A Hard Task Could Tip the Balance

This morning I got to share a moment with the kids in our church congregation. It was a good experience, but I think I’m more nervous about speaking to children than I am adults.

Children will take quite a bit at face value. Adults will call you on your b.s. I don’t want to screw up some kid’s faith walk. By and large, we adults are already screwed up at some level, so it’s more a brief diversion in an adult’s journey.

I believe what you are about to read flies in the face of human nature, or our natural response to conflict and antagonism. Doing it may be one of the hardest challenges we face in our life. I also think it transcends faith. See if you agree.

The core text for the message today was Matthew 5:44. It goes like this:

"But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,"

And here it is in context:

"You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

If I was a guessing man ... oh. Hey, look. I am! I guess that most faiths have a version of Matthew 5:44. If you’re reading this and you’re not Christian, drop me a line at david dot l dot Colbert at gmail dot com. That’s an “L” in the middle bit. Tell me what your holy texts say on the matter.

While the kids and I were meeting, we decided that persecute means to hurt. People could hurt you by not being nice. Maybe even very mean. They might even hurt you physically. So, pray for the people who hurt you.

 

Who are those enemies?

What is an enemy? Kids are pretty smart. They can also be pretty harsh. This morning, they told me an enemy is somebody you don’t like.

Ouch. Think of these reasons we may not like somebody:

• They look different than we look. Isn’t this silly? I don’t know of anybody who looks just like me. That makes for a lot of potential targets to dislike. I don’t think I have the energy for that.
• They act differently than we act. Unless we were raised in the same way, people probably will act differently than we do. Sometimes, they’re family members who shared our environment and still are very different from us.
• They don't believe what we believe. Our faiths, our politics, and the basis of our moral codes are just a few examples of divergent beliefs. Social media is a poor place for lessons on living life. The newsfeeds and tweets I receive are chock full of messages created in anonymity and put before the world with little critical thought. We should talk more. Once we get beyond labels, we really have more in common than we realize or expect.
• They treat us badly. This reason makes the most sense to me, but it doesn’t give us a pass.

 

Tough choices

You know what? Not liking somebody is a choice.

So is loving somebody. In the verses quoted above, Jesus wants us to choose to love people. And also to pray for them.

Not about them. FOR them.

 

For, not About

Note that we are not encouraged to pray “about” people who persecute you. That could end with us trying to convince God to apply our sense of justice. That’s not our gig.

Instead, we should pray “for” them. Apply the Golden Rule here (Refresher: Treat people the way you want to be treated). If you were praying for yourself, what would you pray for? I expect it would be good things. Very good things. Pray for very good things for your enemies.

If you’re little freaked out by the word enemies, pray for good things for people you’re mad at. For people who voted for the person you didn’t like. For the person who yelled at your child. For the person who ignored you or cut you off in traffic. These aren’t hardcore enemies, but they may not be high on your “love” list right now.

I told you this would be hard. If you have a regular prayer life, it may have just gotten longer. But there is an immediate benefit. As Pastor Bruce pointed out today, it’s really hard to hate somebody and pray for them at the same time. Imagine each of us tipping the hate/love balance toward love.

And a brief detour. My dad shared a sign he’d seen recently. It said something to the effect that “The hardest neighbor to love may be our own wounded self.” Good stuff in there.

That’s a little longer than I went this morning with the kids, but that’s the message. Choose to love. Start in the mirror if you need to. And pray for very good things for one another, especially the ones you’d least like to.

God bless.

Encouragement as Entertainment

Small-town life includes getting excited about things that larger towns might take a pass on. For example, last week a young man found a oversized bit of fungus. Admittedly, it was impressive. And it was picked up and shared widely on the Internet. But it was a mushroom. Please understand that morels are a seasonal excuse for excitability here. 

Naturally, basketball is a topic—for some, a religion—of abiding interest. Tonight, the faithful gathered in the Hatchet House for another reason. Filling three or more sections, we were witnesses to a rite of passage among youth. Prom Night. 

The scene of picks and rolls, layups, and sweetly swishing three-pointers was repurposed, masked in black plastic with silhouettes of a city skyline outlined in white lights. PVC arches painted Hatchet Gold marked the entry point, the diagonal walkway of presentation. A DJ booth filled the opposite corner. fronted by a black-and-white checkerboard dance floor. 

