INVESTMENT CHOICES

The November 9th issue of USA Today had an interesting article about investments. Our choice of investments can have a profound effect on whether or not there will be any money remaining in later retirement years.

First, you have to determine your level of risk. If you will only sleep well at night with your money in bank CDs, then you must be content with a 6% or 7% rate of return in today's market. With bank CDs, your deposits are guaranteed by the FDIC.

The next level of risk is mutual funds. Your deposit is not guaranteed, and you could potentially watch your assets go down. Within each mutual fund family is everything from very low risk to high risk. If someone is very conservative or elderly, I recommend a fund that buys U.S. government securities. They usually return about 5%, although at times in the past the return has been higher.

After that would be a fund that blends bonds and stocks, called a balanced fund. They usually have about 30% bonds, 60% stocks, and 10% cash. When stocks go down, bonds tend to go up, and the reverse is true as well. This provides at least some protection in a volatile market such as we have today. In fact, if you have limited investment funds, I consider the balanced fund to be the ideal investment. Historically, a balanced fund will return 8 to 10%

If you like to take risks and are young, then you can take your chances and invest in a mutual fund that invests in anything from overseas emerging markets to gold. The risks are high, and the potential for gain (and loss) is greater. It's not unusual to have a 50% gain or loss in one year.

The place to begin saving for retirement is in a Roth IRA. You can start one for as little as $50 monthly, and choose the mutual fund you want to use. There is a cap, however, on how much you can put into a Roth IRA. For tax year 2008, the maximum is $5,000 if you are under age 50, and $6,000 if you are over 50. Each spouse must have their own IRA. The money that accumulates will never be subject to income tax. It's the best thing since sliced bread!

I don't recommend buying individual stocks unless you are committed to following the advice of Warren Buffett--buy and hold forever. Otherwise, the risk of loss is too great.

I especially don't recommend getting into options, or paying money to go to a seminar to learn how to day trade. They are appealing to your greed, and they are the ones making money on you.

Once you have reached retirement, you can calculate how much you can safely withdraw by following the 4% rule. That is, never take out more than 4% of your total assets in any given year. That will safeguard your investments over your lifetime, and you will most likely be able to pass on money to your children.

Don't delay planning your future.

THE RIVER OF DOUBT

Several months ago I highlighted Endurance. It was an epic battle of man against nature. At the time, Brad suggested I read The River of Doubt, by Candice Millard. It is a riveting story centering around Theodore Roosevelt's journey down an unexplored river through the Amazon jungles of Brazil in 1914. The expedition was led by Candido Mariano da Salva Rondon, one of Brazil's greatest heroes.

You would think that battling the jungle would be stressful enough, but they also had to contend with a murderer in their midst. Roosevelt's description of the piranaha makes me shiver. He writes, "The head with it's short muzzle, staring malignant eyes, and gaping, cruelly armed jaws, is the embodiment of evil ferocity; and the actions of the fish exactly match its looks."

There is another description of a tiny, almost transparent catfish known as the candiru. They are only about an inch long, and survive solely on blood. They feed in the gill chambers of larger fish, and drop off after having eaten their fill. However, they can be lethal to humans in the wrong circumstances. Candice Millard describes the following:

"In this case, however, the victim reported that, just before the attack, he had been standing in a river urinating, but the water had reached only to his upper thighs, and his penis had not even touched the river, much less been submerged in it. The candiru, he claimed, had abruptly leapt out of the water, shimmied up his urine stream, and disappeared into his urethra. He had made a desperate lunge for the fish, but it was too fast and too slippery. The incident occurred in a small town more than a hundred miles from Manaos, and the local doctors had been at a loss to help the man. By the time he was finally moved to Manaos for treatment, he had been unable to urinate for more than a week, and his stomach has become so distended that he looked six months pregnant. The doctor who eventually operated on him was able to successfully remove the candiru--without resorting to amputation."

Roosevelt survived the journey, but just barely. Through the latter part of the journey bacterial infections and malaria made an almost lethal combination. He never completely regained his health, and died just four years later at the age of 60.

This book is primarily a tribute to Roosevelt. He was a man of courage and iron discipline. As a child he was plagued by asthma, but used harsh physical exercise to conquor his weaknesses. He followed this formula for the rest of his life, and after major setbacks or disappointments, would often retreat into great adventures and will himself to prevail.

Like Endurance, this is a study of leadership. Rondon lead this journey, and Roosevelt would defer to his decisions, but sometimes there would be heated exchanges. The two men had great respect for one another, and after returning to the states, Roosevelt called Rondon one of the four most accomplished explorers of his day.

I have purposely not commented on the good parts. Otherwise, why would you want to read it?

BUYING STUFF

J.R. introduced me to this video from SNL. Steve Martin is a great comedian. I've had a lot of fun sharing it with others, so check it out if you haven't seen Don't Buy Stuff you Can't Afford. I showed it to a class I teach at church on managing finances. I also played it for my LeTip group. They are all highly motivated, self-employed business people, so it struck a chord with them as well. I think there is a certain aspect of crowd behavior that happens in a group when this video is shown. If you really do have money issues you would be compelled to pretend you don't and laugh right along with everyone else. So if you comment, tell me if you are laughing because it's funny, or laughing because it hurts.

SPACE

Growing up in the country, I had the privilege of seeing the stars at night. In the Spring I would sometimes accompany my dad as he made sure all the sprinkers were functioning properly, thereby keeping the cranberries from freezing.


Those clear, cold nights allowed a good view of our milky way galaxy. In addition to individual stars, you can't take your eyes off the white splash all across the center of the sky--like milk.


On summer nights I used to lay on my back in the grass and think about distance.
Our galaxy is about 100,000 light years across, with about 100 billion stars,
and a black hole in the center with a mass of approximately 3 million solar masses. Within range of our radio telescopes we know there are about 100


billion galaxies. Who knows how many are beyond that?


If we traveled to the nearest star at the speed of light, it would take
4 years just to get there. I used to hope that someday I would be able to at
least visit other parts of our galaxy, but unfortunately God put the stars
too far apart for that to happen. Oh well. Not in this life.

WITH THE OLD BREED

E.B. Sledge "Sledgehammer" served with the U.S. Marines in the South Pacific in WWII. If you have any doubts that war is hell, they will be gone by the time you finish this book. Sledgehammer faithfully wrote notes each day on whatever paper he could find, and many years after combat he found partial emotional healing by writing this book. I have no personal memories which allow me to relate to his experiences. All I have is secondhand stories from my friend Winston who also served with the Marines twenty five years later in Vietnam.

Halfway through the book, he makes an interesting comment:

None of us would ever be the same after what we had endured. To some degree that is true, of course, of all human experience. But something died in me at Peleliu. Perhaps it was a childish innocence that accepted as faith the claim that man is basically good. Possibly I lost faith that politicians in high places who do not have to endure war's savagery will ever stop blundering and sending others to endure it.

Have you ever had an experience that changed the way you look at life? If not war, perhaps a debilitating illness, an accident, or the death of someone close?

How did it change you? Was it a positive or a negative change?

