Walter Williams

But recently a headline on his column, “In Greed I Trust” caught my eye (see Richmond Times-Dispatch for January 12, 2012).

I was horrified, and hoped, in reading, to find the headline inaccurate. Alas, I did not.

The question which prompted the column was, “What human motivation gets the most wonderful things done?” His answer: “people trying to get as much as they can for themselves.”

People are motivated by self-interest, and in many cases people are able to do amazing things–raise themselves from disadvantageous circumstances, create new products that are useful to society, get an education, even marry the person of their dreams.

But greed, or getting all that’s mine, is not an unmitigated good. It often leads to hoarding, and unethical behavior and injury to others who get in the way.  Bernard Madoff understood greed. No one is left a good outcome in that case.

Care for the other, paying attention to the needs of our fellow humans, is required in order for society to function. Self-interest is important–people who fail to care for themselves fare poorly in life, generally–but other-interest is also important. Both, in balance, are marks of an emotionally healthy person.

In that sense, one can claim that caring for others is also self-interested, and that is true. But greed and caring for others do not mix well.

Greed is selfish. The only thing I can trust greed to do is to lead to a breakdown of the social fabric.

And that is not good for any one.

I texted Jonathan this message this morning, “Picked up your mess.” Fortunately, I noticed the message right after I sent it, and sent a correction. The correction was simple: “meds!”

As the messy one in our home, I do not anticipate ever having to send a message, or even offer a comment, to Jonathan about his mess. Jonathan does not do mess.

But this mix-up got me thinking. How many times have I communicated with a confusing or inaccurate message–not because of an active editing function (which I appreciate much of the time) on my iPhone, but because I simply was not clear?

Email is famous for this. People write what we think is clear, and someone reads our message in an entirely different way. I don’t if any global wars have started over emails, but I know lots of smaller conflicts have been instigated or given more life because of emails. Communicating emotional content via email is simply too dangerous in most situations.

I worry about this when I send out weekly pastoral messages, too. I often try to communicate something important (even sometimes some emotional content), and I realize that it could easily be misunderstood.

It is difficult to know how 175 different people will read it. Of course, the best course in any situation where we are offended by someone’s statement is to ask them to explain what they meant.

I know one thing about this incident: I need to slow down a bit, not just with my phone, but in life. I can  utilize new technology but I need to be careful in using it.

I caught the error before Jonathan did, and he responded with humor. But not everyone will feel that way, especially if it is something far worse (a couple of times I have caught this editor trying to “fix” my bad typing–still getting used to the touch screen keyboard–and creating a word I would never send in a message).

So maybe the iPhone is actually teaching me a lesson: pay close attention, messages are important.

What Martin wants to do is to change the law so that voter registration cards may no longer be used as an acceptable form of identification at the polls. He says he is worried about fraud, and wants to make sure everyone has to produce a picture ID. “I think we should know who’s voting and that there is no fraud involved,” he says.

State Senator Stephen Martin

Of course, there is no evidence of fraud in Virginia elections. So you’d think we might leave well enough alone. If it ain’t broken . . . .

But there are others around the country–pretty much all Republicans–who join Martin in raising the concern about fraud–despite the absence of much evidence of fraud in U.S. elections. Some are seeing what they perceive to be a trend across the country: creating a demand for photo identification to vote.

Who are the ones most likely to be negatively affected? The folks who don’t have photo ID. And who is that? Mostly poor people.

And which party generally gets more votes from poor people? The Democrats.

Could it be that Republicans are trying to keep Democratic turnout low?

Oh, slap my hand for thinking such diabolical thoughts!

The strongest voices in our nation these days seem to belong to those whose primary values focus on money–getting more, keeping what they have, avoiding paying taxes. We need a counterweight of the sort provided by Martin Luther King, Jr.

I am particularly struck by the absence of religious voices that speak with the authority he commanded.

Jonathan and I were at the Unitarian Universalist Church of Fairfax Saturday afternoon and evening to hear Rev. Mark Kiyimba, a Unitarian Universalist minister in Uganda, speak about his work against misogyny and homophobia in his country. He did not speak in the magnificent cadences of Dr. King, but he spoke with the same moral power and clarity. As I listened, I thought, “Oh we need him and others like him, we need a new Dr. King in this country.”

What struck me about Rev. Kiyimba is something that was always clear about Dr. King. He is a serious man, a faithful man who thinks for himself, a man who thinks with God as his main adviser. He does not consult polls, he does not let himself get caught up in seeking publicity for himself but he strategizes about how to get the message of peace and justice a full and fair hearing.

