Fireballs in the New Year

"In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and we have come to pay him homage."" (Matthew 2:1-2 NRSV)

In recent days, across much of the United States, fireballs have been sighted crossing the skies. For many it has been something of a concern, for others it has been a novelty, yet for all of us these 'fireballs' (meteors) are an ongoing reminder that we are a part of a cosmic community, a vibrant and fast moving universe. We are susceptible to, and affected by both, energy and gravity, pushing us on to greater things while wearing away our outer nature with the frictional heat of resistance.

The star which the wise men observed at its rising called them toward the Gift which it announced yet, as they were moved by its' energy, they met the heat of resistance in the person of Herod and the politics of government and religion, alike. The wise men were not themselves encumbered with the fear others displayed, but that fear bore down on them in their quest to reach the one, ". . who has been born king of the Jews . . .". They became as 'fireballs' in the land of Israel, in the Roman empire, and many were wondering what foreboding the wise men announced in their pilgrimage. Some were committed to destroying the One they sought - and followed their trail across the skies to the village of Bethlehem, killing all the children under the age of two, according to when the wise men said they first saw the star. Others were not sure what to think of this news the wise men brought, but all the world was affected, all the world was to be transformed . . . not by the wise men, no, they were just the fireballs, the messengers. Rather, the world has been forever transformed by the One who comes, of whom angels sing and over whom stars still brightly shine. The cosmic community, the vibrant and fast moving universe, will never be the same - regardless of how we lash out at it or put our foot down in resistance. The more we object, the more His love shines brightly, and our outer nature is worn down with the frictional heat of Grace and Mercy. Not even Herod could impede God's Vision. Not even Rome could darken His brightness . . . and to this Jesus the nations still turn.

The wise ones among us still move towards His Presence.

Regardless the challenges, regardless the hatred, regardless the fear, the wise ones among us still move towards Jesus and, in moving towards Jesus, are found to be feeding the hungry, giving a cup of water to the thirsty, clothing the naked, welcoming the stranger, caring for the sick and visiting the imprisoned. The transformed among us, themselves, become as fireballs announcing a new reign of justice, witnessing to a cosmic community of equity, testifying to a vibrant and fast moving mercy, all of which is begun first and will continue forever in God. The wise ones are not the Announcement, any more than the star, itself, was the Good News. They are the ones who point to the nearing Kingdom - and how others receive that news will greatly vary, depending on their need, their circumstance, their insecurities, their power or their authority, which speaks volumes of why the shepherds rejoiced in His birth and Herod sought to kill Him. Nonetheless, Jesus is born . . .

Have you seen? Have you heard? Are you moving towards Him? Are you moving away? Are you in fear? Are you transformed? Has His light brought you Good News? I pray in this New Year you receive Him with Joy in your heart and Love in your soul. I pray you become a fireball for Christ. There is no greater call for any of us. A Blessed New Year to all!

Christmas Eve

One of the members of my parish just 'flew' through my office announcing all that they have to do to get ready for their family Christmas gathering tomorrow. Then, just before heading out to complete their shopping, one more phrase drifted into the office as the door was closing, "See you tonight!"

"See you tonight!" was this person's code language for, 'See you at Christmas Eve Services', but it started my mind wandering towards Bethlehem:

What if "See you tonight!" also meant, 'See you in the fields tending sheep outside of Bethlehem?'

What if "See you tonight!" also meant, 'See you in the fields to hear angel choirs?'

What if "See you tonight!" also meant, 'See you in the glow of a New Star?'

What if "See you tonight!" also meant, 'See you at the Stable?'

What if "See you tonight!" also meant, 'See you at the foot of a manger, on bended knee?'

What if "See you tonight!" also meant, 'See you there, with Mary and Joseph and the Baby?'

What if "See you tonight!"also meant, 'See you in the rejoicing after we see Him and go out from that place rejoicing?'

What if "See you tonight!" . . . well, you get the idea.