GOOD RADIO

Erin recently introduced me to a web site that plays your choice of music 24 hours a day. So far, I have chosen stations playing Ramsey Lewis, Gregorian chants, Rammstein, Techno, Kenny G, Hillsong, soft piano, bluegrass, and Flatt and Scruggs. I'm still adding stations. There is a random play option. I like that, because I get tired of just one genre. It's quite an experience to go from Gregorian chants right into Rammstein. Try it here and give me some feedback.

THE SUCCESS SYSTEM THAT NEVER FAILS

W. Clement Stone founded the Combined Insurance Company of America. Along the way he inspired millions to be successful in their business. His book, The Success System That Never Fails is full of advice nuggets for the wanna-be business person. They really are nuggets. After reading this book, you will want to get out of bed in the morning and go to work. You'll be inspired with ideas that will grow your business. You're attitude will truly take a turn for the better. The positive effects will be realized by increased productivity, sales, and income. If you want to know the nuggets, read the book. Do not read more than one chapter per day. One chapter per week is better. Take notes, and apply the principles to your business. I know it works, because I read it 30 years ago.

CONFLICT

What is the root of conflict? We have conflict between individuals, within families, between clans, states, and nations. I see bumper stickers that say "Why can't we just all get along?" The prevailing viewpoints are that mankind is either basically evil, or basically good. The "evil" outlook is rooted in Judeo-Christian teaching, and the "good" perspective is a more recent addition since the enlightenment. What do you think? Will our future be like Star Trek or The Apocolypse? Perhaps it will follow the storyline of H.G. Wells Time Machine, and we will have one, followed by the other.


Perhaps the root of conflict is that we want to control others. When they don't do what we want, we get angry. We see conflict in preschool when children fight over toys. I think the weapons just get more sophisticated as we grow older.


I often tell Lin that the world would be a better place if everyone would just do what I say. Who are you in conflict with? Is it because they are a jerk, or are you the jerk? Has anyone ever used guilt or manipulation to make you feel like a jerk, when they are the one who is the real jerk? How do you get past that?


Have you ever found yourself in a relationship with conflict? How did you resolve it?

THE DYING HOBBY

I obtained my amateur radio license in 1960. (I was 12 at the time.) It's an old hobby, starting with the advent of radio. However, it is now a struggling hobby. The bright minds have been drawn away by the lure of building computers, programming, and hacking into cell phones. My first experience was putting together a Knight Kit. It was an AM 60-watt transmitter and a companion receiver. I soldered every joint. When it was completed, the receiver didn't seem to work well, so my dad and I took it to one of the hams in town who had a lot of electronic expertise. Once he studied the schematic and corrected a few of my errors, it worked fine. We lived on a cranberry farm so I had the luxury that few hams have; room for an awesome antenna. I strung up a 120 foot long wire pointed directly at Southern California. Needless to say, my signal reports from California and Nevada were outstanding. I had a Novice license and all communication was by Morse code. Single sideband replaced AM, so after college I unpacked the T-60 and sold it to a coastal fisherman who said he could use it on the commercial fishing band. Now I own a Kenwood. I keep it in the garage for those rainy Saturdays when I putter around and want to listen to the old codgers chew the rag. That is why it is a dying hobby; they are all older than I am. Of course, I'm partly to blame for the lack of interest from the younger generation. I taught my son basic Apple programming when he was seven, and he never looked back. He didn't see the glamor of building an antenna or radio kit. Of course you can't make a living today taking radios apart, and he does very well as a programmer, so perhaps in retrospect it turned out for the best. There is sadness when you see a hobby die. Some hams are very good an merging computers and amateur radio, but I think the glory days are gone. It's only a matter of time. Fortunately, it doesn't bother me except for occasional bouts of sucidal thoughts. Just kidding. Have you had a hobby that has died?

RACISM

Since WWII is the subject, I have uploaded some photos off original film my father took in 1945. The second photo is of my parents. They had been married about 4 years when it was taken.

He had his movie camera as they followed the front line and the retreating Germans. This next photo is a barn full of dead bodies.




The Germans locked them in; doused them with gas, and set them on fire. Three days later, when my dad arrived, he could still see smoke trailing off the corpses. It made an impact on the whole world at that time, and these films still make a powerful statement today.









Racism knows no limits. My question is, "Where does racism begin?" I think we can trace it back through culture, clans, families, and finally to the individual. What is in my heart? If I eliminate racism from myself, then it is more difficult to take root in my children and those I influence. If I speak out against it, then I have an influence in society as well. I have a responsibility to defend those who cannot defend themselves. I have a responsiblity to live a life free from hate. I have a responsibility to live by example. Can you think of other ways this should impact our lives?

GLAD TO BE ALIVE

I usually don't watch a lot of television, so it has been an endurance for me to spend 14 hours doing just that over the past week. PBS presented The War by Ken Burns. It was a fascinating overview of WWII history, focusing on four typical American towns and the personal interviews of individuals from them. I didn't want to buy the DVD set later for $129, so it was important that I watch it now. WWII veterans have now reached the age that an average of 1,000 die each day. My own father is currently in relatively good health at age 95, and he had full participation in that history. He began as an MP in the states, and then was a vehicle mechanic in Europe. He crossed into France on "D-30" which means 30 days after the invasion.

Today I was telling him about the series. We get coffee everyday when I make my bank run. After the first stop he started to relate a story from that past, but forgot what he was going to say. After the second bank stop he remembered. He was working on a truck when a shell from a German 88 landed on its tail next to him and slid to a stop without exploding. I have heard this story before, but after watching that series, it took on a whole new meaning. My stomach flipped. I was born in 1948. Suddenly I felt very glad to be alive. I exist because of the faulty aerodynamics of German artillery. My mother, my siblings, my spouse, my children, their spouses-- the thought is overwhelming how history could have occured differently based on one shell.

So I begin thinking, "How important am I?" Is my existence determined by chance? Does God ever reach into human history and tweak the outcome so that one may live and another die? I don't know how often He does that, but there is one fact that we do know: Jesus said, "I lay down my life and take it up again." I could possibly lay down my life if I do something heroic like shield a grenade with my body, or push someone out of the way of an oncoming truck. No way could I take my life up again after dying.

Has anything ever happened to you that could have easily ended your life? More importantly, has anyone ever died so that you may live? Are you glad to be alive?

THE LEPER CHAPEL

Several weeks ago I profiled the writing of Bethany, our youngest. After some research, I was able to locate an essay by Erin, our middle child. I say "child" in the loosest sense, because she is married, has a career, and no longer jumps on our bed in the morning. In her last year at Seattle Pacific, she spent three months studying literature in England. This article describes just one day's adventure during that time.





