WORK--You won't return home without it

As one, who, from the outset of this corpus of little essays, reflections, and observations, acknowledged the positive influence of great men, I also gratefully acknowledge the profound influence of the great women in my life (particularly my wives) and add with this essay yet another to my pantheon.  As a female counterpart to the astute Christian mentor of many of us—C. S. Lewis—I add his British contemporary, Dorothy L. Sayers (1893-1957)—essayist, novelist, poet, theologian, dramatist and scholar. In 1942 she published an essay titled ‘Vocation in Work’, in  A Christian Basis for the Post War World (WW II). When I read her essay, I immediately resonated to it.  It helped gel my views on the value of work, which I give here.

For us in our time work is often viewed as but a means to some (we think) higher—usually some economic, commercial, or leisure-focused—end. I, Ms. Sayers, and other old- schoolers would suggest a contrary view.  The economic end taken alone or intentionally chosen over other options is ultimately a dead end.

In the opening years of the 1940’s, a time of economic uncertainty, a coalition of religious leaders in Britain concluded that “the sense of a Divine vocation must be restored to a man’s daily work.” An esteemed leader in the Church to which I belong some ten years earlier voiced a similar plea: “Let us as a people re-enthrone work as a guiding principle in our lives” (Heber J. Grant). He said this in response to the troubles of the early years of the Great Depression in this country which soon spread to Europe.

‘Restored?’ ‘Re-enthroned?’

 As much as this prescient man knew that people needed food, they needed hope; they needed purpose; they needed vision; they needed meaningful work and work needed them.

Mr. Grant posed a more correct view of work than the usual, by traditional religious interpretations, rather negative interpretation of the so-thought-of work from the beginning of life on earth as being the ‘curse of Adam’: “Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life . . . in the sweat of thy face shall thou eat bread, (i.e., you must work) till thou return unto the ground; for out of it thou wast taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return” (Genesis 3: 17, 19).

But look closer.  Notice that the ground was cursed, not Adam (man). The antecedent for the ‘curse’—the partaking of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil—by our first parents was, rather, to become the catalyst for God’s gracious response. Readers of scripture also seemed to overlook the caveat in that verse, “for thy sake.” Because of this choice God sent to earth a Divine Redeemer—to redeem fallen man and to redeem the fallen earth.  It was all part of the plan. 

Remember, too, before Adam partook of the fruit of the tree, he was told to “dress this garden (Eden); keep it (or take good care of it).” He was moreover given dominion (stewardship) of all living things and the Earth itself. To me that means purposeful, productive, meaningful and rewarding work was his (Adam’s—man’s) charge, but would now be carried out in a different venue—in a world where things wouldn’t be so easy for him. He would be required to constantly make choices. He learned that the Creator Himself not only valued work, but it was the very thing that comprised the focus of His—God’s—life. Moses, recorded God as revealing to him God’s purpose in the creation of man: “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Pearl of Great Price, Moses 1:39).  God set the pattern; meaningful work was to be man’s work also.  Man needed to work out his salvation but to keep God in the equation because he couldn’t do it alone. 

To repeat: God was and is a creator—that is His work.   Man should be a creator also—that is his work.

And how is it done?  It is for us to turn to our own work—whatever we are motivated to do, whatever we are called to do, whenever we can do it.  Serve work that is intrinsically compelling for you—something that you can be really good at if you will discipline yourself to put in the time. If it is good for you (and it will be if you are creative, that is, you too are a creator) it will surely be good for others.  But note this caution: your chosen vocation will not necessarily be found by simply looking within and finding your passion, as graduation speakers are prone to say, but rather by looking without and asking what life is asking of you.  When you ask, ask to know what life is calling you to do.  And then do it.

 One who follows this pattern will be satisfied because he will have lived a life of purpose—and you will always find it will include other people and that your vocation in some way served them. 

A divine vocation will always serve others.

MAINTENANCE and ENTROPY

As a young person I took a lot for granted.  I guess I just assumed that if things were good when I wanted to use them, they would be good when I was finished with them.  If I wanted to use dad’s truck, for example, all I had to do was ask and then put some gas in it after I used it. I didn’t think there was much more to it. I didn’t realize, or think about it, that Dad took care of everything I didn’t see.

As I got older and got my first car I quickly realized there was much more to it than just saving up money to buy the car.  There was insurance.  There was an annual automobile registration and license. There were innumerable repairs that needed to be made to a second or third hand automobile. And, I found, the thing just wore out and continued to get older by the day.  Moreover, I had to maintain a good driving record to have the privilege of driving on roads that I didn’t build or maintain myself.