Who could have seen this coming on that night so long ago? Certainly not the Mary and Joseph. The shepherds were as surprised as anyone. The few folks around who were drawn to the stable in the next days because of the shepherd's story missed it completely. No, no-one could have anticipated what would happen in the dark of this one night, yet happen it did. God chose to come to us, to dwell with us, to embody the journey, to define the hope, to place flesh on the Vision . . . and God chooses to come to you still . . .

And those who are praying, those who are watching, those who are waiting, those who are crying out, those who are found at the margins, those who are 'in the fields' . . . will be the ones to see, to hear, to be witnesses all over again. "See you tonight!" is the language of the hopeful, the faithful, the eagerly anticipating. "See you tonight!" is both Trinitarian Declaration and Benediction, calling the congregation of God's people together and sending them out with Good News.

"See you tonight!" is God's own invitation for transformation.

Are you ready? Is your heart open to what God is doing? Is your soul ready to receive that which earth cannot give? Have you even set time aside to gather in worship of His arrival?

"See you tonight!" . . . I pray I do. "See you tonight!", in the Presence of Love.

A holy and blessed Christmas to all! 

Countdown to Christmas

Countdown to Christmas . . .
The children are upstairs in the Sanctuary practicing their Christmas Pageant one more time for tomorrow's 10:30 a.m. service, churches throughout the region have their advertisements running in all the local papers and news outlets inviting the faithful and the 'once-or-twice a year visitors' to attend their services on Christmas Eve, pastors are polishing that 'masterpiece of a message' which they intend to unveil for those who attend Christmas Eve services, the Candlelight candles and glow sticks are all prepared and ready for distribution, Communion elements have been secured in ample supply for all the folks who will make their way to Bethlehem and continue on to the Jerusalem Table, choirs, bell choirs and special soloists or ensembles are practiced within an inch of their lives to 'Wow!' and impress the gathered congregations, and the ushers and greeters have practiced their congregational welcomes and directions so that everyone who attends knows they are 'special' and Communion doesn't get drug out by folks who don't know where they are going causing the service to go long . . . all to . . . finish that one last thing on the Christmas list: Worship.
It's the final Countdown to Christmas and, personally, I think the shepherds are the lucky ones when it comes to worship: the angels sang an invitation to them, no newspaper ads and no glitzy television ads to confuse them as to where to go, no candlelight services and no special sermons trying to outdo what other congregations are doing, no other 'special' musical selections trying to outdo the angels, no ushers or greeters showing them where to sit and telling them what Communion line to be in (Ah, yes, Communion comes much, much later in the Story, doesn't it!) and no pressure to have that one special gift ready to present when sliding an offering into the plate in the service (enough not to look like a cheapskate, but not so much as to appear gaudy before others). Just Jesus.
Just Jesus, announced by a star and angel choirs. Just Jesus, lovingly held and nurtured by Mary and Joseph. Just Jesus, surrounded by the animals of a stable. Just Jesus - and that alone, He alone, was enough to send them back out into the fields glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen. Just Jesus.
Being something of an 'A-type' pastor who is a self-confessed part of the 'every-little-detail group', I pray for you, Just Jesus, in these days nearing a Stable and a Manger. I pray for you, Just Jesus, in preparing for your family gatherings. I pray for you, Just Jesus, in seeking out that one place to worship with the gathered community. I pray, Just Jesus, for those congregations so immersed in Christmas Eve plans that Christmas Joy is like a foreign land. I pray, Just Jesus, for those pastors who carefully craft their Christmas message - for there truly is no other Message. I pray, Just Jesus, for you . . . that your heart is full of Wonder, that your soul is overflowing with Hope, that your days are guided by His Peace, and that your life is blessed in abundance with His Love. Just Jesus.
May He be enough for us all as we continue the Countdown to Christmas. Just Jesus.
Blessings on the journey.

