Eat Turkey and Be Nice

One November morning a number of years ago, I was leading a chapel service at school. I asked if someone could tell me what they did at Thanksgiving. A little girl named Skyler raised her hand, and I called on her. "What do you do at Thanksgiving, Skyler?"

The first-grader's answer was succinct. In her pronounced southern drawl, she answered, "Ya eat turkey and be nice." I was struck with the thought that this may have been the most apt description I had ever heard of what most of us do at Thanksgiving.

Everyone has experienced this kind of Thanksgiving, haven't they? Some of us do it every year. You just go, or receive guests, whether you actually like them or not, grit your teeth, smile insincerely, and "be nice". Once after a family wedding, one of my sisters coommented about the newest member of the family, "Well, there's another person we don't like that we have to be nice to on major holidays." Somehow, I think the meaning of Thanksgiving has become lost in all of this.

I'm not suggesting, obviously, that we should be rude to anyone, or refuse to have certain people over for Thanksgiving. I'm not even suggesting that there isn't a place for the insincere smile and the reluctant hearty handshake. Certainly, nothing is accomplished or gained by hurting feelings or causing family disunity. What I am suggesting is that we stop looking at Thanksgiving as a pain-in-the-butt holiday where we have to be polite to people we don't care for, and start remembering what the purpose of the holiday is.

Anybody who goes shopping in America knows that the Christmas season now begins, at least in the commercial sense, at least two weeks before Halloween. Many may not know that Halloween itself is now second only to Christmas in terms of consumer spending. Somehow, Thanksgiving has become the day between these two big money-makers that gets largely lost. It isn't as easy as one might think to find a Thanksgiving centerpiece, say, or a pack of Thanksgiving plates or napkins. Halloween and, unfortunately, Christmas as well, have turned into major "gimmee" holidays. Gimmee some candy, gimmee some presents. Ever and always, we want more.

But what about what we already have? Arguably, I am the poorest person, financially, that I know. All my friends live in nicer houses than mine. Most of them can afford clothes that I can't. Some drive better cars, and many seem to have a whole lot more disposable income than I do (which isn't very hard, since my disposable income at the moment is, like, zero). However, I have long since ceased to feel any obligation to keep up with or impress anyone. If I want to compare my situation to somebody else's, there are plenty of people, here and abroad, who are a lot worse off than I am. So what if I can't afford the new sweater I want? I already have a lot of sweaters. Can't afford to go out to eat? I have plenty of food in my pantry. Can't afford a vacation? There are beautiful places with spectacular views and cheap fun within hours or less of my house.

Millions of people around the world went to sleep hungry last night. I didn't. Many, right this moment, are listening to the sound of gunfire nearby as war or civil unrest approaches their very doorstep. I am listening to music. Right now, there are people huddled in makeshift shelters trying to stay warm. My house ain't much, but I'm not freezing. I could go on for quite some time, but you get the picture.

God blesses some people more than others materially speaking, and I don't know why. I only know he loves each of us, and that I am more blessed than many people in regards to material wealth. So is anyone who is able to read this, I suspect.

So, when you're shaking the hand of the brother-in-law you can't stand, thank God for your marriage. When you are hugging the aunt whom you know, before the day is over, will have hurt someone's feelings, say a prayer of thanksgiving that you have food and enough to share. When you're slapping the back of the annoying neighbor you invited because you know he would be alone if you didn't, be grateful for your friends and your family.

So, yeah, eat turkey and be nice. It goes with the territory. But be thankful, too. When you say the blessing before the meal, don't just give a stock prayer. Think, really think, about what you have to be grateful for, and about the One to whom the gratitude is due. But be careful; the list, you will find, is very long. And nobody likes cold mashed potatoes.

Empty Boots: The Terrible Consequences of Political Correctness

Today is Veteran's Day, a day we remember and celebrate the service of all those who have offered themselves up in the cause of freedom. It seems the least we can do to honor the men and women who have been willing, over the centuries, to serve and even to die so that you and I could enjoy the privileges of liberty. No matter what one thinks about any particular war, this is always the ultmate cause--freedom.

But there is a saying, an old one: "Your freedom to swing your arm ends where my nose begins." Have we so misinterpreted what it means to be free in this country that we have crossed that nose-hitting line? I believe so. The line was crossed in a huge way last Thursday, with the murder of thirteen innocent people who were only going about their business as their nation had called them to do.

I could not watch yesterday's memorial service. One look at those empty boots, and I was a total basket case. I wasn't just sad; I was infuriated. This was completely preventable. That becomes more evident each day, as more information comes to light about the perpetrator. This guy should have been booted out of the military, and probably arrested for treason. It makes me sort of sick to think that there were people who knew, and did nothing.

There is no such thing as a "benign" communication between a member of the U.S. military and a militant jihadist. Even if the communications were only one way, this is a bad, bad sign. And there were people who knew; but in the name of political correctness, nothing was done. Since when was the fear of offending somebody greater than the value we place on human life, or on the protection of our country? There are things that I know most of our soldiers would be willing to die for, but I doubt that this kind of misplaced "tolerance" is one of them. Political correctness has finally come to its final, logical conclusion at Fort Hood. We would rather risk having people die than risk offending someone.

