Dangerous donuts?

In a world filled with real threats, hostilities and hatred — who would think Rachael Ray's Dunkin' Donuts ad would cause a stir?
The spicy little cook's promo was pulled by company execs after a columnist suggested the black-and-white paisley scarf she was wearing in the ad resembled a kiffiyeh, the two-tone checkered design popularized by Yasser Arafat and sometimes associated with terrorism.
Oh, please. Don't we have enough to be concerned about?
Well, I guess one can't be careful enough. Little Rachael could be pouring poisonous EVOO.
But I suspect she's never made anything more explosive than her Spicy Sausage Meatloaf Patties with Italian Barbecue Sauce.

The Gate of Opportunity

A mere 30 years ago tomorrow, I was seated — alphabetically between Terri Pickelsimer and Pam Pinyan — in a folding chair on the spacious lawn of the Berry College Chapel.
Then-U.S. Attorney General Griffin Bell gave the graduation address. And, more importantly, then-college President John Bertrand gave us diplomas.
I remember the striped tie I wore; the mixed feelings of saying good-bye to dear friends; and the pride my parents expressed more with facial expressions than words.
College was an option neither anticipated nor prepared for in my house. But I had worked in a carpet mill, blown insulation into hot attics and mixed mortar for inebriated brick layers. I wanted something different.
My older brother Rob was a strong influence — and blazed the first-generation college trail ahead of me. With a patchwork of loans, grants, scholarships and part-time jobs we both made it to graduation and to graduate school.
So many opportunities for creative work, extensive travel and meaningful interaction with a wide variety of persons have resulted from my educational experiences. More than anything else, education is the defining difference for me.
My life was greatly enriched by caring teachers — like Dr. Jorge Gonzalez and Dr. Bill Hoyt — and a supportive community of friends.
The campus entrance at Berry has long been known as "The Gate of Opportunity." Indeed it was for me.
"Far up in hills of Georgia stands, Old Berry tried and true..."
(The above photo is of Ford Dining Hall, a gift from Henry Ford. It was one of two dining halls during my student days . I chose to work there because of the building's stately architecture and its proximity to women's dorms.)

Passion, obsession or commitment?

Last night, Robert attended his 860th consecutive Atlanta Braves home game. He likes to arrive early, just before the gates open two and a half hours prior to the first pitch.
I catch up with him at the shaded spot where season ticket holders enter — if I've been able to get hold of someone's season tickets for a game.
There Robert transforms himself into "the chief" — with no hint of political correctness. The young man carries his Braves duffel bag from his suburban home to downtown, and then walks several blocks from Underground Atlanta to Turner Field.
Outside the gate, he puts on his costume — and puts back on his running shoes and glasses.
"Chief" always knows the exact number of his consecutive games streak. He also knows baseball, which makes him a fun conversationalist as we await security to open the big iron gates and let us in to watch batting practice.
Attending every home game for a sports team for a decade is quite a feat. I kid him about watching out for buses when crossing the street in order to stay off the disabled list.
He said he had missed only one game in the 12 seasons of Braves baseball at The Ted or his streak would be longer. He did that purposefully to attend his grandmother's 90th birthday celebration.
Apparently, his supervisor at the clothing store in Marietta is supportive of Robert's commitment to the Braves. His work schedule is flexible enough to attend day games as well.
I always enjoy my pre-game conversations with Robert — though I consider it good to catch 20 games a season myself. I can't imagine going to 860 in a row.
Is it passion, obsession or commitment? I don't know. But most churches would welcome members with that kind of willingness to be present regardless of weather or other factors.
And one can bet that Chief Robert will be in the right-field stands just behind Jeff Francoeur again tonight — logging number 861 and cheering for a sweep of the Mets.

(I don't have a photo of Robert. Taking my camera feels too much like work. Maybe later.)

