Instant Gratification

Today I took my car to the garage for some needed repairs and waited in the lounge while the work was being done.  Although I was reading and crocheting, I was vaguely aware of the TV and caught a tiny snatch of an ad for high speed Internet service, which included this statement:  "Enjoy the freedom of instant gratification."


This statement sickens me.  The notion that instant gratification improves ones life is horribly flawed.  Instant gratification is far more likely to produce bondage, than freedom.  An entire generation has come to believe that they have a right to instant gratification...nothing and no one should stand in the way of their pleasure.  


If you need your mood elevated, just pop a pill.
If you feel like sex, hook up with the first available partner.
If you are thirsty, stop at the convenient store and grab a 32 ounce soda.
If you are hungry, there are plenty of fast food joints with fries.
Don't bother to prepare a meal from scratch, just pop something in the microwave.
Don't save until you have enough money for a car or a room full of furniture, just finance it.
Why should you wait for anything?


Instant gratification is a frightening addiction.  We are like lab rats that have learned to push a lever to obtain food.  We go back over and over until we are way past gratification and into overdose.


What has happened to the exquisite pleasure derived from patiently waiting, deferring gratification, until the "fruit" is ripe to perfection and is then consumed slowly, thoughtfully and with great appreciation?
*a cold drink after working on a hot day
*a meal created from home-grown vegetables, carefully prepared
*admiration of a piece of furniture refinished by ones own effort
*wearing a hand knit sweater
*sex with a partner to whom one has made a life-time commitment after taking the time to know that person as a dear friend
*making a purchase with confidence after counting the cost and knowing the resources are available for the payments


So, please don't try to sell me instant gratification.  Don't feed me the poison of instant gratification. And please, don't remind me of the irony, that I will use my high-speed Internet from the very company that ran the offending ad to upload these comments.

Medea by Euripides

You know that expression, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?"  Let me tell you about Medea.


Medea married Jason after helping him to succeed in and survive certain adventures.  She left her homeland and came to live with him in Corinth, and eventually they had two sons.  As the play opens, she is grieving because he has left her for the daughter of King Creon of Corinth.  Medea is a sorceress with some pretty scary powers.  It seems to me that Jason should have known better than to cross her.


He tries to convince her that he has entered into this relationship with the king's daughter in order to secure their position in the kingdom and cause their sons to be half brothers to the royal family.  Medea doesn't buy it...particularly since he did not discuss this plan with her ahead of time.  She plots to kill Creon, his daughter, Jason and their two sons....her own children.  


In order to accomplish this, she feigns acceptance of the situation and apologizes for her prior conduct.  She tells Jason to take their two sons to meet his new wife and offer her presents.  The presents she sends are an embroidered robe and a golden crown on which spells have been cast.  The person who wears them will die most painfully, their flesh ripping off of their bones.


The princess who is to be Jason's bride dons the garments and the curse begins.  As she is dying, her father is called.  He embraces her and is caught up in the spell also.  As soon as a messenger comes to tell Medea of the death of Creon and his daughter, she kills her own two sons rather than have them killed by Creon's loyal subjects.  Jason arrives and begs to be allowed to bury his sons, but Medea is determined to take them away with her.  Medea leaves on a chariot drawn by dragons.


Some interesting quotes from this play:
...the greatest safeguard this when wife and husband do agree; but now their love is all turned to hate, and tenderest ties are weak.  (Medea's nurse)  This is an interesting phenomenon.  Passionate love turns to passionate hate.


Art learning only now, that every single man cares for himself more than for his neighbour, some from honest motives, others for mere gain's sake?  (Attendant to Medea's children)  I'm having a little difficulty with just what "honest motive" would cause one to care most for himself.


Some think me clever and hate me, others say I am too reserved, and some the very reverse; others find me hard to please and not so very clever at all.  (Medea)  Strong and clever women do have this problem.  They pose a threat to some, while other appreciate their gifts.


Yea, men should have begotten children from some other source, no female race existing; thus would no evil ever have fallen on mankind.  (Jason)  Now there's an interesting perspective!  I am pretty sure that the male of the species left to his own devices would have found a way to be evil.


A villain's gifts can bring no blessing. (Medea)  Perhaps the villain intends no blessing, but a gift is still a gift.  I heard a story once about a poor elderly woman who prayed for food.  A neighbor who didn't believe in God overheard her and brought her some food.  He could not resist taunting her that God had not answered her prayer.  She replied, "God sent the food, even if the devil did deliver it."

One Stupid Little Thing

Sometimes it all comes down to one stupid little thing....


The whole boat-load of stress and difficulty of the past year has not sent me spiraling downward.  I have shed no tears, but this morning I am on the verge of meltdown over something that is, in the big picture, downright trivial.


