The Convoy and the Man on the Bridge

Cup of coffee in hand, I read this story on the front page of the morning newspaper (click on): Truckers lined up rigs to save suicidal man.

Seeing a man clinging to an overpass high above Interstate 94, Carl Hoffman, a quick-thinking state trooper, “found an ingenious way to save him. He summoned a convoy of 18-wheelers…positioning them one by one to break a potential plunge to the pavement about 25 feet below.”

Carl Hoffman deserves a medal. So do the truck drivers. But the truckers got back on the road before anyone took their names. “The drama over, ‘we told the truckers to take off,’ trooper Hoffman said, leaving the identities of the Good Samaritans a mystery to authorities.” One of the truckers told the trooper that he had done this once before in Florida.

Trucker are a different breed of cat.

Take Wes, for example. Wes logged over a million miles as an over-the-road long-distance hauler. He and his wife, Alice, are members of Shepherd of the Hill Presbterian Church, the wonderful small church I like to call a collection of characters with character.

Wes and Alice are retired in their 80s. Wes was recently diagnosed with cancer that leaves him in great pain and some confusion.

I walk into his hospital room. His eyes are closed. I speak his name. He opens his eyes. His face breaks into a smile. His eyes grow wide. He reaches out his hand. “Oh, my! Look at you. You came all this way just to see me? Oh, my!  Great to see you. You didn’t have to that. You didn’t have to come all that way…just to see me.”

“No problem,” said, “it only took me four hours.” We both laugh. It takes 25 minutes, and he knows it, although the cancer has taken its toll on his memory and cognitive skills. ‘Yeah, but you didn’t have to come.” He squeezes my hand and holds on.

Reading the paper this morning, I imagine Wes as one of those truckers lined up in the truck convoy under the bridge.

Like each of the those truckers, Wes has his own story. And he has lots of stories to tell.

Wes and Alice are the only people I know who have had a coyote for a pet. While Wes was was on the road with his rig, Alice was taking care of the farm with the coyote at her side for companionship and protection.

During one of those weeks, one of the calves was in trouble back on the farm. Alice called the veterinarian. When the vet arrived and reached to open the gate to the pasture, Alice stopped him.  “Don’t go in there. That bull’s mean. Stay right here. Watch this.” Alice opened the gate enough for the coyote to enter the pasture. The coyote ran directly to the bull, stared him down, grabbed hold of the chain from the bull’s nose, yanked the chain tight, and led the submissive bull into the barn. No bull!

So…who saved the calf’s life? Alice? The veterinarian? Or the coyote that got the bull into the barn?  Who rescued the despondent man on the I-94 overpass? The State Trooper? The firemen who cut through the fence and pulled the man to safety? The six truckers in the 18-wheeler convoy?

One of the long-distance haulers is coming down the home stretch asking why his pastor would “come all that way just to see me.” He and his fellow Good Samaritans know the answer better than the pastor.

Yours truly’s favorite form of adoration

Yours truly’s favorite form of adoration.

Minnesota Public Radio News Commentary Today

Minnesota Public Radio for publishing this today. Click on They say politics ain’t beanbag; Marlins manager finds out why | Commentary | Minnesota Public Radio News.

Say “Yes!”

Here’s an uplift for your day.

It comes fresh from a blogger named David from New Zealand. I came across “Say ‘Yes!'” this morning following up on a comment left yesterday in response to Steve Shoemaker’s poem “Denial”  on Views from the Edge. I’m glad I did.

Click Say “Yes!” and embrace your life.

What do you think? Are you having a Yes, No, or Maybe kind of day? Remember, it’s the only one you have and no one else gets to live it. Thanks for dropping by.

Rep. Allen West: Joseph McCarthy Reincarnated?

Do you believe in reincarnation?

Rep. Allen West

I didn’t until I read this story of FL Rep. Allen West (22nd District, FL), pictured here, acting like Sen. Joseph McCarthy, whose search for closet Communists dominated the era of American politics now remembered for “McCarthyism”.  Click Rep. Allen West says 81 House Members are Communists” – ABC News to read  the story and see the video.

