renovate our guest bathroom. Part of his job as Chief Deputy was being the heavy. He meted out the discipline and could be a terror when the situation called for it. He was a very astute, pragmatic, survivor and a little rough around the edges at times. But it was his job and he did it to the best of his ability. Out in the community he had a reputation as a hard nosed, almost Machiavellian character.

He and I never locked horns. We had our disagreements and there were times when we didn’t stay in the same room together for very long, but it was always work, never personal. As I sat there talking to him I realized how much I enjoyed his company. He is a few years older but he’s also a country boy and on many levels we seem to understand each other. I also realized how wrong most people’s perception of him is/was. He was/is no saint by any means but he is a husband, father and grandfather committed to his family. He knows most everyone in the county and has helped a great many of them over the years. When I worked as a newspaper reporter prior to join the sheriff’s office I was aware of his reputation as a ball-buster (pardon the term), as an almost mythic figure with legendary fits of rage. Time and time to reflect have mellowed him. Well maybe not mellowed, but allowed the real Charlie to come out.

We were talking about photography and how I liked photographing old buildings in the county. He knew of an old church close by that I had never seen so we drove out in his truck and took some pictures. We enjoyed it so much we’ll do it again next week. And he didn’t say anything about the beard. What a friend.

Tears Of Joy

I will always remember the evening of Tuesday, November 4, 2008 as one of the proudest and most profound moments of my life. To repeat the clichés, it was history in the making. It was one of those moments like the first moon walks or the Challenger explosion that is forever etched into our collective memory. The first comparison that came to mind that evening (aside from weddings and new babies) was graduating from boot camp at Parris Island in early February 1978 as a 17-year-old high school dropout newly minted Marine. But that was a personal pride, a solo accomplishment. Tuesday night I was proud as an American, proud that enough of us could look beyond skin color and elect a man based on the content of his character (sorry I couldn’t resist), on the hope of his potential, on the faith in his abilities. As a 48-year-old grizzled and often ill-tempered old man I nevertheless wept. Such joy, such unbridled emotion.

I am neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I voted for both Reagan and Clinton. I even vote for the deceased. On the local ballot Tuesday the position of Surveyor was open but there was no candidate so I typed in Henry David Thoreau. George Washington would also have been a good choice although he’s probably a little too old school for me.

Veterans (especially combat veterans) have a special place in my heart. When I used to put on a uniform and strap on my hand cannon I would never knowingly write a veteran a traffic ticket. I would simply send him on his way with the sight of my grateful salute fading in his rearview. The men and women who defended our country and our way of life do not need me giving them grief. Who better in our society to honor? We are a peaceful society but we rely on the mettle and resolve of our warriors, the men who answer the call, the men who stand in the breach, the watchmen on the walls, the eternally vigilant.

Having said that I honor Sen. John McCain and the tremendous sacrifice he made on our behalf. He is truly an amazing man, a hero in the truest sense of the word, an example to us all of how we can maintain our dignity in even the most trying of circumstances. He would be a great president and truth be told he probably deserves it more than just about anyone. In his concession speech Sen. McCain quieted those who were booing and urged everyone to unite together behind President-elect Obama. He once again demonstrated the qualities we want in our political leaders, tenacious fighters who when faced with the inevitability of defeat bow out gracefully and support the victor.

But I did not think his would be the steadiest hand at the rudder. That feistiness, that bulldog response is not the best approach to dealing with the almost insurmountable problems now facing President-elect Obama. In my mind these issues are better resolved with a cooler head, a longer fuse. I suspect we will see that Obama is indeed a man of tremendous resolve and able to keep his head when those around him are losing theirs. A man who understands that compromise is not synonymous with weakness, a man who will be willing to trust but will also verify. For too many years now we have bullied our way around the world stage and alienated pretty much everyone in the process. We have been the ugly American. It is time to embrace the hope of a brighter future and to reclaim our heritage as the greatest nation in the world.

Two works come to mind:

The Second Coming
by
Robert Butler Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

and:

Psalm 46

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Selah.
There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.
God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: God shall help her, and that right early.
The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved: he uttered his voice, the earth melted.
The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.
Come, behold the works of the LORD, what desolations he hath made in the earth.
He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; he burneth the chariot in the fire.
Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.
The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.