Wise People Still Search

A wise man entered the town of Bethlehem, Illinois, seeking the Christ Child which he heard had been born near there.
Not certain as to where he might find such a Gift, he stopped at the Gas N Go and inquired if the clerk might have heard or seen such a thing. She thought him weirdly dressed, clearly not 'from here', and a threat - and had the manager toss him out.
Unruffled by the rude clerk the wise man pressed on, choosing to stop next at the local 'Home Cook'n' restaurant, where first he asked the hostess if she had heard or seen anything (and, of course, she hadn't), and then moved on to the table of local retirees who were there enjoying their $1 bottomless cups of coffee and solving the problems of the world. He asked if they, perhaps, had seen something of a bright light the night before or heard heavenly choirs or maybe had witnessed something of farmers coming in from the fields to see this Child. They quietly, quizzically, looked around at each other, taking a few moments to assess if any around the table believed anything of that which this stranger was asking them. The quiet consent of an 'informed disbelief' settled over the table and, being unwilling to discredit this odd man in public, they just went back to discussing the pluses and minuses of the Affordable Health Care Act, turning their backs and their attention away from the temporary distraction.
Rebuffed, but not dismayed, the wise man headed towards the door when, from a side booth, a voice pierced the morning air, "I saw the light of a nearby planet early last evening and when I stopped my tractor to look at it, I heard voices in the night drifting to me over the fields. It was the oddest damned thing. I couldn't help myself, I started the tractor back up, picked up the disc, folded the wings, and drove towards where I heard the voices singing. Oh, it wasn't here in town. I found them down County Road 700 North, about a mile and a half from here. Two homeless people and a newborn baby all huddled up in an old abandoned farm place. The neighbor keeps a few cows and sheep there in the barn, but there's no house there."
Sliding into the seat opposite the storyteller, the wise man waited for her to continue. "They said they had stopped here in town and asked for help at the Gas N Go and got thrown out for vagrancy, then they had come by here looking for a bite to eat and were directed to the dumpster out back and told to get out of town by the Sheriff. Then they just walked as far as they could before the Missus went into labor and delivered a Son.
You know, I would have thought they would have stopped by the church down the street . . . and I told them as much, but they said the lights were out, and when they knocked on the parsonage door, they were told to come back in the morning to apply for help from the ministerial alliance fund. The church quit putting up transients long ago, because too many took advantage of them and they just couldn't justify helping 'out-of-towners' when there were so many in need locally.
We are an odd lot around here, you know, so up on our Christian values and morals and such Scrooges with our lives and wealth. Kinda makes me ashamed of some of the things I've done over the years.
And then the real kicker was when that mother just laid her newborn Baby in my arms as though He was just waiting for me to hold Him. I swear to you, I couldn't look away from His face. He just shone so bright there in the dark. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure whether I was holding Him or He was holding me. All of the crap of my life just seemed to melt away there, looking into His eyes. I almost couldn't stand it.
There were a few others from around the fields who came in, too. Some on tractors, some walking, a few on four-wheelers, but all of us from the countryside. No townies. And we all just stood around in awe until the dad said they really needed to go. Old Maggie ran back across the road to her home and got some sandwiches and put some soup in an old thermos for them, and Orville offered them a lift in his grain truck if they could just wait for a bit for him to go home and get it. They couldn't, but they thanked him and all of us for sharing this special moment, then just walked on down the road as though driven by something none of us could understand."
"You don't know where they are now?" the wise man asked.
"No," the storyteller said, "but, I suspect if you head on North out of town and get away from all of us 'know-it-alls', you'll have a better chance of running across them where maybe they've found a place they're welcome. I wish you good luck in your search."
"What are you going to do now, now that you met them?" asked the wise man. "I'm not sure," said the storyteller, "but I think I am going to go back out and finish disking the field I was in last night. I wasn't sure what to do when they walked away, but felt compelled to come here and wait. Can't tell you why, but when you walked in I knew I had to tell you the story. I think you're the one I was to talk to. Now I can go back to what I was doing, but I don't think things in my life will ever be the same."
Then she got up and walked away leaving the wise man to wonder about what he heard.
"Someday I'll find Him," he thought, "and I pray I am only half as awed as that woman who got to see Him the night when He was born." And on walked the wise man, searching still for the One who transforms with a look.
May you find Him in your heart and may your life be changed forevermore.

A New Beatitude

A new Beatitude for the modern age:
'Blessed are those who dwell among folk with remarkable camera skills, for they shall see the Presence of God anew.'
This morning I am inspired by two among God's children who have such gifts, Father Jerry Schweitzer and Stephanie Liefer, (FB name, Kirk Stephanie Liefer). Seeing the world through their eyes is an exquisite experience of wonder and faith, and to open one's day by glimpsing creation through the lens of their understanding is ...to see the face of God again and again, making Holy the moments into which we journey together. These two people are as diverse in background as one could imagine, yet are as kindred as the Baptismal waters through which they wade every day, for shared in their DNA is that of being God's children who are open to the movement of the Spirit and willing co-conspirators in announcing the nearness of the Kingdom. Oh, there are many among us who are quite capable of capturing that occasional moment with similar skill, but to be consistent about it, to be immersed in the passion and open to the wonder, those are gifts given to a few . . . and the rest of us are blessed recipients of their grace.
Maybe that is why God sent to earth Jesus: to allow humanity to see God face-to-face through the eyes and heart of One open to God's Imminence. Emmanuel, God With Us, opens our eyes to see God in the wonder of a sunrise, in the beauty of an snowy morning, in the majesty of a lame man walking, in the surprise of woman made whole, in the loveliness of a child being given new life, in the marvel of a dead man being released from his grave clothes, in the awe of sins forgiven, even . . . perhaps especially, in the splendor of His own empty tomb. 'Come, come and see God as I know God,' says Jesus, as He touches the leper and embraces the adultery of our living. 'Open your eyes and perceive how close God is,' speaks the Child, as even the hem of His robe heals the nations and causes to cease the flowing blood of long held wounds and despair.
'Blessed are those who dwell among folk with remarkable camera skills, for they shall see the Presence of God anew' . . . and blessed are those who walk in the One Who creates the vistas, Who shapes the wonders, Who opens the eyes of the unseeing, and inspires among us those to share the Vision . . . for to them a Child is born, a Son is given. To them the Kingdom is announced by angel voices. Thanks be to God!
An Advent pondering on the journey to Bethlehem.

Dad Called This Morning

Dad called this morning.

Seeing Dad's name on the Call I.D. as I moved to answer the phone, I quickly thought, "I wonder what's up?" Dad isn't the sort of person who just calls to see how you are. He assumes you are okay until he hears differently. No, usually when Dad calls he is on a mission and this morning was no different.

"Morning, Don, how are you?" is how he began and we chatted a bit about the snow and cold before he asked the particular question for which he was seeking an answer, "Is Ched going to be home for Christmas or do I need to send his gift out to him at the Academy?" There it was, Dad was inside his home, tucked in his office on this cold Winter's morning, working on Christmas cards and Christmas gifts for his grandchildren and he needed to know where they were going to be when the Wagner family gathered for Christmas. Dad, like his father before him, keeps very close tabs on his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, always desiring them to know that they - we - are connected by love and caring every day of our lives. We are family - and Christmas is one of those times in the year when special care is taken to update the mailing list and find out what is happening in each of their lives.

Our conversation immediately sent me back over fifty years ago to memories of my grandfathers, Grandpa Wagner and Grandpa Triefenbach, both of whom lived with us on the farm as I was growing up and both of whom cared deeply for their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and, in Grandpa Wagner's case, great-great-grandchildren. These are people who lived when life was not filled with the 'stuff' of our current age. If you wanted to talk to someone, you went to their home or met them at a social gathering or at church. If you wanted to know what the weather was going to do, you looked up at the sky and combined what you saw with what you observed in the animals on the farm and what you were feeling in your bones. Most often, to go to work was to walk across the yard to the barn or shed, to check what money you had you looked in your wallet or opened the sock drawer and to send word to family who lived 'away' from where you were you sat down and wrote a letter and took it to the Post Office - and waited weeks for their reply. To say my grandparents grew up in a much different time than today is like saying Jesus was Jewish . . . it is just stating the obvious, yet often overlooked, truth.

