Caption of the Week

In case you missed the story, this was Khadafi at the UN this week, who turned a 15 minute time slot into a 93 minute mostly-unintelligible tirade. Not that we need it, but this picture is dying for a witty caption. Whatcha got?


If we get good participation, maybe we'll make this a regular installment.

The Problem with Organized Religion

This week, Wall Street Journal columnist Gary Hammel reflected on "organized religion's management problem."

Attempting to offer friendly critique from an outsider, Hammel provided a number of insightful observations. I found his piece intriguing on multiple fronts. First, I just think Hammel is an interesting writer (his phrase "mugged by change" will get some play with me). Second - being a pastor, I hear a good bit about the problem with "organized religion." In these conversations, often, I'm nodding my head with a strong, "amen, brother (or sister)." Other times, I have this haunting suspicion that we are asking some of the wrong questions and as a result, landing in some of the wrong brier patches. Perhaps that topic will be for another day...

Hammel had a few encouraging things to say about the church's influence:

The fact is, society is made more hospitable by every individual who acts as if “do unto others” really was a rule. And contrary to what you might believe, evidence suggests that, on average, “religious people” really are nicer—in practical feed the hungry, clothe the naked, sorts of ways. (And if you’re one of those generous folks, you’re undoubtedly embarrassed by the minority of believers who are quicker to judge than they are to love).

And a few distressing things to say about the church's current predicament:

Moreover, it’s usually necessary to decapitate the old leadership team before an organization can embark on a new course. In other words, fundamental change in large organizations happens the same way it happens in poorly governed dictatorships—belatedly, infrequently and convulsively. And that’s pathetic. It shouldn’t take the organizational equivalent of a deathbed experience to spur renewal. We need to change the way we change...Over the centuries, religion has become institutionalized, and in the process encrusted with elaborate hierarchies, top-heavy bureaucracies, highly specialized roles and reflexive routines.

I most resonated with his guiding hypothesis: "The problem with organized religion isn’t that it’s too religious, but that it’s too organized."

My sense of what Hammel means by this (or at least my own conviction that I'm reading back into his words) is not that we are too purposeful or that there should be no visible, flesh-and-bones reality to our faith - commitment to a community in which we embody our faith with others, for instance. Rather, I think Hammel suggests we are too manufactured, too programmed, too full of all our plans and certainties about who we are to be and what we are to do. Our faces are set like flint toward our destination - and we will exert whatever energy, raise whatever funds, pimp whatever value or political cause -- in order to get there. If we have always approached things in a particular way and if this particular way affirms how we view the world (whether or not that's the way the world actually is), then reality-be-damned, off we go (or here we sit, whatever).

And it's a sham. It isn't real - religion-faux.

When we follow that path, we lose our imagination. We sacrifice the simple (and essential) Jesus-way of friendship, curiosity, awakened hearts and courageous living, all on the altar of efficiency, safety, power and image.

And Hammel is right - that's a problem.

Eugene Williams

The first time I met my eighty-one year old neighbor, Eugene Williams, he said, "You know, you and me - we're making history." I was hooked. A few days later, I was back on his front porch, sharing pizza and Orange Crush with him and his wife Lorraine. Eugene shared tales of segregation and injustice, stories of my neighborhood. He told me how he was the third black to move on that end of the street - and how most of the whites quickly evacuated. He shared how he refused to use the cup labeled for "colored people" that hung above the water fountain at the old silk mill.

I walked into a world I never knew. I heard stories of my town and the way things once were. But more than anything else, I made two new friends.

Mr. Williams, a Charlottesville native, was born on Dice Street in 1928. Eugene has lived through much: a country clawing its way out of the Depression, WWII, segregation, the monumental Brown vs. Board of Education decision. He has seen many cycles of Spring and Fall in our city, many versions of city government, many people moving in and out of his town. As I’ve discovered, Mr. Williams has made many, many friends – he is beloved by many people from many walks of life.

And Eugene Williams should be much loved here – he has helped to make Charlottesville a better, more just place to live. When Charlottesville schools refused to desegregate (as did many Virginia public schools), Mr. and Mrs. Williams’ third-grade daughter, Scheryl, was bussed to one elementary while their white neighbor girl attended another. Eugene would have none of it – and he and his wife, along with a few other families, brought suit. Eventually, Scheryl arrived at Johnson Elementary, although unfortunately with a police escort. And again, when his fellow citizens needed an affordable place to live, Eugene risked most of his (and his wife’s and brother's and sister-in-law’s) savings to purchase and renovate 21 properties that provided 62 affordable housing units for those needing a place with dignity to call home.

Mr. Williams would be the first to tell you there is more to be done. However, because Eugene Williams put his shoulder to the work of forcing Charlottesville schools to desegregate and because he put his money and reputation on the line to address the need for affordable housing in Charlottesville, all of us who live here receive the benefit. We owe Eugene Williams our thanks. Thank you, Mr. Williams. Thank you, neighbor.

Culinary GameChangers

I can find my way around a kitchen. I may not be as fussy about cleaning up as Miska would like, but on the whole, I do alright.

Allow me to share with you three kitchen gadgets that have changed my world.

[1] Double-walled tea cup. I love tea cups without handles so I can cuddle with the warmth. However I do not like first-degree burns on my palms and fingers. With this cup, burns begone.

[2] Egg-Perfect Egg Timer. We eat lots of boiled eggs in our house. And everyone in the fam likes theirs cooked differently, which provides a problem for someone as haphazard and chaotic as me. This little beaut is a godsend. With lines inside indicating the various preparation levels (soft / medium / hard), all you have to do is drop the timer in the water with the eggs and watch it do its magic. As the timer heats up, the color changes in sync with the level to which it has cooked. I can not tell you how amazing this is.

[3] Pampered Chef Butter Softener. First off, two words: Pampered Chef. 'Nuff said. You are welcome to invite me to your party anytime. I love butter, real butter, like the stuff that actually traces its roots back to cows. I love soft butter, the kind that doesn't require a hacksaw to spread evenly on your bread. However, I do not like margarine or anything that surprised me that it is not butter. In other words, I do not like to eat plastic. This little culinary marvel allows you to drop your (real) butter inside, pour a little water in the lid (don't ask me how this works) - and sit this technological miracle on the cabinet (yes, cabinet - it doesn't even need to be refrigerated). Then, sweet mary! whenever you have a late night hankering for toast, you are one happy little chef.

Any marvels you care to share? And if you know a way to salvage the train wreck that happens every time I try to peel the shell off our boiled eggs, I will rise up and call you blessed.