Journey to Jalgaon

The Jain family, who are our hosts for the wedding of Athang Jain to his bride Ambika, arranged for our flight from Mumbai to Aurangabad.  They booked us in first class seats where we were given damp towels for our hands and served lime juice.  There was a meal, but we weren’t hungry and just had hot tea.  Bill slept most of the flight, but I had a window seat and enjoyed the views….albeit through very hazy conditions.

When we arrived we were met by drivers from the Jain company who transported us on about a 4 hour car ride to the Jain compound in Jalgaon.  Now about the ride….

If you haven’t driven in a vehicle in India, you can’t imagine!  The road is a mass of vehicles….autos, trucks, 3-wheeled open vehicles which seem to be taxis, motorcycles…lots and lots of motorcycles, a scattering of bicycles and an occasional oxcart.  A few pedestrians who are apparently suicidal attempt to cross this raging stream of traffic.  There are few signal lights or lines on the road, but no one pays them much attention anyway.  Everyone is darting about, crossing into on-coming traffic and constantly sounding the horn to say, they are passing or squeezing through or just think they haven’t honked recently enough.  I witnessed our driver honk and squeeze around an ambulance with its red light flashing.  Seriously!?  It was dark and we were, of course, driving on the left rather than the right side of the road, and it was all pretty exciting/terrifying even though we were in the back seat.  I had my hand over my mouth some of the time to avoid my gasps being audible to the driver….who as far as I could tell spoke no English, but was expert honker.

About the motorcycles….some had only one passenger, but many had entire families clinging to them.  A small child would be sitting in front of the driver, while a woman and another child hung on to the back of the motorcycle.  The woman would be wearing a sari or a burka with fabric flying in the breeze, and I wondered if it ever happens that a loose end of the fabric gets caught in something and pitches the woman off into the street.  If anyone had on a helmet, it would be only the driver….I never saw a woman or child with a helmet.  Did see three buildings that claimed to be hospitals and trauma centers, and I expect they are needed.

I distracted myself by watching the sights…oh, such sights.  We passed thousands of roadside shops in tiny booths with open fronts.  There were barber shops, street foods, fruits and vegetables, furniture, cell phones, drinks, eggs, carcasses of animals hanging by their legs, and “stuff” about which I was clueless.  Bill saw one of these tiny places that purported to be an “exclusive Dell dealer.”  I saw one that had a sign “Tailor” with a man bending over a sewing machine inside.  People were milling around everywhere….even in the pitch black of night.  Along the way, I also saw hundreds of dwellings which must be homes….but such poverty as we do not see in the US.  Most of the homes had openings for doors and windows, but appeared to have nothing in the openings.  Families were visible outlined in dim lighting.  Many of these structures are covered with shredded blue tarps which serve as the roof.  I saw one corrugated metal roof held down with large rocks.  People gather around outdoor fires.  We did not just see occasional pockets of this….it was everywhere along the route for the entire 4 hour ride.  I had expected to see poverty, but not on this scale.

We made one stop along the way to allow us to use a rest room….very primitive, but maintained by a gracious young man who offered us napkins to use as toilet paper and hand towels, and who made sure I knew how to turn on the water to wash my hands.

We did not arrive at the Jain compound until about 10 at night….what a contrast to the sights along the way….more about that later.  It is just too much to relate in one sitting.

What Misery is Mine!

What misery is mine! The godly have been swept from the land.  All men lie in wait to shed blood, each hunts his brother with a net.  Both hands are skilled in doing evil; the ruler demands gifts, the judge accepts bribes, the powerful dictate what they desire; they all conspire together.  Do not trust your neighbor, put no confidence in a friend.  Even with her who lies in your embrace, be careful of your words.  For a son dishonors his father, a daughter rises up against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law….a man’s enemies are the member of his own household.  But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me.  (from Micah 7:1-7 with a few phrases not included)

When I read this last night, I couldn’t help but think that it describes the current time.  I am sure there have been prior periods in history for which this was true, but it certainly fits the pattern today.

What is the righteous person, such as Micah, to do when the fabric of government and social structure is shredded?  Not ALL people are behaving in the evil manner described, but there is certainly way too much of it.  So many are out for their own gain, at the expense of anyone else and at the expense of ethics and values.

Daily there are reports of leaders taking bribes or engaging in other unethical conduct.  Politicians resign their posts as their misdeeds are exposed.  Actors and other celebrities are revealed to be sexual predators.  Family members fight over inheritance.  This sometimes results not only in broken relationships, but in the taking of a life.   

These problems are so pervasive that it seems unending.  It isn’t possible to root out all the evil.  Yesterday on a plane, I read a copy of an Indian newspaper.  The nature of man is the same on both sides of the globe.  Some of the crimes described and evils discussed were exactly what I have read in papers in the US.  I was especially saddened by an evil perpetrated against a child, which I read about in the Indian paper and have, in the past, read of the same horror being inflicted on a child in the US.