There were owner responsibilities to maintaining my investment. 

I have always (in my mid-years and beyond) been impressed with the commercial advertisement run many years ago by the Midas muffler and brake shop: “Pay me now – or pay me later,” meaning, take care of your vehicle maintenance now or pay me ‘big time’ for a repair job later when the thing breaks because you neglected it.

The concepts of maintenance and neglect carry over to where you live and other possessions as well as to your health, to your job, and to human relationships.  You can’t just take for granted that everything will stay the same as when you first took interest in whatever it was. 

I have learned that you must give proactive attention to all these things.  You must pay a small price early on, or every day, to keep what you’ve got in good repair.  Moreover, you must make further investments in the object of your interest or need.  It will, like you, get older and need ever-increasing attention and care. Even your education (temporal and spiritual) need regular attention, maintenance, and upgrading.  If you just let things slide you will regret it.  If you let it slide too long, the thing you once valued will be destroyed.

There is a physical law called the Law of Entropy that says that everything in the universe is running down and tends toward disorganization and eventually wins all battles.  That may be true in the physical universe but it doesn’t have to be true in one’s spiritual life. 

Think about it.  Then fight entropy in all areas of your life with maintenance, and better yet, with proactive attention. The tools are out there. 

ETIQUETTE and peoples' names

Except for in golf, or in concerns about where the silverware is placed on the dining room table when ‘company’ is coming over, few people of generation Y or Millennials (born 1981-1996), and even fewer of generation Z  (born between about 1997-2015 or t.b.d.) know or care much about the concept of etiquette in social settings. Generation X (born 1965-1980) had other things on their mind.

But these behaviors were more-or-less drilled into the baby-boomers (born 1946-1964) and taken for granted by earlier generations in the Western World. [Generational cohort designations are provided by Pew Research Center.] I’m of the overlapping generation between baby-boomers and traditionalists who took it for granted and, lest we forget, had it drilled into us by our teachers and some of our parents and surely our grandmothers.  

I am not too concerned about the complexities of table manners and first-time formal introductions, but I am concerned about the principles of respect and the value of certain traditions that, I am convinced, go far to maintaining our very civilization.  Awareness of conventions of etiquette is a part of any good education.

I use as an example of these concerns respect for persons’ names, positions, gender and age as an important starting point.  Names are important to people. Demonstrating a lack of respect or courtesy is not necessarily a moral failure, but it surely and quickly pegs the person doing so in a negative manner—such as in interviews, introductions, and interactions with older, higher social status or ‘better-off’ people—and  contributes to stereotyping of a category (as I’ve done with the Millennial generation whose education in this regard is wanting). When traditional conventions are maintained, however, the person maintaining them is elevated in the eyes of he or she who is honored.  It is worthwhile knowing these things.

Let me show you how this works:  When being introduced to a person it is good etiquette to call him or her by their formal names: Mr. Robert Jones, or Miss Barbara Wilson (Mr. Jones or Miss Wilson will do). Do not call them by their surname (last name) alone, or by the nickname you may hear their peers call them (e.g., ‘Bobbie’ for Robert or ‘Babs’ for Barbara) or even their given first name, Robert or Barbara, but rather by  their title, Mr., Miss, Mrs., Dr., President, Captain, Elder, Sister, Your Honor, Officer or other honorific or appropriate formal titles.  And then, until told otherwise, or time and circumstance dictate, continue this practice. Later, less formal means of address may be employed, but still using the words, sir or ma’am, or miss does not hurt.   

Though it is common, a younger person should not use the term ‘you guys’ to adults older than you—especially when women are among those addressed; they are not 'guys.'  Rather, you might use the term, ‘you folks;’  and ‘ladies,’ and ‘gentlemen’ is almost always appropriate even when addressing young people or athletes in a group setting.

When in a totally informal setting, one-on-one, especially when invited by the person you wish to address asks you to call them by a certain name then do it.  But even then, when you and this person are in a group retain the more formal address out of respect.

Being sloppy or casual about names or titles is just one symptom of a lessening of respect honoring traditions and courtesy in general.  Sloppy speech, insensitive, insulting and offensive language and dress, and failure to respect customs and culture also contribute to a degrading of civilization.

