intramuralist ™

If nothing else, call it an interesting alignment of events…

Monday is Martin Luther King Jr. Day, dedicated to the equality of all people, the service of others, and caring for their physical and spiritual needs. It’s “a day on, not a day off.” As his widow, Coretta Scott King once said, “The greatest birthday gift my husband could receive is if people of all racial and ethnic backgrounds celebrated the holiday by performing individual acts of kindness through service to others.”

Monday is also Inauguration Day, where President-elect Donald Trump will be sworn in for his second term as President of the United States. The Swearing-In Ceremony is set to start at noon, with a church service beforehand, luncheon following, and multiple balls to fill out the evening. For the first time in 40 years, the ceremony will be moved inside, due to the freezing cold weather. Note, too, that Presidents Biden, Obama, Bush and Clinton will each be in attendance.

Monday, too, is the College Football Playoff National Championship, the eleventh annual CFP crowning, but first under the 12 team format. It’s Ohio State’s Buckeyes vs. the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame. OSU last won the college football championship in 2014; the Irish haven’t won since 1988. Let me add a brief tangent. When former coach Brian Kelly left Notre Dame 3 years ago, leaving for the likes of LSU, he said, “I want to be in an environment where I have the resources to win a national championship.” Guess our perspectives aren’t always accurate. 

(And one more FYI, so that we omit hopefully no one, January 20th also serves as National DJ Day, National Cheese Lovers Day, and Penguin Awareness Day… go penguins, go.)

Each of the above is a “big deal,” so-to speak. What strikes me in their simultaneous occurrence is that we don’t all react the same way to them. In fact, suffice it to say, there is a whole plethora of varied reaction to MLK Day, Inauguration Day, and the CFP.

It’s not even one of those scenarios in which pretty much 80% of us all feel the same way. Not everyone is an admirer of Dr. King; some are still grieving the election of Donald Trump; and much of the country would prefer teams other than the fortunate midwestern two.

So what do we do when such a wide discrepancy of reaction exists?

It’s today’s zillion dollar question. And it just may be one of the biggest pockets of judgment even the intelligent allow. Let me explain…

There are many times a person reacts differently than we. It is thus absolutely, completely valid to say in such a moment, “I don’t understand.” A prudent, growth-mentality response would then seek to understand.

When dismissing the prudence, we pave the way for judgment. Instead of acknowledging a lack of understanding, we leap to judgment. For example…

“There’s no way an educated person could believe that… there’s no way a humble person could cheer for them… absolutely not should she be singing at the inauguration… if she really loved her country…”

Friends, it is completely ok to not understand and to not share the opinion of another. The judgment comes when we assume we know the only right response. Perhaps we don’t articulate it as such, but we often add a value assessment — as in “they aren’t bright, moral, objective, kind, compassionate, Christian, patriotic, you-name it.” We also imply that we are all that and more.

Sorry, but that’s naive. 

Often judgment embeds itself within an unknown naïveté. 

Let’s be sensitive to what we know and what we don’t… what reactions we share and those we don’t. Some of the January 20th events are easy for some — difficult for others. Some will pay lots of attention; some will pay none.

Note, too, only one day after, January 21st, it’s National Squirrel Appreciation Day. Can’t say I share the reactions of those who are exuberant. 

Guess I have more to seek to understand.

Respectfully…

AR

“Great results begin with great questions” — Marilee Adams in Change Your Questions, Change Your Life

I’ve long referred to the American University adjunct professor’s work as my favorite book. It probably, seemingly slightly influenced my perspective when a trusted friend gifted me a copy soon after it came out years ago, adding, “This is the way you think.”

Adams advocates that any of us can change our lives simply by changing the questions we ask, especially those we ask of ourselves. A quick provided example… note how “asking ‘what great things could happen today?’ creates very different expectations, moods, and energy than asking ‘what could go wrong today?’” Amen to that. 

For example, from Adams:

1. What do I want? 
2. What are my choices?
3. What assumptions am I making?
4. What am I responsible for?
5. How else can I think about this?
6. What is the other person thinking, feeling, and wanting?
7. What am I missing or avoiding?
8. What can I learn? … from this person or situation? … from this mistake or failure? … from this success?
9. What action steps make the most sense?
10. What questions should I ask (myself or others)?
11. How can I turn this into a win-win?
12. What’s possible?