Later in Micah 7, the text says, “The earth will become desolate because of its inhabitants, as the result of their deeds.”  Not a very promising future for mankind!  Whether it will happen because of failure to care for the environment, or because of war, or a punishing act of God, I don’t know.  But Micah is claiming it will happen one way or another as a result of our deeds.

There is only one source of hope.  The book of Micah ends with this promise: “Who is a God like you who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance?  You do not stay angry forever, but delight to show mercy.  You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea.”

However, this follows the earlier statement, “they come trembling out of their dens; they will turn in fear to the Lord our God.”  God is merciful, but we cannot keep on in the present course.  We need to acknowledge the sin we as a people have engaged in, and with trembling ask for forgiveness and mercy.  There are better days ahead, but not without the experience of the described desolation forcing mankind to its knees individually and collectively.

Forfeiting Grace

Those who cling to worthless idols, forfeit the grace that could be theirs. Jonah 2:8

This verse strikes a cord with me each time I read it.  I began to write about it the last time I read the Bible through and never finished my thoughts.  I read it again this past week and began pondering it again. 

When put so succinctly, it seems utterly foolish to cling to a "worthless idol" and forfeit grace, but the situation is, of course, much more complicated. Or perhaps, in the real world, much less black and white.  What is a a "worthless idol?"  What is so important to us that we would ignore the grace of God?

One might not recognize that he is clinging to a worthless idol. Life holds many things which seem to be of value, but are really wisps of emptiness. We see others with education, power, fame, material possessions and the admiration of men.  They may seem to "have it all" and be happy. Seeing their smiles, we assume that they are satisfied and have a meaningful existence. And perhaps, they are content and believe they are making an impact on their world.

One might also not realize that he cannot possess worthless idols and grace at the same time. If his hands are full of one, he cannot open them up to be filled with the other.  "No man can serve two masters." (Matthew 6:24)

Being committed to Christ means singleness of purpose, desiring the glory of God above all, giving up our own desires.  It may seem like we are losing something, but it is hard to compare anything to the grace of God.  It makes me sad to think that there are those who think they have something substantial in their hands when it is something that will evaporate.

Pondering

I ponder the “what ifs” of my life,

The wide range of possibilities,

            A broad spectrum

            From disaster

To spectacular.

I recount the “supposes of my life,

The infinite complexities

            Puzzle pieces,

            Some dovetailing,

Others in hopeless tangle.

I indulge in a dream of “if onlys,”

Those happy coincidences

            That propel one,

            Soaring upward,

To grand success.

I shudder at life’s “near misses,”

Those frightening times.

            When something unspeakable

            Was inches

Or seconds away.

I bow in gratitude to Him,

Whose all-powerful hand

            Has in the maze

            Pointed and pushed

And protected.

I wrote this decades ago, and it was published in a denominational magazine in 1985.  It still expresses my feelings about my life and the course it has taken.

Fragility

Hanging by a slender silver thread.

Bound up in a wisp of breath,

Soft and malleable,

Easily distorted or deformed.

A split second can alter its state.

Vibrant energy can be lost,

Into stillness and immobility,

Silence and death.

Exuberance and laughter,

Reduced to a rigid mask,

Potential destroyed,

The future a locked door.

We run through time,

Careless of eternity,

Unable to imagine an end,

Blissfully ignorant of the fragility of life.

Trail of Tears

I just finished reading Trail of Tears:  The Rise and Fall of the Cherokee Nation by John Ehle, a very well-written and documented account.  The author makes use of many original source documents, including correspondence, transcribed speeches and excerpts from legal documents.

I have frequently seen comments on the internet about the ways in which “we” as a nation mistreated the Indians during the early days of our nation’s formation….after all, they were here first.  However, having read this historical book, I now realize how overly simplistic such accusations are.  The situation was much more complex than such statements would indicate.

I have not read widely on the subject regarding other tribes, but the Cherokees and the “Trail of Tears” are frequently cited.  Here are some interesting issues gleaned from Ehle’s book.

*The Cherokees and other tribes with which they interacted were frequently at war with one another, treating each other savagely.  For that matter, even within a tribe, some members were ill-treated.  It is not as though they lived in blissful harmony prior to the arrival of white men.

*Some of the Cherokees willingly sold their land or took bribes to influence their tribe to sell off lands.  Some made themselves quite wealthy in this way, although it was a betrayal of their own people.

*The Cherokees kept slaves.  Prior to the arrival of whites, the slaves were from other tribes.  After the arrival of whites with their black slaves, the Cherokees kept black slaves and treated them as less than human.

*A number of Christian sects sent missionaries to the Cherokees.  These were usually teachers who in addition to religious subjects, taught academic and vocational topics.  The best Cherokee students were sent to boarding schools where they were educated as well as whites.  This resulted in a number of Cherokees becoming lawyers who could represent their tribe in negotiations in Washington.

*The missionary teachers stood with and supported the Cherokees in the efforts to retain their lands.  More than one of these friends of the Indians was arrested by the state of Georgia and jailed for months or years because of their stand.