Still, the one thing that links the generations through the current day is the deep sense of 'family'. At age 97, when Grandpa Wagner had a stroke and knew he could not take care of himself and, being the strong, proud man that he was, he didn't want his kids 'to be burdened' with his care either, he sought out the care of a nearby facility, the New Athens Nursing Home, to tend to his needs. Visiting Grandpa was a regular part of our family's practice, underscoring for him in his final years that which he had established with all of us throughout his entire life, 'You are never alone. We are family.' Walking into Grandpa's room in the Nursing Home was to walk into the Wagner family history for there, on every wall, were the pictures of his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren, but the pictures weren't there just for display . . . no, no, no, the pictures were there so that he could practice naming his descendants each day and, in so doing, keep his mind sharp. It must have worked because whenever we would visit he would ask about everyone by name, nearly right up to the time when he passed from this earth at the age of a hundred and a half year's of age.

Should it surprise me then that, early one morning, not long before Christmas, I would receive a call from my Dad checking in on his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren? I would expect no less. My Dad learned from the best and, perhaps, that is the greatest gift of the season: In inquiring of his family, Dad reminds each of us that, 'You are never alone. We are family.' Maybe that has something to do with why he and Mom made the church community such a central part of our family life and tradition . . . they were instilling in our hearts the abiding and resounding echo of God's inquiry concerning all of humankind through the Gift of Jesus: Early one morning, God called out to all the earth, and said, 'You are never alone. We are family.'

Pushing the 'Off' button on the phone after saying our final, "Good bye" and "I love you!", I smiled and thought, "I have a lot to live up to in my Dad . . . and I am blessed." I pray our children and grandchildren know that, by the way I live and the care I extend to them, 'You are never alone. We are family.' I pray they know the legacy into which they live is the love of family which spans the generations and includes the depth and richness of a vivid faith history. Yet, more than all of this, I pray they know the One whom, in Jesus, speaks those words to every generation and calls us to extend such love to all people for, truly, 'You are never alone. We are Family.' is the soul of God into which we are born anew each day and we can ask no more of Christmas than to celebrate such a Gift being made known.

Advent blessings on the way. Call someone, as God calls you, and let them know, 'You are never alone. We are family.' 

 

I Have Seen Christmas

I have seen Christmas - and it cannot be bought.
I have seen Epiphany - and it is more than a light in the sky.
I have seen Easter - and it cannot be found in a lawn or under a bush.
I have seen Pentecost - and it is more than fire and wind in the air.
I am seeing Jesus . . . and He is more than I can imagine, more than I deserve, yet, we are all wrapped in His grace, sent out in His power, and gifted by His Spirit.
I am seeing Jesus . . . and all else is becoming less and less, for Jesus is the 'More in Life' I truly need.
How about you in this Advent journey?

Remembering Nelson Mandela

Like millions around the world, I am remembering Nelson Mandela today and giving thanks for his life on this earth. A few things I have learned from Nelson Mandela are:
+ God does not desire our occasional nod to the faith whenever it is we remember or have time to attend worship. Mandela teaches us that life lived in faith is worship and to so worship is to walk with God continually, which is God's greatest desire and reason for sending Jesus.
+ Most of us view the 27 years of relative solitary confinement in which Nelson Mandela was interred as an interminable sentence and one few among us could have endured. Mandela teaches us there are some things so meaningful in God that nothing on earth, including the walls of a jail, can stand in their way, justice and equality chief among them.
+ To offer solace to the widow of the man who confined you is to reshape the vision of how one human being is to treat another and expands the meaning of true forgiveness and mercy.
+ To those who initially opposed Nelson Mandela and the freedom movement, including the United States, while supporting the apartheid regimes of South Africa, Mandela offered understanding, inclusion, and grace, modeling the One who from the cross offered the words, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."
+ The sign of a great leader is not the winning of an election, but transformation of the souls around them.
+ Nelson Mandela's legacy in this world is a paraphrase another great example who walked this earth among us, Mother Teresa, 'Not all of us can do great things, but all of us can do small things with great love.'
+ Nelson Mandela never claimed perfection in his life, but lived for mercy among all with whom he journeyed. We can do no less.
+ Nelson Mandela never demanded power, respect or authority, nor was it given him for most of his life. Yet, in the final analysis, I suspect the human race will discover that Mandela lived every single day of his life in the Power, Respect and Authority of the One to whom he bent his knee and in Whom he gained continual confidence and strength, regardless how humanity regarded him. Of such may be his greatest gift, freeing all people to live equitably, unafraid of how others might perceive them.

