Black this Morning

Every morning when I come down several things are waiting to be opened, that help make life more interesting. Not that life needs help, it’s interesting as it is, even left alone like the black coffee in the Navy-style mug that says “Life is good” and “Do what you like. Like what you do.” Coffee that now and then gets a sprinkle of black pepper, or cinnamon, or a splash of milk, or a little cup of Linda’s french vanilla whitener. Or this time of year when she makes pumpkin pie, a dollop of thick whipped cream. Black this morning.

But the laptop ... in the email there’s always delanceyplace. Sometimes a welcome email from a friend, today some old historic Navy pictures from MJ -- 

the battleship reminds me that Captain Brown who ran USS MISSOURI aground was once the CO of our Navy base here, and a member of our church and a friend, how sad my parents were when the grounding ended his career. Only this week I said I’d never missed the Navy but sometimes I wonder if I lied to myself. No, memories change reality, e.g., this old house is not as enormous as it was the first time I came in here nearly seventy years ago: not the house, it’s me, I was way different then. Sometimes memory is better than reality was. Or worse.

This morning the delanceyplace selection talks about our system of imprisoning people, physically, psychologically, the effect on children when their mother is in prison, that it’s really the children who are punished, with catastrophic effect both personal and societal. It will never change, our society is too enormous and members too self-absorbed for there to be social change like Women’s Suffrage, to change how we treat people, ... love neighbor and that. Or to be as obsessed with medical care for the children we didn’t want aborted as we were obsessed with not aborting them in the first place, some kind of national obtuseness, blindness in a society that thinks of itself as "Christian" but is precisely the opposite of the mind of Jesus Christ. Robert Jenson, my theology professor at seminary, once said something about “rights and responsibilities” that took years for my light bulb to come on. These days the light bulb comes on every time some wacko goes into a school and shoots little children.

Best thing waiting this morning, and often so, is Wordsmith with A.Word.A.Day. Sometimes it’s the Word. This morning it’s at the end, the Thought For Today that has nothing to do with the Word. “Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in a while, or the light won't come in.” Alan Alda, actor and director (b. 1936). To me Alan is a TV doctor during the Korean War, never thought of him as a philosopher, or theologian. But then, he was the star and the sensible one, the one with the heart. My age, Alan was the handsome doctor on M*A*S*H, I wonder if he has aged too.

If I were to rework what Alda said, I’d only change “assumptions” to “certainties.” Matter of fact, as a theologically-oriented person, I do try to keep scraping the certitudes off of my windows on the world, life, creation, religion, reality, faith. It’s an ongoing work in progress, because I’ve always been pretty sure of a lot of things. But Steve Jobs helps me -- “Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking.” And now Alan Alda. Scraping off the certainties.        

In the news, federal appeals court lifts two stays of execution for racist serial killer.

Anticipation. Whipped cream in my coffee the end of next week. Granddaughters filling up the house, full up to busting with love. Life is good.

TW+