In the late 1970's, when in college at Berkeley, I was one of the chosen few who drove the Humphrey GoBart buses, shuttling students around campus in Mercedes Benz D309 buses. My nickname was "Captain Go Bart." This is my blog.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Holiday Giving
As we approach the "holiday season", people's minds turn to gift giving. With the world economy in crisis mode, it is an off season. If no one spends any money, then the ripple effect goes out and the economy worsens. If everyone spends money, the economy limps along, but some go deeper into debt, which helps exactly no one. So, what to do?
In an article on MSNBC Money Central, is an article entitled "5 great ways to give happiness". Here are the suggestions:
Think life, not stuff
Connect the dots, er, people
Make someone feel better
Make time stand still
Give money
All this seemed fair and logical to me, but something struck me as not quite right. Then it hit me, this was all still narcissistic, all about me, or people I love. There is nothing here about giving to those in need.
A few years ago, we wound up at Christmas time with an extra $600 to give to charity. Our church at the time, Faith United Presbyterian Church in Highland Park, ran a food distribution program. During the Christmas season, we collected small toys from various stores and churches and individuals in order to give something to the children who would often come with their parents. Most of the toys were mere trinkets, but they loomed large to these inner-city children of poverty.
So my daughter, Rachel, and I decided to do something about this. We drove to the local Toys 'R' Us, and each of us grabbed a cart. Rachel was to fill the cart with stuff for girls, and I was to do the same for boys. Each gift had to be $5 or less. We spent two hours in the store, and it was really fun! We checked out and the total was about $595, close enough.
However, what was really fun was setting up all the toys in the basement of FUPC, and then watching the kids come in and sort through these new toys, which were current. No comic books or puzzles from 20 year old movies. Their eyes lit up as they entered the gift room, and some of them had tears in their eyes.
Rachel had so much fun doing this that she decided to raise money throughout the year to do it again the next Christmas. She discovered that it is more blessed to give than to receive. (Acts 20:35)
During this time of year, please consider gifts to those less fortunate. Here are some possible suggestions.
The dominating news in SoCal this past weekend has been fire. Fires have raged in Montecito, near Santa Barbara, in Sylmar in the San Fernando Valley, and in Yorba Linda in Orange County. The skies have been brownish, and the smell of grass fire hangs in the air. The moonrise has been orangish, but the sunsets have been spectacularly brilliant with a bright reddish-orange sun againts the backdrop of dark clouds of smoke. It feels like the end of the world.
The prophet Joel said, "The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the LORD." (Joel 2:31)
And I am sure it feels like the end of the world to those who have been caught in the fire zones. To watch one's home burn, and one's neighborhood burn, and to see the sky filled with fire and smoke, well, who cannot help but think of the end of all things?
The Los Angeles Times has some spectacular pictures of the conflagrations going on around us. Orange County Pictures.Montecito Pictures. This picture to the right shows several palm trees igniting, and it looks eerily like fireworks, with showers of sparks raining down on the ground below them.
Several of our members, as well as Pastor Conner, attended Westmont College, and so our interest in what happened at Westmont is high. Also our former receptionist, Tabitha, is living right near Westmont. Westmont's web site is down, but a local photographer has posted some of the devastating pictures from the campus, here.
It is quite sad to see some of these gorgeous homes going up in flames. Homes that people have worked years to build and buy and furnish. And yet, in a matter of moments, all that work can be lost. I think of all the family pictures, the souvenirs from trips, the childhood memories and scrapbooks that are still in that house, burning up with the rest. Pieces of life. Gone.
I do not want to minimize the suffering and the shock, but Jesus did say,
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19-21)
I am reminded of a story from my college years. My friend, Sue, went home for Thanksgiving. With all the children grown and gone, her parents bought a new home, and had furnished it with all the nicer things they had always wanted. When Sue got "home", she encountered all sorts of new rules. "Don't touch that!" "Don't put your feet there?" "What are you doing? That couch isn't for sitting on!?"
As she drove away from her parents' home after a thoroughly miserable weekend, Sue got to thinking and praying. She felt that her normally stable and down-to-earth parents had been abducted by aliens! She prayed that God would show them the error of their ways, and restore some sort of sanity to her parents.