I would highly recommend the reader to spend a little time with a good college dictionary which likely would contain a reference supplement or index to useful features which addresses issues of political or cultural ‘correctness.’  One that I use with regularity is the Random House Webster’s College Dictionary.

If I were to write a longer essay I would add to it, because we are living in such a super-sensitive, divisive world, information on sexism, race, ethnicity, and national origin, ageism, depersonalization of individuals with disabilities or illnesses, patronizing or demeaning expressions, and avoiding language that excludes or unnecessarily emphasizes differences. 

But even then, you would likely offend someone.  I knew I would on my recent essay on 'Abortion,' but the seriousness of the subject overrode niceties of etiquette. 

Welcome to the 21^st Century.   

AN EARLY FATHER'S DAY TRIBUTE

I am getting this posting off at the last moment, the 31^st day of March, because I have had a nagging feeling that I needed to put down what someone, who reads these things, needs to hear. I also put them down because I need to say them.  And I do it because I’ve been thinking about my father who died eight years ago. Dad was a mechanic—a man who fixed things.

My dad and I were never particularly close; he was pragmatic and I had, he said, my ‘head in the clouds’.  I was in awe of his tenacious ability to figure out mechanical things.  I resented his disrespect of education, or better, of 'educated' people and 'book knowledge', but I respected him and I knew that he always had my welfare in mind, and most importantly I knew that he loved my mother.  That may be the most important thing a father can do for his children-- love their mother.

That which follows are positive things that others have learned from their fathers that I connect with and remind me of my dad because he said similar things:

·        If you can’t find time to do it right the first time, how are you going to find time to do it over again? (Dad said this often.)

·        Do what you have to do first, and what you want to do second.

·        Get to know and show respect for clerks and secretaries; they are the gatekeepers. 

·        Don’t let other people’s actions govern yours.

·        If you ever get taken to jail, don’t waste your one phone call calling home.

·        Don’t brag; it’s not the whistle that pulls the train. 

·        Never replace just one spark plug.

·        Drive with care.  Life has no spare. 

·        If you work with your hands you will never go hungry. 

·        Practice hard.  You’ll play the way you practiced.

·        A clear conscience is a soft pillow.

·        If you got something you didn’t work for, then someone else worked for something they didn’t get. 

·        You’d be amazed what you can do when you have to.  

Thanks, Dad(s)

GRADATIONS in JUDGMENT

The concept of gradations in judgment is so ubiquitous in our life experience that we have maybe never given it much thought—or maybe it is all we think about.  A few examples:  as a student in school we may have been obsessed (or not) with our grades, A, B, C, D, or F; or in the choosing players for a team or being accepted for a university whether or not we made the ‘cut’;  if we were on diving or gymnastics or dance team our score on a scale of 1-10 the judges gave us on our performance; as an engineer or designer or technician whether our product was within ‘tolerances’ or specifications; or if we were still under our mother’s supervision whether our bedroom was ‘clean.’ 

The fact is, we are constantly being judged for good or for ill based on standards. Usually people other than ourselves set the standards and make the judgments (chances are, your mother’s standard of a clean room is of a higher standard than yours). We need to know the standards—the rules, the expectations.  We need to know what rewards us, what is ‘good enough,’ and what disqualifies us.

Standards of judgment are not just hurdles or obstacles we must overcome; they are guidelines of what we need to do to be acceptable, safe, or successful. View them as such; balking against them or disregarding them often just retards our progress.

What often confuses us, though, is that things that are presented to us are not always black or white. They may be near-black, or near-white or any degree of gradation that blurs our vision or compromises our performance or character. They could be, God-forbid, Fifty Shades of Grey (which I did not read or see), or the Sirens in Homer’s The Odyssey that the sojourners were warned not to hear.  They may be sounds that are soft or loud, or somewhere on the decibel scale that we cannot detect or that may damage our eardrums. They could be speeds that expedite our arrival at our desired destinations or they could put us out-of-control and kill us or others. They may be quality of goods such as a Rolex watch or Mercedes Benz automobile that could give us fine service, or they may be a Yugo—junk—or somewhere in between. In most of our lives we settle for something in between. 

So how do we judge and what do we settle for? 

I would suggest that we seek out the best as our standard and draw a line in the sand beneath or behind which we will not go.  For example, we will not go to a bar or a terrorist recruiting rally to find a virtuous potential mate.  We will not hang out whiling-away our hours in a smoke-filled pool hall if we hope to prepare ourselves to take the LSAT or MCAT.  We will not feed with the chickens if we hope to fly with the eagles.