I find those to be excellent. I think often, in fact, of the tribal social media hang outs where someone will make a claim, another will respectfully ask question #5 — “how else can we think about this?” — and another will immediately shout them down and attempt to drown them out. That’s neither healthy nor mature.

Adams encourages us in a wiser way, noting that questions invite conversation. As we like to say, the question mark is the only punctuation piece that invites a response (albeit the semi-colon has a bit of an argument here). 

Such is why we often examine the questions that are being asked in current culture. Elsewhere…

Too many shout. (Really? Who wants to listen to that?)

Too many declare. (Yikes. Did they forget the value in humility?)

Too many blame. (Oh my. As Adams writes, “Blame keeps us stuck in the past.”)

So as we look to 2025, here are some questions we’re asking — each sincere, though marked by diverse levels of seriousness:

1. When will the fires end? And what will we do differently after they’re done?
2. How will the economy fare in 2025? What will happen with inflation and interest rates?
3. Will America’s southern border become more secure, and will government find a way to work together, crafting a prudent, effective immigration approach?
4. How will Pres. Trump surprise us? Now that there’s nothing more to “win,” will he execute his duties differently?
5. Can America’s deficit spending issue be fixed as long both Social Security and Medicare are currently each forecasted to be insolvent in the next 12 years?
6. Will peace pause the Ukraine/Russia and Israel/Hamas conflicts? Would a cease-fire solve the long-term conflicts, especially in Israel?
7. Will a reasonable third party become more popular here?
8. Will America’s divisiveness decrease? A better question: what will it take?
9. Will the Chiefs win the Super Bowl for a third time in a row?
10. And if so, will Travis ask Taylor to marry him?

Just asking questions, friends.

Of course, we have more. We’ll get to those soon…

Respectfully…

AR

… five football fields every minute…

I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around that reality for days now, watching the fires continue to engulf Southern California. Such is how fast authorities said the fire was initially spreading with zero containment at the time.

What an awful, awful thing.

The numbers are mind-boggling… the extent of the destruction… tens of thousands of acres burned… hundreds of thousands evacuated… still going…

When we experience awful things, we react. Fast and furiously, we want it to stop; we want to see it no more; no more hurt; and while so often there is nothing we can do, we feel helpless and find ways to react. And one of the fastest ways to react — even with the ongoing awful — is to blame a singular person.

I get it.

Blame is fast. It’s easy. And a singular individual or entity gives us a target at which to conveniently direct all of our emotion. It just may not be entirely accurate.

Let’s face it; much has contributed to California’s catastrophe. To suggest that this is all the result of climate change is an exercise in magnanimous naïveté.

To start with, greater Los Angeles was experiencing drought conditions. According to the Los Angeles Times, “The last time Los Angeles recorded rainfall over a tenth of an inch — the threshold that officials typically consider helpful for thirsty plants and the reduction of wildfire risk — was May 5, when downtown received just 0.13 inches of rain.”

Then came the Santa Ana dry winds — those that sweep down from the deserts and across the Southern California coast — which were said to be “supersized.” Topography played a role. Humidity was low. Then, too, multiple other aspects factored into both the initial and comprehensive response… land and forest management… fire department budget cuts… budget prioritization of other things… water availability… dry hydrants… ambiguous evacuation plans… emergency preparedness… inaccurate alert systems… etc. etc.

But… (Follow me here…)

Some of my friends who’ve come to a solid, Judeo-Christian faith have found their way there because of a simple, binary equation. They see evil on this Earth. They have no doubt evil is real. And they thus know a greater good must exist in order to counteract (and be victorious over) the evil.

One of the ways, no less, evil is alive and well is how satan — sorry, I don’t believe his name deserves capitalization — but how satan tempts us to focus on the wrong things at the right time.

Yes, in the current catastrophe, people certainly made mistakes. Yes, we might not like all the politics involved. True, we trust (rightly or wrongly) some politicians more than others. But the bottom line at this very moment in time is that the enormous problem needs to be solved. The fires need to be extinguished. People need help. They need our physical assistance and our heartfelt prayers. 