Of course, there will never be another Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We cannot, and should not, seek to duplicate him. But we need a new King for this time.

But something changed. I did not use tomatoes.

Actually, let me be more specific. I made a pot of red kidney beans and did not use tomatoes. Jonathan can’t eat tomatoes these days–some skin problems are made worse by tomatoes–so I am not cooking with them.

It has taken me some time to wrap my mind around making soup and beans and stuff like that without tomatoes. For some folks, it would be like having breakfast without a doughnut or bacon, or having church without hymns.

Frankly, for several months I simply avoided red beans and kidney beans, because I could not imagine not including tomatoes. I just made other beans–navy and Great Northern beans, split peas, lima beans, etc.–and pretended it did not bother me. I like all of them, too, but finally I realized I need to face red or kidney beans without tomatoes.

They turned out well. I used a lot of seasoning, more than I used with tomatoes. It was actually fun paying more attention to seasoning (and it helps to have a husband who really knows spices and has a refined and sensitive palate!).

I think I am being taught a lesson–again: namely, that just because we’ve never done it that way before doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try something new.

Will I ever learn this, really?

St. George's Church

It was the year that we had no money in our home–my father had invested all we had in his new business and there was little income (only my mother’s pay from part-time teaching). We weren’t dirt poor (although the new business was a nursery, raising trees and shrubs, so there was a lot of dirt invovled). We were investment poor.

So, my mother announced that we would have split pea soup for Christmas dinner. Or maybe it was Thanksgiving dinner–either way, it was a real break with tradition.

In Sunday School (I think it was when I was in first or second grade), we were asked what we were having for the holiday dinner. I loved pea soup, and so I raised my hand eagerly. “Yes, Robin?” asked the teacher (a well-meaning woman whose name I have mercifully forgotten). “We’re having pea soup,” I said proudly.

“Oh, now, Robin, that’s very cute, but I know your mother and she’s not serving you and your father pea soup on Christmas!” Her smile was frozen, and she pointed to one of my classmates to give the answer she expected. But I persisted. “Oh, but we are having pea soup,” I said. “My mother told us last night not to expect turkey or anything this year. We’d just have pea soup.”

“Alright, Robin, you can have your fun, but we know what you’re having–lots of delicious turkey and stuffing and gravy and pie and all the other wonderful stuff. That will be enough of your foolishness.”

I sulked the rest of class. Then, after church, the teacher accosted my mother, in front of me, to complain about my misbehavior.  ”I don’t know what got into Robin today. He said you are serving split pea soup for Christmas dinner!”

My mother was not one to suffer fools gladly, and I am afraid she shot this poor woman a withering stare, before saying, “Well, as a matter of fact, times are tough for us and Robin is correct; we are having split pea soup.” Then, allowing a couple of beats for that to sink in, she added,  ”We’re glad to be able to do so. And please, do not shame my son again.”

It began to dawn that day on me that church consisted of many different people–but that there are too fundamental groups in most churches: those who use the church as a way to confirm what they already “know” to be true (and don’t confuse us with any questions or new ideas), and those who use the church as a way to learn what new things God has for them.

One of the reasons I so love our MCC movement is that we, much of the time, are unwilling to accept only that which the existing church tells us. We want to build God’s church, a new church–a church where split pea soup can be served alongside the turkey.

(if you think you read about this before, you could be right; I told it more briefly on April 21, 2011; obviously, the incident affected me greatly)

“You cannot have peace of mind, and have your ailment, too.”

I don’t know about you, but I sometimes enjoy rehearsing what is wrong in my life, sharing my physical aches and pains, the things that have gone (or are going) wrong, the hurtful things others have done. These recitations can get quite involved. I persist even when I see the eyes of my listener glaze over and their smile freeze in recognition that they are trapped and destined to listen for a while.

But such “sharing” does not change anything for the better in my life. Indeed, if I get into a routine of this, I can actually cause myself more harm, perhaps even pain.

I grew up when Dr. Norman Vincent Peale was popular (yes, this was in the last century–as I remember, Eisenhower was President). My father was very dismissive of Dr. Peale, saying he was just handing out quack medicine–people, my father said, should stop trying to sugar coat their lives with nostrums such as the “power of positive thinking,” and face the cold, hard truth of life’s pain and difficulty.