To either side of the walkway, round tables filled the gymnasium floor. Black fabric swept overhead, hung from the scoreboard to railings in front of the bleachers. The most anachronistic touch was a chandelier of cut glass suspended beneath the scoreboard. Somehow, it tied the scene together.

Normally, you wouldn’t get a large group of adults to come gawk at these interior decorating changes, but there we were. Many of us were thinking back to our own prom years and the annual transformation of the gymnasium. It wasn’t always fancy, but when the lights dimmed and music swelled it was adolescent magic.

Still, most of us were there for the kids. Our kids. Even if they were no direct relation. They didn’t disappoint. And they won’t be kids much longer. This was a coming-out party for young men and young women. Perhaps the last time or two we’d see them looking this good before they left for school or work and adventures we couldn’t share with them.

The young men looked crisp in suits and tuxedos, with ties and cummerbunds claiming allegiance with their dates. For one couple, a young lady’s bright red clutch was the accessory that complimented her date’s bright red tuxedo. His suit wasn’t subtle, but she won’t lose him in the crowd tonight. One young man wore no suit at all, but he was present and at home in his own skin. Another wore no jacket, not yet having learned that a jacket is as much a tool of chivalry as a fashion statement.

Each person was announced in turn, adding a flair of formality and recognition. Short of graduation day, we were seeing and hearing some names that weren't so familiar to us. This was a true cross-section of the student body. We admired their clothing, remarked on how nice they looked, and we applauded. We saw grace. We saw the discomfort of young men spending time in unfamiliar “party clothes. Young women balanced at uncomfortable heights and walked in abnormal volumes of fabric. We saw that ... and we saw people realizing how beautiful they could be.

The guests of honor reacted in several ways. Some were comfortable, some cocky. Some were gawky and bashful. Some couples paused for their moment, waiting for cameras to click and flash. Others awkwardly but determinedly shuffled non-stop through the arches and toward where they hoped their seats were. It may be a long time or never before they are at ease being on display.

Some were not couples, but solo, or two friends who decided that date or no, this was too good to miss. They may have the most fun of all this evening.

We saw the Prom Court and the crowning of a Prom King and Prom Queen. When it was done, we were politely invited to leave the premises. The rest of the evening was not for us. It was time. Their time. 

Whether you’re in a small town or a city, do yourself a favor and attend a Prom Night. Applaud and encourage tomorrow’s adults in what may be their first big night out. It will be meaningful to them, and maybe to you, too.

Do You Have Game?

Several years ago I got immersed in a first-person shooter video game. Sucked in. I gave it my time. My energy. My thoughts. When I wasn’t playing, I was waiting to play. When I sat in front of the computer, two hours would pass incredibly quickly. It was a rush.

Video games are fun. There are some things that you can’t do, though. If you turn where a wall is, you can’t go through the wall. You know the room you want is on the other side of the wall, but you have to go all the way around. Do you know why? It’s not your game.

You may play the game. You may have bought it, but it’s not your game. You can’t turn and enter that room because the code the game is written in won’t let you. As long as you play that game you’ll be limited by another person’s imagination or their purpose.

Do you want to play somebody else’s game? Here’s a better question. What would your game look like? Where would you set the limits?

Feel free to apply these questions to the rest of your life.