We will establish or embrace a scale that has parameters or guidelines for judgment and we will stay between those lines—always leaning toward the upward end of the continuum. We identify our values, cull out those things, people, and products or activities that don’t measure up to minimum standards, and we let our educated conscience be our guide. I put the stress on ‘educated.’ It becomes ‘educated’ by reading out of the best books, seeking out the best people, and not blunting our God-given conscience by disregarding its promptings.

  And this is key: We will make up our minds ahead of time and remember our rules and standards of judgment every day before we step out into the arena of our world.   

A BOY'S LIFE (a little biography)

At the outset I must say that I wouldn’t trade my life with anyone.  It has been a happy life.  Secondly, I acknowledge that I have had models—even  heroes and that their influence has been enormous.  Many of these models and heroes were recognized at a young age and many vicariously came to my attention through reading. Thirdly, I considered myself then and even now to be a very average person in terms of my natural endowments, but I have accomplished some things that continue to amaze me. They may not be as amazing or funny as the life of author Bill Bryson who lived in the same era as me (Bryson wrote about his life in The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid) but there are some parallels with his boyhood in my boyhood and probably in nearly every boys’ life if they grew up in the United States ‘50’s . My life, to the contrary of some old Pennsylvania(where I was born) adages, belies the notion that ‘you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.’ I have been made into something, thanks to answers to my prayers and being around the right people and staying away from the wrong people. For what it’s worth, I should mention that I was an early 'Baby Boomer,' at the end of ‘the Greatest Generation,' living the life of a middle-class white Christian youth in a suburban neighborhood. 

So I begin with my boyhood.  Pertaining to the title, yes, I used to read Boy’s Life. It, along with Outdoor Life, and Sport magazine, and the Scout Handbook were staples of my reading from about age 10-13.  I also liked the early editions of Mad magazine and other comic books featuring Superman and the like.  Of course I also read many adventure and outdoor books and daily read the sports page and funny page of our local newspaper.  And I read and wore out my King James Bible, given to all the young people of the church I attended by the pastor of a protestant church in my hometown.  In this I was following the example of an early hero, Abraham Lincoln.  As a young boy I loved to play outdoors since my trailer home didn’t have much of an indoors. My more organized life seemed to begin around age 10 with Cub Scouts and fireworks (sounds strange, I know) and attending a concert by the U.S. Air Force band which stimulated my desire to participate in a band in the horn section. 

 But I get ahead of myself. 

I had an ancestry of German and Italian parentage, a ‘back East’ infancy, and an ‘out West’ childhood and a home for the first eight years of my life in a 28’ house trailer without a bathroom, a refrigerator, a television or an air conditioner. We did have a little a.m. radio. My personal possessions were a baseball and glove and bat, marbles, yo-yo’s, some model planes and cars, and stuff I could find or trade for. I also had two younger brothers and a dog.

My sentient life began from about age 11 when I entered junior high school and centered around baseball and baseball practice, and baseball cards; golf and golf practice and junior golf tournaments; and my friends who were all, like me,  budding athletes. We all loved to practice our sports. 

My love of the outdoors continued and I always looked forward to hunting and fishing trips with my dad.  I took many solitary hikes in hills with my dog, my sling shot or my dad’s .22 rifle and with my friends from Boy Scouts.  I killed a few birds which I later rued.  Discovery of girls and dancing with them at school dances, which was nice, arrived in junior high as did popular literature of Hemmingway and Steinbeck which supplanted boys’ outdoor adventure novels.  In school I liked physical education (somehow I was always chosen one of the first on teams except in basketball), science classes, English, history and band.  I always liked and did well in spelling, and even math until I hit high school.  My grades were above average but not great; my focus, as you can tell was elsewhere. I had chores at home like all boys—feeding and caring for my dog, raking the millions of oak leaves that fell from our trees, mowing the lawn, and drying the dishes. My life was full. 

  

In high school my activities and social life centered on attending dances, spectating at basketball games, working at a local golf course, saving money for a sports car (I did finally get a used Triumph in my senior year), enjoying cars in general, and being ‘cool’ in my Levis 501 shrink-to-fit jeans, Converse ‘Chuck Taylor’ low-top tennis shoes, and hair with the proper amount of pomade.  I remember enjoying playing the trombone—pep band, marching band, and orchestra; riding my Schwinn one-speed bicycle, Boy Scouts, caddying, making model airplanes and cars, and, yes, blowing up things with firecrackers. 