The Leper Chapel
“You are not here to verify, instruct yourself
Or inform curiosity or carry report,
You are here to kneel,
Where prayer has been valid.”
-T.S. Eliot



My bus slowed to a halt on Newmarket Road in Cambridge, England. I held my breath in anticipation; this was the moment I had been playing over and over in my mind. Twice a day for the previous week the small church had slid past my window on the route to and from the center of town. Each time I felt stirred to look closer at the stone walls, to touch the tall wooden doors. Brief moments of consideration turned into a determination of will; this was my chance. I stepped onto the cracked sidewalk, waked past the bus stop benches and toward the iron entrance gate.
The historical marker outside the church named it The Chapel of St. Mary Magdalene. It was built in the twelfth century under the reign of King Henry I, and it is commonly called the Leper Chapel. The church originally served as a place of worship for a lepers’ hospital that stood far on the outskirts of medieval Cambridge. Although it has been patched and renovated over time, it holds the title of the oldest complete building in the city. Over the last 900 years it has been used primarily as a place of worship, but also as a market house and a horse stable. Through it all the building structure has been relatively unchanged.
The foundation of the walls is a rough, red brick. The grainy texture of the blocks and mortar gives evidence of the chapel’s age. This layer quickly fades into the larger gray stones that compose most Cambridge buildings and a seam of cobblestones lines the top. The church is not much larger than a small house, but it sits in the middle of an undeveloped green field of grass. The path that leads to the door takes visitors through the gate and downhill to the level of the original city.
As I observed the building it struck me that this chapel was built when the Earth was flat. The heavens still revolved around the lepers that attended here; even their isolated community was kept in the center of the universe. Enlightenment science has since changed humanity’s view of our place in the cosmos, but the significance of the Leper Chapel has increased by its physical transcendence through the progression of time.
This chapel exists for those cast away from society. It is named after Mary Magdalene, a woman rejected by her community but embraced by Christ. The lepers that worshipped here knew the significance of that love. As patients in a hospital, this Chapel was seen as necessary part of their therapy. Jesus healed lepers throughout his ministry, thus a chapel devoted to his worship holds that hope. The unclean are made holy and acceptable by the grace of God both spiritually and physically. I have been the unclean one, and this Chapel invited me to worship also.
A sign informed the curious that the Leper Chapel is still used for services on a biweekly basis, but that weekday visitors could find the key at a nearby house. The doors are kept locked to prevent vandalism, but it is still a house of worship for all to use. After some confusion I found the address, and an elderly lady greeted me on the porch. With a cheerful smile she handed me an ancient iron key and showed me where to return it when I was finished. I thanked her and turned back toward the chapel.
There in my hands was the key to the oldest building in Cambridge. It was heavy and cold, but it allowed me the entry that I had been seeking. It gave me access to a church that had stood for nearly a millennium, and it was handed to me without a background check or even an appointed supervisor. I received the responsibility gladly; such freedom felt right in my spirit. It seemed appropriate that a church built for the lepers- the outcasts of society- would still be available to the public. It was built to embrace the outcasts, and I was invited to share that invitation.
As I neared the church my heart fluttered. Expectation threatened to dull reality. The key fit loosely in the old lock. I turned it with one hand while pressing my weight against the heavy wooden panels. A creak shuddered along the hinges; the lock clicked; and the door did not move an inch in its frame. I chuckled to myself and tried again. This time I turned the key and then applied pressure. Again it resisted. Anticipation morphed into anxiety. Three, four, five attempts followed, each with the key at a slightly different angle or the pressure of my weight in a different spot. The traffic lined up alongside the chapel in rush hour delay. Drivers undoubtedly wondered at the woman prying at the old church doors. I shrugged off lingering pride and continued the performance for my commuter audience. After at least fifteen attempts I gave up in frustration. Reluctantly, I turned back toward the key warden’s house.
The pleasant lady greeted me on the walk; she was surprised to see me so soon. I told her of my troubles and she gave me a patient smile. Apparently a few people suffer from the same problem. She offered to escort be back, and I gratefully accepted her offer. The trick, I learned, was to lift and push at the same time. Such a small difference in technique popped the door open immediately. She handed me the key and left me to the company of silence and history.
At first I was frustrated with my own failure. The moment that I had looked forward to had been colored by my own inadequacy and embarrassment. It was humiliating to ask for help in such a simple task as opening a door. Yet as the reality of my situation settled, I realized that my experience held a greater truth than I could have ever planned. How often do we reach our goals unassisted? Does independence truly equal satisfaction? My journey of faith has proved the point. Often I miss the way, ignore the truth, or crumple under pressure when I try to make my own way. But when the journey is consulted, submitted and shared with others, I experience the strength of the Body of Christ and truth that exceeds my personal understanding. My helper reminded me of the truth I would have otherwise missed: even as I took a private journey to the Leper Chapel, it was not a movement into isolation.
The door shut heavily behind me. Evening sun streamed through the small windows onto stone walls painted white. The effect was a soft, yellow light that clung to the dust in the air. The furnishings were the sparse necessities of an occasional church with two rows of wooden chairs facing a wide altar. On my right was a small pulpit with an open Bible on top. The room was largely undecorated save the puckish faces that stared down from the rafters with twisted, friendly grins. A single wooden cross marked the front wall beneath the high, dark beams of the Norman roof. The only noise came from the birds in nearby trees.
The chapel seemed to somehow escape the bounds of age and era. The floors and walls had spots where the stones were indented from generations of feet and hands. The shuffling feet of lepers, priests and parishioners had made a smooth path to the altar. My own visit was simply one more pair of hands and feet that would add to the wear. I was equally a part of the congregation.
There is confidence in the history of Leper Chapel. It is a physical testimony to a culture of faith that finds relevance and resonance in my own life. The history of the lepers is my own history. We are broken, outcast, and incapable. Some cannot even open doors for themselves. Together we form the Church of generations, the Body that Christ heads. The faith experience of lepers blends with my own through the prayers we share and the very chapel in which we worship. The current of their prayers and the depth of faith’s history drew me toward the front.
I knelt and prayed. My knees and palms pressed against the cool floor. Silence surrounded me, and the air was thick with absorbed petitions from generations passed. Mine joined the chorus. The space and the heritage of the Leper Chapel were available to me for a unique moment in time, and I was able to appreciate it with others before me. The climax was in the calm. It was a gift facilitated by others: the twelfth century builders, the community of faith in Cambridge, and the key warden among many others. I felt my prayers shift toward a close, and I stood to face the door.
At the exit was a guest book for visitors to sign. I debated the ramifications of leaving my name. My experience at the Leper Chapel had been intensely personal, and the anonymity of my solitude was part of that encounter. Yet it was the history of people that worshipped there before that gave my time its significance. Now I was one of the past worshippers, my feet and hands had worn away the stone, and the echoes of my prayers lingered in the rafters. I wrote my name.
The Chapel of St. Mary Magdalene is now part of my life story, and I am a part of its 900-year history. The Holy Spirit entwines my soul with the saints that have gone before—with those that built the stone walls and the lepers that were banished from city limits—and that connection will reach the visitors that are yet to come. More feet will glide toward the altar; many hands will hold the heavy key and open the aged door. As I shut and locked the door behind me, I knew that I would always keep the memory of a space that invites outcasts in the name of Christ.

