intramuralist ™

Last weekend Hillary Clinton and NYC Mayor Bill de Blasio took part in a skit with Broadway actor, Leslie Odom Jr. Part of the brief exchange went as follows:

“Thanks for the endorsement, Bill. Took you long enough,” said Clinton.

“Sorry, Hillary. I was running on CP time,” de Blasio joked in response.

“That’s not – I don’t, I don’t like jokes like that, Bill,” said Odom, who is black.

Clinton then interjected the would be punchline, saying, “Cautious politician time. I’ve been there.”

Cautious politician time.

Note that “CP time” is also a reference to “colored people time,” a colloquial phrase stemming from the stereotype that black people are chronically late. Allow me to also add prior to any further processing that there exist three additional, significant factors in regard to this story… One, Clinton’s spouse, Bill, clashed with Black Lives Matters protestors in the days immediately preceding the event; two, the skit was scripted, not improv; and three, de Blasio’s wife actually is black.

Friends, Clinton and de Blasio were joking. Regardless of their intent, regardless of the awkwardness audio accounts affirm, the Mayor and presidential candidate have since faced increased scrutiny.

Such prompted this semi-humble current events observer to ask a few questions…

When is a joke funny?
When is it not?
When do we give the joke teller the benefit of the doubt?
When do we not?

Why do we give some people grace?
Why do we withhold it from others?
Why do we make an instant judgment about some joke tellers?
Why do we advise no rush to judgment about others?

How come we assume we know what some people’s motives are?
How come we aver there’s no way to know the motives of others?
How come we are forgiving of some?
How come we are merciless of others?

And my last question…

Why are we inconsistent in our assessment?

(Ok, so it’s more questions than a few.)

The bottom line is that Clinton and de Blasio were joking.

Even well intentioned jokes can be offensive, but my sense is we are somewhat inconsistent in what makes us laugh, what instead offends us, and how we react depending on who is telling the joke.

Wait… Allow me a brief P.S. today…

How do you make a tissue dance?

You put a little boogie in it.

(… ok, just joking, you know…)

Respectfully…
AR

Conflict is inevitable.

If you disagree, flip through Facebook, turn on the news, or ask anyone how they feel about a Clinton, Kardashian, or current, hot-button social issue. Geeeeesh.

We unfortunately live in a world full of conflict; it’s all around us… from all the partisan and social sites, where people generously proclaim how right they are and how wrong is another… where even the brightest among us forbiddingly call out others… It’s seemingly the current day manifestation of Dan Ackroyd and Jane Curtain’s iconic SNL “Point/Counterpoint” skit — just in a far less funny form.

Conflict is all around us.

Unfortunately, no less, we also often contribute to the discord. Sometimes we’re even responsible. Speaking solely for self — I must admit — sometimes I am part of the problem.

I have concluded that this yucky conflict stuff is thus unavoidable. As much as we may attempt to fast from social media and all the contemporary crud that fills the evening news flow, I don’t believe that conflict can be avoided. It isn’t always only witnessed on our computer screens; sometimes it hits closer to home; sometimes, in fact, it actually hits in our home.

I’ve been wrestling with now to navigate through conflict wisely — and how resolution can indeed occur.

Where do we start?

Part of the challenge is that we sometimes start by thinking, “maybe, if I just voice my opinion a little louder, the other person will finally understand”… as if we merely didn’t voice our opinion loud enough the first time.

(I’ve yet to meet a single person for whom that’s been effective.)

Still more of the challenge is that we sometimes start by thinking we can remedy the problem if we become firmer or sterner or lay down the heavy hand… “I’ll show him who’s boss. Does he not know who I am?!”…

(Again, not an effective conflict resolution tool.)

For years I’ve read the books of Carnegie and Covey, scouring the pages for the most efficacious remedy. Their words are wise…

“Seek first to understand — then to be understood.”

“Try to build bridges of understanding.”

“Could my opponents be right? Partly right? Is there truth or merit in their position or argument?”

“To solve our most difficult problems we must radically change our thinking.”

“Think Win-Win… look for the best outcome for all involved.”

I think each of those is excellent… understanding, forgiveness, empathy, respect…

But I also believe each begins from an initial position of brokenness — that humble, contagious, contrition… a contrition that’s born out of humility… a contrition that starts with self… a contrition that starts with “me.”