When she got back to her apartment, many hours away (in the days before cell phones), Sue had a message on her answering machine. It was her parents. She called them back at the number they had left, and heard that the new house, and all that was in it, had burned to the ground when Sue left. Evidently some faulty electrical wiring. Her parents were quite shaken and upset, but mostly apologetic for becoming so focused on the stuff, that they had lost sight of what was really important. Sue hung up the phone, and vowed never to pray again!
This one final picture just breaks my heart but also gives me hope. It is a young boy and his dog. I am assuming that he is sitting on the remnants of his former home. The boy looks sad, and the dog looks puzzled. The boy is hugging the dog, perhaps to comfort his dog, or perhaps to be comforted by his dog. Perhaps both.
Amidst the human wreckage of life, we should be there to comfort others in their losses, just as God is always there to comfort us in our losses.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)
Please pray with us, for those who have been affected by the fires, and for those brave men and women who are fighting these fires.
A terrific article in yesterday's LA Times by Bill Plaschke, on APU's soccer playoff game against Westmont yesterday. APU could have claimed the game by forfeit, but allowed Westmont an extra day or two to prepare, due to the fires. Westmont went on to win 2-0, but in the end, the support by the APU fans and players is something I am really proud of. Here's a taste:
Just as the emotion fueled Westmont, it drained Azusa Pacific, the classy hosts overcome by their own generosity.
"There was so much going for them, the fans, the momentum, the situation, it was too much for us to overcome," said junior midfield Eric Winblad. "We almost felt like the bad guys out there."
That's sad, because rarely in Southern California sports has there been a better show of sportsmanship than this, Azusa Pacific sacrificing its chance at a title defense to give Westmont a fair shot at taking it.
As impressive as the resilience of the conquerors was the kindness of the conquered.
Goodness, the school didn't even charge admission to the game and offered the Westmont fans a free lunch of pizza and salad.
"I've lost a lot, but right now, I can't think of one thing I need," said Westmont's Dave Wolf. "The people of Azusa Pacific have given us everything."
Monday's game ended, and the Westmont fans streamed onto the field, surrounding their heroes, singing, chanting, then coming together for a most amazing final embrace.
They tunneled. That's right, just like parents in a youth soccer game, they lined up across from each other, stretched out their arms, clasped hands, and formed a tunnel through which the players ran. Darn thing stretched about 50 yards, from Azusa toward Montecito, from despair to hope.
Wolf will soon begin a daunting search for a home for himself, his wife and their five children. But for a few minutes Monday, anything was possible, the sixth-place Warriors advancing to the national tournament, scheduled to host a first-round match next weekend even though they don't know if they still have a field.
"I know it's not a very sophisticated answer, but when you ask how I'm feeling about today, I can say only one thing to everyone," said Dave Wolf, staring red-eyed into a collection of kids dancing, laughing, rising from those ashes. "Thank you."
I am so impressed by APU's stance on this. I am proud to work there, and support these wonderful students. [JS]
Interesting question, and one that has been partially answered by Philip Yancey, one of my favorite writers, here.
His three-part answer is this: diversity, unity, and mission.
About diversity, Yancey writes:
One modern Indian pastor told me, "Most of what happens in Christian churches, including even the miracles, can be duplicated in Hindu and Muslim congregations. But in my area only Christians strive, however ineptly, to mix men and women of different castes, races, and social groups. That's the real miracle."
About unity, he writes:
Of course, diversity only succeeds in a group of people who share a common vision. In his great prayer in John 17, Jesus stressed one request above all others: "that they may be one." The existence of 38,000 denominations worldwide demonstrates how poorly we have fulfilled Jesus' request.
About mission, he writes:
The church, said Archbishop William Temple, is "the only cooperative society in the world that exists for the benefit of its non-members."
Good words, all. But perhaps the best word is one of the comments on Yancey's article, posted by a young pastor of a small church.
Philip, as one who IS in ministry, in a tiny, young church (that I helped establish) wrestling with the threat of not being viable in a few short weeks, I cannot say anything but "Thank you" for your insight, your obedience, your patience and the grace you exhibit. And also for being willing to make the sacrifice of visiting a different community every week. Be assured, you sound very much like Jesus when you write about his church. And I grow more and more in my love for her when I read what you write. Once again you have been a spring of water for a tired and thirsty soul. So, once again, thank you.