Interestingly, it's perfectly okay in this country to offend Christians. It is done every day. But Muslims? No. This has been true since shortly after 9/11, when public schools began teaching students tolerance for Muslim beliefs. I realize that there are peaceful Muslims, but we have to recognize that, increasingly, those Muslims are being converted to extremism. We have to start caring more about our safety and the safety of our country than we do about offending someone. The deaths of the people at Fort Hood were tragic, but they were also flat-out stupid. I doubt that any one of them would have been willing to die in such a senseless, predictable, and avoidable manner, had they been asked.

To our military and government leaders, I say this: If you fear the loss of diversity, if you fear a backlash against Muslims, then don't ever let such a thing happen again. Be the leaders you have been called to be, and have the courage to call a spade a spade. Your spineless political correctness was the direct cause of last week's massacre. Learn from it.

Titus and the Unlovable

So there's this little book near the back of the Bible--the book of Titus. I sort of re-discovered it a few years back when I was looking for a creative idea for a chapel at school. I ended up developing a first-person dramatic presentation which has gone over pretty well each time I've done it. But here's the thing: Titus may be bigger than we think. You almost never hear anybody preach from it, or even talk about it; and yet, it contains one of the most important messages that we can hear.

Titus was probably an educated, rathe erudite young man with an upscale sort of background. I can imagine his somewhat intellectual approach to the faith, and I figure that he very quickly thought he had things all figured out. He must have been pretty excited when Paul invited him to go along to Crete, and even more excited to arrive there. Crete is, after all, an island in the Mediterranean. Imagine this kid standing in the prow of the ship as it approached, the clear blue water all around, the white sand of the beach in sight. He must have thought he had arrived in Paradise--until he got out of that boat.

Once he began to move among the people, I can picture Titus' disgust as what he was seeing. The Scripture is pretty plain about these Cretans. They were lazy, gluttonous, violent, and downright barbaric. Even today, the word "cretin" is not a compliment. No one wanted to be around these people, and of course they must have been amazed at hearing the Word. Unconditional love was not really in their repertoire of ideas, after all. These were people who fought and argued because they liked it--it was a way of life.

The Gospel changed all that, of course. Or did it? If you read Paul's letter to Titus, it seems pretty evident that most of the Cretans did not change overnight just because they were converted to Christianity. Is that really a surprise, though? Almost nobody really changes dramatically overnight just because they accept Christ. We are all works in progress, or at least we should be. If we aren't moving forward and growing all the time, we are stagnant in the faith.

So here's young Titus, probably quite appalled at the behavior of these disgusting folks, and shocked that their conversion hasn't immediately turned them into--well, him. I mean, most of us think that everybody would be fine if they were just more like us. Can you imagine Titus' reaction when he realized that Paul was leaving Crete and leaving him, Titus, behind? I can hear him, I think. "Paul, no. Are you kidding? I can't stay here with these people. Not alone. Please, take me home." Or something similar to that. But leave Paul did, with Titus remaining behind to contend with these unruly folks.

I have a picture in my mind of Titus running to the beach to meet the boat that brought that precious letter from his mentor and friend. I imagine him excitedly unrolling the scroll and beginning to read. He was probably expecting to be ordered back to Greece, but instead, he received instructions on how to teach these people. He must have thought that Paul was joking! THESE people? Temperate and self-controlled? Subject to authority? HUH??????

But Paul wasn't kidding. He really meant for Titus to teach these things. To do that, thought, Titus had to do something else first. He had to learn to love them. For me, this is the heart of the whole book. As a teacher, I believe teaching of all kinds is relational. Kids and adults alike will listen to, respect, and obey people they know care for them. Separate from a relationship, teaching doesn't work all that well. So Titus had to learn to love these exceedingly unlovely and unlovable people. These Cretans who, quite frankly, probably grossed him out, had been given to him by God to love. What a stretch that would have been for him.

We all, at some point, are called to love somebody it isn't easy to love. We all have those times and moments when we simply want to turn away or run away from somebody we just don't like or don't relate to. But that's not what Titus teaches us.

Paul ultimately reminds Titus that he was once a sinner, too, unsaved and unlovely in the eyes of God. And yet, God loves us all enough to save us anyway, in spite of ourselves. Our love toward others is to be an echo of that love; that sacrificial, intentional love that Christ showed the world from the cross. "Father, forgive them. They don't know what they are doing." If Jesus, on the cross, could pray for his tormenters, ought we not to love in the same way? The lesson of Titus, I think, is to love when love is difficult; to teach by example whether people want to learn or not, and to be always aware of our own shortcomings and original condition.

My challenge to myself and anyone who reads this is this: Love until it hurts. Love when it is hard. Love when love is not returned. Love no matter what. People will listen once they are convinced of your love for them. But be advised--some people are hard to convince. So above all, love with great persistence. The payoff may be the rejoicing of the angels.