On this Advent journey, what is it you are expecting, hoping, praying to find in Bethlehem? Take a moment and learn from those who, like Nelson Mandela, spend a lifetime in adoration of the One who comes, then go and do likewise: Serve.
Thank you, Nelson Mandela, for a lifetime of teaching tolerance, acceptance, and the gracious care of God for all. Rest now in the arms of the One who frees you from all chains which ever could bind you on earth.

The Boy's Rooms

I can't tell you what it was that made me do it, but something inside seemed to drive me to walk through each of our boy's rooms in our home and just look around and listen. The nest has been 'empty' now for over three years and, though there is still an occasional visit home, for the most part those rooms sit quiet and undisturbed for the greatest part of the year. Still, my soul needed to see, to hear, to remember . . . to treasure.

One room is now our 'office', complete with a computer desk, file cabinet, chairs and toys for the grandkids to play with when they visit. We don't need to tell them where they are, they know and often head for them as soon as they enter Nana and Papa's home. Another room upstairs is still a bedroom, complete with many of our youngest son's Boy Scout, hand-crafted, sailboats and derby cars. The other room downstairs is, also, still a bedroom and is the place Ched calls 'home' when he is on leave and this room is complete with his plaques, trophies, books and posters from his High School years. Most of what our oldest son, Matthew, accumulated while he was growing up here has now gone into his home. The same is true of our middle son, Raymond's, belongings. Only Ched's personal effects still linger in the downstairs bedroom and will continue to do so until he moves to his first assignment.

Still, as I stand in each of their rooms, I can hear their voices, their laughter, their complaints, their questions and their music. Still, I can smell their colognes, the leftover food they took in their room while cloistered away from their embarrassing parents, their gym clothes, and their sweaty athletic socks and shoes. Still, I can see their clothes strewn about, their school books dropped in the corner, and their unmade beds. Still, I can sense their presence over the years, feel their hugs, and they way it made my heart feel each time they said, as they ran out the door, "Love you, Dad!"

They have all grown up and left our home but, still, so much of them remains and, for such remnants of heart and memory, I give God thanks. Of such does the past shape our present and of such does our present craft the future. In each of these remembering's I am consoled that God is at work and, though often unnoticed and unrealized, each bit of these memories has conspired to inform who they, who we all, are becoming today. God is at work.

Maybe that is why the seasons of Advent and Christmas are so important for the Christian identity. Such specific dates are really irrelevant, as are the itemized listings of who was present and who was not and why, but what remains over all the years is this one simple and profound truth: Emmanuel, God With Us.

Each Advent we journey towards Bethlehem telling and retelling the Birth Narrative, trying to remember every detail and watching, again and again, for the signs of Imminence which God gives. Each Advent we listen for the voices and keen our senses for the sights and smells of Emmanuel's arrival. Each Advent, as wide-eyed children waiting for the Greatest of Gifts, we lean forward in anticipation of God's hug embracing our life and holding us close. Each Advent we look towards the home in which the eternal 'I love you' is birthed - and there cling to Hope such a birthing brings. Each Advent . . . we remember, we treasure, and we move forward in the Peace which quiets the soul and strengthens our resolve to be found ready to receive Him.

Each Advent we stand at the door of the Room . . . and are humbled by that of which we are a part because of God coming to us . . . Emmanuel.

Nancy and I are mightily blessed for so many reasons yet, of all these things, that which we treasure most deeply are the moments our boys and their families come home and the silent rooms are silent no more. Could it be that is exactly how God feels when we gather as the Church in worship, when we circle the Table, when we tell the stories, and when we are as one family in laughter, love and care for one another? Could it be that is exactly how God feels when we say, 'Thank You for the Gift!' or 'We love You!'? Could it be that there, right there in the heart of Bethlehem, we encounter the Truth of how much we are valued by God, regardless of our willingness to come home?

