Getting Loose

Listlessness

My gosh, I can’t believe it has been five years (to the day, no less).  No one wants tomes; they want sound bites, hence the popularity of Twitter, which is being eclipsed by Snapchat (and now that I sent my youngest son one, he has sworn off that.)

 

Besides having cancer [though I am in an a clinical trial that has a 98% response rate [and yes, the one tumor I could palpate, is smaller than it was two years ago, (which is another way of saying if I were to feel my body for tumors in an average layman kind of a way, I would never notice the one that has gone down so much)], I am presently suffering with acute bronchitis.  It was fairly easy to self-diagnose, but after having gone on for a week, I stopped in to see my physician, and he confirmed what I suspected—shallow breathing, fever, deep hacking cough like you were going to throw up, phlegm that comes from your chest and not your head, fatigue, find it excruciatingly difficult to sleep for any amount of time.  Taking a chest X-RAY, there may be a little pneumonia in one of my lung lobes, but that is not conclusive.

 

I got to thinking, I am glad I am retired so that I have time to be sick.  Now, I am not trying to be Poor, Pitiful Pearl.  I am exceedingly blessed.  I’m in a better place than I would have ever dreamed possible.  But the life of the clergy is exceedingly hard.  No one gets that, till you are in their shoes.

 

A colleague of mine recounted how his nephew fresh out of college has landed a job in which he will make more money than this man made at his last church before retirement.  I grimaced when he said that.  I knew it was true.  And I totally grasp that none of us entered the ministry to make money.  But clergy have incredibly difficult jobs.  Everyone in your congregation, especially on the Monday after Sunday, can tell you how you could have done it better.  Or how you failed to see Aunt Minnie in the hospital and people are all upset.  Or there’s never enough money, and you constantly have your hand out to remind people about giving to the Lord.  Grace is free, but A/C, and lights, and gas all have a price tag, as does building upkeep, as does quality staff.  Or there is a rumor spreading, which is a half-truth (worse than a lie) and you’ve got to try to counter it.  Or you have an off month attendance wise and you begin to feast on your anxieties.  What am I doing wrong?  Why don’t people like me? 

 

I’ve been retired for over 2½ years, and just reading through that list, is like a heart stab.  I’ve not forgotten.  It is a trait, that by and large, clergy are looking for love and affirmation, and all too often, the churches they serve are toxic for them. 

 

What I’m saying to you is this: whether you go to church, or whether you do not, pray for some minister, somewhere.  It will do you good.  When you pass a church, think about the poor pastor trying to keep it all together.  It’s tough.

 

But coaching is tough, and so is being the superintendent of a school system.  It is exceedingly hard to remain self-defined in such highly anxious systems.

 

I think in some ways our society is being envenomed by the political atmosphere through which we are going.  The acrimony, the finger-pointing, the ad hominem arguments, are poisoning.  People that I know personally, take on a nearly scathing, vicious persona on line.  One of my colleagues while being very personally affirmative looks for every single negative article he can post about the current administration.  People are seemingly unable to get loose from their anxieties surrounding the political sphere.  I have cut way back on watching the cable news shows because the constant bombardment of conflict, intrigue, looking for a deep, dark ulterior motive rather than take the Occams Razor solution with any credibility are enervating. 

 

Just recently, I had a 1st cousin, twice removed, post one of the most outrageous, unsubstantiated bits of libel I had ever seen about the death of David Rockefeller.  I took him to task, albeit in a playful way.  I helped him to understand that Rockefeller had given away ½ of his fortune to help others.  I wondered if in any given year, he had given away even $5,000 to help the common good.  Silence.

 

In my current malaise I have been enjoying more simple conversations, just reading and “liking”, (although in a closed clergy group, liturgical concerns still get my dander up),  letting go, and letting the world spin around some.

 

Shaking the Hand of the Man

I had begged Charles many times to go.

He would usally just look away and wave his hand as if to say, "Scram, Son, you are bothering me."

But today he actually called me to go. I was glad to have him.

Man, the place was crowded. Cars everywhere.

Even the meeting was crowded with guests and members.

The speaker spoke on autism, and that was clearly a topic that moved Charles’s heart as his beloved child is autistic.

After the meeting was over, since we have both parked our cars out back, I knew a short cut and asked Charles if he wanted to follow me to get to where he needed to go.

He consented, and after walking through a rat maze, we were getting close to the last door to push open, when out of the corner of my eye, I happened to notice a man sitting at a table who looked familiar. I thought to myself, "Naw . . . it couldn’t be him. Just a look-alike."

But Charles looked up and exclaimed, "Mr. President!" And walked over to him and greeted him profusely.

He recounted to him a story the details of which were familiar to the President.

And when the President asked him what he was doing now, instead if pulling out his prestigious work at a national level, Charles replied that he was the emeritus pastor of my church. And then he said, "I’d like for you to meet our senior pastor."

The President stuck out his hand.

I was flabbergasted. I shook it and said, "Mr. President, it is so very good to meet you."

Later, I thought, "Wow! How many people ever get to shake the hand of the President of the United States of America?"

I know I am the first one in my family ever to have done so.

More Bang for the Buck

I have a cousin who wrote me and asked, "What in the world does a guy get for $3700?" Of course she was referring to the Eliot Spitzer embroilment.

My response was that I did not know. I didn’t even know how to guess. But I think I now may have found the answer.

Russ Alan Prince wrote a book, The Sky’s the Limit. He says that out of a survey of 661 who own private jets, 34% of men, and 20% of the women who are super wealthy use escort services. When trying to ferret out why they do, he discovered that the most popular reason was "unique experiences" (71%), followed by "higher quality experiences"(57%). "With the wealthy," Mr. Prince says "it’s all about power and control and new experiences." Interesting.

It was also interesting that Dr. Laura suggested that we do not know what was happening at their home. How nurturing and attentive was Silda Spitzer to Eliot. Why did he find the necessity to do this? I still say there is some issue in his family of origin that will shed some light, I just don’t know what those issues are.

Eliot Spitzer

Well, the Eliot Spitzer imbroglio is all over the news.  I kind of feel sorry for him, but my heart really goes out to his wife and their three children.  Did you see her face and demeanor?

I remember one time hearing Rabbi Friedman, bless his soul, say that the crusaders in society virtually all of the time are trying hard to address issues in their own background (e.g., Jimmy Swaggert, Ted Haggard, Chuck Colson, etc.). Here, in past years, Spitzer so aggressively pushed for ethics and fair play, and now he is seen for the hypocrite that he is. Makes me think of a passage where Jesus says, "Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults—unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging."