On Two Divergent Thoughts

Today I’m struck by two widely divergent thoughts. 

One is a big to-do halfway around the world from where I sit, a modern fairy tale of sorts. Will and Katy got married this morning, in a ceremony that Will’s mother would have loved. A lot of people were there, and as at any wedding, there was a lot of well wishes, smiles, and pictures. I understand the church was full of onlookers and family, as well as some VIP types.

Okay...the church was Westminster Abbey, there were heads of state in attendance, and William and Catherine are in line for the British Throne. Okay, so when your grandmother’s the Queen of England, and your mother is the late Princess Diana, you tend to do things like weddings big. It’s sort of expected; after all...you are royalty. Of course, I add my well wishes to the happy couple; and hope that this fairy tale wedding has a fairy tale ending: that they live happily ever after.

Then I look out my window. It’s raining today as I write this. It’s as if God Himself were crying over the metro Eugene-Springfield area today. There are police all over town. A route is being prepared to get blocked off. Flags are at half staff; half the town is wearing blue ribbons. My RCMP pin has a black band over it. That band will remain in place until Monday. I’ve read that the RCMP-and possibly some of BC’s finest-will be visiting today as well.

As will police from California, Washington State, and all over Oregon. This is because today there’s a funeral for one of Eugene’s finest. 

Chris Kilcullen was a twelve year officer with the Eugene Police Department. He was a motorcycle officer who was fatally shot last week while stopping a vehicle, in what was described as a routine traffic stop. The person who killed him had been tailgating him, according to written reports. He was a 13-year veteran of the police department, and was the first Eugene officer killed in the line of duty since 1934. His death made a widow of his wife, and left two children fatherless. 

And it was one of those shots that was a freakish, million to one shot. While he was wearing a Kevlar vest-which is pretty much standard issue-I understand the bullet went in just inside the armhole at close range. 

Now, I’ve never been a cop. I have worked in security and crowd control in four states; I have shields for two of those (California and Illinois). And one certainly doesn’t like to see an officer shot. These people are here to serve and protect; even when they hand us a traffic ticket they are doing their jobs. And those jobs can be thankless at times.

I’m not going to cast aspersions at the shooter; there may be some mental issues that are not being released to the public. We don’t know the whole story, we may never know the whole story, and what’s really sad is the more they’re finding, the less they really learn about what’s happened.

Yes, today in my neck of the woods, there’s a big-to. So big it’s in the new Matthew Knight arena, for a man who died serving his community. 

Like I said...two widely divergent thoughts. One happy, one sad. While most of the world celebrates a wedding, we’re having a funeral for a man many of you never heard of. 

Now you have. He sounds like he was a heck of a nice guy, from all accounts.

RIP, Officer Kilcullen. You left behind more than family; you’ve left behind friends who knew you well...better than I did. You’ve stopped more than traffic today.

Your death has brought our community to a standstill.  

Enough for now.

On the Japanese Earthquake

I’ve been watching the devastation over in Japan for the last two days, absolutely horrified. The earthquake damage-the quake itself now being listed as a 9.0-was bad enough; but the tsunami damage is worse. The USS Ronald Reagan is there to give aid, and while I’ve been watching the news off and on all weekend, I have not heard the extent of foreign aid they will receive to this point.

I grew up in earthquake country. I’m used to seeing earthquake damage. I live in an area with a little something called the Cascadia Subduction Zone. When it lets loose, as I’ve heard repeatedly, we can expect the same kinds of widespread damage.


I’ve also spent a good chunk of my life exploring the Japanese culture, both pop and formal. I’ve been to Japan, and while that trip is many years in my past, the impact it made has lasted this long. Yes, the Japanese are probably better prepared for the kind of damage than we are.


No, it doesn’t make it any easier. In a lot of places, if the earthquake and aftershocks didn’t destroy things, the resulting surge did.


So...I’m asking those of you read this to respond. Consider it a form of paying things forward, if you would. Contact your local Red Cross for details, or go here: http://www.redcross.org. I’d consider it a personal favor if you did.


Thanks!


Enough for now.

Thoughts on Listening to God

I recently came across something-I think it was on my Facebook page-that said, in effect, that we are good at praying...but not so good in meditating. In this case, meditating is sitting still and listening to God speak to us in that still, small voice.

I know that word was meant for me that day.

I admit I’m examining a number of different things in my life right now; what those things are I am not quite willing to make public knowledge as yet. Suffice it to say that I am seeking God’s will in these issues, and so have asked certain people to join me in prayer for direction in these matters. 

But have I been listening? Really, truly listening for a response? That’s a good question.

Now, before going on (and before a few of you think I’ve blown my last transistor), I do not believe that the Almighty is going to whisper audibly in my good ear. (He might, but that’s not necessarily how He works these days.) We have His written word, a good chunk of my adult life and education I’ve spent studying; therefore actual English coming to me from nowhere is not what I foresee as an answer. (It would certainly simplify things if it did.)

There is not only the written word, but godly advice from people I trust. There are certain circumstances, certain events that I can look at and see that maybe there is something here for me-or not.

One of the people I have asked to pray with me sent me this gem of a line: “But there are things that can tell us when…like Obi-Wan said, “In my experience, there’s no such thing as luck.” If too many things line themselves up in a row to make something happen for you, it’s more likely they were put there.”

Of course, that also means if certain things seem to fall apart, there is a good reason for that as well. But I’m a bit off track...so back to the listening thing.

I have taken some time to not have music playing in the background while I work. There is silence-just me and my thoughts-or an environmental background, courtesy of my iPod (and a nifty app from Naturespace). Yes, I am still working...but my mind is sorting through things as I do so. I am contemplating, without being contemplative. I am allowing the quietude in my life to give me the opportunity to really listen, to see if what I am thinking/feeling/sensing is really of the Lord.

I’m also walking away from things (like the TV), and just sitting and thinking. I have turned off the radio and/or iPod in the car as I drive as well. I have much to consider, and blessedly little time to consider them. Driving takes me away from my MacBook, even if it’s only for a few minutes.

So I guess, when it comes down to it, if you are praying, take some time to listen. Even talking with the Almighty is a two-way street; we should not do all the talking and allow Him to speak to us.

Which reminds me...if you think of Deena and I, pray for us. There will be more to come later and as appropriate.

Enough for now.

Thoughts on MacWorld 2011

I recently attended the MacWorld 2011 Expo and Conference in San Francisco, and found it quite interesting. There were exhibits, classes, and all kinds of interesting things to see. There were all kinds of things for your iPhones, iPads, iPods...and yes, there were even a few vendors there for Macs.

No, Apple was not here officially. There were some Apple people wandering around; one spotted my hat on day 2 as I spotted his credentials after seeing his hat first. (His was a black ballcap with Apple’s logo; mine is a gray Mao-military style cap with Apple’s logo.) Apple pulled out of MacWorld a year or so back. So did a number of vendors. But that didn’t stop the people from coming, myself included.

Walking into the Expo, my initial reaction was “These are my people.” Most of the attendees were courteous, and while there was a boatload of us crammed into Moscone West, it didn’t feel crowded. (A good thing, as I have alluded to in the past I am not really into being in large crowds for long.) I could tell some funny stories but I’ll keep most of them to myself. One I will share was from a couple walking past me, and provided me with my favorite line of the week: “That’s not true. I’m twice the geek your first husband was.”

As usual, all the sales people were doing whatever it took to get your attention. One booth had a woman in a some strange clothing. I thought at first she was supposed to be an space alien; turns out she was a Lady GaGa impersonator. (Which shows you how much attention I pay to today’s music.) 

I didn’t go to this solely for my own amusement. While I am a user of Apple products, and am learning about how things work inside my MacBook, I really went to this to see what kinds of software would be available for some of my students. We have roughly 300-500 students using Macs at Master’s, as near as I can estimate. In that respect, I admit to being a bit disappointed as really there wasn’t much there for them. (Maybe they should have called it iPadWorld.) I got to talk with some other distance educators doing the same thing I was, and having the same issue. (I rather enjoyed the networking aspect of this.) 

That notwithstanding, I was thinking of bagging it early, until I sat in on a session called “The Mac in Education” and came to the realization that while the Mac is in no danger of being phased out anytime soon in favor of iPads (or your favorite brand of PC in favor of a tablet), I can see a time coming--sooner than later, I suspect--when the how of education and some businesses will change.

With that realization, I went back through the Expo with new, fresh eyes. There’s a lot to be excited about, if you will allow yourself to look past the immediate, to look past the ways we have done things for many years and see some possibilities. 

One of the things that really, really hit me is the outdated concept of the computer lab. When I was learning AppleSoft in my “Intro to the PC” class at LMC, there was a computer lab with a number of Bell+Howell Apple II+ desktops in it. Even moving those up to today, you have to maintain 24-36 computers, power them,  upgrade them every so often, replace parts that break, etc. That gets to be expensive when nobody's using them. At the Energy Lab on Hawai’i, when students come in, they are issued (loaned) iPads. They can then work in any of the classrooms, and not just the computer lab. (In point of fact, the Energy Lab does not have a computer lab.) If the batteries run down, they can either be charged or plugged in. 

I can see that classrooms and schools will have wifi or whatever number G available, and the parents outfit the kids (remember, schools get educator discounts) with an appropriate iPad or tablet. They then get the books downloaded, they’ll have the programs and apps they’ll need to compete assignments, they’ll have access to teacher’s notes (with hotlinks to further reading), pictures, and...

...the new teaching paradigm will be much more interactive. It won’t just be facts and figures (save for math, I suspect), but interacting with those facts. For the example used, it’s not enough to know that Columbus landed in America in 1492. What were the ramifications of the “discovery” of the New World? How did that impact the Native Americans? The Europeans? Columbus himself? This will become the new way of teaching: facts, mixed with a certain amount of logic and analysis/synthesis. In short: Young people will actually learn to think, and not just regurgitate.

As one working in Christian Education, this is exciting stuff. There’s also that part of me that wishes we had this kind of tech when I was at CVHS and LMC; I would have gotten more out of this kind of interaction with the material. (Not to mention my back would have been grateful to not lug large amounts of weight on the bike ride home--or back to the parking lot at days’s end--when school let out. An iPad weighs far less than 5-6 400 page books, several pens and pencils, and other required school paraphernalia.)

As a whole, we--as adults--have to embrace the tech. (We don’t necessarily have to understand it...but we cannot be afraid of it.) And really, that’s the message I want to share. I went in looking for software...and came out with a changed perspective.

I’m looking forward to coming back next year, and taking in a few more sessions.

By the way...if you are interested, my pictures of MacWorld are here. (No, I didn't have one taken with the Lady GaGa impersonator.)

Enough for now.

On Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his legacy

Today as I write this, it’s Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. It is the 25th observance of this particular holiday. This is a semi-official holiday, in that the banks, schools, and the government have shut down for the day.

For the rest of us, it’s business as usual. If you’re blessed to have a job outside the above listed...you’re working. I’m working today, and so is my wife. (She’s still only working part-time--she’s not totally healed from surgery--but she’s working today.) 

Somehow, I think the late Dr. King would not be pleased with this. Today of all days, we should take a look at where we are and how far we’ve come.

Except we won’t. But not for the reasons some might give. I see things a bit differently.

There’s still perception problems, I’ll grant you. There is still inequality. But some of that has come back--boomeranged, if you will--to the white male.

Women’s rights have advanced tremendously over the last 25 years, since the first marking of this holiday. African-Americans (or people of color, according to the NAACP person on the radio this morning) have also come quite a ways in the last 30 years.

Meantime, white men are shown on TV and movies to be drunkards, womanizers, and total clods more interested in beer, sports, and certain portions of the female anatomy than anything else. They are shown to be pathetic in their attempts to be hip and/or cool. They can’t parent well, leaving that task to the incredibly super-competent women in their lives. Many of them don’t seem to work hard, if at all. 

I could speak of some stereotyping among the white community as well, looking at people of color. I won’t, however, because that is not what I read when I read Dr. King’s “I Have A Dream” speech.

Let’s take a good look at part of this: 

“Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

What Dr. King envisioned was a place and a time where all people-regardless of their race, color, or gender-could sit down together as the intelligent people God created us to be at the table of fellowship. Not one stereotyping the other, not one trying to be superior to another, but as equal, intelligent children of God, each doing what God called them to do, each fulfilling their unique, God-created role for their individual lives.

In short--to live as equal brothers and sisters, if not in total harmony, at least with charity and understanding. That is his legacy we should stop and consider this day. Not necessarily the man himself...but what his dream was, what he died trying to see the fruit of. Yes, we have come a long way. 

But...there is still so much to do, all the way around. 

Enough for now.

A Christmas Letter to my Dad

Dear Dad:

It seems strange to write a letter to you like this. I mean, you’ve been gone now for the last two Christmases--this will be the third since you passed--and in many ways, life has moved on...as you told me it would, years ago. It's also strange to write this because you and I wrote each other very little.

And yet, tonight after Deena had gone to bed early, and I was wrapping the Christmas gifts, I found myself thinking of you. 

It still seems strange sometimes to go back home and not see you there. (Though there is a nice comfy chair there you’d love, I’m sure.) It’s really hard this time of year; I remember all the years you took pictures of us kids at the top of the stairs...and the year we all beat you to it. That flash had to be visible for a three mile radius! I remember bit and pieces from both birthdays and Christmases past: The 100 in 1 electronic kit, the Starfleet Academy manual (and Enterprise blueprints), and all the LEGO are still in my possession. (As well as more electronics, Star Trek books, and even LEGO than I ever thought I’d own in a lifetime.) Making stuffing, and having you taste it. Trips to Helen and Louie’s in the motor home. (Or, as Amy put it, “Barbie’s Dream Home.”) 

I’ve tried to hold up my end of the bargain. I promised to be a good son and watch Mom for you. I’ve tried to keep an eye on Mom without being a pest. You’d be proud of her; she gets around pretty good these days. She’s active enough, gets out of the house, and drives. She flies on her own, too. 

When we went to the Big Island, we had a GPS you’d have laughed at. My little unit butchered every Hawai’ian name. We all still laugh about it. (That, and trying to find Diamond Lil’s in Salt Lake City.) 

I’m still helping clean up the house as well...I’m going to want to discuss with you some of the more interesting findings. For example, I know you knew nobody was using serial bus ports on computers; USB connections work so much better. So why were there, what--a half dozen or so?--adaptors for serial busses? Plus the cables? 

I don’t even want to know why there were hundreds of 5 1/4 inch floppies. I do want to know where you hid the slides. Part of my early life is on those, and I’d really like to rediscover part of that. 

So many things. I know all the medals you earned in the Navy. I wish I knew how you earned them all. You never really talked about them, or much else of you Navy time. I understand why as a vet myself. I also never knew you cared much for baseball, much less were a Yankees fan. I know you never totally understood my tastes in music. (That’s okay...I never totally understood yours, either.) But you did instill a love of good music, which means I’ll never like rap. 

I also know you never could quite figure out what I saw in some of the girls I dated. That’s cool; you weren’t dating them...I was. You and Mom taught me to look past certain things, and see the person inside. I learned to see certain qualities I knew you and Mom didn’t see. That’s okay too. (I’m still trying to get the “being a good husband” thing down as well, and I am wondering if I’ll ever get it right. Even approaching 19 years of marriage--after 4 years of dating on top of that--I’m still trying to get things right.)

You’ve missed seeing me with the quartet. We have fun, and we do reasonably well. (We are getting better every week.) You watched me compete with barbershop choruses at all levels, yet due to work/guests from out of town (I don’t remember which) missed the only Command Performance I ever had in both intermediate and high school. That was hard for me to understand at the time. There were other things I never understood: how you could solve algebra in your head, and I couldn’t get the same answer twice. (And then there was the time I got one answer, you had another, the book had a third...and my instructor got a fourth answer and none of them matched.)

I remember when you told us as a family we might have a chance to live in Europe while you would be in the Middle East. As much as the education I would have gotten would have been a benefit, given the way things have turned out in the Middle East, it’s better that deal fell through.

