Month: December 2023

Word For The Year 2024

The Oxford English Dictionary, the preferred dictionary for all weight-lifters, recently announced their Word of the Year 2023. It is rizz. It is taken from the word charisma, which is obviously too long for many people to pronounce today. Also, you cannot further murder the English language by easily turning it into a verb or adjective. You can “rizz someone up” or “be all rizzed up” but it’s harder to say “I used my charisma to charm someone into doing something I wanted,” or “they were overwhelmed by the charisma of the event.” So now my 20-pound OED will have a few more grams added to it for the sake of ease.

As most of you know, I am a logophile, a lover of words. After all, that’s our primary means of communication. Even other forms of communication- music, art, interpretative dance, smoke signals- are interpreted back into words. They not only inform us, they shape us and the world around us.

Davenport

Some words stick around but are rarely used. When was the last time you used the word “davenport” to refer to a piece of furniture?

A word we need to bring back is crapulous. It doesn’t mean quite what you think (definition: to feel ill from overeating or binging), but it is a great word for an election year. And it seems we just break into laughter when someone uses the term bipartisan these days.

If you have been around me much for the last 10 years you will notice that I often wear a chain around my neck with two brass washers on it. Each washer has a word on it. One was suggested by my wife Cathy, when I asked her to describe me in one word. I’ll not tell you the word, so you can just imagine what it it, but I wear it to try and live up to what she sees in me. The other has a word that I choose for the year, something I work on or try to live up to. For instance, in 2022 the word was Listen. I wanted to listen more- to people, to nature, to the Spirit. In 2023 my word has been Notice. I decided I needed to pay more attention to what was around me. It has been an interesting year.

I’ve been thinking about my word for 2024. I’ve decided it will be Courage.

By nature, I am a people-pleaser. I do my best to help people get along with each other. I am not very good at confrontation. When I do that, I often feel like I am condemning others- not just their ideas or opinions, but the person themselves. Telling them that they are not worthy of recognition. Maybe that’s because I have often felt that way myself. So, instead of “speaking the truth in love” I do my best Rodney King. (For those of you under 40 years old, Rodney King is an African-American who was caught after a high-speed car chase and then beaten unmercifully by the police. Riots ensued. And seeing even more destruction going on, King made a plea to “get along” rather than saying something like “we need to find a way to prevent this kind of brutality.”)

This next year so much hangs in the balance in our country. We have a significant number of people who have given up on democracy and are ready to turn to a dictatorship. So, what I will need is courage, along with wisdom to speak in winsome ways. Even the prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures always ended up giving some hope. Courage is my word.

The purpose of this rambling is not to express my politics, though obviously I do. It’s to get to this question: What is your word for 2024?

PS- If you want to order a word for yourself, go here.

The Bartenders Prayer

First, a little joke- A termite walks into a bar and asks “Is the bar tender here?”

Edward Hays, in his book Prayer Notes to a Friend, writes his friend and tells him about the “Bartenders Prayer.”

It is not a prayer for bartenders, like this one. Nor is it a prayer from bartenders, like this one. No, it is more that looking at what bartenders do as a model for prayer.

I’ve been thinking about that. What do they do?

They welcome everybody who walks in. I don’t visit a lot of bars. None, actually. But my friends who do say they are always welcomed. And it’s not just for the business. Most say you could walk in, ask for a free glass of water, have a seat, eat the peanuts, and you would be treated as well as the person ordering bottles of champagne.

They ask you what you need. There is not a supposition that they already know what you want. They ask, and then provide it.

They uncork things. Beer bottles, bottles of wine, spirits, whatever is needed. A good bartender also helps to uncork their customer. They listen, maybe ask a question or two, and give you time to think. There is no pressure to respond.

And occasionally they have to say no. Usually done in a gentle but firm way, they tell someone that what they want will be dangerous for them and others. So they refuse to give them another drink.

What if we prayed with people that way? Welcoming them in, whoever they were, no questions, no examinations, no qualifiers.