It matters not if the people are rich or poor, citizen or immigrant, celebrity or not. It matters not if you like them or not. Those affected by the fire need our prayers. Hence, it would be wisest to put our energies there.

The time for evaluation will come. Until then, let’s withhold casting any rhetorical stones, focusing first and foremost on the biggest problem at hand.

Respectfully…

AR

One more thing… straight from the founder of Facebook himself…

“Hey everyone. I want to talk about something important today because it’s time to get back to our roots around free expression on Facebook and Instagram. I started building social media to give people a voice. I gave a speech at Georgetown five years ago about the importance of protecting free expression, and I still believe this today, but a lot has happened over the last several years.

There’s been widespread debate about the potential harms from online content. Governments and legacy media have pushed to censor more and more. A lot of this is clearly political, but there’s also a lot of legitimately bad stuff out there. Drugs, terrorism, child exploitation. These are things that we take very seriously, and I want to make sure that we handle responsibly. So we built a lot of complex systems to moderate content, but the problem with complex systems is they make mistakes even if they accidentally censor just 1% of posts.

That’s millions of people, and we’ve reached a point where it’s just too many mistakes and too much censorship. The recent elections also feel like a cultural tipping point towards, once again, prioritizing speech. So, we’re going to get back to our roots and focus on reducing mistakes, simplifying our policies, and restoring free expression on our platforms…

We’re going to simplify our content policies and get rid of a bunch of restrictions on topics like immigration and gender that are just out of touch with mainstream discourse. What started as a movement to be more inclusive has increasingly been used to shut down opinions and shut out people with different ideas, and it’s gone too far…

We’re changing how we enforce our policies to reduce the mistakes that account for the vast majority of censorship on our platforms. We used to have filters that scanned for any policy violation. Now, we’re going to focus those filters on tackling illegal and high-severity violations, and for lower-severity violations, we’re going to rely on someone reporting an issue before we take action. The problem is that the filters make mistakes, and they take down a lot of content that they shouldn’t…

Now we have the opportunity to restore free expression, and I’m excited to take it. It’ll take time to get this right, and these are complex systems. They’re never going to be perfect. There’s also a lot of illegal stuff that we still need to work very hard to remove. But the bottom line is that after years of having our content moderation work focused primarily on removing content, it is time to focus on reducing mistakes, simplifying our systems, and getting back to our roots about giving people voice. I’m looking forward to this next chapter. Stay good out there, and more to come soon.”

Thanks, Zuck. Yes, thanks to Mark Zuckerberg for his acknowledgement this week that “the fact-checkers have just been too politically biased… it’s gone too far.”

Kudos, too, to the many of you who sent me articles on this development… and also, to the one who shared that I can now take some satisfaction in being one of the last to be censored by Meta.

Let me be clear. When Facebook chose to remove our post 10+ days ago — and not to restore it — I don’t think they were after me, so-to-speak. I don’t think there was any malicious motive nor nefarious intent specifically targeting us. For those unfamiliar with our journey, we wrote about the clear cover up of the mental decline of two of our elect, one being the sitting President of the United States. There exist valid questions as to the extent and length of his incapacitation and in regard to whom has actually been running the federal government. Facebook removed our respectful post, stating the content was “misleading.” There was an attempt to repost; it was also removed. There was no response to our subsequent appeal.

I don’t believe Facebook was after me. But what I do believe, echoing Zuckerberg, is that fact-checking has become too political; it morphs truth into subjectivity; and prompts way too many to fall prey to a narrative saying “we need to shut diverse perspective down.”

Naturally, we disagree with such an assertion. We believe the wisest way forward is to have the conversation.

Respectfully, of course.

AR

For the first time in the 16+ year existence of the Intramuralist, Facebook removed our post from their page. The explanation was that the content shared was “misleading.” Said Meta/FB: “The post may contain misleading links or content.” It was said to go against their “community standards on spam.” They state that they “only remove things or restrict people to keep the community respectful and safe.”