Keep an Eye on the Neighbor

Went to see D’s family this evening. I wish I’d known him better. I learned he was very bright (knowing his family, I figured as much). He was skilled mechanically, worked several jobs where he used his hands, including keeping a carnival running. He was funny. And he was loved as a son and a brother. His family amassed a sizable tribute in framed photographs, showing a number of activities they’d done together. From the smiles, you could tell they were good times.  
I can’t imagine — nor do I care to — what it feels like to lose a sibling. Just today I reached out to my older sister. It felt so good to hear her voice, to make her laugh, and to make plans. To have that taken away is inevitable, but sad. I’m sure the feeling will be much stronger for whomever remains when one of us moves on.  
I think Death looks different as we spend more time with it. At first, it hardly exists. We are in awe and something like horror or terror when it visits us. 
Later, we pretend it does not exist. We are immortal. Wise. On the early side of twenty. Then, death. “Look away. That is not for us. It happens to other people.”  
We learn to abstract it. It’s simply a harvest of the old, the feeble, the incurably ill. And it’s not fair. It comes other ways, but we’ll not think of those.  
Next, Death becomes like a bright, white Volkswagen Beetle. You don’t see either until you look for it, then you realize it is more common than you expected.  
Soon, Death becomes the obnoxious neighbor who crashes all your cookouts and you wish you didn’t grill out every week. But you can’t stop.  
Eventually, I suppose each of us makes friends with that neighbor and learns he or she can take us to places we’ve never imagined. Or weren’t ready to visit. Today, I just want to be aware enough to slip out the front door as the neighbor is coming through the back gate. We can strike up our friendship later.

Texas No. 7 -- Aransas Pass & the Final Resting Place

I am attracted by history. When I’m driving, if I have no place to be at a certain time, I’m likely to follow signs to historical markers. One such sign in Aransas Pass led me to Cementerio San Antonio de Padua. I turned off Route 35 onto Cemetery Road, a gravel roadway, and looked for the historical marker.

The marker has an emblem labeled “Texas Historical Commission” at the top. It reads:

CEMENTERIO SAN ANTONIO DE PADUAAccording to local lore, George Lewis (1859-1895) donated one-half acre of land at this site to the Hispanic citizens of the area for use as a cemetery, provided that he be buried in the center of the land. Handmade stones indicate burials dating from the 19th century; the first recorded deed was signed in 1933. Years of wind and rain have rendered many stones illegible. A number of children who died in an influenza epidemic in 1940 and many veterans of U.S. and international conflicts are interred here. A statue of San Antonio holding a child, crafted in Mexico, was brought across the border by the local priest for placement in an open chapel on the cemetery grounds. It is revered by the families of those interred here. (1998)”

Historical marker for Cementerio San Antonio de Padua

You can’t help but feel how personal this space is. In fact, it’s a gathering of many smaller personal spaces. Stones or a cement curbing neatly mark the boundaries of each family’s plot. The curbs and stones are often painted white and the graves are neatly kept. A wire fence with a gate encloses a grouping of several graves. The family name is on a sign at the gate.

Most of the plots have a stone bench, evidence that family members intend to visit and stay in touch.
As the marker says, there is a central, open chapel. The statue of San Antonio is shielded by plexiglass today, but stands on the altar flanked by two lamps on a white latticework wall. A small American flag of the type you would wave in a parade shifts in the breeze, tucked between the wall and Saint Anthony’s protective case.

Statue of San Antonio de Padua

With only a few exceptions, most notably, Mr. Lewis, the names reflect the Hispanic heritage of the site: Ancira, Aquirre, Benavides, Calvillo, Castro, Cortez, Davilo, de Leon, Elizondo, Escamilla, Fuentes, Garcia, Gonzalez, Herrera, Longoria, Lucio, Marquez, Mendoza, Mireles, Moreno, Novela, Ortiz, Palacios, Robles, Rodriguez, Ruiz, Soto, Torres, Trevino, and Zamarripa.

Several are World War II veterans, one served in in Viet Nam, and another was killed in Afganistan. The latest date I noticed was 2011. It pleased me that such a historic place was still being used today and that families were taking the time to visit and honor their ancestors.

Texas No. 6 -- Mustang Island

Before I even visited Texas, I heard about Mustang Island. The person telling me about it spoke the name as if it was something special. It turns out it is. In an area where marshy areas dominate the landscape, the island offers a real beach. It has specific habitats. It hosts a variety of wildlife. It ..., well, let's let Texas explain:

“Mustang Island, Texas is an 18-mile-long barrier island located between Corpus Christi and the Gulf of Mexico. It features a continuous line of stable sand dunes. Dunes are created through the action of waves, tides, and wind-blown sand. Vegetation is critical to dune stability. It anchors the dune and catches wind-blown sand. Dunes act as a buffer against wave damage during storms. Barrier beaches, dunes, and vegetated barrier flats provide a unique habitat for a wide variety of pants and animals.”