 

My friends were all boys except for my girlfriend, Karen, who lived in a nearby town and who for many weeks I saw only at church—where our respective mothers took us  every week.  She was my only steady girlfriend from age 13 through all my high school years, even though she moved with her family (her dad was an Army officer) to Germany for three years. We corresponded by letter.

    

While my girlfriend was out-of-country I started reading more serious literature: philosophy, politics, and deeper religious writings.  I became even stronger in my Christian discipleship but not so strong in the congregation of my youth.  I sensed that there were better answers than I was getting from the Presbyterian approach to the Bible and sought diligently for answers in the doctrines of other churches. I knew, though, that I was getting closer and that Christ’s true church had to be out there.  But still, with these more serious intellectual and spiritual endeavors, I did not abandon my interest in professional football and baseball (we had a little 19” black and white T.V by now) and playing junior tournament golf and participating fully in my school’s music program. My girlfriend finally returned in my senior year.

 

 It was then I started to put boyhood behind me.  I began to seriously think of a career and began to buckle down in my studies.  A military career, or one in forestry, or even professional golf were briefly on my ‘screen.’ I also thought briefly about orthopedics but knew my mathematics preparation was not good enough to pursue medicine. But as a 17- year-old student in junior college, as it was called in those days,  I had good teachers and interesting classes in anatomy and physiology and kinesiology and started to think about a possible career in coaching sports or teaching physical education or biology. With my girlfriend’s encouragement I committed.

Following my graduation from j.c. and the moving out of my parents’ home I was more than ready to transition from a good boy’s life (take that either way) to that of a married ‘man.’  I was also ready, with my bride, to seriously look for answers to my quest for a more substantial religious life.  My ‘boy’s life was over as a happily married life began at the young age of 19 ½. 

BOOKS and a BOOK

I don’t remember having a book in our home as a boy until I was about seven or eight years old (although we probably did).  But then I had a teacher in my elementary school—was it Mrs. Collins in the 4^th grade or Mrs. Phelen in the 5^th?—who read to us in class and the world opened up to me. 

I soon had a library card and I used it. . .and used it. . . and used it. Not long after that, my Mom or Dad must have had some regrets about my education and attempted to rectify the situation by buying for my brothers and me a brand new set of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.  The set of scholarly volumes was for people above my age and overwhelmed me and regretfully I hardly used it—even when I grew to be able to.  But there were other books. . . .

When someone tells me they are ‘not a reader,’ I tell them they just haven’t yet found the right book. Ask a librarian and people who are readers for book lists and recommendations and your life, too, will expand.

Since then I have read literally hundreds and hundreds of books on my own as well as probably hundreds of others in part in pursuing my formal education. I have enjoyed many authors, been challenged and well-educated by many others, and read some titles many more times than once.  In short, my life has been greatly enriched by those who knew much more than me, and had the wisdom to put down in print their learning for others.

Yesterday I finished reading a book that opened my eyes to a reality around all of us that I had frankly given less thought than I should have.  It is the true story about a homeless man living in the Skid Row of downtown Los Angeles.  I knew that many (probably most) homeless people were on the streets because of really poor choices in getting involved with drugs and alcohol.  Some, though, have had brain trauma or neurochemical imbalances, like Nathaniel Anthony Ayers, who is there because of mental illness over which he has no control. 

Mr. Ayers had been a brilliant and very talented music student at the Julliard School of Music in New York City but while there suffered a mental breakdown diagnosed as schizophrenia.  His life took a quick turn downward. This is a condition characterized by a loss of control of thought processes and inappropriate emotional responses.  Such people are often confused, disoriented, and their mind is cluttered with images, delusions, and thoughts over which they have no control.

The book (and movie which I did not see) about Nathaniel Ayers describes the profound challenges of a person so afflicted, and the homeless—and hopeless—environment to which so many are reduced.  Ayers, like many, never did fully recover, but his life and many others like him have been made easier by the efforts of many good people and organizations. 

If you read this book, The Soloist, by journalist Steve Lopez, you will likely be a changed person unless you, yourself have spent some time on the streets and already know the plight of the homeless.  It is a frank and brutal book—shocking in places--and should increase your understanding and compassion for people who are our community neighbors whom we often simply ignore.  It will show you what you can do about mental health problems and similar problems and what you cannot do.  Many people so afflicted you cannot help, but you will have tried and view the problem differently.  And in the trying you will see that you are a changed person for the better.