Rep. Keith EllisonClick Rep. Keith Ellison (5th District, MN) for information on the Co-Chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus. I know Keith, the first Muslim elected to the U.S. Congress. When Keith left the Legal Rights Center in Minneapolis, I succeeded him as its Executive Director. Keith is always breaking new ground, but becoming the first Muslim member of Congress who is also a hidden member of the Communist Party isn’t part of his ground-breaking. It’s a lie. He is profoundly religious. If being one’s brother’s or sister’s keeper, caring for the poor, makes him a Communist, as Senator Joe McCarthy, once thought…well..McCarthy’s and West’s claims say more about them than about those they fear and love to hate.

U.S. Senator Joseph McCarthy

Rep. West’s allegation that 81 members of the U.S. Congress are Communists, leads me to re-post this social commentary previously published by Minnesota Public Radio in September ’09, a year after the crash on Wall Street.

SORROW FLOATS

 Gordon C. Stewart, 9.10 09

“Sorrow floats.”  Perhaps the line from a John Irving novel in which “Sorrow,” the stuffed family dog preserved by a taxidermist, floats to the surface of the lake after a plane crash, helps explain what is happening in America.

Erin McClam’s “5 weeks on the brink: Reliving meltdown of ’08,” (September 5, 2009) recounts the series of chilling events that almost led to a national crash just one year ago.

Something dear to the American family died last year.  Most of us lived in the illusion of economic and financial health until the day it was rushed to the emergency room for a government rescue.

Since then our memories of the pre-September ‘08 world have taken the turn that families often take at funerals where the eulogies bear little resemblance to the reality of the deceased. We’re quarreling over what was real and what is mythical re-construction.

Following the plane wreck that takes the lives of the Berry family parents in The Hotel New Hampshire, the stuffed family pet bobs to the surface of the lake, floating among the wreckage.  Sorrow floats.  So does the thing we lost in September-October 2008.

What died was the assumption that an unregulated free market system was the best way to organize an economy, the natural partner of democracy.  The market almost crashed.  It didn’t because the government intervened before a reoccurrence of the crash of 1929.  Sometime between mid-September and October 7, when Congress passed its bill to stabilize the financial markets, the myth of the virtue of deregulated capitalism died.  It was stuffed by the taxidermy of government intervention, but it still floats.

When a conviction or a myth dies, it doesn’t go away.  It continues to bob to the surface.  Sometimes, as in the case of the Berry family, Sorrow is much easier to love after it is dead.  Sorrow – obese, lethargic, and persistently flatulent in its old age – no longer waddles through the dining room to foul the air.  The real life Sorrow gives way to the stuffed Sorrow, a thing of nostalgia that lives on…even after it’s dead, and long after the plane has crashed.

Sorrow floats every time fear sounds the alarm of “socialism.”  Sorrow floats every time we shout each other down in town hall meetings.  Sorrow floats every time nostalgia forgets that it was only by government intervention that Sorrow is still around.  The stuffed Sorrow floats every time we forget the greedy obesity that led to the deaths of Lehmann Brothers, Merrill Lynch, and Bear Stearns, not to mention insurance giant AIG and all the banks that had taken the plunge into a market of deregulated derivatives and mortgages that led to the epidemic of home foreclosures, bankruptcies, pension fund disappearances, and job losses.  Sorrow floats a year after the crash when the mind forgets and nostalgically remembers a system we thought was working in our interest.

Old convictions die hard. The economic forces that grew fat over the years when government was viewed as the people’s enemy will stoke the fires of anxiety and anger, taking advantage of the Sorrow that still floats to remind us of something that we love more in retrospect than we did when the day it died of its own obesity.

DENIAL

Peter's denial

Peter's Denial by Carl Heinrich Bloch

Any faith worth its salt recognizes our capacity for denial, betrayal, and flight, as well as our capacity for truth, love, and courage. Steve Shoemaker’s poem about the Apostle Peter, “the Rock” who crumbled, takes us into the heart of the matter. It;s a reflection on Peter denying that he knew Jesus (represented by Carl Bloch’s painting where he looks away from the woman who claims he knows him) and the post-resurrection appearance where the resurrected Christ offers forgiveness.

“DENIAL” – Steve Shoemaker, 2012

 

The future Bishop began badly.  He

was “rude, crude and lewd,” as they say.

His fist would shake, would hit,

his mouth could often be a sneer, or leer…

but Jesus chose him first.