While it’s true that we don’t have to attend every argument we’re invited to, we cannot avoid conflict. We do, though, need to learn to respond more wisely — and thus, more effectively.

Respectfully…
AR

So my family and I just spent ten days on a trip South. We boated and played in the ocean, saw friends from home and friends who have so beautifully stood the test of time. I am most thankful. We enjoyed the water, sunshine, and all the treats that come from such an extended time away.

One of our favorite activities, renting a boat for a week, was taking the boat out, finding some small uninhabited island, carefully docking the boat, and then exploring the area together. Some of the animals and nature we saw were beautiful and intriguing. En route to one island one day, a trio of dolphins decided to playfully escort us along the way. There’s just something about being that close to those animals for that long that is special and sweet — again putting life in perspective.

Putting life in perspective, no less, ’tis time to go home. A week of leisure is a wonderful thing, but that week of rest, reflection, frolic, and fun prepares me for going home.

There are disciplines embraced at home that for lack of better ways to put it, make me good.

Now don’t let me sound as if I am any better than I am, nor that I can perform or work my way into any good or heavenly entrance. The bottom line is that there exist disciplines embedded into my daily routine that help me be healthy, happy, and hopefully, a positive contribution to the lives of those around me.

Years ago, I read a great book by author John Ortberg. He talked about developing disciplines “for ordinary people,” which sounded like an achievable accomplishment for this semi-humble, striving blogger. But what caught my attention was that such was only the sub-title. First he identified his set of disciplines as “The Life You’ve Always Wanted.”

(Let me be clear… if all it takes is buying some $15 book to get what I’ve always wanted, then that’s a price I’m willing to pay.)

Ortberg eliminates the potentially accompanying stress almost immediately, saying that as with the marathon runner, “the secret to winning the race lies not in trying harder, but in training consistently and training with spiritual disciplines.

The disciplines are neither taskmasters nor an end in themselves. Rather they are exercises that build strength and endurance for the road of growth.”

Who would not want such a road to growth?

Why else would everyone crave those stinkin’ 26.2 stickers on their bumper?

(Ok, ok, so the word “stinkin’” is only included because I’m jealous… and have come no where close to 26.2 yet…)

But it’s not a marathon. It’s not a singular race.

It’s not one race… succeed or fail.

The “life you’ve always wanted,” so-to-speak, as identified by Ortberg, is one paved with humor and humility. It’s encouraging and challenging all at the same time. It’s not always easy… but it is always worthwhile.

It allows us to live a deeper, more spiritual, connecting-with-others life, right where we are.

As Ortberg says, it’s “a life on the edge that fills an ordinary world with new meaning, hope, change, and joy.”

I’ll take that… new meaning, hope, change, and joy… I’ll take zealously pursuing what that actually is.

I’ll take the dolphins’ escort, too… all putting life into perspective.

Respectfully…
AR

So I’m getting a little tired of this seemingly expanding chicken/egg mentality.

You know the drill… Which came first? The chicken or the egg? It’s the causality dilemma connecting two processes, where the first process is understood to be partly responsible for the second.

In the proverbial pondering, no less, as to whether the fowl or its ovum was the first to exist, this question originally evoked in regard to how life began has been seemingly perverted to allow for an onslaught of lesser things…

Who first started the name calling?
Who first started the disrespect?
Who first lied?
Who first posted a flippant rant on Facebook?
Who first disregarded the opinion of another?
Who first infringed on the rights of someone else?
Who first failed to limit their spending?
Who first quit listening to the totality of their constituents?
Who first justified arrogance?
Who first believed that narcissism was an acceptable trait?

My point is that we often justify less than admirable behavior in ourselves or in others because someone else did it first — because some so-called “chicken” already existed.

My sense is that we would be a far wiser people group if we recognized that the answer to the question — which came first: the chicken or the egg — doesn’t matter. Whether or not the chicken or the egg was here first or even always existed does not change what’s right or wrong. Neither gives us license to behave in ways that are less than admirable…

There is no justification for lying…
No justification for disrespect…
No justification for withholding kindness…
No justification for disavowing empathy…
No justification for narcissism…

No justification.

Friends, this may be arguably the boldest statement the Intramuralist has ever put in print, but I believe it to be true: morality is not relative. What’s right or wrong and our code of ethics is not dependent on the people around us. “Everyone’s doing it” or “he did it first” is an insufficient justification that intelligent people get by with using way too often; it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t ethical and it is not wise. No one else is responsible for my bad behavior; “the first process” should not be “understood to be partly responsible for the second,” so-to-speak.