In the past year...
*an elderly parent declined in health, was hospitalized, spent months in a nursing home and then died just as we thought she might be able to come home.
*a beloved uncle, who had no children and was closest to me, finally succumbed to cancer.  We made multiple trips to see him and to handle his affairs.
*custody of a step-grandson changed, and we have been denied visits with him as a result.
*a daughter lost custody of her son and almost fell off the edge emotionally.  We are required to supervise her weekend visits with him and have to travel twice every other weekend, five hours round-trip each time, to do pick ups and drop offs.
*the custody battle continues and we have to go to court with her....way too much drama.  I found testifying very stressful due to the hostility of her estranged husband's lawyer.  In retrospect, I should have realized that when one doesn't have logic or facts on his side, he is going to resort to intimidation.
*a teenage grandson lived with us for a few months.  We finally told him he had to move out, because he saw nothing wrong with sneaking a girl in through the basement window during the night.
*we traveled to New York City where we "rescued" a wayward granddaughter from a pimp. All the way home, I was thanking God for His mercy in allowing us to find her, but totally cognizant of the rough road ahead.
*another grandchild has recently been avoiding going to school.  Will she pass this year?
*one of our children lives in California and another just moved from Maine to Florida with her family.  Although they both are doing very well, I wish I could see them more often.  The situations already mentioned suck up so much of our time, that it is difficult to get away for visits.


So...why do I want to cry this morning?  While the teen grandson lived here, he took multiple showers a day, and could not seem to remember to use the exhaust fan or open the bathroom door when he was finished.  As a result, the paint is flaking off the ceiling over the shower stall in huge chunks.  The painter I usually hire is not available for a few weeks, so I thought I would do this small project myself.  I got up early on this lovely morning, took my 3-mile walk, had breakfast, put on my grubby paint clothes, spread out the drop cloths and went to get the paint I purchased about 3 weeks ago.


I CANNOT FIND THE PAINT!  I have searched the entire house, furnace room, garage....every place I think it might be and some places that would be ridiculous spots for me to have put it.  No luck.


I should just say, "Well, I guess that's not what I'm supposed to be doing today."  But, I am fighting back the tears.


Sometimes it all comes down to one stupid little thing.

Even when it hurts...

Lord, who may dwell in your sanctuary?  Who may live on your holy hill?
He whose walk is blameless and does what is righteous, who speaks the truth from his heart....who keeps his oath even when it hurts...  Psalm 15: 1, 2, 4


I have dealt with some individuals recently who do not speak the truth and who would not consider keeping a promise if it hurt.  Some of them are young people...children, teens...who are still struggling to find their way.  They have not yet seen the value of truth and promise-keeping.


But others, are past middle age.  They should be setting the example for their children and grandchildren, but they don't want to experience anything that "hurts," so they do what they believe will make them happy.  One person who worked at breaking up a marriage, so that she could have someone else's husband said, "Oh, we think God wants us to be happy."  No....God wants us to be holy, and sometimes that means paying the price of some pain.  It's not that God wants us to be unhappy, but that is not His primary objective for our lives.  


Happiness does not trump holiness.


A teenage boy recently said in regard to something he was asked to do, had promised to do, and was backing out of, "I am only sixteen.  I shouldn't have to have responsibility."  Oh, really???  The same young man thinks he should be allowed to engage in sex with a teenage girl.  I'm sure that makes him "happy," but he is currently failing in school.  He has not caught on to the concept of suffering a bit of deprivation for the sake of long range happiness.


Privilege follows responsibility....it does NOT precede it.


I have committed to certain things in my life and discovered later that there is enormous pain involved in the commitment.  A child makes terrible choices, feeling certain that her life is her own and has nothing to do with her parents. Years pass and the consequences of those choices come crashing down.  Guess who suffers along with the person who has made the wrong decisions?  


A parent could choose to turn his or her back on the child.....You made your bed...now lie in it!  But, there is the little matter of having made a commitment to be the person's parent.  The one who stands blameless before God is the one who keeps his promise even when it hurts.


And sometimes...it really hurts.

The Worry Stone

Yesterday my seven year old granddaughter showed me a polished white stone which was about the size of a nickel.  I remarked that it was a pretty stone  She said that her teacher had given it to her, and that it was a "worry stone."
I inquired as to what that meant.
"My teacher says when you are worrying about something, you just rub the stone and your worries will go into the stone."
I asked her if she believed this.  She said that she did.
What?  What?!  I was horrified and incredulous.


This troubles me both from a religious and a scientific perspective.  Now, I well know that there are many with strong religious beliefs who think science is of no value, and that there are many who believe in science who think religion is rubbish.  Those in either of these camps may not want to acknowledge that there are quite a number of us out here who believe in both science and religion.  This includes some extremely intelligent and logical folks.