THE CRUEL SEA

Nicholas Monsarrat wrote this soon after World War II. It's a fictional account of British naval life in the North Atlantic during the war. Once you get into this book, you realize why the title is The Cruel Sea, and not The Cruel War. The battle really is with the sea. The war just makes it more miserable. (I think I'll stick with the Army or Air Force.) The story line follows two men who enter the navy at the same time. One of them develops into a leader. The other allows fear to overtake him. I can see elements of each man within myself. A good book does that. They made a movie from the book, but I recommend you read the book first.

THOMAS SOWELL

This is an author I recommend everyone read. He has written some good books, and one of my favorites is Race and Culture. It's an analysis of what happens when a minority group moves into a society, and either succeeds or fails. When they are successful, the dominant culture views certain occupations and lifestyles as below them while the minority group has no such restrictions, and their willingness to take on those activities shunned by the larger culture often results in a substantial financial foothold within just a few years. For example, they might be willing to live in more crowded conditions, and/or pool their finances. They might be eager to work in an occupation that has no status in that society. The values of their particular subculture can be a key to financial freedom, or financial bondage. He analyzes cultures around the world, including some strong opinions about the failure of the descendents of the African slaves to rise out of poverty in the United States. He's not very popular in some circles. I think those that don't want to take responsibility for their own actions have the hardest time accepting his viewpoint. Take a look at his writings, and give me some feedback.

WOMEN AS OBJECTS

The cultural changes of the last 200 years have been impressive. Specifically, slavery has been abolished in our Western culture, and women have been given the right to vote. Yet, in some parts of the world neither has happened. It is as if human rights has a tentative hold, like a kitten on a screen door. At any moment the kitten could drop, and we could find our world reverting back to the way it was. It is a scary thought, and even more scary when you realize that millions of people want that to happen.

The idea of women as objects also remains strong. In the West, we see it primarily in pornography, but there are strands of it trailing through other parts of our culture. I'm not sure of the cause, but I suspect that it has to do with the issue of power. Men are physically stronger, and traditionally have the role of protector and provider. When that power is perverted, it corrupts the relationship between men and women.

I think the problem arises when men use their strength for selfish fulfillment. A man gets married and has children, but he never quite makes a complete transition into the protector/provider mentality. Deep in his psyche, the wife is his "property." She exists to make him happy. That attitude can be passed down from generation to generation.

I often wonder what the world would be like if all the men woke up on Monday morning and found that they were as physically strong as ever, but that all the women in the world were twice as strong as the men. Would "yes dear" take on a whole new meaning?

What about other cultures? In Islam, religion cooperates with the men to keep women as second class citizens. We seem to have made more progress in the West. Our Judeo-Christian roots are patriarchal, yet both Jewish and Christian history have accounts of women accomplishing great things. The roots of anti-slavery are grounded in the Christian principles of men and women like William Wilberforce and Harriet Beecher Stowe.

Perhaps the real problem is the issue of dehumanization. Looking down on others who look or think differently from us seems to be part of our human experience. It happens between nations, of course, but if you look closely you can follow that same mentality down to tribes, clans, and even individual families who see themselves as superior to those around them. It's not surprising that a man can carry this outlook into his relationship with women.

How does one not fall victim to the temptation of dehumanizing others?

PARADIGMS

Most of us are familiar with the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. Go here to take the test. It provides a means to identify various personality types, and how they relate to one another and the world. (I am an ISTJ.)

“Paradigm” is a word that entered popular culture in the last decade. It speaks of a particular way of looking at the world. It might be an “us and them” mentality. Remember the song “You and Me Against the World?” I think of people with this type of outlook as walking around with a perpetual scowl. You can keep others at a distance if your face says “back off.” It also tends to make one susceptible to conspiracy theories. Even if you don’t have a scowl, you may see a Communist under every rock. Wait! That was the 50s. Today it would be the Trilateral Commission, or the Jews, or a government conspiracy to keep us from learning the truth about 9-11.

An opposite paradigm is that “everybody loves me.” I think of how our boston terrier greets guests. As more guests arrive, the excitement builds, until she is racing around the house in total ecstasy. She has no enemies. She would gladly get in a car with a total stranger.

The Myers-Briggs Indicator measures sixteen different combinations of personality traits. Each has its distinct way of relating to others. Once you know your classification, you can google it and verify that you fit the description. It seems that basic personality is largely genetic. You can’t change the way you are born. All you can do is temper it to make it palatable.

I don’t think there is any right or wrong personality. However, some are definitely easier to get along with. If you find yourself stuck with 10 others in an elevator for 18 hours, what kind of personality would you like them to have? How would they like you to behave?

Thinking about how we look at the world makes me wonder how we can give young children the best possible perspective. Do I want them to be careful, or cautious, or optimistic, or all of the above? Our kids are now adults, so it’s too late to correct mistakes that we may have made. How should we teach our children to be likeable adults in a world where the next person they meet may have sinister plans?

Can someone who is suspicious be changed into being loving and open toward others? Do you need to change, or are you happy with the way you are? I’m assuming that you agree with me that we would all like to be loving and open. That speaks of course, to the existence of absolute truth, which we have discussed previously. Otherwise, some would desire to be cruel, and others to be kind, and one would not be better than the other.

As mentioned previously, I am an ISTJ, although I consider myself barely an “I.” My “I” is almost an “E.” Do people who like to blog tend toward certain characteristics in their personality? Look at this description of each classification after you take the test and see if yours is an accurate description of you.

MONEY

The concept of money has always intrigued me. It is a medium of exchange that represents a unit of worth. In days past it was tied to gold. Thirty five dollars would buy one ounce of gold. Today the unit of worth of the dollar is whatever we collectively agree to be its value. Of course the government has a big say in its value by controlling how many dollars are in circulation at any given time. If too many dollars are printed, the value of the dollar goes down. Inflation over the years has decreased its value. In 1968 the lumber mills paid wages of about $3.50 per hour. Today, if you can find a lumber mill, your pay might be closer to $22 per hour. That doesn’t mean we are richer today. Everything else has also inflated. In 1960 my father purchased a small two bedroom rental house in Bandon, Oregon for $5,000. Today that same house sells for at least $150,000.

The art of handling money correctly seems to be a great mystery in our culture. Many families have a negative balance in their net worth. If they paid off their credit cards and sold all possessions, they would still owe money. I am a constant witness in my business to poor spending decisions. I see people purchase $35,000 trucks on a $35,000 annual income, with no health insurance on their family, and no life insurance on the breadwinner.

One solution is to spend less than you make. It seems to be a principle that few understand. It is easy to do if you have no credit, but hard to do if you are addicted to credit cards. As a culture, we tend to spend money based on our standard of living instead of on our income. Of course the entire advertising industry doesn’t want you to be successful in your goals to spend less money, and the government lives in fear that simply the lack of confidence we have in the economy could be enough to throw us into a national recession. Think what would happen if we all woke up tomorrow and anyone who watched a new car advertisement on television would get physically sick. In addition to needing a lot of baggies, the other impact would be the ripple effect of negative new car sales on our economy. However, if one family makes an individual decision to always purchase a used vehicle instead of a new vehicle, they would be putting literally tens of thousands of dollars in their pocket over a lifetime.