And of course, there are things I would have put in here, like doctrinal soundness, Christ-centered worship, etc. But since Yancey is writing about churches that he visited, it is probably fair and gracious to give him the benefit of the doubt that he just assumed those things were there.
I suggest a read of this article, brief as it is. We are struggling here at APC to be faithful to our past, and to embrace a new future that is being birthed even as we wrestle.
I think we are doing well at the diversity and the mission, but not so well at the unity. May the Lord grant us courage and wisdom as He leads us in the days and years ahead. SDG [JS]
A terrific article in today's LA Times by Bill Plaschke, on APU's soccer playoff game against Westmont yesterday. APU could have claimed the game by forfeit, but allowed Westmont an extra day or two to prepare, due to the fires. Westmont went on to win 2-0, but in the end, the support by the APU fans and players is something I am really proud of. Here's a taste:
Just as the emotion fueled Westmont, it drained Azusa Pacific, the classy hosts overcome by their own generosity.
"There was so much going for them, the fans, the momentum, the situation, it was too much for us to overcome," said junior midfield Eric Winblad. "We almost felt like the bad guys out there."
That's sad, because rarely in Southern California sports has there been a better show of sportsmanship than this, Azusa Pacific sacrificing its chance at a title defense to give Westmont a fair shot at taking it.
As impressive as the resilience of the conquerors was the kindness of the conquered.
Goodness, the school didn't even charge admission to the game and offered the Westmont fans a free lunch of pizza and salad.
"I've lost a lot, but right now, I can't think of one thing I need," said Westmont's Dave Wolf. "The people of Azusa Pacific have given us everything."
Monday's game ended, and the Westmont fans streamed onto the field, surrounding their heroes, singing, chanting, then coming together for a most amazing final embrace.
They tunneled. That's right, just like parents in a youth soccer game, they lined up across from each other, stretched out their arms, clasped hands, and formed a tunnel through which the players ran. Darn thing stretched about 50 yards, from Azusa toward Montecito, from despair to hope.
Wolf will soon begin a daunting search for a home for himself, his wife and their five children. But for a few minutes Monday, anything was possible, the sixth-place Warriors advancing to the national tournament, scheduled to host a first-round match next weekend even though they don't know if they still have a field.
"I know it's not a very sophisticated answer, but when you ask how I'm feeling about today, I can say only one thing to everyone," said Dave Wolf, staring red-eyed into a collection of kids dancing, laughing, rising from those ashes. "Thank you."
I am so impressed by APU's stance on this. I am proud to work there, and support these wonderful students.
The dominating news in SoCal this past weekend has been fire. Fires have raged in Montecito, near Santa Barbara, in Sylmar in the San Fernando Valley, and in Yorba Linda in Orange County. The skies have been brownish, and the smell of grass fire hangs in the air. The moonrise has been orangish, but the sunsets have been spectacularly brilliant with a bright reddish-orange sun againts the backdrop of dark clouds of smoke. It feels like the end of the world.
The prophet Joel said, "The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the LORD." (Joel 2:31)
And I am sure it feels like the end of the world to those who have been caught in the fire zones. To watch one's home burn, and one's neighborhood burn, and to see the sky filled with fire and smoke, well, who cannot help but think of the end of all things?
The Los Angeles Times has some spectacular pictures of the conflagrations going on around us. Orange County Pictures.Montecito Pictures. This picture to the right shows several palm trees igniting, and it looks eerily like fireworks, with showers of sparks raining down on the ground below them.
Several of our members, as well as Pastor Conner, attended Westmont College, and so our interest in what happened at Westmont is high. Also our former receptionist, Tabitha, is living right near Westmont. Westmont's web site is down, but a local photographer has posted some of the devastating pictures from the campus, here.
It is quite sad to see some of these gorgeous homes going up in flames. Homes that people have worked years to build and buy and furnish. And yet, in a matter of moments, all that work can be lost. I think of all the family pictures, the souvenirs from trips, the childhood memories and scrapbooks that are still in that house, burning up with the rest. Pieces of life. Gone.
I do not want to minimize the suffering and the shock, but Jesus did say,
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19-21)
I am reminded of a story from my college years. My friend, Sue, went home for Thanksgiving. With all the children grown and gone, her parents bought a new home, and had furnished it with all the nicer things they had always wanted. When Sue got "home", she encountered all sorts of new rules. "Don't touch that!" "Don't put your feet there?" "What are you doing? That couch isn't for sitting on!?"
