Happy Father's Day, Dad!

 He would be nearly 100 now, and I wish he was here so that I could say, "Happy Father's Day," or "I love you," or simply, "goodbye."
      He died suddenly, with a massive heart attack, on July 11, 1977, and I wasn't there.  My not being there was not surprising... because I was busy trying to make a name for myself (just as he had done). Besides, the unpredictability of either one of my parent's moods kept me on edge, and dad and I never talked much anyway. It never seemed as if we had much to talk about. He loved hunting, but I loved golf. He worked with steel, but I pushed a pencil. He was a combat veteran, and I had not served at all. He loved to make things work, whereas I loved to think about them. He was a Tea Party member before its time, and I was a child of the 60's.  I didn't know what to say to him and when we were growing up, he was seldom around the house anyway. He always seemed to be at "the plant," and when he did come home, he would often be very difficult to live with. When he entered the house, my brothers and I made ourselves scarce, and between his work schedule and his moods, I never felt entirely comfortable when I was around him. I often wished that I would've had a dad to play catch with, or one who would've listened to my worries and my dreams, but things just never turned out that way.
      Therefore, we didn't talk much, and as the years passed, and we went our separate ways after Sherry and I moved to Omaha. Yet, I wish we would have spent more time with him and the rest of my family. I wish that things could have been different because I loved my father dearly... and I admired him in many ways. Like many of his peers, he only had an 8th grade education... but he was very bright. He had a quick wit, a wonderful sense of humor (he absolutely loved Red Skelton), a legendary work ethic, and a well-earned reputation of being a man people could trust. He also had an immense amount of courage...and almost frightening perseverance. In short, he was a man's man. He filled a room... and the record shows that he accomplished a lot, rising to the rank of VP and Co-Owner in the field that he chose.
      He lived, it seems to me, in three worlds at the same time. At home, he seemed unhappy and at odds with my mother much of the time. At work, he was somebody important, who played a big role and cast a big shadow, and within himself, he carried the memories of the depression, the War, and any number of regrets, hopes, and wishes. Of course dad was somebody's child himself. He grew up in what seems to have been a stern and volatile household, and he was definitely affected by what he experienced in WWII (which he seldom mentioned at all.) He had seen too much death, experienced too much pain, and pushed himself to be more than he was able to handle at times. He played the cards that had been dealt to him with strength and courage, and he never complained about not being dealt the very best hand. This is the same thing I've tried to do in my life and in many ways, I am much like my dad... except that, when I hit bottom... I was blessed with a transforming grace... and he never had that experience. Grace. A second-chance. That's the only difference between us. Otherwise, I am pretty much a chip off the old block. Indeed, in many ways I wish I was even more like my dad. With a better hand and a moment of grace, dad could've done great things. There is not a doubt in my mind, but (like me) he needed an "unconditional hug." He needed to be known... and loved anyway.
      This man... who once put his fist through a picture window, wrapped his own arm with his shirt, and then drove himself to the doctor... who lost a co-pilot and many of his buddies in the war... who loved to fill his house with laughter and friends- who had lost siblings and parents- who loved to play with his grandchildren and grill food for the whole family- who prayed to God when he picked up enemy fire during the War- who gave us everything he had to give... was my father... and I love him. His body is now resting next to my mother's, in the Masonic section of Highland Memory Gardens, grace 4, lot 170... which is not far from either one of the plants he used to run. I won't get there in person this year, so I will say it now: "Hello, dad. I hope you are at peace. I know you did the best you could. Happy Father's Day."

Your son,

BIG, INCLUSIVE, PERMEABLE CIRCLES OF LOVE

Most of us like to hang out with people who are a lot like us. We know that differences exist in the world, but we're a tribal people. We're northsiders or southsiders, democrats or republicans, Cub fans or Cardinal fans. When we enter a room, we gravitate to people who look like they may be one of us. We watch TV programs, even networks, that affirm what we think because we feel "at home" with them. We attend churches where the people are likely to worship God like we do, and we make sure to sit on the "right" side of the stadium when we go to a watch a game.
 
The North going Zax and the South going Zax don't talk much because they don't think they have much in common. There's no doubt about that, but the circles we draw isolate us and make others... the targets of our fears. The circles we draw to keep others at bay... give us a distorted view of what's really going on, and they create unnecessary fears and prejudices. Thus, people who are different from us...become people who are dull-witted, mean-spirited,  even evil. And so it was between the Jews and the Samaritans in Jesus' time. They despised each other. The Jews considered Samaritans to be deplorable and they would go out of their way to avoid them. But the Bible says that Jesus and his disciples journeyed through Samaria one day, and that they stopped at the site of Jacob's well. According to John, while his disciples went into town to buy food, Jesus waited by the well... and a Samaritan woman came alone to draw water at noon. "Can I have a drink?" Jesus asked, and his question took the woman aback. "How can you, a Jewish man, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?" she replied. It was a good question because Jesus had transgressed the social boundaries that were in place at the time. But the Jewish rabbi and an unnamed Samaritan woman talked on. They talked about religious differences and other things, but their dialogue ended with the woman saying, "I know that God's Messiah will make all things clear when he comes"...  and Jesus said, "Ego eimi, I am!" I am the Messiah, the One who can meet your needs... for water, acceptance, forgiveness, and love. It is to this woman that Jesus reached out and offered both grace and opportunity!

It was not uncommon for Jesus to cross boundaries that kept others from being all that they could be,
Jesus was a "boundary-breaker," and he calls us to consider the circles that we draw. In light of the run-away tribalism and the pervasive fears that seem to be consuming us, it is important to ask ourselves some important questions. We can shake our heads and our fists. We can roll our eyes and condemn others, or we can ask ourselves some important questions and become part of the healing. 1) Would we cross a road to give aid to a man who was not like us? 2) What people do we avoid? 3) What kinds of people are deplorable to us? 4) What sort of people do we walk out of our way... not to see? 5) Who are the Samaritans in your world? 6) Are there people who make us "anxious" simply because they are part of a group... that falls outside of our circle of love? 7) Do we have preconceived opinions about black people? Jewish people? Muslim people?Tattooed people? Loud people? Gay people? 

How wide is your circle of love? Christ lived in a world that was filled with boundaries. He knew that. He knew that he wasn't supposed to welcome children, let Mary sit with his disciples, eat with sinners, or converse with those who were leading unsavory lives. He knew all of these rules and ignored them... because love demanded it! His circle of love included everyone who was willing to be included. It still does! God's love is like that. It's inclusive and welcoming. Love demands that we reach out to others as children of God. Love demands that we ignore boundaries that divide us and walk with people of all sizes, ages, colors, and sexual orientations. So, let's draw circles that include people who root for the same teams as we do... and also those who don't. May our circles of grace be so large that they include anyone who wants to be in... even Samaritan women should we meet one at the well. Amen!