Capturing Prince Caspian

Prince Caspian was the topic of conversation during dinner with my daughters last night. My older daughter had seen the latest Narnia film with some high school friends on Sunday afternoon.
Last Friday, I escorted my younger daughter and some of her fourth-grade classmates to a special showing for their school class. The kids cheered loudly and enjoyed every moment of the film.
I didn't get it. To me, it was two hours and 20 minutes of sword fighting and talking rodents — an exercise of endurance.
But then, our different tastes help make the world more interesting.
Thanks to Cliff Vaughn's good review over at EthicsDaily.com, I understood enough of what I'd seen to converse with my daughters. (Bottom line: fantasy books and films are not my thing.)
My daughters followed the story closely and made emotional connections with the characters — something I clearly failed to do. They related the story to the earlier film — which I had also seen but didn't "get."
There are probably unlimited reasons why we can read the same books or see the same films and come away with very different reactions. Some of it is tied to age, experience and interests.
But it seems that expectation also plays a major role. I did not share my daughters' anticipation of this newly-released film.
The chances of getting something good from an experience are greatly enhanced when we expect such results.
Perhaps I should have given the prince a better shot. But it felt to me like being forced to watch an NBA final while a perfectly good baseball game was on.

Lost in Space

This week Religion News Service carried on article (I also heard about it on CNN) concerning extraterrestrial evangelism — or the lack of a need for it.
According to information in the official Vatican newspaper L'Osservatore Romano,The Rev. Jose Gabriel Funes, director of the Vatican Observatory,said that creatures beyond earth may have never fallen into sin and therefore would not be in need of salvation.
"It is not a given that they have need of redemption," he said according to the report. "They may have remained in full friendship with their Creator."
But the Vatican's top astronomer noted that extraterrestrial creatures could be mired in the sad state of sin like us earthlings as well — and need God's mercy.
Either way, he is not limiting God's creative potential to this one ball we call home.
"Just as a multiplicity of creatures exists on the Earth, so there could be other creatures, even intelligent ones, created by God," he said.
Funes also said the Catholic Church learned some faith-science lessons from its mistreatment of Galileo, the 17th-century astronomer who insisted the earth rotated rather than the sun. Church leaders have become more tolerate of scientific possibilities.
But one must wonder what Baptists might think about this. Perhaps Bold Mission Thrust 2 will be even more challenging than the first.

On the defensive

Southwestern Baptist Seminary President Paige Patterson, one of the architects of the fundamentalist takeover of the Southern Baptist Convention, got downright defensive about reports showing the SBC in decline and fellow Southern Baptists' suggestions that the convention might need to change.
In his Baptist Press commentary, Patterson gave these excuses for declining baptism and membership statistics:
1. Many churches didn't turn in reports.
2. Small membership loss is no big deal.
3. It would have been worse if moderate Baptists were in charge.
4. I'm not mean-spirited; those who call me mean-spirited are mean-spirited.
5. Many young leaders are still in SBC.
6. Suggestions that churches should be more sensitive to culture are misguided.
Patterson steadfastly excuses himself and his cohorts from any blame for creating an unattractive image of the SBC.
"Thrashing the Conservative Renaissance (his new name for the so-called Conservative Resurgence) as though it were somehow responsible for this decline is irresponsible," wrote Patterson.
He sounds more agitated at the current SBC insiders who question the convention's course of exclusion than those he helped exclude from the SBC years ago.
Interestingly, the SBC's problems have nothing to do with nearly three decades of ever-narrowing doctrine and negative resolutions aimed at all sorts of people. According to Patterson, the real problem is simply a lack of prayer, a failure to witness, shallow preaching and seeking to adapt the church to the culture.
Now we get it.

Inspired by failure

Julio Franco didn't reach his goal, but I'm still impressed. He retired from baseball at age 49.
Franco had set a goal of playing major league baseball at the age of 50. He didn't quite make it.
Yet, last year with the Atlanta Braves, he became the oldest player in MLB history to hit a home run. And he did it off "The Big Unit" (Randy Johnson).
His professional career took him to Atlanta, New York (Mets), Cleveland, Texas, Chicago (White Sox), Milwaukee and Tampa Bay. He also played in South Korea, Japan and Mexico.
Franco was playing ball in Mexico this year when he concluded that no major league team was going to call — and his 23-year career was over.
But there is no sadness in Mudville or anywhere else in baseball. Julio was a class act who inspired many.
He was known as a person of integrity and faith. He was also known to snatch a candy bar out of the hand of a teammate half his age — and give him a lecture on healthy habits.
Franco set an unreachable goal for himself. Yet his high aim is probably why he became the oldest major league player to hit a homer, and didn't hang up his cleats until age 49. Well done.