Another key to handling money is education. Mutual funds have proven historically that they can be a safe investment returning between 8 and 20 percent on a consistent basis. Unfortunately, many of the Americans who do save money are not choosing to learn how to invest. It only takes one magazine subscription and an earnest desire to learn. The difference it can make over thirty years is phenomenal.

Perhaps the greatest hindrance to financial success is a consumptive lifestyle. Consumption is a great tie-in to the advertising industry. The problem is that if I buy an unnecessarily expensive item, it can create a desire in you that wasn’t there before. You may have been very happy with your plastic blender, but seeing the bells and whistles of my stainless steel blender makes you much more likely to want your own. You could have gone all your life blissfully enjoying your ugly blender. I should have never invited you over. That does bring up an interesting moral question, however. Do I have an obligation to spend my money in such a way that it does not create unnecessary need in others? Or, do I proudly drive my metallic purple Corvette to get groceries, knowing I am making you salivate? The truth is that Corvettes do make me salivate. I alone am responsible for how I spend my money. I can’t blame the way I was raised. I can’t blame you for having a nicer car. I can’t blame the Democrats or Republicans. I have to take responsibility for my actions and for my judgment or lack of judgment. However, I would not recommend flaunting your wealth. Wealth can be a relative concept. If you go to Africa, do not wear your diamonds. It’s just common sense. However, you can wear diamonds around me, because it doesn't bother me. I also don’t care if you have a nice car, because I like to admire nice cars, and if I want one, I’ll buy myself one. I think I’ll just admire yours and keep my money in mutual funds.

ENDURANCE

Alfred Lansing wrote this in 1959, but its popularity has been revived recently when PBS broadcast a documentary on the book. It tells the story of how Ernest Shackleton led a crew of 27 on an exploratory expedition to the South Pole in 1914.

My recommendation is that you read this book in the summer, outside in a hammock, drinking lemonade, with the warm breeze blowing your hair. After all, Shackleton and his men are experiencing extreme, bitter cold, and this book has the capacity to make you feel cold even on a hot day. However, if you want to get the full experience, go to a walk-in cooler at someplace like Costco, and read it in short sleeves.

You won’t be able to put this book down, so don’t start it until you are sure you won’t compromise your work or family obligations. I suggest you wait until you get influenza, or perhaps take a trip to Mexico. Whatever you do, don’t read it while you have influenza in Mexico. That would be a little over the top.

My favorite part was their encounter with a rogue wave. The worst part was so bad that I can’t discuss it. The best news is that Shackleton brought all his men home alive.

This book is an excellent study of leadership. Shackleton had an uncanny ability to know the strengths and weaknesses of his men. He was able to control the troublemakers, and that is no small feat when you are crowded in total darkness for months at a time in the bottom of a wooden ship. Remember, they hadn’t invented antiperspirants yet.

Read and enjoy!

WHY I AM NOT A CHRISTIAN

Bertrand Russell was a renowned mathematician and philosopher. He lived from 1872-1970. I think a more appropriate title for this book should be “Why I am an Atheist.” He was raised in England and attended a religious school. It seems to be more of a reaction to the teaching he received as a child, and therefore a reaction to Christianity. Ibn Warraq used the same idea with his book titled, “Why I Am Not A Muslim,” which was a reaction to his upbringing as a Muslim.

After reading a biography of Bertrand Russell by Alan Ryan, it is quite apparent that he was intent on finding a paradigm for living that permitted a lascivious lifestyle without the guilt that being a Christian would bring. He advances all the traditional arguments against Christianity. It’s a good book to read if you want to justify why you are an atheist. It’s a better book for Christians to read, because it exposes them to what others are thinking about their faith. Several years ago we used this book in a church class as a basis for teaching apologetics. It went very well, and I look forward to teaching it again sometime in the future.

It seems to me that every belief system tends to be closed within its own system of logic and perspective. An atheist can seldom be persuaded to become a Christian, and a Christian laughs at the thought of converting to atheism. Any movement from one belief system to another requires either a life event powerful enough to break through the traditional thought patterns of that system, or a desire such as Russell had, to participate in “forbidden” activities. Many times the transition is gradual; for example, from Christianity, to apathy, to agnosticism, and then to atheism. I have a friend who went from Islam to atheism, and then to Christianity. In his case, he claims the move to Christianity was precipitated by Jesus appearing to him in a vision. I would be interested to hear in the comment section if you have had such a transition in your life; either sudden or gradual.

The real challenge of this book is that it causes the reader to ask, “Have I followed Bertrand Russell’s path of choosing a belief system because it justifies my life style, or have I subjected my life style to the truth?” I hope we are all have the courage to pursue truth.

Now you tell me, to quote Pontius Pilate, “What is truth?”

SPEAKING OF GOOD WRITERS...

Lin and I have been blessed with three children, J.R., Erin, and Bethany (adults now), who are all very skilled at writing. Today I am going to showcase the youngest (Bethany), who wrote a Dickens-style account of a burglary. I think you'll like the story. The second sentence is my favorite.