Honor And Old Glory

I took the top photo at about 8:15 this morning. The river is the St. Marys River and the green horizon beyond that is Florida. It was one of those moments that held me transfixed as I was overcome by pride/joy/sorrow. I stood offering silent thanks to our Creator, to all those who have come before who held fast to the dream of a place where freedom reigns. The sight of our flag waving in the cool morning breeze reminded me once again that freedom is not free.

I don’t consider myself a super patriot. On probably too many occasions I criticize the Federal Government in general and the Bush administration in particular. But I understand just how blessed I am to live in America, to have the right to vote, to enjoy the freedom to live my life as I see fit, to worship free of government's grasp. And today I was once again struck by the simple beauty of our national flag. I think too many times it becomes ornamentation in our lives, just the backdrop to some group function. In our daily grind we forget just how important our Old Glory truly is.

Simple symbolism. Seven red stripes and six white represent the thirteen colonies at the beginning of our journey to nationhood. Fifty stars in a blue field for the fifty states, each separate yet integral to the inviolate whole. Our flag demonstrates our unity as a nation, as a people. It reminds us of who we are and from where we come. It is a symbol of our might and our commitment to right, of our compassion and of our steadfastness in the face of adversity. It is the reminder of the blood spilled, of the lives lost in our defense.

As a proud American and a former Marine the Iwo Jima image is for me and for many of us particularly potent. The Greatest Generation's fight on two disparate and but equally deadly fronts. We were still a nation in the making until the slumbering giant awoke to the sound of guns, the scream of battle, the looming threat.

Despite ourselves, despite the shoddy treatment we have too many times given our veterans we are blessed beyond all measure.

To ALL the veterans out there, thank you.

She Is The God-bearer

On Sept. 8, The Church celebrated The Feast of The Nativity of our Most Holy Lady the Mother of God and Ever-Virgin Mary. I’m not sure why but I found myself deeply contemplating (not easy with my shallow mind) this feast day in general and the Theotokos in particular.

As a good (sometimes) God-fearing (almost always) Protestant I never gave much thought to Mary other than at Easter and Christmas, those days when she intruded into the celebration and could not be ignored, diminished certainly, but not ignored. At that time anything to do with Mary smelled suspiciously of the Romans with their statuary and their candles and their incense (or Popery?). We were taught that the Romans (we never even knew the Holy Orthodox Church existed) did their best to elevate Mary to a full share in the Godhead and sought to change the Holy Trinity to the (un)Holy Quadripartite (I’m sure that’s not exactly the right word so please correct me Fr. Frank). I apologize for all the (excessive) parentheses.

My church experience prior to coming home to Orthodoxy was that we were in theory Trinitarian but in practice unitarian (not those Unitarians of the watered down gospel) in that the focus is almost solely on Christ to the exclusion of God the Father and The Holy Spirit.

In broadening my views on Mary I came to understand in a much deeper way how through Christ’s humanity and our shared humanity we need not fear death. The concept of sharing is His humanity for some reason just never seemed significant. I know this sounds a bit preposterous and points out quite clearly my cranial density but I eventually began to grasp that we are the beneficiaries of Christ’s full humanity (He having sprung from Mary’s womb).

As for venerating and lifting up the Theotokos, who better in the history of humanity to lift up? She is the God-bearer. Her unhesitant acceptance, her embrace of what God the Father through the Holy Spirit would make manifest through her is the model for us all.

I no longer flinch at, “Most holy Theotokos, save us.” I am comforted by:

“Remembering our all-holy, immaculate, most blessed, and glorious Lady, Theotokos and Ever-virgin Mary with all the Saints, let us commend ourselves and each other, and all our life unto Christ our God.”

“It is truly right to bless you, O Theotokos,
ever blessed, and most pure, and the Mother of our God:
more honorable than the cherubim, beyond compare more glorious than the seraphim —
without corruption you gave birth to God, the Word.
True Theotokos, we magnify you!”

And all God’s people said, “Amen.”

Daughter as Mother

After I dropped my daughter off at school yesterday morning this is what I found in the back seat, Buzzy Bee and Bunny. Bunny was a gift from her godmother and has been her boon companion, best friend and security blanket for most of her nine years (she just had a birthday). She is a wonderful beautiful child, loving, healthy, good natured and full of the energy of a third grader. The Lord has poured out tremendous blessings upon my family.

And yes Bunny desperately needs a bath.