One way to help

The staggering tragedy in Myanmar (Burma) continues to unfold. Some estimate the death toll could climb from more 20,000 to 100,000.
The Burmese people have a special place in the hearts of Baptists. The first U.S overseas missionaries — Adoniram and Ann Hasseltine Judson — went there after being turned away from India.
At great personal cost, the Judsons (who became Baptists en route to their mission service) sacrificially invested their lives in Burma.
Baptists today are responding to the current crisis in multiple ways. Baptist World Aid, the relief arm of the Baptist World Alliance, is coordinating international efforts for Baptists wanting to provide assistance.
One effort is the Norman, Okla.-based His Nets — that provides insecticide treated sleeping nets to prevent the spread of malaria.
This project was started by former Baptist missionary T Thomas, coordinator of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship of Oklahoma, and his daughter Andi. A former missionary family in Africa, the Thomases know first-hand the suffering caused by malaria.
Nets for Burma can be provided for $6 each. Details can be found at this site.

Who keeps the church door?

Delegates to the United Methodist Church General Conference held recently in Fort Worth, Texas, debated — among other things — the role of pastors in determining someone's readiness for membership.
The issue, according to a Religion News Service report, was raised by an Ohio pastor who said her congregation was used.
A bride-to-be joined the church to avoid paying the non-member wedding fee, the pastor reported, and then was never seen after the ceremony. Her only interest in the church was the one-time use of its center aisle.
But quickly the UMC delegates turned the discussion to whether gays and lesbians can be excluded from membership. Of course, many discussions in church life today concern homosexuality. It is the hot-button issue that will not being going away soon.
One delegate in the Fort Worth meeting described the debate as being over discernment of membership versus Christian hospitality.
Many of us remember when an African American joining (or, in some sad cases,only seeking to join) a white congregation was big news. Therefore, restricting the invitation to membership in any way feels uncomfortable.
Yet, on the other hand, one can sympathize with the pastor who picked up on the ulterior motive of the bride-member, but felt she could do nothing about it.
Interestingly, the UMC debate took place in the same town where a Baptist church has recently struggled over whether gay members could be pictured with their partners in the church directory.
The word "hospitality" sounds so gracious. But often the debates over how churches relate to all persons can be less than hospitable.

Less-predictible living

This will be brief. A quick return to writing and editing awaits me.
Deadlines know no difference between weekends and weekdays. But I am not complaining.
I like the flexibility and challenges of demand-based work over punching a time clock.
Yet such a way of living and working is very different from my upbringing.
Everything seemed to have its routine.
Saturdays meant cartoons followed by Western-themed shows like "My Friend Flicka," "Fury," and "Sky King." During baseball season (the best time of the year), Curt Gowdy and Pee Wee Reese brought us the "NBC Game of the Week" (the ONLY baseball game on TV for a whole week).
Sundays were for church and more church. Don't think of mowing the grass.
Weekdays were for work with various and rarely conflicting activities (Boy Scouts, Little League, LIONS Club, etc.) scheduled in the evenings. And no one dared schedule a sporting or civic evening on Wednesday night.
Many of my relatives worked in mills or factories that closed the weeks of July 4 and Christmas. Those were the only times for vacation.
The summer break usually called for a visit to the Smokies where photos could be taken of black bears and Indian chiefs — each one year older than the previous year's shots.
Earlier today I heard Dolly Parton singing "9 to 5". For many of us, work and play are less defined.
It can be a more adventurous way to live — if we are self-starters and good stewards of the gift of time.

Throw this cliche' under the bus

Following the Rev. Jeremiah Wright's controversial public addresses earlier this week, several television commentators were quick to say that the feisty Chicago preacher had thrown his former parishioner under the bus.
Several said it. Several times.
Then Sen. Barack Obama responded by separating himself from Pastor Wright and the positions articulated in those addresses. How were the presidential candidate's comments received?
Talking heads said Sen. Obama had thrown Rev. Wright under the bus. Surprise, surprise.
How about thinking of something new to say? Give it 110 percent. Life wasn't meant to be easy. We've been there; done that. We are not happy campers.