Aransas Pass and Corpus Christi both claim parts of Mustang Island. The Aransas Pass end, the northern part of the island, has a variety of home styles, RV parks, a satellite campus of University of Texas that specializes in aquatic science, and a beach that you can drive on. The Corpus Christi end has a state park and a variety of vacation rental options near the beach. It also has a bridge.


The bridge is an important point, because Aransas Pass has no bridge. It has a state-operated ferry service. Four lanes of traffic drive onto one of several ferries and cross the narrow channel.
Signage at the UT …. Tells the story.

“The Aransas Pass Ship Channel serves two vital and harmonious roles for the Coastal Bend of South Texas. It enables water-borne commerce that is essential to the economy and exchange of water with the Gulf that is necessary for healthy bay. Water-borne commerce through this channel dates to the early 1800s. Today, it allows transportation of oil, petroleum products, offshore oil exploration equipment, dry/bulk cargo, and military transport to and from the Port of Corpus Christi. The Aransas Pass Ship Channel is the economic engine that drives much of the State’s economy.”

I saw all of the preceding on Mustang Island, as well as salt marshes, tourist attractions, restaurants, and outfitters. The outfitters were there to gear anglers and to keep dollars on the island. Costa sunglasses ranged from $100-250. Jackets from $70-170. I’m sure it was all good stuff, but I know people returned from Mexico with sunglasses they cheekily called “Fauxkleys” for $15 per pair.
My first trip to the island was just to get the feel of the place. I drove on the sand beach, explored a couple of RV parks, and looked at the architecture.

One of the most interesting places I stopped was a nature preserve. Decked walkways crossed wetlands and wide gravel paths wound through the area. They led to observation platforms that helped you get a sense for the landscape.

Marsh Grasses

Development Beside the Wetlands

Water Plants

Fire Ants

My second trip began eerily. There was a heavy fog that morning. During the ferry crossing, I could only see bright lights on the other side. All else was hidden. I found a 50% discount on golf cart rental and purchased a four-hour block. Driving down the beach in the cart was chilly and damp. Visibility was low and the wind was blowing. Fog condensed on the roof of the cart and dripped into my face as I drove.

I ventured toward the western side of the island where sun was burning through the clouds. It was warmer and safer. After lunch, I returned to the beach side and saw things I’d passed in the fog without even noticing they were there.

My third trip to the island brought home the reality of wind-blown sand. It was January 22 and Panama City, Florida was reporting gale-force winds and 6-9-foot waves in the Gulf. Can you guess where their wind comes from? It was still breezy here on the Texas Coast. So much so that a drive down the beach did not invite leaving the truck. Nor did the drive to the northern tip of the island to boat watch.

Wind blowing up the channel created whitecaps. Huge boats entering the channel hugged the inside of the lane, just in case. Oil tankers are not particularly aerodynamic and they wanted to give themselves room to be pushed around. Fine sand grains blasted the side of the truck and anything else in their path. Anybody outside was made miserable.

I went to the edge of the sand area, tucked between the seawall and sand dunes. As mentioned above, vegetation plays an important role in keeping the sand on the ground and protecting against the force of the wind. It was calm, sunny, and comfortable in that area.

On the mainland side of the Aransas Pass Ship Channel, oil platforms are brought in for maintenance.  These two stand side-by-side and you don't appreciate their scale until you see a full-size pickup truck parked at the foot of one. 

A bridge crosses a pond at the UT educational complex.

If you're from southern Indiana, it may seem like redwing blackbirds are everywhere during the summer. In particular, I see them in the tall grass that lines many rural roads. In the winter, they're gone. They fly south, like so many people's grandparents. I've wondered where they go. I can't speak for all of them, but quite a few were flying around one very windy day on the north end of Mustang Island.

These two were flying about with a murder (I looked that up — I thought it only pertained to crows). Here they have settled for a moment on the gate of a private pier belonging to a University of Texas educational facility.

It was a particularly blustery day. Over the Aransas Pass channel, pelicans were having a difficult time making any headway. Some gave up, settled in the choppy water and decided to paddle instead. Being lighter and more agile, these two and their murder made several aerobatic passes before settling. At one time more than a dozen clung to this barbed wire between brief flights over the area.