As she drove away from her parents' home after a thoroughly miserable weekend, Sue got to thinking and praying. She felt that her normally stable and down-to-earth parents had been abducted by aliens! She prayed that God would show them the error of their ways, and restore some sort of sanity to her parents.
When she got back to her apartment, many hours away (in the days before cell phones), Sue had a message on her answering machine. It was her parents. She called them back at the number they had left, and heard that the new house, and all that was in it, had burned to the ground when Sue left. Evidently some faulty electrical wiring. Her parents were quite shaken and upset, but mostly apologetic for becoming so focused on the stuff, that they had lost sight of what was really important. Sue hung up the phone, and vowed never to pray again!
This one final picture just breaks my heart but also gives me hope. It is a young boy and his dog. I am assuming that he is sitting on the remnants of his former home. The boy looks sad, and the dog looks puzzled. The boy is hugging the dog, perhaps to comfort his dog, or perhaps to be comforted by his dog. Perhaps both.
Amidst the human wreckage of life, we should be there to comfort others in their losses, just as God is always there to comfort us in our losses.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)
Please pray with us, for those who have been affected by the fires, and for those brave men and women who are fighting these fires. [JS]
This well-known poem was written by a Canadian physician, Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, in 1915 during the Battle of Ypres.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.
This poem has been set to music, and paired with pictures on this video from YouTube.
Lest we forget.
Oh, and it is my baby brother's birthday today. Happy 51st birthday, Dave!
Hmm, I wonder how many of these you use. (H/T Kruse Kronicle)
Not all University of Oxford researchers are uptight and humorless, "irregardless" of what you might think. In fact, a bunch of them compiled a list of the Top 10 Most Irritating Expressions in the English language -- just because we needed one.
Though maybe "you could care less," the scholars in question keep track of linguistic mangling and overused buzzwords in a database called the Oxford University Corpus. The voluminous record keeps track of books, magazines, broadcast, online media and other sources, watching for new overused, tiresome phrases and retiring those that fade from use (or misuse).
The great hierarchy of verbal fatigue includes:
1 - At the end of the day 2 - Fairly unique 3 - I personally 4 - At this moment in time 5 - With all due respect 6 - Absolutely 7 - It's a nightmare 8 - Shouldn't of 9 - 24/7 10 - It's not rocket science
Here's what one guy wrote two years ago.
Spring has sprung (This is particularly annoying in Oregon -- I mean, have you looked outside recently???)
To blog or not to blog (Seriously, if I see one more blog post with this title...)
This summer, Bill Hybels wrote a book called "Axiom: Powerful Leadership Proverbs". These are proverbs that describe in shorthand some of the leadership and ministry principles of the Willow Creek church. One of the Axioms, is "This is church." It describes the reality of church life, the dealing with the despair of brokenness and sin, and also the glories of renewed and redeemed lives, many times at the same time!
This weekend was one of those times here at APC. We received the news that one of our dear saints, Dick Erdman, had passed away. He had been diagnosed in February with pancreatic cancer, and given a very short time to live. However, he fought it, and outlived all expectations. Dick was a man who never complained, who worked hard, who always believed in the best in others. When he told us that he had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, he began by apologizing that he had not completed some of his paperwork as church treasurer. Wow!
But Dick is now free of the excruciating pain he had been going through in the last two weeks, and is now with his Lord. We grief his loss, and pray God's strength and comfort for his wonderful family, especially Jeannette.
At the same time, we celebrated four new members of the church. Two youth gave stirring testimonies "live" in front of the church yesterday at a combined service. Robby talked about growing up in the church and aspiring to take the mantle of leadership, while Amanda spoke movingly of giving up softball to draw closer to Jesus.
Then two adults gave testimony, Kelly speaking about his desire to grow in Christ, and Kimo speaking about how much the APC family has meant to his own family.
Amidst the grief over losing a dear friend and brother and coworker in Christ, we welcomed four new partners in ministry. It was a glorious and moving service. I did not know whether my tears were joy or sorrow. Well, this is church. [JS]
I am wondering today why so much hope is placed in political candidates and yet so little trust is placed in politicians. Most of the world is starved for hope and has few things. We in the United States live in a country rich in things and yet are still starved for hope.
