Chip Shots

We didn’t know any better. After all, what kid would question the opportunity to go play at a friend’s house? “I’m going to drop you off at so and so’s for a while. You boys play while I go shopping,” Mom said. “Does that sound like fun to you?” What’s not to like about that? After all, these were the days (please don’t call Child Protective Services) when it was fairly common for Mom to leave us three boys in the car while she bought groceries. (Not that I recommend it, mind you!) Even so, playing at a friend’s house beats shopping any day of the week. (Come to think of it, that’s still true.) She dropped us off, we played together, she came back, and we went home. End of story. A week later all three of us had the chicken pox. Why would Mom play such a sinister trick on us? Why would she deliberately expose us to disease? Because she knew that this short-term childhood pain would result in long-term physical health. Moms have a way of knowing such things. I often wear a T-shirt that ...

Eschew Obfuscation. Two words, bold white letters, light blue background. I saw them on a poster while studying in my high school library. Eschew I thought I knew; obfuscation was unclear. Ever inquisitive, I looked it up in the dictionary. Thirty years later, I have forgotten neither it nor the ironic library poster. In an effort to eschew obfuscation, then, let me be perfectly clear: the key to Christianity is found in your honest answer to this question, “Who is Jesus, and how will I respond to him?” Jesus is a universally admired figure. Virtually every religion or spiritual belief system acknowledges his life and teachings. Many consider him a prophet, a visionary, a great teacher, a worthy example. Christians acknowledge these things. But we go a significant step further: we believe Jesus was God Incarnate. Jesus was unique in all history: no one like him before or since. He was fully human and fully divine. He died, was buried, rose from the dead, is still alive, and will someda...

Some people swear because they are angry; others swear because they are stupid. That at least is my opinion. I state it merely for shock effect, for calling someone stupid is practically the same as swearing at them. Angry swearing I can understand. I can see why, for some, “shoot!” just doesn’t capture the moment of frustration. For my part, the guilt of saying something unseemly would outweigh the satisfaction in saying it. Ned Flanders would be proud. Mindless swearing is simply … mindless. It’s the kind used so commonly that it loses all meaning, the kind that merely evidences a lack of vocabulary, the kind that loses all sense of propriety in a public place. I encountered it while traveling home from vacation yesterday. We stopped into Arby’s for a bite to eat. The gentleman in front of me, and I don’t dare try to publish the words he used, was frustrated because the person across the counter didn’t catch his order the first time. In edited form he said, “Isn’t there an American w...

In her novel, Death Comes for the Archbishop , Willa Cather crafts a fascinating portrait of a nineteenth century Jesuit priest. Born and bred to a scholar’s life in France, Father Latour served instead in the obscurity of the wild and woolly New Mexico Territory. He battled harsh conditions, primitive superstitions, and renegade priests while building a thriving diocese in the greater southwest. Now retired, he enjoyed a life of repose in his desert hideaway, the fruit of a long and productive ministry. Unfortunately, due to bad weather and an ill-timed trip, he picked up a terrible, hacking cough. Calling his loyal assistant to him, Father Latour asked him to secure permission from the current Archbishop, his successor, to return to his old study for a few days. It is apparent that Father Latour believes he does not have much longer to live. His assistant is happy to oblige but says to the aged Father, “You should not be discouraged; one does not die of a cold.” Cather’s text continu...