Redwing blackbirds grip the wire on a blustery day.

Spiny succulent blades in the afternoon sun.

Cactus spines.

Two divers surfaced as I walked along the seawall. That was surprising.

Texas Gulf Facts

• The Texas Coast is approximately 375 miles long, from Sabine Pass to Brazos Santiago Pass
• The Texas Coast is on the northwest portion of the Gulf of Mexico
• The Texas mainland is protected by an almost continuous string of sand barrier islands
• This arc-shaped coastline and the string of barrier islands were created by winds, which blow out of the southeast for approximately nine months each year
• Southeast winds create longshore currents which converge off North Padre Island
• Currents move sand to this area, south from Galveston and north from San Padre Island
• Padre Island is one of the longest barrier islands in the world
• Passes between the barrier islands allow bay water to exchange with Gulf of Mexico water

Texas No. 5 --- Rockport

Rockport

Whatever your thoughts of Texas may be, Rockport is probably different. My first introduction to Texas was August in San Antonio. It’s not a fair first impression. I was herded from one place to another, had my head shaved, was issued clothing and gear, and kept from polite society for six weeks. To me, Texas was too large when marching or running. It was too hot, period. It was too new and it was not soon enough when I said goodbye.
I returned a year later for a month in San Angelo. Texas in September on the Edwards Plateau was hot, dry, and dusty. The steaks were huge. The river was muddy. And what didn’t want to bite you wanted to poke you.
Rockport is much more in the vein of Florida and other coastal states. The ground is sandy, and supports patches of tough grasses. Some grasses sprawl and others clump, making homes for wildlife. Burrs do well here and seem as pleased to ride on socks and pant legs as they are to attach themselves to animals. There is often a breeze and the smell of the water is unmistakable as you draw near the coast.
There are lots of bay views. There are rocky beaches. Along the water, egrets, pelicans, seagulls and pigeons gather. Diving birds tilt and disappear, rising several feet away.

Bird Life

  

Rockport is home to fishermen, both professional and amateur. The shoreline is dotted with marinas that hold a mix of working boats and pleasure craft. Bait shops anchor many of the piers.

Public Pier

Working boats tie up near the more commercial bait shops and get their supplies before they go out each days. There are two types of shrimpers. Bay shrimpers go out and come in daily. Ocean shrimpers go out for several weeks at a time. It's not an easy life. Then again, Texas in some respects is not an easy place to be.

Aransas Bait Co. 

The variety of home styles is interesting. Quite a few people live in trailers. Some in trailer parks or RV parks, but many on larger pieces of property where the trailer is the main dwelling. There are smaller homes that are well kept. There are smaller homes that are overgrown. Plant life along the Texas Coast is tenacious. If you're working hard all day long, all the fight may have gone out of you before you get home and decide to wrestle with vines and thorns. There are also larger, nicer homes in enclaves near the water. 

Wealth can purchase a lovely view. But there is a price. The pier in the following picture has endured intense sun, salty breezes, and quite a few storms. The homes that cluster along the edge of the bay get the same brutal treatment. Even if you have the money to purchase a home (a modest, unpainted, elevated home just behind the dunes on Mustang Island listed for $1.2 million), make sure you've budgeted for the necessary maintenance.

Weathered Pier

Since it is home to so many Winter Texans, Rockport has created an enviable quality of place. There are a number and variety of eateries. Many of them are devoted to breakfast and lunch trade, closing around 2 p.m. Without visiting any chain restaurant, you could enjoy barbecue with tender brisket slices, Maryland crab cakes (a welcomed transplant called 495 East), steakhouses, Mexican dishes, and quite a few donut parlors. 

People have an appreciation for art and color. Like makeup, the color requires frequent application to remain attractive, but bronze shows impressive endurance. Near the aquarium and Rockport Harbor, the town has erected several bronze sculptures in a garden, including porpoises, a turtle, a woman waiting for her sailor to return, and two birds.

Off Port Bow

Rites of Spring

Into the Wind

Off Port Bow

Rites of Spring

Man's Best Friend

If you're heading to Texas and you're near Corpus Christi, swing wide and give Rockport a try. It was a wonderful place to relax with friends.