Looks like we will start this year with the things that make you go hmmm…

Since November of 2008 we have spoken of many things… sports, politics, Econ, ecology… People have been plenty, too… Caitlin Clark, Colin Kaepernick, Walter Cronkite, all the Bush’s and Obama’s… We’ve dished out both fair criticism and high praise; we’ve been on the understandable receiving end of such, too. We’ve been called too conservative, too liberal, too Christian, too not. The point has always been to prompt dialogue, albeit respectful dialogue at that. We have never advocated for concordant nor tribal thinking. My sense is a reverent give-and-take is an increasingly lost art. Not only is it a lost art, so-to-speak, many also find it pointless and paltry. Hence, if we can encourage gracious, considerate discourse — even and especially among the unlikeminded — we believe that to be a meaningful thing.

To thus call our post “misleading” is fascinating to me. Allow us to recapitulate the content…

The intended post led by pointing out the cognitive decline and potential dementia of the sitting US President and a sitting US congresswoman. Based on reporting by The Wall Street Journal, questions were asked as to why they are still in office, why they are only reporting in detail now, and who has covered up for them. Noting that the two represent separate political parties, also noted was that (1) both parties have been engaged in deception and (2) the media is complicit; they only tell us what they want us to know.

Let me respectfully, therefore, disagree with Facebook: there is nothing misleading about our post. On the same day we attempted to share our post, on Sunday’s “Face the Nation,” chief legal and political correspondent for CBS, Jan Crawford, referred to Pres. Biden’s “obvious cognitive decline” as the most under-covered and underreported news story of the year.

Which leads me to again ask…

What did we say that was untrue? 

What automated algorithm did we hit that the media doesn’t want us to say?

Why remove our post?

Why not promote respectful dialogue?

And why be dishonest in suggesting our content is something that it’s not?

Agree or disagree that one party’s behavior is more egregious, that’s a perspective worthy of discussion. Desiring to point out the questionable mental stability of other leaders, also valid. But disallowing the noted cover up of cognitive impairment in the current, in-office elect is not based on any content that’s misleading, especially when such, with absolutely all due respect, includes the highest office in our land. If the Executive Office holder is incapacitated, that is an indubitable, disquieting conversation needed to be had. Who’s been running the country? For how long? How bad is it? And is that what the media wishes we not even discuss?

It seems timely, therefore, to note the prudence found in the words of the ever articulate, albeit oft morally repugnant Tyrion Lannister, the youngest child of Lord Tywin Lannister, in the ever popular, “Game of Thrones.” Says Lannister, “If you tear out a man’s tongue, you’re not proving him a liar; you’re only telling the world you fear what he might say.”

True, Lannister is a fictional character, but it’s amazing how much truth fiction so often provides.

Respectfully..

AR

No doubt those college days years ago were filled to the brim with prime learning. We didn’t know what we didn’t know, and while the classroom shaped our professional ambition, the moments outside the classroom grew us up. As beloved roommates Bridge and Nolan will still gleefully attest, I would oft awake after a perceived poor choice declaring myself to be “a new person.” It would go something like this…

“I just want you to know, I am a new person today!” said with great confidence and joy and a grin spread seemingly from ear to ear.

A month would go by. Maybe only a few weeks some seasons, and a new day would dawn… “I just want you to know, I am a new, new person today!’ 

And with each relational setback or moment of regret, I would add one more “new” to the previous declaration. 

We laughed a lot those days, days in which we learned all sorts of everything from the lack of nutritional value at “breakfast club” to how to compare one’s communication skills to the stoicism of the foyer’s red, velvet bench. 

We laughed then. We laugh still now. How beautiful it is when joy permeates life.

But I think one of the things I learned all those years ago is clearly foundational to the joy that coincides with the onset of another new year…

It’s a new year… a clean slate… a time to begin anew…

What new things do I wish to accomplish?

Where do I wish to grow in the year ahead?

What would I like to do differently?

And also… including a brief focus on others…

What relationships would I like to see improve?

Who can I treat better?

Of whom do I need to be more respectful?

Whether formalized via individual resolution, the turning of the calendar provides a pivot from all that was. That doesn’t mean it’s easy, the past is erased, nor we always move forward with bells on. But what it does provide is a renewed sense of hope, confidence and joy. This is a different year. We can be different, too.