A tale of crime is often said to be one of the best in the realm of story telling, and as I am obligated to tell a tale of my own personal experience, I prefer that it be one associated with a genre attracting such public favor. The night that the named event took place was as one would naturally expect the eve of a criminal act to present itself, a notably dark, ominous night who’s predecessor had been a dreary, autumn day; hardly validated in its claim to be such as any appearance of light had been mysteriously absent, seemingly unable to penetrate the clouds that took pleasure in drowning the city beneath it with endless, cruel, torrential rain. I in fact made mention of the queer quality of the evening, more specifically the moon, to a group of my companions as we traversed our way to a charming, little house-warming party that had been amiably put on by some of our common acquaintances; my superstitious remark, however, held little meaning to anyone on whose ears it fell, including, most certainly, my own.
At the moment of our return from a most enjoyable evening of merry-making and well-wishing, we, meaning my two housemates and myself, were amazed to find the remaining and fourth member of our household in a close, if not fully resembling, state of distress. Upon our immediate inquiry, it was relayed, in a most pitiable fashion, the order of events that had taken place only a little over a quarter of an hour prior to our return, and that had induced in our friend such an affected condition. It seems that as the named individual was seated in the kitchen, deeply engaged in an academic endeavor when she was startled to hear, at quite close proximity and volume, the voices of several, meaning at least more than one, members of the male gender. What is more, she thought she heard what could only be construed as a comment in reference to herself, and being that she was entirely alone in the house, as the others, including myself, were out, she promptly ran to the upper level of the house and waited until the individuals had either removed themselves from our property, or lowered their voices to the extent that one would not mistake them for being in close proximity to our windows. Once the happenings in their entirety had been relayed, despite the potential danger, I deemed it necessary to make certain all was secure outside of the kitchen doors that open onto the grounds behind the house, and I bravely performed this task myself, being cautious of course to keep a firm grasp on the door handle lest someone or something whisk me away into the clutches of night. To my utter surprise, upon first glance, there was indeed evidence that seemed to indicate my possession of inherent detective skills, as well as cause for concern, namely, muddy footprints whose very existence seemed to defy the fierce, pounding rain; an unsettling yet triumphant discovery! After a brief but thoughtful consultation, the four of us decided that due to the lateness of the hour, there was little to be done, regardless of the suspicious circumstances, but go to bed, careful, of course, to leave the outside perimeter of our common dwelling well lit and securely locked.
After a satisfactory debriefing of the evening of festivities with the dear friend and housemate with whom I share a room, a situation allowing of course for in bed conversation, the most comfortable and best kind, I fell into a deep and much needed slumber at about midnight, only to be awakened a mere three hours later by the door to my chamber squeaking open, and appearing into view, the head of my housemate, which ever number you would like to assign, but I will tell you it was the one who possesses a most admirable quality of level-headedness, and she stated in a simplistic and most characteristic manner, “Now there is someone in our backyard.” I quickly reached for my eye glasses, and it was at this point that I was able to accurately see her, and observe for the first time the expression of calm urgency on her face, a combination of emotions that I had never before been aware of until now. She proceeded to relate to me how she had been sleeping lightly, due to the worrisome events earlier in the evening, and had been awakened by the sound of someone attempting to open our front door, had proceeded to peer out the window and had then observed a man climbing over our side gate into our yard. It is important to note, reader, that her entire account of what she had observed occurred only seconds prior to my own awakening, and even as the last words rolled off her lips, I myself heard the jingling of the bell on our side gate; the culprit was indeed still at work!
In the very clutches of terror, the four who inhabited the house that night quickly huddled together, all crowded on one bed, waiting for the authorities, who had been at this point notified, to arrive and apprehend the criminal, yet dreading the possible entrance of the latter before help could come and security be assured. It is amazing how even the smallest fragment of time can seem unbearably long in the minds of those who are significantly frightened, and in reality, the time that passed before help came to the fear-stricken household was indeed in the quantity of minutes although it seemed a short eternity to those who awaited it. Shouting soon ensued, on the part of the legal official, inquiring the purpose and place of dwelling of the terror-inducing intruder, and it became apparent to the group of bed-clothed women as they strained to hear if the trespasser had been apprehended, that it was indeed the case, he had been caught, and as the proud, blue-clad enforcer of the law later related, it had all been the drunken mistake of a good-natured, inebriated young man who was certainly not a criminal, and on retrospection, yes, perhaps it is so. To some, however, who perhaps flatter themselves with imagined talents of the crime-solving nature, the two events are much too coincidental; for now, however, my account will end, although future, sinister events may lend sufficient material for the continuation of this tale.

THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW

Lin’s book club recently read this book. The author is C.S. Lewis. Like many great books for children, it has within it keys of eternal truth. Because of the symbolism, I think adults enjoy it more than their kids. It is only one of the seven Chronicles of Narnia, and recounts the beginnings of Narnia. It is in this volume that you learn the origins of the White Witch, and how she came to enter Narnia at the time of its creation. The story centers on the adventures of two British children. It’s a better read if you imagine British accents when they speak with each other. Lewis has a way of captivating my imagination like few authors can. Tolkien comes close, but Lewis is the king, in my opinion.

I won’t give away the plot, but be prepared to see parallels to the character and attributes of the Judeo-Christian God, along with themes of obedience, self-control, and destiny.

HAPPINESS AND DESPAIR

The April issue of Money Magazine reports that money doesn’t make you happy. Once a person rises above the poverty level, money is not the answer. They report that any attempt to be happy by surrounding yourself with things is only temporary. They suggest writing in a notebook at the close of each day those activities that you have pleasant memories about. After only a few days, you will see a pattern emerging. You will have a detailed list of activities that make you feel good. With that list, you can plan your day more carefully, and be sure to not overlook those times as they come along.

That makes sense to me. I always knew it, but it is refreshing to see a publication take a stand against materialism, especially since their whole focus is on building wealth. However, there is a difference. Materialism meets a need for instant gratification. Building wealth which will be passed on to your grandchildren is deferred. Besides, your grandchildren will be glad you did.

Happiness can be elusive. I think the greatest temptation is to always be anticipating the next event. We are waiting for the weekend; a new job; a marriage; an inheritance; Summer; the list is endless. What are you waiting for? Are you happy now, or is it always just out of reach?

Another thing I have noticed is that happiness is either there or it isn’t. Some people walk around with a spirit of sadness, anger, or hopelessness. Others, in the exact circumstance, have a spirit of joy. We know the importance of brain chemistry. Perhaps their brains are different.

Christians have a future hope. Sometimes they have been accused of ignoring the needs of this world because of their anticipation of the next. Jesus, however, focused on the needs around him.

What about other belief systems? Do they have hope? If not, how do they avoid despair? A hedonist lives for pleasure. Does that mean that when the pleasure stops, the happiness stops? “Ok, I’m 80 years old now. I can’t drive my sports car, my wife is dead, and all my friends have passed away. It’s time to commit suicide.” A humanist lives to better the human condition. Is there happiness in that? What if the humanistic projects you are investing your time and talent in collapse? Eastern philosophies seek the god within. Islam hopes for the day when the entire world will be united under their faith. (Somehow, I think if that really happened they would still fight each other.)

What gives you hope? When you drift off to sleep at night, are you filled with despair, or with hope? Do you have fear, or peace?

INFIDEL

See this link for updated information: http://ayaanhirsiali.web-log.nl/ayaanhirsiali/english/index.html


Never underestimate the power of Nancy Drew. Ayaan Hirsi Ali read not only Nancy Drew mysteries as a child, but also English classics from the 19th century. They planted a seed of freedom that later gave her the inner strength to break away from an Islamic upbringing. This book is the story of that journey to inner freedom, which resulted in her fleeing to Europe and settling in Holland.

This book is captivating, because it is a window into the Islamic pattern of thinking. It causes me to ask questions. How would I as a man react if I were raised in that environment? Would I view women as second class citizens? In the Islamic culture men have all the power. Being part of the power base, would I be content in my power, or would I have compassion for the weak?

Are there any parallel situations in my culture? Are there any citizens that have no power? Women seem to be making progress in the work force today, although we read about the “glass ceiling” that they bump against in the business world. Racism seems to be on the wane, although there is still plenty of it around. Abortion is probably the most obvious example, since there is nothing more helpless than an unborn child.

Are there any patterns of thinking in Western culture that prevent me from clearly discerning the truth? Islamic culture certainly has preconceived ideas about life that causes them to make what we consider erroneous decisions. They are apparent throughout this book. What are my preconceived ideas, and what actions do they lead to?

Have you ever had your eyes suddenly opened to an error in your priorities or lifestyle? Did you change, or would the cost have been too great? For Ayaan Hirsi Ali, it was worth leaving her family and her culture. Would you do the same?

A FRAMEWORK FOR UNDERSTANDING POVERTY

Have you ever noticed a co-worker’s grammar mistakes, such as “I don't have no...,” or, “I axed him to go?” Chances are that if you notice these types of errors, then you are solidly middle class in your values. Use of language is just one of several benchmarks that distinguish between the three economic levels of poverty, middle class, and wealthy.