 

The fisherman was big and brash, yes,

bold as well at times.  But after the arrest

a servant girl confronted him and

told those listening that Peter was with Christ.

He swore and then denied it, then again

and still again–she would not stop.

 

The cry then came of rooster telling of the dawn,

and he wept because he had told a lie.

But Peter felt forgiveness full and deep

when Jesus three times told him,

“Feed my sheep.”

Peter “the Rock” was no rock. Nor are we. He was sinking sand. So are we.

Like “the future Bishop,” we slip badly and yet we are raised up. Betrayal, denial, flight are part of every human story. But grace… even more….so much more, abounds! And to the likes of Peter and of us, there comes to our three-fold denial the Voice of forgiveness with a gentle but bold command: “Re-gain your courage. Live in love!”

It Happened in MIAMI

Today’s news reports three high-profile personnel moves.

  1. Arkansas football coach Bobby Petrino was fired for “the decision to mislead the public.”
  2. Best Buy CEO Brian Dunn resigned. “Certain issues were brought to the [Best Buy] board’s attention regarding Mr. Dunn’s personal conduct…and an audit committee investigation was initiated.”
  3. Miami Marlins (that’s a baseball team) Manager Ozzie Guillen was suspended five games. This is the one that’s interesting.

Why was Ozzie suspended five games?

Well…he said something. And now, he says, “I’m on my knees to apologize.”  He was speaking at a news conference at the Marlin’s new baseball stadium that just opened in the Cuban-American neighborhood of Miami.

So…what did he say? Did he utter a string of profanity? Did he assault an umpire? Did he steal money? Was he having an affair with one of his ball-players? Was he insubordinate to the front office? Well…sort of the latter, maybe, in a round about sort of way.

He said something positive about the man Miami Cuban-Americans love to hate. He had outraged the very people the Miami Marlins owners are hoping will fill the seats of the new stadium.

I love Fidel Castro. [OOPS!] I respect Fidel Castro [OOPS again!!!], you know why? A lot of people have wanted to kill Fidel Castro for the last 60 years, but [he] is still here.” – interview with Time magazine.

Ozzie is Venezuelan. Maybe he doesn’t remember that it was Miami Cuban ex-patriots who led the United States into the Bay of Pigs disaster. They tried to kill him. Instead they brought the world to the edge of nuclear holocaust. You don’t get to say that, Ozzie. Your fan base loves to hate Fidel. They hate Fidel more than they love the Miami Marlins, and more than they love the Marlins’ new Spanish-speaking Manager.

Ozzie has a history of sticking his foot in his mouth. That comes with the territory when you hire Ozzie. Now he’s back-tracking, claiming the statement came out wrong because he wasn’t speaking in Spanish. It came out wrong in English. Time magazine stands by its story.

The Associated Press reports this morning that “Guillen said the uproar he created has left him sad, embarrassed and feeling stupid. He said he accepted the team’s punishment. ‘When you’re a sportsman, you shouldn’t be involved in politics,’ he said. ‘I’m going to be a Miami guy for the rest of my life. I want to walk in the street with my head up and feel not this bad, the way I feel now.'”

Bobby Petrino and Brian Dunn have lost their jobs. Ozzie still has his… in Miami.

Given the history of the intended fan base of the Miami Marlins, if I were Ozzie, I think I’d stand by my words and take the first flight home to Venezuela while I still had time before I became the surrogate for the man they love to hate and want to kill in Cuba.

In the Strife of Truth with Falsehood

Get ready for the verbal assaults.The PAC ads. The disinformation and misinformation media campaigns funded by big money with big interests that know how powerful words are.

Words are POWERFUL! Sometimes those of us who stand in pulpits doubt that our words matter. But reading this paragraph in Timothy Egan’s NYT,Deconstructing a Demagogue,”reminds me of just how powerful words are:

Back in 1994, while plotting his takeover of the House, Gingrich circulated a memo on how to use words as a weapon. It was called “Language: A Key Mechanism of Control.” Republicans were advised to use certain words in describing opponents — sick, pathetic, lie, decay, failure, destroy. That was the year, of course, when Gingrich showed there was no floor to his descent into a dignity-free zone, equating Democratic Party values with the drowning of two young children by their mother, Susan Smith, in South Carolina.

