Unlock Those Doors!

Originally written November 9, 2009

     A number of years ago, I came to the place in my spirituality where I decided to broaden my understanding of other churches and ventured beyond my familiar world of Methodism. On one such venture, I met a friend a few minutes early before an evening service at a nondenominational church. We sat down midway into the auditorium and were chatting about the national flags on display when the Pastor stood, letting the congregants know that it was time to begin. As soon as the pastor reached the podium, he motioned to the usher and said, "Okay, you can lock the doors now." Aaaaaaaaaack! Can you imagine the fear that invited to a traditional, naive I'm just visiting person?

     He was joking, naturally. My friend only stopped laughing when she saw my pale face and my search for the door as I calculated how long it would take me to run for the exit. My exact thought was, "Not before I get out of here, you don't." The pastor himself made eye contact with me (or because Jesus loves me it just seemed that way) and calmed my fears by assuring me that I wasn't part of a captive audience. By the end of the service, I laughed with my friend about the "locked doors," and before we left the state, I visited my new friends several more times.

     Reflection on that moment of stark fear taught me a lesson: I am capable of judging and dismissing anyone if I am afraid and ignorant. All of us are. It isn't something we should do, but we are each capable of it. In a second of fear and misperceived context, I judged the church and the pastor "wrong." My survivor instinct screamed, "Get out! Now! Door's in the back. Move!" Had I known this church better, felt safer and understood more, my reaction would have been a polite chuckle. I probably would have joined in the joke in my own church. Because comfort levels radically affect willingness to participate, I initially misjudged the incident and was fully prepared to bolt. Had I left, I would have missed a blessing.

     Now that I'm grown up, I don't make this mistake. I wish. I am better at not judging now than I was then, or even last year, and hopefully, yesterday. All of us can grow in compassion by analyzing our behavior and the motivation fueling behavior. Far too often, we allow fear of the unknown (what we are ignorant of) to rule out new experiences from which we would have greatly benefited. And beyond experience, we put barriers in front of places, people, and even God. Danger arrives with the persistence to remain behind the barriers. It isn't that we allow ourselves to get locked in, we stubbornly grab the keys and lock ourselves out. Tragic.

For My Nephew, Michael

Originally written November 6, 2009

The most striking factor about tragedy is the way in which it intrudes on our comfortable routines changing us forever. Countless writers commented on the normality of the 9/11 morning. People woke up, ate breakfast, dressed, and left for work just like every other day. This same type of shock slapped our nation yesterday as we learned that Major Nadal Malik Hassan killed 13 soldiers at Fort Hood as they prepared to deploy. Immediately, questions concerning Hassan's religious and political loyalty were raised in search of explanation.

But no explanation will satisfy the hearts of the victims' colleagues, families, and friends. The audacity of an American soldier striking his brothers and sisters-at arms, possibly endangering military dependents, on their home base wounds deeply and has resulted in demands for justice. As individuals and as a nation, we must avoid reacting poorly so that we are free to offer an appropriate response.

First, we can respond with support to our military. The website http://troopssupport.com/contains an index of organizations that accomplishes this feat. All of us can choose one or several with whom to link ourselves and begin! Because of my personal associations with military families, I have witnessed the positive affect these acts of kindness have on the morale of our troops. Also, pray for our military and their families. The very action of lifting them before God can help us discover new ways to help.

Second, we can respond with wisdom and sober minds, avoiding emotionally-charged traps like blanketed accusations. Nadal Malik Hassan murdered the 13 soldiers at Fort Hood. I am positive that how his vocal opposition to the wars in Iraq escaped more drastic intervention will be ironed out in the weeks to come. No evidence suggests that he acted on behalf of a Muslim community anywhere, so holding all Muslims responsible would be a serious error. All accountability rests with the criminal, not his religious affiliation. Saying that he did this deed because he was Muslim with the assertion that all Muslims do those things is just as wrong as saying he did this deed because he was in the Army and all Army soldiers do those things. 

I learned about Fort Hood yesterday between Reading and English classes. My first thoughts focused on my nephew, currently serving in Iraq. He is a young man with most of his life yet to live. He plans to get married and raise a family even as he risks his life daily for this country. His entire family loves him passionately and we would each be devastated should we lose him. For the families of the victims at Fort Hood, the hum of life has turned to static as the reality of this event settles into their souls and a new normal, life without someone dearly loved, begins. My heart is broken for them all--May God comfort each one.

Twittering Voices

     "I thought twitter was only for famous people," my niece announced when I told her I had created a twitter account.  It is for famous people, I explained,  but it is also for Jane shmuckalinas, like me. I have no claim to fame. I haven't published a novel or performed with a world-renowned orchestra. I'm not an actress, comedian, or reality star. I'm not likely to be "discovered" by anyone except my students as they begin ENG 101. Yet, I have a twitter account that I absolutely adore. Perhaps I am still in an awe-struck stage. After all, I "follow" an  impressive list of people ranging from authors who also have appearances in my kindle and on my book shelves to musicians paid to perform, conduct or write about classical music across America and Europe. I was almost late for one of my son's high school band performances because THE Paulo Coelho was sponsoring a LIVE Twitcam. I couldn't miss it. Besides, I made it before half-time!

     Twittering has connected my ears to voices immersed in old and new interests, primarily books and classical music. In addition to twitcams, this medium offers me inspirational quotes, quirky comments that cause me to laugh,  links to informative articles that I haven't been privy to on Facebook or the local news, and most treasured, conversation with an author of a genre with which I am only vaguely familiar, but enjoying immensely.  All these voices remind me how large this world is and how many people love the same things I do. Tonight, I read my tweets as I listened to Chopin. Nothing adds drama like "Rondo For Two Pianos in C."