As a person who delights in the orderliness of the world and the logic of science, I am disgusted that a teacher would foist a "worry stone" on a child.  If weird Uncle Clyde gave a child such a stone and described its function with a smirk on his face, I would not have much of a reaction.  Even a child would know enough to question his credibility.  But, our children believe what a teacher tells them.  They are learning correct bits of information from a teacher:  two plus three equals five, a sentence is a complete thought beginning with a capital letter and ending with a punctuation mark, Albany is the capital of New York but not its largest city.  They ought to also be learning how to think logically....not magically.  A "worry stone" in grade school is a horrific basis for the study of earth science, biology, chemistry and physics in high school.


As a person of faith, I want children to understand that there actually is a way to get rid of worries, and it does not involve rubbing a stone.  The troubles of life can be discussed with a God who loves us and sees beyond today.  I want my grandchildren to sing:
I cast all my cares upon you.
I lay all of my burdens down at your feet,
And anytime I don't know, what to do.
I will cast all my cares upon you.
This is not magical thinking.  This is participating in a loving, supportive relationship with someone who is all-knowing and all-powerful.  


I see no conflict between faith and science, but a "worry stone" is not compatible with either.

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

I am not sure how it happened, but I got through high school and college without ever reading “Brave New World” by Aldous Huxley.  I did read a number of other works that dealt with utopian concepts.  Being on vacation and having extra time, I decided to read it this week.  I was forewarned that it was depressing, but I managed to read it in less than a 24 hour period with no signs of needing “soma.”

“Brave New World” was written in 1932.  The copy I read had a foreword written by Huxley 15 years later.  We are now 80 years later and the degree to which we have progressed toward this world is frightening.  A few observations follow.

“Sleep learning” or hypnopedia is not inflicted on children today, but practiced by them willingly.  Many children, teens and young adults fall asleep in front of televisions or next to sound systems which provide a night full of background music and/or dialogue.  If this “music” was soothing and beautiful, I would not be so concerned.   What I have observed in young people is that they listen at night to the same type of music they listen to by day.  The beat throbs and pounds.  The lyrics are filled with profanity.  The concepts described are vile.  They walk around with earplugs in listening all day, and then leave the CD player or radio on all night.  Please don’t try to tell me this doesn’t impact their philosophy of life and their behavior.

We are perilously close to the time when “Feelies” will be available in the form of virtual reality.  We can already insert ourselves into video games.  What happens when the line between the real and the virtual disappears?  Even now, we have plenty of mentally ill people in our society.  If reality is lost, we will have many more.

In this book, young children are encouraged in erotic play.  We haven’t quite gotten to this yet, but younger and younger children are being exposed to sexuality.  Television programs that a few years ago would have been relegated to “after the kiddies are in bed,” now are shown in endless reruns during late afternoon.

Procreation has been totally separated from sexuality in the Brave New World.  Sexuality is strictly for pleasure.  Having an exclusive partner is frowned upon.  Procreation happens in bottles.  Women carefully practice birth control.  If they have an urge to bear a child, they can take a series of chemicals to fulfill this need without the inconvenience of a pregnancy.  I am not saying that birth control is a bad thing, but we are moving in the direction of sex strictly for pleasure whenever and with whomever, and that is a bad thing.  I am watching it ruin young lives.

Religion and family life have disappeared in the Brave New World.  They are viewed as vile and disgusting.  A mother breastfeeding her baby is repulsive.  All of the tender emotions of family relationship are shunned.  Religious books are locked away, considered dangerous for the masses.  We do have in our society today an increasingly vocal and influential element that mocks what was once considered sacred.

The main goals of the Brave New World are happiness and stability.  Stability is achieved through social engineering.  All aspects of life are controlled.  Happiness is achieved through medication…in the book it is called “soma.”  According to the CDC, anti-depressants are the most commonly prescribed medication in the United States today.  None of them go by the name soma, but they are plentiful and used freely.  (There is actually a medication with this name, but it is a muscle relaxant.)

I have not even begun to discuss the characters in “Brave New World,” and the way in which the life of each one is tragic.  Suffice it to say that this is not a world I want to live in, and I do not know if we ever will reach this point, but we have moved a great deal closer to it in 2012 than we were in 1932 when the book was penned.

Sanctity of Life, Sanctity of Death

I was mesmerized, the first time I saw them, by a strange sameness in the moments of birth and death.  A baby emerged from the birth canal looking like a lump of limp, blue-tinged plastic, but then, he breathed, shrieked, turned pink, and put all four limbs into motion.  An elderly woman made a final gasp.  The color drained from her already pale face, and as she became tinged with blue, earthly life ended.  I was in my late teens and awestruck the first time I saw each of these moments in the continuum of life.

