Jury Duty
I was summoned to jury duty this week. It was only my third time. The first time occurred when I was living in Brownsville. I was sent home after a couple of hours because the case was settled before going to trial. The second time was last September hear in Tyler. I was sent home about 4:30 in the afternoon. They selected 12 jurors and I did not make the cut. This week, I made it.
The trial was for a case of aggravated robbery. I must admit that I have seen enough movies and television shows to have had a skewed view of real life in the courtroom.
First off, I had no idea that virtually everyone would have trouble staying awake. The only two that I did not catch sleeping were the lead prosecuting attorney and the defense attorney. I must confess that even I dozed off occasionally. Never have I drunk so much coffee, drunk so many Cokes, and consumed so much sugar in all my life in order to stay awake. I developed two or three pimples on my face for crying out loud. I felt like a teenager! Great. I've got the bald head of an old man and the pimply face of a teenager. I'm the anti-Hannah Montana -- I've got the worst of both worlds!
Mercifully, deliberations began yesterday (Thursday) afternoon at about 3:45. Shiloh's John Parker was elected the Presiding Officer by his fellow jurors, and he did a very good job. John brought good humor to the jury and I enjoyed serving with him.
It took us about an hour to convict the defendant. For a while, one juror could not vote guilty because some questions he had about a witness's identification. Although, he did not look like Henry Fonda, I must confess that I had an eerie feeling of, "I've seen this movie, and I know how it turns out." Fortunately, after some calm deliberation he agreed with the rest of us. We voted guilty and the judge will sentence the defendant in April.
After the trial, someone from the D. A.'s office told us that the defendant had been arrested for 41 robberies across the state. He's already gotten 40 years in Henderson County. Yes, just like John Wayne and Clint Eastwood, we have assured that justice is served!
"Take Me Home, Country Road"
Occasionally I will hear someone describe an experience that takes them back to their childhood. For me, it has been a hobby that I began two years ago.
On this date two years ago, I became aware of a website that was selling the original broadcasts of ballgames from the 50s, 60s, 70s, and later. Since then, I've come across another site that I exclusively go to because of the price and service. Now, I typically request for my birthday, Christmas, or Father's Day ballgames from my childhood. I enjoy watching them while I exercise. Also, my younger children enjoy lying down on the bed and watching these ballgames with me.
These games are the original network broadcasts, and many of them have the original commercials. I've got baseball games, college football games, NFL games, NBA games, NCAA basketball games, and NHL hockey games. I've got Monday Night Football Games with Faultless Frank, Humble Howard, and Dandy Don Meredith. I've got regular programming ranging from the CBS broadcast of the Apollo 11 spaceflight to the moon to the complete Tonight Show episode where Tiny Tim marries Miss Vicky. (That was one that I always heard about but my parents did not let me stay up late enough to watch!)
Some people can hear a song and it takes them back to a specific time of their youth. Some people can smell a smell and it reminds them of a specific individual from their past. When I lie down and watch these ballgames, I am taken back to those exact moments when I was watching them with my daddy as a boy.
Let me provide you with an example. I recently purchased in 1971 Major League Baseball All-Star game. Curt Gowdy and Tony Kubek were broadcasting the game for NBC. Joe Garagiola was selling cars for Chrysler. I was taken back to the den in our house on 200 Martha Drive in Winnsboro, Texas. I was sitting on the couch close to my dad, who was reclining in his easy chair. I could close my eyes and hear the sounds that were exactly the same as that evening back in July, 1971. Richard Nixon was president. The Cowboys were getting ready to go to Training Camp and try to win the Super Bowl (they had lost back in January to Baltimore.) I was transported in time. I was there.
My father's no longer with us. I appreciate how neat it is that my imagination can take me back to a time when he is, almost, there.
P. S. If you are interested in finding out what all is available, e-mail me and I'll be glad to send you the e-mail address to see a list of all of the games and programs. And no, don't worry, I am not being compensated for this endorsement!
The Misfits
Ever been to the circus? I've seen all sorts of circuses in my lifetime. Some were as incredible as the Barnum and Bailey Circus. Some were the proverbial small-town circuses, where you feel pity for the performers as you imagine the type of lives they lead.
It was those small-town circuses. I was thinking of when I read a chapter this week in Donald Miller's book Searching For God Knows What. Miller talks about a book he read describing circus life in America between World War I and World War II. As you might imagine, there were characters galore in the story: women with beards, and men who swallowed swords, a man with hands like crab pincers….
To make a living, they began to perform in small town and small city theaters. Crowds attended consisting of women and children who were either frightened or repelled by what they saw, while the men were delighted to prove how brave they were. Yet, a regional debate was sparked as some sought to end the shows. These critics felt their town or city were exploiting the deformed.
Meanwhile, the performers themselves wished to continue. They asked a good question, "Who wants to hire a bearded lady? Who wants to hire a man with crab pincers for hands?" The answer was, of course, no one.