Back in those college days, as the declarative statement grew in adjectival length, Bridge and Nolan and I would chuckle. There was always grace… encouragement, too. But somewhere along the line I think we realized that the added “news” were not negative. In fact, they were evidence of growth, evidence of learning — and yes, so much outside the classroom. 

What a beautiful thing…

Happy new year, friends!

May your “news” ever increase. May 2025 be one brimming with hope, confidence and joy. I look forward to what we will humbly discover together in the year to come.

Blessings…

AR

As I was pondering our collective close to 2024, I contemplated the year’s most significant stories… 

…the November election… the House hearings on antisemitism that triggered 2 Ivy League president resignations… the campus protests… Bill Belichick parting ways with New England… the partial collapse of the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore… the total solar eclipse… the emergence of Caitlin Clark… Trump shot… hurricanes Helene and Milton making their presence known…The Eras Tour end… Big Lots, Joann (Fabrics), Party City, Red Lobster, Spirit Airlines, TGIFridays, True Value and Tupperware filing for bankruptcy… Shannen Doherty, Teri Garr, James Earl Jones, Joe Lieberman, Willie Mays, Liam Payne, Pete Rose, OJ Simpson, Jerry West and more passing away… Israel and Hamas, Ukraine and Russia (and also more) still fighting…

Still, from my limited vantage point, my sense is there is a bigger story embedded in the year that was. And I must admit, when take one was written, our focus was far too narrow. We originally began with a sensitive but reasonable story about the Executive Office of the President. It wasn’t about age nor clearly a stutter. One of the biggest stories of 2024 was the cover up of the mental decline of our sitting President. As recently reported by The Wall Street Journal, based on their interviews with nearly 50 people who either participated in or had direct knowledge of White House operations…

“… Presidents always have gatekeepers. But in Biden’s case, the walls around him were higher and the controls greater, according to Democratic lawmakers, donors and aides who worked for Biden and other administrations. There were limits over who Biden spoke with, limits on what they said to him and limits around the sources of information he consumed. Throughout his presidency, a small group of aides stuck close to Biden to assist him, especially when traveling or speaking to the public. ‘They body him to such a high degree,’ a person who witnessed it said, adding that the ‘hand holding’ is unlike anything other recent presidents have had…

…The president’s slide has been hard to overlook. While preparing last year for his interview with Robert K. Hur, the special counsel who investigated Biden’s handling of classified documents, the president couldn’t recall lines that his team discussed with him. At events, aides often repeated instructions to him, such as where to enter or exit a stage, that would be obvious to the average person… The strategies to protect Biden largely worked—until June 27, when Biden stood on an Atlanta debate stage with Trump, searching for words and unable to complete his thoughts on live television…

Biden, staffed with advisers since he became a senator at age 30, came to the White House with a small team of fiercely loyal, long-serving aides who knew him and Washington so well that they could be particularly effective proxies. They didn’t tolerate criticism of Biden’s performance or broader dissent within the Democratic Party…

Interactions between Biden and many of his cabinet members were relatively infrequent and often tightly scripted… Over four years, Biden held nine full cabinet meetings…

In the fall of 2023, Biden faced a major test when Hur, the special counsel, wanted to interview him… The actual interview didn’t go well. Transcripts showed multiple blunders, including that Biden didn’t initially recall that in prep sessions he had been shown his own handwritten memo arguing against a surge of troops in Afghanistan. The report—one of just a few lengthy interviews with Biden over the past four years—concluded with a recommendation that Biden not be prosecuted for having classified documents in his home because a jury was likely to view him as a ‘sympathetic, well-meaning elderly man with a poor memory.’”

There was indeed some level of deception, a deception that prompts the following reasonable, respectful questions: why is Pres. Biden still President? Why is this only coming out now? And who covered up for him? 

But as I’ve thought a little longer, I think the above focus is too narrow. 

In recent weeks we also became aware that Rep. Kay Granger (R-TX, age 81) hasn’t been present in Congress since July. Instead she’s been residing in an assisted living facility in Fort Worth. Upon investigation, a family member responded that Granger has been “having some dementia issues late in the year.”

So again, we ask: why is Rep. Granger still in the House? Why is this only coming out now? And who covered up for her?