You taught me to honor my commitments, even when not a pleasant thing to do. I guess that’s part of what pulled my butt through Moody and TEDS: I made a commitment, and by gar I wasn’t gonna quit. (No matter how badly I wanted to turn tail and run.) 

You taught me how to change a tire, spark plugs, headlights and taillights, several wiring harnesses, my own oil and oil filter, and the fuel filter. These days, I’m lucky if I can find the latch to open the hood. Changing my own oil is out of the question...no place to dump it. You also taught me to use the right tool for the job. 

In some ways, that’s a lesson I’m still learning; again this year I cut the wrapping paper for the gifts with my Swiss Army Knife. (Some things never change.) You’d have been proud of me. Yes, I still have a knife that weighs a ton. But hey--I’ve carried Swiss steel since 1976-77ish. Why stop now? 

As much as I miss you, though...I wouldn’t dream of asking you to come back here, even for a minute so I could say goodbye properly. Not only have you earned your rest, I couldn’t be that selfish to take you away from the presence of God Himself. 

And that brings me back to Christmas, and wrapping gifts. Yes, we celebrate the birth of Jesus this time of year. Knowing you’re with Him has helped--and continues to help--me deal with the fact you’re not going to be home for Christmas. It’s been hard to not find you something. I miss sending you e-mails and swapping jokes and puns. 

Mostly, though...I just miss you.

I’d better sign off now. It’s late, and I need to get some sleep. Give my love to everyone there. 

Love,

Matthew

Thoughts on Communion

The first Sunday of the month, I took communion. No great surprise that; communion is usually served the first Sunday of the month in many churches. 

But for some reason, this communion reached me deeply. It wasn’t the message (though that was good). It wasn’t the music--though that was quite good as well. It wasn’t even the act of taking communion proper; I’ve taken communion for a good many years now in a number of settings ranging from one done in a serviceman’s ministry I belonged to at Great Lakes to a Catholic church in Concord, CA, and a lot of places in between. (Okay, in all fairness I knew at the time that Catholics practice closed communion. I took it anyway.) 

No, what brought me comfort this day was the ritual of communion. In the United Methodist Church, we often start communion with the Great Thanksgiving (also known as Word and Table 1): 

The Lord be with you. And also with you. 
Lift up your hearts. We lift them up to the Lord. 
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

It is right to give our thanks and praise.

The liturgy, of course, continues on from there. But for some reason, it was the mechanics--the doing of the liturgy, as many have for years, decades, and centuries before me, and will do long after I’ve been translated to glory, should God tarry--that spoke to me. 

The bread and cup, that representation and reminder of what Christ did on the cross for you, me, and the rest of the world is not like anything else in any other religion. Just a quick look at the Wikipedia page shows only Christian references (in terms of religion, at least). 

“Take, eat, and be comforted; Drink, and remember too
That this is my body and precious blood shed for you, shed for you”

(From the musical “Celebrate Life”)

The thought that others around the church universal were taking communion-- many of whom were using the Great Thanksgiving as well--and of those who had gone before, using the same liturgy spoke volumes to me that day. I can’t really explain why I found it so comforting. 

But take comfort in it I did. 

On further reflection, I contemplated that sometimes it is the actual act of taking communion that speaks. After all, this is the remembrance of the Last Supper. It is the revisiting of the Lord Jesus Christ’s last meal before His crucifixion, and all that means to the Christian. Sometimes it is the bread and cup itself, and partaking of it reminds us of the Wedding Feast to come. 

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of

witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that

clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race

that is set before us.” (Heb 12:1, NRSV)

And yes, sometimes it is the mechanics of why we do what we do. That reminder of the great cloud of witnesses, those saints and loved ones that have gone before, looking down and cheering us on to the finish line, as we try to run the race. I can imagine my grandparents, Dawson Trotman, founder of the Navigators, Billy Sunday, my Dad, D.L. Moody, my “maiden aunts”, John Wesley, and everyone else translated to glory looking down on us...all of us. Wesley’s own thoughts on this verse: “A great multitude, tending upward with a holy swiftness, of the power of faith.”

It is, in the final analysis, that power of faith that carries us. The mechanics of the liturgy reminded me of that power of faith that day. 

Enough for now.