It is certainly something to ponder in these days of Advent, on the journey, telling the Story, remembering and looking forward. Thank you, God, for the Gift of Emmanuel. May we ever delight in His Presence in the home of our hearts.



Ground-Breaking Education

There was a Ground-Breaking Celebration yesterday in Lebanon for the new Grade School which is to replace the current well-aged and nearly crumbling structure. Though my work at the church yesterday prevented me from attending the celebration, I wish I had been there. Each of our children have passed through that building and benefited from those whose gift it has been to teach there and, by extension, Nancy and I have benefited from the instruction and presence of a place and time that has made it possible for our dreams for our children to come to fruition. Yet, not everyone feels this way.

It has been interesting to hear and read the response of some in our community this day who believe that, ". . . since we don't have kids in the schools we shouldn't have to pay for it.", conveying their disdain of their tax dollars being used for services they don't 'personally' receive. Hmmmmm, this got me to thinking . . . .

If one were to extrapolate that notion, I suspect these people are probably paying far too little in taxes. Let me explain: If we were to move to a system of paying taxes to support the services from which we receive direct benefit then, in all likelihood, we would have to be paying to get up in the morning and choose which cereal we eat, what coffee to drink, watch 'free' public television, get on the roads/streets/highways to go to the doctor/work/see our kids/shop, turn on the lights with electricity made possible by utility lines located on public grounds, and the list goes on and on. How do you historically extrapolate the value of an education? That your parents, and their parents, and their parents, and their parents before them could read because someone took the time to teach them how to read . . . or that you can figure out your grocery bill because someone taught you how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide . . . or that you can hold a job because someone, somewhere, taught you how to work hard and how to solve problems with creativity . . . is all the result of someone, somewhere, supporting the notion of education for the benefit of future generations - and provided an appropriate environment for that to happen. Each generation takes their turn in making possible for future generations what those before did for them.

From a religious perspective, what is the value of grace? What is the value of mercy? What is the value of forgiveness? What the value of light in the darkened sky? What is the value of shade from the hot Summer sun? What is the value of a windbreak from the Winter wind's howl? What is the value of water when you are thirsty? What is the value of food when you are hungry? What is the value of a cool breeze in July? What is the value of Spring rain? What is the value of Fall color? If God taxed humankind for such things, what would you and I have to pay? And, of these things, from which do you and I directly benefit? And what have we offered God in return?

If we are really to buy into the notion of 'paying taxes only for the services we personally receive', who among us could afford the life we live or the one we pray to live? Look around the world and take measure of nations and peoples who have little or no education. What is their lot in life? What choices and opportunities do they have? What dreams might they pursue? In this nation, we refer to such places as 'Third World Countries' for a reason: It is precisely because the cost of little or no education is immeasurably higher in human life, spirit and potential.

The very argument that some should be exempt from paying taxes for services from which they don't directly benefit regarding our educational system is an argument of convenient prosperity: they have already derived their benefit from the system and assume they no longer need it, therefore they no longer need support it for others. Oddly enough, those who make such an argument probably need the educational system now more than ever before, for clearly they have missed the civics lesson on mutual accountability and shared responsibility for the public good in advancing cultures.

Now, lest I be misunderstood, I am not giving a blank check to taxing bodies to do with whatever they want in providing buildings, lands, classes and equipment for a 'state of the art' educational system, but I am advocating that we all, everyone of us, have a vested interest in supporting the quality and place of the American educational system in this community. Not only does Lebanon need to keep moving forward in providing the best possible environment and educators for our children, but the world is depending on our doing it. If you don't believe it, do a careful review of those whom have graduated from Lebanon over the years . . . then assess the difference each of them has made in the world. Truly, it is incalculable.

When it comes to the place of education in our world, your children are our children and our children are your children . . . and the children to come are our children . . . just as those who were before us viewed and supported us as their children. Transforming Washington, D.C. or changing world power politics or making global advancements in the treatment of diseases begins - and is sustained by - the local educational system, and we are all continual recipients of what happens there. It is our privilege to continue providing such a gift to generations to come.