Further proof the approval rating of the congress is in the low 20's [the lowest ever recorded, even lower than George Bush] yet both of the candidates for President were sitting Senators as was one of the Vice Presidential candidates. How long until the fresh faces of todays excitement are yesterdays failures and disappointments? What really Lasts? What brings enduring Hope?
Barack Obama will be the new POTUS. My emotions are somewhat mixed on this.
I am thrilled that so many Americans got out and voted, and that so many younger people voted.
I am saddened that the Bushatred is so strong that so many people would use such messianic language about a new president.
I am saddened that whatever good will the Bush administration had following 9/11 has been misspent.
I am saddened that a good man like John McCain has apparently lost, though his campaign was puzzling from the start. If John McCain is the best the GOP can come up with, let the Dems rule for a while.
I am wondering why Obama supporters seem to be treating this election as some sort of Super Bowl/World Series/World Cup/Stanley Cup all in one.
I am wondering who the national press is going to turn on now, now that their man is on his way to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
I am disappointed that so many conservatives have demonized Obama, and been guilty of fear mongering, the exact thing the Left has been doing in relation to Bush for eight years. This sort of political "dialogue" is hazardous to the soul.
I am saddened that the American people are handing the reins to someone whose major accomplishments (aside from running a spectacularly successful campaign) are so paper-thin, and whose ideas are so vague, and whose depth of experience is so shallow.
I am proud to live in a country where there will be an orderly transition to power.
I am proud to live in such a backwards and racist country that an African American man was overwhelmingly elected to the highest office in the land. Yup, certainly a land full of redneck brownshirts.
I am profoundly disappointed in my Christian friends who are saying, "Now we have hope." Isn't hope a theological word? And isn't hope grounded in who God is? When they say it is not about the election results, what is it about then? Why is there hope on Wednesday where there was no hope on Tuesday? Our hope is, and always has been, and always will be, in the Lord.
Still, I remain hopeful that as a country, we will work together for a better future.
Words matter, and I will pray that the soaring rhetoric of Obama is matched by actions that help bring some of that to fruition.
I am hopeful that the apocalyptic warnings of some religious conservatives will not come to pass.
I am hopeful that some of the snarky bittermans who have "hated" America will now find themselves positive patriots, though snark tends to poison the soul to beauty truth and goodness, I am afraid.
I am hoping that the church can catch a clue from the Obama campaign, that stories and aspirational thinking inspires people more than fear. (Remember Monsters, Inc.!)
When I wake up tomorrow and the polls say Obama is the next POTUS elect, I will make every effort to pray for him, that he would be wise beyond his experience, that he would, like that other senator from Illinois 150 years ago, listen to those who disagree with him. I will pray that he be more like Lincoln in reconstruction than the carpet-baggers, as power has a tendency to corrupt. I will pray for his vision to include all people, and that justice will prevail. I will pray for his resistance to the cronyism so rampant in Washington DC on BOTH sides of the aisle. I will pray that he has ears to hear from the Lord.
I will not move to Canada. I will not print petty vitriolic stuff about the president. I hope not to have the childish reactions of those whose candidate "lost" the last two elections, and cried for blood from day one.
He will be, after all, my president. And whether I agree or disagree, I am loyal to those that lead this great country. His success will the our success. May God bless Barack Obama and his family, and this country.
Tomorrow is election day, and not a moment too soon. The trash talk and the negative campaigning are almost done. I wonder if we are a better country for it. Well, I know we are a better country because we at least have this choice to vote, and make our voices heard.
I cam across this story about John McCain today (H/T Powerline) and I was inspired by it. For all those who treat politics as a religion, or containing some existential meaning to life, I am still pulled by the simple decency of human beings.
This story was written six months ago on Slate, but Michael Lewis, who has written a fascinating book on football and the dynamics of family life and the influence one family can have on a young man's life. Not known to be friendly to McCain, Slate ran this article in April 2008.
The Great McCain Story You've Probably Forgotten
What an old anecdote about Mo Udall in the hospital reveals about McCain's character.