Ruby K Payne has written this book for educators, with the goal of enabling them to effectively reach their students. She makes the interesting observation that financial resources do not explain the difference in the success with which individuals leave poverty, nor does the lack of money explain the reasons that many stay in poverty.

Generational poverty is defined as having been in poverty for two successive generations. Situational poverty is caused by a sudden financial catastrophic event, such as sickness or divorce. Both types have their own set of problems to overcome.

She explains seven resources other than money that contribute to a person’s social class:

(1) Emotional resources are the most important, because they give you the strength to not return to old habit patterns. (2) Mental resources are the ability to process daily information. If you can read and write, you have an advantage. (3) Spiritual resources are powerful because the individual can draw on a power greater than himself, and life is not destined to fate, but rather a higher purpose. (4) Physical resources refer to having a body that is healthy. (5) Support systems are important for providing such things as child care and emergency money. (6) Relationship resources are needed to provide mentors and role models. (7) Knowledge of hidden rules is essential to understanding the class you are in, and the class you wish to transition to. Each economic level has specific unwritten rules, which can be mystifying to the other levels. For example, a person in poverty is much more likely to know how to get someone out of jail. A middle class person understands term life insurance, and a wealthy person knows how to get their children into selective private schools.

In order to move from one class to the other successfully, it is critical to have a mentor already in that class. Without a mentor, it is almost impossible to learn the hidden rules.

One of the more interesting differences between classes is their world view. Those in poverty see the world in terms of their local setting. The middle class have a national outlook, and the wealthy are much more likely to have an international view.

This book is a great tool for teachers who want to communicate effectively with their students of all three economic levels. It is also useful for anyone who wants to understand why it is so difficult to leave poverty and transition to the middle class.

I was fascinated by the way the three classes treat money. Those in poverty spend and share with each other; the middle class earns and accumulates, and the wealthy preserve.

Which class do you fall in? Have you or your family recently transitioned up or down the scale? What precipitated the change? I’m interested to know.

A PERSONAL NOTE

Ok, data from my personal life: the cutest grandchild in the world. Micah James.

NORMALCY AND OTHER THINGS

What is dysfunction? Is it the opposite of “function?” Is it simply a diversion from the acceptable form of normal? What is normal? By what standard does one interpret normal? Are you a normal person? If you met someone who was just like you, would you get along? Would you think they were normal? Are your parents normal? Have you found yourself in some type of exchange and suddenly realized that you sound just like your parents? Is that a good thing? It would be nice if we could acquire the good attributes of our parents and shun the bad.

I can think of various types of abnormal—anger; substance abuse; avoiding conflict or being confrontational; communication issues, both lack of communication and being overly communicative; low self-esteem, and its opposite, pride. The list is very long. I have met some intensely dysfunctional people. I remember the college girl who would cut herself on her arms when she was under stress. She also carried a knife in her boot for self-defense. There was the middle-aged woman who could talk of nothing except herself. Needless to say, most people tried to avoid talking to her. I remember the young married man who had all the right answers, but his life was a total mess. It was obvious he never took his own advice.

We will always have the excesses of abnormality, but what about the other 95% of the population--those of us just trying to make a living and live a normal life? How do we confront issues we face? How do we even find out what our issues are?

For one thing, I thank God every day for hormones. I become aware of my faults once a month. Seriously, who else will tell you when your breath is bad? How do you feel when someone close to you brings up one of your many shortcomings? Do the hairs on the back of your head start rising? Do you react like a threatened dog? More importantly, how should we react? Should we allow 20 minutes for losing our temper, and then 20 minutes for apologizing? What is the correct response for handling criticism? What is the proper way to administer criticism?

Most of us are not aware of the extent and scope our dysfunction. Even when we are aware of a defect in our personality, we tend to blame others. In fact, blaming others removes the guilt, so that becomes a powerful incentive to not accept responsibility for our actions. It is popular to blame our upbringing, or our social class, or the way our ancestors were treated.

Perhaps we simply can’t fix it even when we know about it. Just like the fox was created to eat the goose, perhaps in some areas we don’t have a choice. Are men created to watch football while the wife brings them snacks? Are women born to shop? Does a man have a problem if he loves to shop? Is a woman shunned by her friends if she likes guns? Maybe there are just different degrees of varying from the norm, and some of us are way out on the fringe of the bell curve. Is it acceptable to tell your spouse, “Get over it, that’s just the way I am?”

Confrontation needs to happen in a prescribed, safe way. A relationship without conflict means one of you is either dead or unnecessary. And yet, a relationship with too much conflict can be hell on earth.

I have had trouble being non-confrontational all my life. In my defense, it’s not that I don’t confront; I just don’t feel that strongly about anything. You want to eat at McDonalds? Let’s do it! You want to go to the beach? Great! In retrospect, after 32 years of marriage, I am trying to have more of an opinion about things. I have always been very opinionated about the important things, like who should be President, or whether or not we should be in Iraq. However, now I am trying to take more of an interest in the small things of life. After all, they are important to others, and so should be important to me as well.

Normal is also different things to different people. If you are raised in a home where alcoholism is accepted, then you are more likely to accept it when you establish a home. The same thing applies to communication techniques. If you grew up where everyone shouted, then you might think that your spouse doesn’t care about you if they don’t respond with shouting. It is interesting to see a new marriage blend the expectations of two families into one. It’s a set-up for conflict, which needs to happen. Hopefully the new relationship will take the good from both sides and reject the bad.

It is sad when a warped concept of normal cripples a relationship. If a girl is attracted to a guy because her definition of “exciting” is someone who gets drunk on the weekends, then that marriage is beginning with the seeds of its own destruction. The very thing that attracts her to him will destroy the relationship. Men have other issues. They are blinded by testosterone. It’s like walking along a precipice blindfolded and high on Demerol. They have no idea what women are saying about them behind their back, and they don’t care, because they are on top of the world and it is ripe for picking. They think they are God’s gift to women, and nothing will bring them back to earth. It’s only when you are my age that you realize that isn’t true.

Perhaps the place to begin good communication with another person is to discuss each other’s concept of normal in a very detailed way. Then, when you know them well enough, take the next step and carefully reveal to them what you have observed about them that in your opinion is not normal. Of course, that is not without risk.
You also take the chance that when she tells him to chew with his mouth closed, that he’ll tell her to lose weight. The battle lines are drawn!

The real issue with defining normalcy is that our culture cannot agree on a standard. Our nation has agreed to interpret law based on the Constitution. We call it the “rule of law.” We are 300 million people who have collectively agreed to obey traffic signals, and thousands of other rules. If it wasn’t for us all agreeing to follow the law, we would have anarchy overnight. A Chinese graduate student expressed surprise to me that we obey stop signs even if there are no other cars in sight. Not all countries have such a commitment to the rule of law.

However, we have no such standard for evaluating behavior.
You can track changes in our recent cultural history. When I was young, it was not proper for unmarried people to live together. It was not appropriate to exhibit homosexual behavior. Both activities were a mark of shame upon the participants and their families. Today there is far less shame, and in some cases, pride has taken its place. With our cultural norms in a continual state of flux, what is the outcome? We can assume the progression will continue. There are already political movements to normalize assisted suicide, pedophilia and vampires. Our imagination is the only limit. Is there a solution?