It’s clear the deception isn’t limited to a singular party, although sometimes, that’s hard for us to admit. It’s also clear, no less, that each party’s denial leads to a bigger question: is it any wonder we have collectively lost significant respect in the parties? With all due respect, they covered up the decline of Pres. Biden, Rep. Granger, and possibly more. The media was also complicit. Each tells us only what they want us to know.

Here’s to a better 2025. Hoping for increased honesty from all in the year to come.

Respectfully…

AR

Without a doubt, Christmas is a special time to me and many. It is the celebration of the birth of the Christ child. As we have long said, it’s an opportunity to stop, slow down, and give thanks… to give thanks for the hope, peace, joy and love found in Jesus.

While I have great respect for those who don’t have a relationship with Jesus, I do wish that hope, peace, joy and love for each in humankind. Such is why at Christmas, we typically retell the reason behind the writing of the iconic classic, “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” Perhaps you know the song…

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men…

The song was penned by Charles Appleton Longfellow — known as “Charley” to family and friends. I’ll be brief, but as documented here previously, suffice it so say, his life was hard…

He was the oldest of six and the son of celebrated American poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Home life was hard, as his mother died when he was 16 when her dress flukily caught on fire.

Charles joined the army to fight in the Civil War. He swiftly impressed his fellow soldiers and superiors. Hear the rest as written several years ago by Justin Taylor, Crossway Sr. VP & publisher, putting life into perspective…

After participating on the fringe of the Battle of Chancellorsville in Virginia (April 30-May 6, 1863), Charley fell ill with typhoid fever and was sent home to recover. He rejoined his unit on August 15, 1863, having missed the Battle of Gettysburg.

While dining at home on December 1, 1863, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow received a telegram that his son had been severely wounded four days earlier. On November 27, 1863, while involved in a skirmish during a battle of the Mine Run Campaign, Charley was shot through the left shoulder, with the bullet exiting under his right shoulder blade. It had traveled across his back and skimmed his spine. Charley avoided being paralyzed by less than an inch.

He was carried into New Hope Church (Orange County, Virginia) and then transported to the Rapidan River. Charley’s father and younger brother, Ernest, immediately set out for Washington, D.C., arriving on December 3. Charley arrived by train on December 5. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was alarmed when informed by the army surgeon that his son’s wound “was very serious” and that “paralysis might ensue.” Three surgeons gave a more favorable report that evening, suggesting a recovery that would require him to be “long in healing,” at least six months.

On Christmas day, 1863, Longfellow—a 57-year-old widowed father of six children, the oldest of which had been nearly paralyzed as his country fought a war against itself—wrote a poem seeking to capture the dynamic and dissonance in his own heart and the world he observes around him. He hears the Christmas bells and the singing of “peace on earth” (Luke 2:14) but observes the world of injustice and violence that seemed to mock the truth of this statement. The theme of listening recurs throughout the poem, leading to a settledness of confident hope even in the midst of bleak despair…

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Till, ringing singing, on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men!

Respectfully… with hope… always…

AR

Three days before Christmas, and throughout the globe and entire nation, we’re prepping for the holidays, and all the celebration. 

Families will gather, missing loved ones with care, knowing deep down we wish, we could join together somewhere. 

We get to the place in which we poetically speak of the clatter, but this day we speak of the most beautiful matter…

Know what we like most about this season? … or at least the days beforehand and the week before us? I speak of Christmas Eve to New Year’s — with Hanukkah in between… 

There are stories and stockings and visions of sugar-plums in our heads… there are latkes and lights and all sorts of little elves on the shelves… there are cheesecakes and chestnuts and candlelight church services…

It is such a time of merry… such a time of glee. It indeed seems a season of a string of holy nights.

So a couple of permeating thoughts in these nights before Christmas…

First, I think one of the things I like best is that we slow down.

When I relocated some seven years ago, one of the wisest men I know and one of the wisest women I know — older and unrelated to one another — each gave me a set of books, but both gave me a book on intentional rest. Slowing down. Being still. My sense is there was something they wanted me to know…

There is wisdom in being still. It allows us to reflect; it allows us to ponder; and it diminishes our embedded temptation to over-react. Sometimes in current day culture, I think a lot of our polarization and division is because we perch; we pounce; and we jump right in with our immediate perspective. We don’t take the time to be still, know God, and do our due diligence in siphoning out the sagacity in perspectives other than our own. Such is where we fall prey to bias, adopt black-and-white thinking, and/or conclude solely one has cornered the market on morality. 