Still, for centuries people have continued to ponder the question: which came first? Aristotle concluded that both the bird and egg must have always existed. Plato concurred.

 And truthfully, as I imagine the animals peacefully paraded, one-by-one in front of Adam in the Garden of Eden — with Adam being given the unprecedented opportunity to name each amazing creature — I can’t see the great big God of the universe holding up some indiscriminate egg, saying, “So what’s this?” Hence, in my definite, limited reasoning, the chicken most certainly came first. 🙂

But the reality is that my opinion doesn’t matter. Whether the chicken came first doesn’t matter; in other words, such doesn’t have any affect on how we are called to behave now…

… as what is good and right and true does not depend on any who came or behaved poorly before.

Respectfully…
AR

I don’t know why sometimes bad things happen to good people. I don’t get it, understand it, nor typically, usually like it. I don’t know why perceived good things happen to some people and bad things happen to others. I don’t know why some people “have all the luck” and others seem to have close to none. I don’t know.

I do know that I am incapable of being the distributor of those good and bad things. I am incapable of leveling the playing field. And I am incapable of “playing god,” so-to-speak. I am not omniscient, omnipotent, nor anything close.

I have come to a place, when I don’t like the circumstances, where I know I must trust in God’s sovereignty — accepting what I cannot change, having courage to change what I can, and praying for the wisdom to know the difference.

I thank God for our blessings — for yours and for mine, recognizing they are different — and I ask for strength when life is hard or makes little sense — also, for you and for me. I try to thank God whenever I can… thanking him most, because he is trustworthy. He is omniscient and omnipotent, even though we are admittedly not.

I think we have a lot of trouble with that last phrase — that we are not omniscient and omnipotent. While there certainly is a time and a place to be bold and courageous and learn to fight for what’s right, sometimes I sense a demandingness which has permeated our pursuit; there’s a finger pointing that becomes more prominent than any self-examination. We become demanding. Demandingness seems to fly in the face of a sovereign God.

Recently, my family and I took an extended trip South. We were no further than 45 minutes from home, when the first potentially awful experience unfolded right before our eyes…

In five full lanes of traffic, near rush hour, at speeds in excess of 75 m.p.h. (shhh — don’t tell my mother), we were fairly close to bumper to bumper, when I first saw it. Three cars right in front of me, in the far left lane, the four door gold sedan got too far left, crossing over the pavement rumble strips on the side of the road. Overcorrecting, the driver lost control of his car, shooting him then too far right, at which time he was tagged and turned by an oncoming semi. He went across two more lanes of traffic, apparently then hit by another car.

Those of us who were behind had to decide instantaneously how to respond. Now semi-shaken, I dove left, also over the rumble strips, slamming on my brakes, praying not to hit the car in front of me or that the car immediately behind would ram into me. All five lanes came to an abrupt halt, with the driver seemingly ok, but significant pieces of the vehicle heavily strewn across the highway.

Still shaken, only six miles later, we were discussing how fortunate we were in that situation and how easily that could have been far worse. I then looked in my side mirror, only to see an SUV heading straight for me, about to make contact! I was now in the middle lane, with slightly lighter traffic, but the car was half in my lane, half in the far left lane; he was coming right at me!

I swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding contact. The SUV then flew right past me, with my impression that the driver seemed oblivious to the perilous scenario that was avoided, no thanks to him. He sped on by, with zero eye contact or acknowledgement, noticeably still drifting at a speed of over 80 m.p.h.

My spouse and I discerned that something must be wrong; hence, we made the decision to speed up, seeing if we could get a license plate number. But as soon as we made that decision, the black SUV slammed into the pickup in front of him! Again, we darted left to avoid the debris field; pieces from both vehicles now adorned the highway. Again — thank God — it looked like all were ok.

I don’t know why bad things happen to good people. I don’t know why sometimes we’re included and sometimes we’re narrowly not; sometimes I think we are far closer to being included than we will ever know. But I do humbly believe, as I did on the road recently, for example, that in all things, through the obvious blessings and obvious challenges, God is still sovereign.

There is a time to give thanks… and a time to ask for strength. I’m not sure there’s ever a time to become demanding.