I have heard many others do the same over the years, dismissing not only Dr. Peale but also many who have followed him. It is possible to use his idea to avoid reality.

But Emmet Fox (and Dr. Peale) actually are all about reality–the one you create for yourself.

In fact, in another writing, Fox cautions people against claiming their pain as their own. Don’t, he says, speak of “my rheumatism,” or “my unemployment.” He says when we do this sort of thing, the ailment becomes wholly ours, almost like a prized possession. We take pride in ownership.

I know people who have developed this into an art form. I once had a work colleague who, when someone said, “Thank God, it’s Friday,” would say in response, “Well, I’m not so sure I’m happy about that–it is just that much closer to Monday.” She was stuck on the highway to pain and didn’t know how to get off.

In contrast, Fox suggests we claim the cure as our own. This is a very Jesus-like idea–claiming that God is available and wants the highest and best for us.

Focusing on the cure, like Jesus’ question to the man in the pool as recorded in John 5:6, indicates a desire to be healed, relying on the fact that God is a God of healing. With the thought, the hope, that cure–or even alleviation of suffering–is possible, comes less anxiety, less fear, and more peace of mind.

For that, I am grateful to God. And my mind experiences greater peace.

Today’s reading is a listing of “You cannot have . . . ., and also have . . . .,  as in the old saying, “You cannot have your cake and eat it, too.”

He begins with that one, and then adds six more. I am going to meditate on each one and share some thoughts about each one over the next few days. I hope you will go on this journey with me. And please respond if you wish–perhaps we could even get a conversation going.

Let’s begin.  ”You cannot have your cake and eat it, too.”

I know this is often used as a way to judge someone for making a mistake. It has been said to me more than once. I have said it to others, and about others. Often, the person saying it (me) uses a smug tone.

But what if I apply it to myself?

Obviously, I cannot meet my weight goal of 200 pounds by Easter if I eat a lot of cake (especially the fruitcake that is calling to me from the refrigerator at church)!

But there is more. If I work too much, I cannot spend adequate quality time with Jonathan or Cocoa or my daughters and my beautiful granddaughter. On the other hand, if I don’t work enough, the church will not meet its mission and I might have to find another job (and God’s call on my heart may be denied).

So this is about making choices. Life requires choices all the time. There is nothing I do that on some level I have not chosen to do. Oh, I want to blame someone else for whatever is going wrong, or is creating unhappiness in me, but the truth is that it is all my choice. Even those things that seem to not be a choice are a choice.

Dr. Emmet Fox

We had a great example the other night at The Way of Prayer small group. One of us said, “You know I brush my teeth each day, and I get dressed before going to work.” I would not dream of not doing either one. So, that’s what I want for my morning prayer life. I want to have prayer be as important, and as regular, as brushing my teeth.”

She understands she has a choice. The truth is that she needs to allow more time in the morning for prayer. That will mean less time for something else (probably sleep). What is her priority? Is prayer really a top priority, or is it only a wish?

You cannot have 10 minutes of prayer and sleep (or brush) the same ten minutes.

Earlier, after the Wednesday night storm, I heard people asking each other, “Did you lose power?”  Some would say it only flickered for a moment or two, while others, like us, said yes.

But it got me to thinking. This language about electricity is misleading.

We did not lose power. We lost connection to the electric grid. But we, Jonathan and I, still had all our power, all the power God gives us. Dominion Virginia Power has a lot of power, of course, but not as much as God.

And God’s doesn’t ever lose connectivity. At least on God’s end.

God’s the real p0wer. Divine Dominion Power–that’s a company in which I want to invest.

Sometimes, not much. Other times, a lot. The numbers in Washington are daunting. It used to be, when I was much younger, that millions were a lot. Then it became billions. Now it is trillions.

So what is the big deal for me about 218?

I weighed myself Monday morning–I do this every week–and I weighted 218 pounds. For the first time in at least a decade, I weighed less than 220 pounds. Glory Hallelujah!

That is indeed good news. And even better is the fact that it says that the changes I have made in my eating habits, and the increase in walking I have undertaken the past several months, are working. I now feel real hope of making my goal of 200 by Easter (April 8, 2012). Already, I can feel the difference; my pants are not so tight. Maybe by Easter, I’ll need to buy some new ones!

Most of all, I feel better already. And I know we’d all feel better if Congress and the President could get some reduction in the national waistline (but in that case, they need to both reduce the outgo and increase the income–sort of like me eating less starch but also eating more green vegetables).