We shared in a United Nations peace vigil last Sunday. A display by the American Friends Service Committee (the Quakers) illustrated the cost in human life exacted by the war in Iraq—142 pairs of combat boots, each one representing a soldier from Missouri or Kansas killed in the war to date. A few pairs of civilian shoes were interspersed with the boots, representative of the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis who have likely died in the war (but whose deaths we don’t tally, being only collateral damage).

And then there’s the financial cost of the war. Pointing out that one day of the Iraqi war costs $720 million, a series of banners fluttered the message that we could have instead done any of the following:
• Provided a $1,700 health insurance policy for 423,529 children
• Granted 4-year scholarships of $20,000 to 34,904 state university students
• Hired 12,478 elementary school teachers at $57,000 each
• Provide renewable electricity for 1,274,336 homes at $565 each
• Offered Head Start to 95,364 kids ay $7,550 per kid
• Built homes for 6,482 families at $111,000 each
• Provided free school lunches for 1,153,846 kids at $624 per year
• Built 84 new elementary schools at $8.5 million each
• Offered healthcare to 163,525 people at $4,400 per year

In just nine days of Iraq war expenditures we could do ALL of the above. Imagine what could be done with five years of war expenditures! Surely a trillion dollars should have bought us more than it has. (Unless you’re Shell Oil, who this week opened the first Western-owned oil company office in Iraq since 1972, when the nation’s oil supplies were nationalized. Now there’s a great investment!)

Decades ago President Eisenhower lamented that each bomb built is at the expense of needed social services, and in his 1961 farewell address to the nation he sounded a prophetic note of caution, saying "In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist. We must never let the weight of this combination endanger our liberties or democratic processes. We should take nothing for granted. Only an alert and knowledgeable citizenry can compel the proper meshing of the huge industrial and military machinery of defense with our peaceful methods and goals, so that security and liberty may prosper together."

Evidence that this counsel went unheeded is reflected in the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., speaking six years later about the Vietnam War and the spirit of militarism, saying “A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.”

Ask not for whom the bell tolls…

New Year Resolves

First day of a new year. Slept in a bit after our 2 a.m. doubleheader last night: hosting Perrins and Henshaws (our Guatemala and Australia travel buddies, respectively) for an early soup-and-bread game night (leek and barley soups, plus traditional Southern black-eyed peas, and home-made dill and oatmeal breads), then off to the Rathbuns for a gathering of our 35-year friends from our first pastorate. We rang in the new year with party favors, bubbly (non-alcoholic, for me), and Times Square coverage. I really value these relationships, both for their depth and longevity. I don't know that I'm all that good a friend myself, but it's great having what I would call true "social security" through those who unfailingly love and accept you.

One of the games we played in the course of the evening was asking about new year's resolutions, and mine was "write a daily blog." So far so good. : ) Maybe I'll make a new habit, thanks to Jay's initiative. I had supposed that Sharon put him up to the suggestion of a daily blog, knowing that I need a little boost off dead center, but was inrigued/pleased to find that he apparently came up with the idea and took action on his own. Guess he knows Ole Dad better than I thought. Very much looking forward to the daily discipline and to what it offers in shared meaning-making.

New Year's Eve

Spent this New Year's Eve morning helping move a single mom's stuff from her apartment to a storage unit. It was a good exercise in gratitude. Teresa found her way to our congregation about six weeks ago through a member friend. She was pretty much at the end of her rope: unemployed, without transportation, and living in a ratty apartment with no electricity the past several months because she had no money. Child protection services told her she couldn't keep her two sons (ages one and three) in those living conditions, so the kids were staying with her ex-husband's parents, who in turn were trying to take custody of the kids away from their mom. Meanwhile, Teresa had taken up with a new boy friend who failed to keep up payments on her van, as promised, such that when he vanished the van was repossessed for back payments. So that was pretty much her story when she came to our Sunday morning coffee house, saying that she had a strong impresssion she needed to come to church that day.

Everyone around the table was sympathetic to her plight, offering to help drive her to job interviews, get he stuff moved out of the apartment, etc. We and others gave her money. And a few weeks ago yet another member of the congeregation offered to let her and the kids stay at her house so they could be together until other arrangements could be made. She has since found temp work that has helped ease her financial crisis, but still needed to get her household stuff moved out of the apartent and into a storage unit--particularly since someone kept breaking in and stealing things. So while Sharon and our friend Pat looked after the kids, Don, Jim, Geoff, and I rented a U-Haul and headed over to the apartment. It was a shambles, due in part to the break-ins and stuff being rummaged through, and due in part to some pretty shoddy housekeeping. (Note to self: after several similar expereiences, next time someone asks if I can come help them move, insist on going over beforehand to see the extent of stuff and the deree of readiness for a move. Odds are there will be twice the stuff they describe, and very little packing accomplished.) At any rate, three hours later we had most of the stuff hauled out of the second story apartment (why are they ALWAYS two stories?) and packed into the storage unit. We couldn't finish the job entirely because the storage unity was only open until noon on New Year's eve, but most of the heavy stuff was gone and the rest can be taken by pickup truck. It was a good thing to do, and we had fun doing it, kidding each other as guys do, and shifting into "gitterdone" mode.

Now that I'm back home thinking about it, there's lots to ponder. There's the matter of contrasting wealth; this woman's possessions can all be moved in a few hours; mine would require several days. And much of what Teresa owns I'd just take to Goodwill in the first place. Compared to Teresa, I am indeed incredibly wealthy. Some of that is probably by dint of my own hard work, and having made beter life choices. But much of my good fortune is also due to circumstances not of my own doing: I was born into privilege as a white male, tall, not ugly, with access through Social Securit and National Defense Loans to a college education. I never had a companion who became a meth addict and squandered our money, or a girlfriend who lied to me and left me in dire financial straits. Buy all appearances Teresa is a hard-working gal who's just down on her luck, and we can help her get back on her feet. It's easy for me to slip into judgmental mode, which is what I grew up with, but as I age I see that most folks are just doing the best they can with what they have and what's happended to them. You can't wait until you encounter "the worthy poor" to offer assistance, because you really can;'t know what all has happened to these folks, or how you yourself might have responded in similar circumstances. All I know is that I am incredibly blessed, and among these blessings in the opportunity to bless others. It's a good feeling...even if it sometimes makes me jump when the phone rings late at night!