Respectfully…
AR

Pondering the ancient scriptures on this global holiday… camping on one all of us know. I have two questions today…

“… A giant nearly ten feet tall stepped out from the Philistine line into the open, Goliath from Gath. He had a bronze helmet on his head and was dressed in armor — 126 pounds of it! He wore bronze shin guards and carried a bronze sword. His spear was like a fence rail — the spear tip alone weighed over fifteen pounds. His shield bearer walked ahead of him.

Goliath stood there and called out to the Israelite troops, ‘Why bother using your whole army? Am I not Philistine enough for you? … Pick your best fighter and pit him against me. If he gets the upper hand and kills me, the Philistines will all become your slaves. But if I get the upper hand and kill him, you’ll all become our slaves and serve us. I challenge the troops of Israel this day. Give me a man. Let us fight it out together!’

When Saul and his troops heard the Philistine’s challenge, they were terrified and lost all hope.

Enter David. He was the son of Jesse from Bethlehem in Judah. Jesse, the father of eight sons… David was the youngest son. While his three oldest brothers went to war with Saul, David went back and forth from attending to Saul to tending his father’s sheep in Bethlehem.

Each morning and evening for forty days, Goliath took his stand and made his speech.

One day… David was up at the crack of dawn and, having arranged for someone to tend his flock, took the food and was on his way just as Jesse had directed him. He arrived at the camp just as the army was moving into battle formation, shouting the war cry. Israel and the Philistines moved into position, facing each other, battle-ready. David left his bundles of food in the care of a sentry, ran to the troops who were deployed, and greeted his brothers. While they were talking together, the Philistine champion, Goliath of Gath, stepped out from the front lines of the Philistines, and gave his usual challenge. David heard him.

The Israelites, to a man, fell back the moment they saw the giant—totally frightened. The talk among the troops was, ‘Have you ever seen anything like this, this man openly and defiantly challenging Israel? The man who kills the giant will have it made. The king will give him a huge reward, offer his daughter as a bride, and give his entire family a free ride.’

David, who was talking to the men standing around him, asked, ‘What’s in it for the man who kills that Philistine and gets rid of this ugly blot on Israel’s honor? Who does he think he is, anyway, this uncircumcised Philistine, taunting the armies of God-Alive?’

They told him what everyone was saying about what the king would do for the man who killed the Philistine.

Eliab, his older brother, heard David fraternizing with the men and lost his temper: ‘What are you doing here! Why aren’t you minding your own business, tending that scrawny flock of sheep? I know what you’re up to. You’ve come down here to see the sights, hoping for a ringside seat at a bloody battle!’

‘What is it with you?’ replied David. ‘All I did was ask a question.’ Ignoring his brother, he turned to someone else, asked the same question, and got the same answer as before.
The things David was saying were picked up and reported to Saul. Saul sent for him.

‘Master,’ said David, ‘don’t give up hope. I’m ready to go and fight this Philistine.’

Saul answered David, ‘You can’t go and fight this Philistine. You’re too young and inexperienced—and he’s been at this fighting business since before you were born.’

David said, ‘I’ve been a shepherd, tending sheep for my father. Whenever a lion or bear came and took a lamb from the flock, I’d go after it, knock it down, and rescue the lamb. If it turned on me, I’d grab it by the throat, wring its neck, and kill it. Lion or bear, it made no difference—I killed it. And I’ll do the same to this Philistine pig who is taunting the troops of God-Alive. God, who delivered me from the teeth of the lion and the claws of the bear, will deliver me from this Philistine.’

Saul said, ‘Go. And God help you!’ ”

We know the rest of the story. The military leaders attempt to outfit David in armor; he resists, instead selecting five smooth stones from the nearby brook. When Goliath sees young David, he mocks and ridicules him even more. David is faithful. Man can never outdo God and what he would do. Hence, stones will beat a spear if God is the director of the stones. That’s how David beat the giant — with a sling and a stone… slinging it, hitting Goliath hard in the forehead, embedding the stone deeply.

So here are my two questions… First, recognize that no one encouraged David to do what he did. No one. There was no consensus. So question number one is: where are the “David’s” in life — where are those who are brave regardless of the behavior of the insulated groups around them? Does bravery only come via consensus?

And then, question number two: are we ever called to be the “David”?

Respectfully…
AR