Stillness is one of life’s absolute best, healthiest practices. I’m excited in the week ahead, that many of us will choose to be still.

Second, no less, let us acknowledge that while it is indeed a time of merry and glee, not every moment surrounding the holidays feels so holly and jolly. There is loneliness. There is grief in regard to those we miss, those no longer here. And there are gatherings that oft include relationships we find difficult to navigate. Here is where we’re confronted with another one of life’s poignant realities; sometimes we find ourselves feeling seemingly competing emotions at the exact same time.

It all makes sense. And so we ponder…

Peace on Earth… 

Goodwill toward men… women… and all humankind…

Glory to God in the highest!

So much to think upon, my friends.

So grateful for this time to be still…

Respectfully…

AR

The line was long. We got in place about 2 hours and 5 minutes before the show was set to begin, notably longer than our usual behavior. Can’t say I’m a particular fan of long lines. This one I really didn’t mind, however. We’ll get to that.

One of the things that I think is very important is to unequivocally honor all people where they are in respect to religion and faith. As said often here, we are no one’s Holy Spirit. Not only are we not in that role, we are also completely incapable of such. It’s foolish to think we are somehow able to serve as someone else’s convicter of truth.

That said, Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, born in Bethlehem some 2,000 years ago. It’s telling that his birth is not debated in Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, the Baháʼí Faith and more. 

But because we individually debate Christ’s prominence in our own lives, discerning what a personal relationship with the proclaimed Son of God might actually look like, sometimes we struggle with how to handle Christmas collectively.

Do we water it down? … can we still celebrate? … can we still say the name of Jesus?

Such is the basis for the “happy holidays/merry Christmas” quandary. There is zero wrong with wishing another’s holidays to be happy. The problem arises when it’s mandated that “merry Christmas” is not to be said… or in the town square, the nativity scene cannot exist in a public place… or at school, where Christmas cookies are an explicit no-no… All this even though Jesus is named in the holiday, thus the clear reason for the season.

I think that’s one of our current societal challenges. Sometimes we think that in order to honor another, a differing opinion cannot be expressed in their presence. Friends, I’m not so sure that’s honoring; that’s simply pretending that other opinions don’t exist. 

Saying “merry Christmas,” displaying a nativity scene, therefore — those are no attempts to dishonor or disrespect. Those are celebrations consistent with what the holiday is actually about.

So it’s caused question in me in recent years, when persons are ok with Rudolph and Frosty and Santa and all the elves, but not with Jesus… even though Rudolph and Frosty and Santa and all the elves don’t find any of their names listed on the calendar for December 25th. Sometimes it’s as if we refuse to say the name of Christ, the first whole syllable of the holiday. In some places, with absolutely all due respect, it seems harder to say than in others.

Hence, the other night, it was time for one of our favorite December activities, the annual Candlelight Processional at Disneyworld. 

Every year a mass choir, 50+ piece orchestra, fanfare trumpets and more gather at EPCOT’s America Gardens Theatre to share tidings of comfort and great joy with the public. The beloved show features various celebrity narrators, some who come most every year — i.e. Neil Patrick Harris, Gloria Estefan, Whoopi Goldberg, and Gary Sinise. What does each read boldly, publicly? This diverse celebrity group?

The story of the birth of Jesus Christ.

We got in line at 4:40pm for the 6:45pm show; there was another show before then. But the amphitheater holds a little less than 2,000 people, and there were far more than that in line. There was such a joy, such an enthusiasm, regardless of the wait. People were so excited to be there.

When we were finally seated — awaiting Ralph Macchio, the original “Karate Kid” — his first time here — the orchestra soon began by playing “O Come, All Ye Faithful”…

O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem… O come and behold Him, born the King of Angels, O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord…

I’ll admit, a few tears rolled down my face. Still absolutely respecting of all people, it’s simply meaningful to see things not watered down.

Respectfully…

AR