Within the past year, I have been present at the moment of death for two close relatives.  Both were elderly.  Both expressed a desire to leave and go to be with Jesus.  One slipped away quietly, his breaths becoming increasingly shallow and further apart.  The other breathed heavily until the last gasp, as though she was climbing a steep hill and striving with all her might to reach the top.

Families struggle with difficult decisions leading up to these moments.  Last summer I walked into my uncle’s hospital room and was immediately handed a consent form.  As his health proxy, they wanted me to give consent for a transfusion he was refusing.  He had been battling cancer for seven years.  His doctors had told him he could tolerate no more chemo and had removed the port.  He saw no reason to postpone the inevitable, and that being his wish, I did not sign the consent either.

My mother-in-law stopped eating two or three days before she died.  We stopped trying to feed her.  She could no longer swallow and choked even on soft foods.  She had previously given instructions that she never wanted a feeding tube.  This was especially difficult on one of the family members.  He felt that withholding food was too close to euthanasia.  Most of us felt that what we were doing was bowing to her wishes and not doing anything to increase or prolong her discomfort.

How do you sort out end of life issues?

How do you sort out beginning of life issues?

I was in my 40s when I became pregnant the last time.  The doctors repeatedly asked me if I was sure I wanted to continue the pregnancy.  I refused amniocentesis three times.  I was required to go to genetic counseling for my doctor’s “legal protection.”  Certainly, I could have had a child with birth defects, but by God’s grace, I had a healthy baby boy.  I do not view this as God’s reward for making the “right decision,” and I would not presume to make the decision for another person.

I am not prepared to say that someone who is pregnant as a result of rape must accept this as God’s will and continue the pregnancy.  I think if I had been raped during my child-bearing years at a time when conception was likely, I would have taken the “morning after pill” with a totally clear conscience.  However, if that had not been available, I would have had a much harder time with having an abortion after the pregnancy was established.

I view abortion as a horrific means of birth control, and at a minimum, disrespectful of life, but I stop short of viewing it as murder.  Why do I have trouble with abortion being murder?

1.       It is unclear to me exactly when life begins, and I don’t think any human being is wise enough to figure this out, although many claim to do so.

a.       Genesis 2:7  The Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.  Was this a one time thing for the first man or does life begin for all of us with the first breath?  Or perhaps at the point in development when the fetus is capable of sustaining respiration?  I don’t know the answer to that.

b.      Psalm 139:13  You created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb..my frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place..  This is often used as an argument for life beginning right from the outset of the developmental process.  But, could this also be interpreted as God foreknowing those who will be born?  I don’t know the answer to that.

c.       Exodus 21:22   If men who are fighting hit a pregnant woman and she gives birth prematurely (or she has a miscarriage) but there is no serious injury, the offender must be fined whatever the woman’s husband demands and the court allows.  But if there is serious injury, you are to take life for life, eye for eye…etc.  So if this means that a murder has only occurred if the woman dies, then it would seem that the baby is not yet viewed as fully a human being.  But, is that what it means or does it mean serious injury to either mother or child?  This passage can be twisted to fit ones already determined viewpoint, and I don’t know which of the interpretations is correct.

2.   If abortion is ever murder then it is always murder is troubling to me.

a.         If it is really murder, then killing abortionists is totally logical.    However, I have real difficulty with this being what God would have me to do regarding abortionists.  But, if I believe abortion is murder, isn’t it the logical conclusion?  So maybe something is wrong with the premise that it is always murder.

b.      In the Old Testament causing a death was not always murder.  A person who had killed another could flee to a City of Refuge where he would be protected until his case was heard.  So, maybe there is room for being something less than rigid in this notion.

3.     I struggle with the fact that the same people who believe that abortion is murder are often conservatives who believe in the death penalty.  Something about this just doesn’t make any sense to me.  And, if one is to be consistent, shouldn’t those who believe abortion is murder, also be pacifists?  I have trouble formulating a consistent and coherent world view with “abortion is murder” as one of the tenets.

4.      If God had clearly stated in the Bible that abortion is murder and had defined exactly when life begins, I would with no hesitation follow His directive.  But, He did not do that.

On the other hand, it is clearly stated:

You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’  But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment.  Matthew 5:21

Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life in him.  I John 3:15

So….I know that I am to love my brother, but I cannot resolve these issues that deal with the intersection between life and death.  As a believer and someone who holds life to be sacred, I can only adhere to God’s specific directives and earnestly pray for guidance in the areas where He has not spoken clearly.

I believe that the end of life and the beginning of life give us a split second peek into the window of eternity.  The glimpse, although gone in a flash, pierces the depths of our souls and increases our desire to someday see the face of God and “know as we are known.” 

It is an immense privilege to be present when someone is born or when someone dies.  Both moments are sacred.