And what if we listened to them, asked them what they needed? Over the last years of my work as a pastor I have stopped assuming I knew what to pray for a person when they came to me for prayer. On certain Sundays I invite people to come to the kneeling rail for prayer for healing. When they come I no longer assume I know why they are there. Though I may have an idea, it’s usually wrong. So I ask them, “How may I pray for you?” And that’s what I do.

And maybe if we spent more time listening, perhaps asking a rare question or two, people would open up more. There is grace in the gift of being silent.

And sometimes, rarely, we may have to say no, But do it in a gentle way. A way that helps the other become more responsible.

Maybe I ought to think of the kneeling rail at church more like the bar in the small establishment down the road.

Longest Night 2023

(Note: I am writing this on December 21, 2023.)

I love the neighborhood I live in, and especially my street. If you are ever in Florence this time of the year (December) take a ride through Forest Hills and especially down Iris Drive. Our street is decorated with every house having a small tree with the old-fashioned C-9 bulbs, and a plywood snowman with the family name on it in every yard. Some have a few other lights hanging from trees, and you can see our Christmas tree through the front bay window of our living room. None of the houses are in the running for the Griswold Award nor would we be on any of the tv shows with homes competing for the best lights. But every home contributes to the atmosphere of the season.

I like the street for other reasons, too. We have a mixture of families. Several years ago we had few families with children on the street. Now we have a lot, so many that we watch out for them all up and down the block. We have a few older retired families (like ours), and middle-aged families doing their best to get by. The yards are kept nice, and the neighbors know each other. At least on a first name basis. And while we care about and for each other, no one is intrusive. We just watch out for each other.

Which brings me to tonight. It is the winter solstice, the longest night of the year in the northern hemisphere. Where I live the sun will set at 5:13 p.m. and rise tomorrow at 7:21 a.m. Which means that we will have 14 hours 8 minutes of darkness and 9 hours 52 minutes of light. For some people, that is a long night.

It has been a hard year for a lot of us. Like many of you, I have lost some dear friends this year. A few to death, a few who moved far away, and a few in relationships that have died. I find on the long night I miss them all.

For some it has been a hard year financially. Though that is not true for Cathy and me, we have some close friends who are really struggling. We do what we can to help them through this tough time, remembering when family and friends helped my mother, my sister, and me in our dark nights.

For some of us, me included, it has been a hard year healthwise. Though my cancer treatment seems to have slowed the growth of my cancer, the treatment itself saps me of energy. And while I can get around okay most days, I often find myself exhausted from normal activities. Not quite what I thought when I retired and planned to walk across the state. Still, I am here.

And many of us are worried about the state of our nation. Living in a democracy is hard, and it appears that many people are ready to turn to a dictatorship. Seeing the possible end of this great experiment in a new way of living is wearing on us all.

And there are those who are fighting things spiritually and emotionally. Loss of faith, loss of hope, loss of vision for our future causes great depression. Suicide rates in the US are the highest since 1941, and suicide is now the number one killer of teens.

All this is on my mind when I wake up at 2 a.m. to go to the bathroom. (All you older guys know what I am talking about.) Before going back to sleep, I go sit in our living room and look out past the Christmas tree and see the lights from all the trees on the street. They somehow seem brighter in the late-night darkness. And I think of the lights in the world around me. Friends who have stuck close and continue to get closer. Those who are following Christ in the United Methodist Church and are open to people with different opinions. The fact that I have all the things I need, most of the things I want, and am able to help others in this time. My doctors, nurses, pharmacists, and therapists who not only treat me like a patient, but more like a friend. Having Cathy to help me through all these days, and sticking by me in long days and long nights. And the people who are working, striving, praying, voting to keep our country united. And those who are there for the ones who are struggling deep down, who have listening ears and open arms for the neediest around us.

And I remember, as I continue to look at the lights down the street, that as we focus on the fact that all of us live together on this little blue ball, we can make through. We just need a reminder of the light that lives within each of us. And eyes to see it in the darkest of times.

So, my friends, on this dark night, may you see the lights around you, and find the light within you.