As they traveled to the small towns and cities of this country, these misfits shaped a community. Interestingly enough, within this community formed a clear hierarchy. At the top was a man with three legs. His gift was concealing the third leg until the strategic moment that would bring the most astonishment or terror to the women and children. Once at a theater in New York, the three legged man approached the audience too closely. He accidentally touched a woman in the crowd. Her husband became unglued and, in a fit of chivalry, attacked the three legged man.
You might think this would have insulted the three legged man. Far from it. When the newspapers wrote an account of the event, the story stirred the public so much in whatever town the show performed, crowds lined up for a quarter-mile just to be able to get in.
The carnival's PR man knew an opportunity when he saw one. He sent a statement to every city on the itinerary recounting the attack of the three legged man. Because of this, the three legged man's salary was doubled. Here is where trouble set in.
The other full performers became very angry when they heard of their fellow entertainer's increase in pay. This rancor revealed a schism. A problem that had been hidden became thrust out into the open. The problem was this. The man with three legs trumped the woman with the beard. The woman with the beard clearly was of more value than the man with lobster claws. And the judge and jury who appraised their value was the crowd.
As you might imagine, most of the performers were unhappy. As the bearded lady put it, "Not everybody is lucky enough to get born with three legs. It's not like he did anything to deserve that kind of blessing."
Upon reading Miller's reflection on the story, I could not help but think of the absurdity of it all. What happens when you're a member of a group of misfits? What happens when the standard for success is contingent upon your "misfittedness?" That is to say, the more odd you are, the more approval you receive. What would happen if I were called to "perform" in a carnival of freaks? I suspect that the audience would be let down. I would be boring compared to the man with lobster claws for hands or the bearded lady. No wonder the bearded lady became envious of the three legged man--he had become a sort of rock star basking in the acclaim of the crowd.
When the abnormal becomes your world, when the abnormal becomes your community, if you are not careful, it is easy to seek the approval of the abnormal. Then, it is easy to become frustrated with God over being normal.
Allow me to put Miller's point into translation. The Fall has made all of us abnormal performers, and we are performing for the wrong audience. Each of us have been blessed in various ways. Some of us are physically attractive, some of us are blessed with financial resources, some of us are athletic, some of us are smart, and all of us are tempted to get the crowd to clap for us. We want the crowd's approval. As Miller says, "... there is nothing wrong with being beautiful or being athletic or being smart, but those are some of the pleasures of life, not life's redemption."
God wants to rescue us and restore our normality. Rather than allow him to do so, often we look to the crowd that is our culture for rescue. What makes things worse is our culture is becoming even more coarse. It rewards the freakish. So if you're a woman, who is attractive, the crowd is cheering for you to pull off more clothes and reveal more of yourself. It's hard to resist, because you find yourself in a community of misfits, who are already doing so.
If you are a guy, the crowd is cheering for you to pull away from any commitment of marriage or fatherhood. It's hard to resist, because you find yourself in a community of misfits, who are already doing so.
If you work and receive compensation, the crowd is cheering for you to spend more money than you make and to demonstrate this through possessions. It's hard to resist, because you find yourself in a community of misfits, who are already doing so.
Most of us hear just enough cheering to seduce us into a spiritual striptease, hoping it will gain us more applause. It's hard to resist, because we find ourselves in a community of misfits, who are already doing so.
In effect, Jesus says to us, "This carnival is leading you nowhere. Your view of life has become warped. In your falleness, you have come to believe that what is abnormal is normal. It's not normal. Let me rescue you from this. Allow me and those who surround me in heaven to be your audience. You no longer have to play to the crowd who calls for freaks."
Let me share with you a passage out of Galatians 5: 19-21 that Donald Miller shared with me. It is from THE MESSAGE, and when I read it in the context of Miller's chapter, I got goose bumps:
19People's desires make them give in to immoral ways, filthy thoughts, and shameful deeds. 20They worship idols, practice witchcraft, hate others, and are hard to get along with. People become jealous, angry, and selfish. They not only argue and cause trouble, but they are 21envious. They get drunk, carry on at wild parties, and do other evil things as well. I told you before, and I am telling you again: No one who does these things will share in the blessings of God's kingdom.
Miller concludes by asking that we consider how life would be were we to fully comprehend that God loves us. What if we understood truly that our glory comes from God? What if we recognized that people of this world are fallen and do not recognize what is truly beautiful or ugly, what is good or bad? And what if we no longer sought their applause, but rather God's?
Then, we could love our spouse and not expect him or her to rescue us. Then we could be slow to anger because we understand our rescue is not at stake. Then, we could be wise with our use of money because we would realize it cannot purchase us self-esteem or give good feelings. Then, we could love people without regard to their position in the community of misfits, because our empowerment comes from God and his love. Then, we could love people without regard for their response to us, because God's love is sufficient in and of itself.
If we could truly grasp this, what a beautiful world it would truly be.
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