By Michael Lewis Posted Wednesday, April 9, 2008, at 6:47 AM ET
Back in 1996 and 1997, before John McCain was a presidential candidate or object of media fascination, Michael Lewis followed the Arizona senator around as he campaigned for Bob Dole and worked to reform campaign-finance laws. Lewis' pieces for the New Republic and the New York Times Magazine portrayed McCain as a passionate, cantankerous, astonishingly honest political characterwho frequently acted in ways that brought him no political gain. In the recent back-and-forth over whether McCain is a regular politician or a true outlier, we remembered a wonderful moment from Lewis' 1997 New York Times Magazine profile of McCain, "The Subversive." The passage below comes at the very end of Lewis' article.
By 7:30 we were on the road, and McCain was reminiscing about his early political career. When he was elected to the House in 1982, he said, he was "a freshman right-wing Nazi." But his visceral hostility toward Democrats generally was quickly tempered by his tendency to see people as individuals and judge them that way. He was taken in hand by Morris Udall, the Arizona congressman who was the liberal conscience of the Congress and a leading voice for reform. (Most famously—and disastrously for his own career—Udall took aim at the seniority system that kept young talent in its place at the end of the dais. "The longer you're here, the more you'll like it," he used to joke to incoming freshmen.)
"Mo reached out to me in 50 different ways," McCain recalled. "Right from the start, he'd say: 'I'm going to hold a press conference out in Phoenix. Why don't you join me?' All these journalists would show up to hear what Mo had to say. In the middle of it all, Mo would point to me and say, 'I'd like to hear John's views.' Well, hell, I didn't have any views. But I got up and learned and was introduced to the state." Four years later, when McCain ran for and won Barry Goldwater's Senate seat, he said he felt his greatest debt of gratitude not to Goldwater—who had shunned him—but to Udall. "There's no way Mo could have been more wonderful," he says, "and there was no reason for him to be that way."
For the past few years, Udall has lain ill with Parkinson's disease in a veterans hospital in Northeast Washington, which is where we were heading. Every few weeks, McCain drives over to pay his respects. These days the trip is a ceremony, like going to church, only less pleasant. Udall is seldom conscious, and even then he shows no sign of recognition. McCain brings with him a stack of newspaper clips on Udall's favorite subjects: local politics in Arizona, environmental legislation, Native American land disputes, subjects in which McCain initially had no particular interest himself. Now, when the Republican senator from Arizona takes the floor on behalf of Native Americans, or when he writes an op-ed piece arguing that the Republican Party embrace environmentalism, or when the polls show once again that he is Arizona's most popular politician, he remains aware of his debt to Arizona's most influential Democrat.
One wall of Udall's hospital room was cluttered with photos of his family back in Arizona; another bore a single photograph of Udall during his season with the Denver Nuggets, dribbling a basketball. Aside from a congressional seal glued to a door jamb, there was no indication what the man in the bed had done for his living. Beneath a torn gray blanket on a narrow hospital cot, Udall lay twisted and disfigured. No matter how many times McCain tapped him on the shoulder and called his name, his eyes remained shut.
A nurse entered and seemed surprised to find anyone there, and it wasn't long before I found out why: Almost no one visits anymore. In his time, which was not very long ago, Mo Udall was one of the most-sought-after men in the Democratic Party. Yet as he dies in a veterans hospital a few miles from the Capitol, he is visited regularly only by a single old political friend, John McCain. "He's not going to wake up this time," McCain said.
On the way out of the parking lot, McCain recalled what it was like to be a nobody called upon by a somebody. As he did, his voice acquired the same warmth that colored Russell Feingold's speech when he described the first call from John McCain. "When you called Feingold … " I started to ask him. But before I could, he interrupted. "Yeah," he says, "I thought of Mo." And then, for maybe the third time that morning, McCain spoke of how it affected him when Udall took him in hand. It was a simple act of affection and admiration, and for that reason it meant all the more to McCain. It was one man saying to another, We disagree in politics but not in life. It was one man saying to another, party political differences cut only so deep. Having made that step, they found much to agree upon and many useful ways to work together. This is the reason McCain keeps coming to see Udall even after Udall has lost his last shred of political influence. The politics were never all that important.
I am an ordained Presbyterian pastor, serving the Harvest Presbyterian Church in Ceres (pronounced "series"), California. I also serve as the Treasurer for the Presbytery of Stockton. I used to be an AYSO soccer referee (Advanced). I used to teach New Testament as a Adjunct at Azusa Pacific University for 18 years. My wife and I have two amazing children who are not kids anymore. Some of us like spicy food. I like Thin Mints.