Today, if you listen carefully to any Gingrich takedown, you’ll usually hear words from the control memo.

And that’s just the beginning of the story of how language is used and abused for purposes of social manipulation. Gingrich knew that language is “A Key Mechanism of Control.”  Those who are well-schooled in theology and politics know that language is the primary mechanism of mind control: truth becomes falsehood and falsehood becomes truth; beauty becomes ugliness and ugliness becomes beauty; goodness becomes evil and evil becomes goodness, twisted by the language of innuendo and word association.

The cynicism that pervades the American electorate is due, in part, to this demagogic use of language. Words are precious things. Holy things. Sacred things. When they get twisted, they become vulgar and profane, one might even say ‘demonic’ in the sense in which Paul Tillich defined ‘demonic’: the twisting of the good. “The claim of something finite to infinity or to divine greatness is the characteristic of the demonic” (Paul Tillich, “Life and It’s Ambiguities,” Systematic Theology, Vol. 1, p. 102).

Paul Tillich, “The Courage to Be”

Paul Tillich was one of the first university professors fired during the Third Reich in 1933. At the invitation of Reinhold Niebuhr, he came to America where he taught at Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York, Harvard Divinity School, and the University of Chicago. Tillich and his academic colleagues in theology, philosophy, and ethics (Willem Zuurdeeg, Martin Niemoller, Karl Barth, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and Elie Wiesel) left us a rich legacy of linguistic analysis of the language of demagogic use of language.They speak with authority because they each paid a price for their opposition to it.

There are those who say that Hitler won his war after all. His ingenious use of language and rhetoric is the substance of Language: a Key Mechanism of Control. Newt Gingrich is not Adolf Hitler. And we are all well-advised to be very careful with contemporary references to him, the Third Reich, or the Holocaust. Yet the language that once led a nation regarded as “the most sophisticated culture” to swallow the toxin of twisted truth is with us still. The demonic poison how rules the day in America, peddled as cure and candy by candidates bought and sold by the private corporate powers whose PAC ads control the airwaves.

Words are sacred. And those who abuse them enter into the darkness of the demonic twistings that led James Russell Lowell to write the hymn lyrics I sang as a child:

Once to every man and nation Comes the moment to decide, In the strife of truth with falsehood…. Though the cause of evil prosper, Yet t’is truth alone is strong; Though her portion be the scaffold, And upon the throne be wrong;, Yet that scaffold sways the future, And, behind the dim

unknown, Standeth God within the shadows, Keeping watch above His own. – James Russell Lowell, 1945, “Once to Every Man and Nation”

The PAC ads are coming. Plug your ears…or…better yet, listen carefully, listen critically. Then speak out “in the strife of truth with falsehood.”

The Origins of “American Exceptionalism”

In response to “The Sin of American Exceptionalism” a comment arrived from a New Zealander referencing an article in The Atlantic on the history of the phrase “American Exceptionalism” and the irony of how it is being used today for demagogic purposes in this presidential campaign. The Atlantic is one “exceptional” journal. I did not know this history. It’s enlightening.

Click How Joseph Stalin Invented American Exceptionalism. Then leave your comment. Happy reading. And Happy Monday!

The Charcoal Fire — 10 Years Ago

As the sun rose this [Easter] morning, a few of us warmed ourselves around a fire outside the church. Two charcoal fires were recalled, involving Peter, “the Rock” who crumbled like a piece of shale, and the risen Christ, who would re-create the scene to change the story from denial to welcome, forgiveness, and a commissioning to love.

Steve Shoemaker Verse, “The Charcoal Fire”

THE CHARCOAL FIRE

Charcoal Fire
Three times
Denial:

I do not know the man
I do not know the man
I do not know the man

Charcoal Fire
Three times
Forgiveness:

Do you love me?
Do you love me?
Do you love me?

Charcoal Fire
Three Times
Commission:

Feed my sheep
Feed my sheep
Feed my sheep

Steve Shoemaker
Urbana, IL
April 8, 2012

Gordon C. Stewart, author of Be Still! Departure from Collective Madness (2017 Wipf and Stock), edited and republished in memory of Steve Shoemaker. Steve is sitting on a Bristlecone Pine stump above the tree line in Colorado during a gathering of seminary friends. Mutual friend Anna Strong and canine companion stand by him.