The logical answer is to anchor our mores to an agreed upon standard. Christians anchor their faith on the Bible and the teachings of Jesus. Jews have the Torah. Muslims have the Quran.

Wars have been fought on whose standard to use. The advance of Islam after it appeared about 600 A.D. was one of military conquest. Waging Jihad was acceptable normal behavior, and still is to some Muslims. It advances the cause of Islam. The Old Testament chronicles the advance of the Jews through Canaan. It is interesting that Christianity spread because of persecution. Jesus preached turning the other cheek. That was perhaps the most effective spread of mores in human history. A thousand years later the effort to stop the spread of Islam resulted in the Crusades and created a resentment of Christianity that survives today. In addition, atrocities committed in the name of Christ survive in our history of the Spanish Inquisition.

Do you have a fixed standard for normal, or will your normal be evolved into something else in twenty years?

GAMBLING

I have a pet peeve. I see the whole gaming industry as destructive to our culture. I see a government we elected to lead, turn their backs on protecting the people, and instead milking the poor and middle class by giving them something they want. In return, the government receives tax dollars that rightly should have been used for food, medical needs, and retirement savings.

Several years ago Bill Bennett admitted a gambling problem. His defense was that he never gambled with “milk” money. It was always money he could afford to lose.

I would like to tell Mr. Bennett, “Even if you win just once, thousands of others lose, and they are losing ‘milk’ money. You are taking advantage of the people you pledged to serve when you were the Secretary of Education.”

We read heartbreaking stories on a regular basis of those who have been caught in the clutches of a gambling addiction. The gambling road is a wide path of tantalizing destruction.

Bill Bennett was saying, “I can handle it.” I would like to hear him tell that to the addict who has lost their savings, their credit, their home, and sometimes even their family.

Where does my responsibility to my community begin and end? “Am I my brother’s keeper?” The Biblical answer is yes!

DEEP THOUGHTS

Distance is an interesting concept. We “go the distance.” We have a distant look in our eye. We gaze upon a distant star. I wonder if any astronomers have named their baby Distance. Perhaps they would be more likely to name their children after one of the more popular stars, such as Polaris, or Alpha Centari. They would be called Pol and Alfie.

We look at a map and find the distance between two cities. We do our homework and plot the distance between two points of the xy-plane. If something is attainable, we say it is within striking distance. The distance between two points on the earth can change, depending on if you stay on the surface, or dig your way there.

Long distance phone calls have given way to long distance education over the internet. The distance between the earth and the sun is one astronomical unit. Distance seems to be a vague concept that is defined by more precise words, such as inches or miles.

The distance light travels in the time it takes the earth to go once around the sun is called a light-year. In one second that is 186,282 miles. I think I’ll just stay home if I have to take my car.

If you measure the length of your living room, you would probably say 16 ft, 5 inches. However, if I tell you to measure it halfway and only measure ½ the remaining distance each time you measure, you would get old and die before reaching the wall. Try it sometime. I’ll come to your funeral, but don’t ask me to sing.

Distance can be relative. If I am an insect, California is far away. If I am a migrating bird, it’s only a few days. I picked my daughter up at the airport earlier this year. She had been in Uganda a few hours earlier. I consider that to be a great distance, but only because I think how long it would take to drive.

If there was a floating bridge to Hawaii, would you drive? How often would you have to stop and get gas? What if the engineers built the bridge, but forgot to put in any gas stations or rest areas? Would you wear a diaper and carry your own fuel and water?
Would you wear a life jacket while driving, just in case you encountered a bad storm?

These are deep thoughts.

HONOR AND SHAME

Honor and Shame
By Roland Muller

Have you ever been mystified by stories from strange cultures? With our recent exposure to Islam since 2001, it seems that the United States has been on a fast track to attempt to understand the Middle Eastern mindset.

This book puts it in perspective. The author explains that all cultures look at life from some combination of three paradigms. They are: 1. honor and shame; 2. fear and power; and 3. innocence and guilt. He refers to them correspondingly, as shame-based, fear-based, and guilt-based.

Western Civilization is predominately a guilt-based culture. Our roots in Roman law helped us develop a democracy known as the republic. Much of our legal system today is based on the Roman code of law. The rule of law was supreme, and individual rights were granted by the government. Even the emperor had to obey the law. The emphasis is on telling the truth and obeying the law.

Fear-based cultures tend to be in Africa and South America. We’ve all seen Hollywood movies with the witch doctor doing a rain dance. The witch doctor or priest controlled the village with fear. These cultures are sometimes called animistic, because everything has a spiritual meaning. Rules, procedures, and rituals are established to appease the spirits. Throw a virgin in the volcano once a year and the gods will be appeased.

Shame-based cultures are predominately in the Middle East, although there is evidence of it throughout the world. Every part of Muslim culture is based on honor and shame, including which chair you sit in, who enters a doorway first, and even the way you walk and represent yourself. The emphasis is on the honor of the tribe or family much more than the honor of the individual. Individual actions are controlled by the expectations of the group, and no one wants to bring shame upon the group. A girl is raped, and her family kills her. The family had been shamed, and killing her restores the family honor.

There are some interesting implications when cultures collide. First of all, there will be misunderstandings. Tourists from the United States have a worldwide reputation for being loud, demanding, and rude. Is it because we suddenly act differently when we go on a trip? No, I think it is because we are loud, demanding, and rude with each other. We value truth more than preserving the honor of the other person.

The author mentions an experience in a public swimming pool. The lifeguard blew the whistle, and the Westerners stopped to see who was guilty. The Arab children kept swimming. When we run a red light, we feel guilty. The Muslim doesn’t necessarily feel any guilt. Did you ever wonder why other countries drive so crazy on the road? They don’t have the same roots of obeying the law in their culture.

In discussing this with a Chinese graduate student at PSU, he agreed that honor is much more important in China than in the U.S. When he calls his mother, he tells her everything is fine, even though it really isn’t. It is much more important to preserve the honor of the family than to tell the truth and possibly bring shame to his parents.

In reporting on the war with Iraq several years ago, Newsweek magazine told of successful tactics being used by American soldiers. They would put speakers on the front of a vehicle and broadcast insults. The enemy soldiers would respond by jumping out of their hiding places and attacking the better armed Americans. The article had the tone of disbelief. In reality, this is only understood in the context of a shame-based culture. Defending the honor of their mother was worth possible death in battle.

Cultures change, and our own history has the account of the dual between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr. It resulted in Congress outlawing dueling as a means to settle disputes. Today it sounds silly, but 200 years ago it was a big deal.

In the Bible, Adam and Eve experienced shame, fear, and guilt. Jesus lived in a shame-based culture, and the Bible actually speaks more about freedom from shame and fear than freedom from guilt. If you talk to a Muslim about personal guilt, they may have trouble understanding the concept.

When interacting with other cultures, I need to be aware of the “window” they are looking through. As a Westerner, I also need to know that guilt is not the only motivation to do the right thing. Shame and fear may play a much bigger role in the lives of others than I expect.