*The Indian issue was largely a “states rights” issue.  The Supreme Court ruled in favor of the Cherokees and against the state of Georgia in its efforts to oust the tribe.  Georgia ignored the Supreme Court ruling, and Andrew Jackson (who was president at the time) refused to do anything to uphold it.

*Andrew Jackson spoke out of both sides of his mouth.  When he met with representatives of the Cherokees, he would assure them of his respect for them and of his friendship, but then do absolutely nothing to support them.

*The Cherokees tried to develop their own nation modeled after the United States, drawing from the US constitution for their own constitution and setting up a capital city and court system.  The congress of the US would not accept them as a separate nation.  I wonder if they could have achieved more by attempting to become a state.  Georgia originally held all the land over to the Mississippi River, and Alabama and Mississippi were parceled off.  What if there had been a state called Cherokee too?

*The Cherokees had no written language before contact with white men.  They apparently were amazed at the idea that a message could be conveyed without being in face to face conversation.  It was not until exposure to this idea, that one of their own developed symbols for the various sounds in their language and began to record them and teach others to read them.  Eventually the Cherokee nation had its own newspaper.  This became a way of letting the rest of the country know about their plight.  They had many supporters in northern states who were horrified that they were being removed from their lands.

*After years of attempts at negotiations, it became clear to some of the more educated Cherokees that there was no hope of retaining their lands and that leaving voluntarily was going to be advantageous.  However, John Ross, one of the chiefs and a spokesman for the council was opposed to this until the bitter end.  He kept stringing the people on telling them that he could negotiate a treaty that allowed them to retain their lands.  Men who decided to move voluntarily were viewed as traitors.  When the government began forcing the issue, they did it with care for the needs of the tribe.  They were provided with wagons, food and shelter along the way.  They were moved in boats so that the journey was as short and comfortable as possible.  It may not have been a great situation, but deaths occurred mainly in the elderly and infants which would have been expected even if they hadn’t been on the move.  However, when John Ross finally did encourage the move, he contracted with the federal government to arrange for the move himself without federal troops.  He was paid for this and gave the actual contract to his brother.  It was his brother who moved the remaining Cherokees on foot, late in the season with inadequate provisions.  John Ross meanwhile moved his own family by boat diminishing the hardship to himself while his tribe suffered.

*The Cherokees who had moved west earlier had established a government and were living in peace with each other.  They found the land to be good for both agriculture and hunting.  When John Ross arrived he fomented a rebellion against that government.  It could never be proven that he had ordered it, but it was his followers who assassinated some of the tribe who had moved earlier voluntarily.

*The epilogue of the book discusses false information that has been spread.  While it may seem awful that our government forced these people off their ancestral lands, it is also true that members of the tribe were at fault for some of the problems.  The number who died has been inflated and the fact that many deaths were due to the Ross brothers’ actions rather than the federal troops is rarely mentioned.

I am inclined to believe what I have read in this book, rather than what is currently in history textbooks.  The author has taken great care to document his assertions and provides a balanced view of that time in our history.

What Grandpa Gave Grandma

My maternal grandfather was an interesting character, and I loved him tremendously.  We had a special bond, and I felt his loss keenly when he passed away.  I was not quite 12 at the time.  I have many fond memories, but one that always makes me chuckle is the memory of a Christmas gift he gave to Grandma one year.

Grandpa and Grandma had purchased a new car just before Christmas and had agreed that it would be their gift to each other. Grandma had never learned to drive, but this did not prevent her from offering advice, criticizing Grandpa’s driving, and hollering, “Frank!  Look out!” frequently.

When the whole family was gathered at Christmas, Grandpa presented her with a wrapped package.  She protested, “Frank, we said we weren’t giving each other gifts this year.”

He smiled and said, “I know…just open it.”

She unwrapped the package and opened the box to discover half a car.  He had sawed a toy car in two parts front to back and presented her with half.

As she removed it from the box, he said, slyly, “You will notice which half it is.”

It was, of course, the passenger side.

That gift was a joke, but he gave her “gifts” on a regular basis that were not jokes.

Grandma had trouble with her legs…lots of vascular problems:  phlebitis, clots, and sometimes even ulcerations.  Grandpa saw to it that she never had to scrub a floor.  He always did that job, preventing her from having to get down on her knees.

When the family gathered for dinners, which happened not only on holidays, but many Sundays, Grandpa would appear in the kitchen after the meal.  He would stack all the pots, pans and difficult to wash cooking utensils in the roasting pan and disappear to the basement.  The women were left with the silver, glassware and china, while he scrubbed the most difficult things in the stationary tubs downstairs.

These acts of love were not just a gift to Grandma, they were a gift to the whole family, as he modeled what a man should be.  I know young men that think masculinity is defined by their muscles or sexual prowess.  They take off, leaving young women to raise the children they have so carelessly fathered.  What a contrast to my beloved Grandfather who understood that loving a woman means tender care and self sacrifice.

I often say that my Grandfather was a prince.