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Merry Epiphany

The 12 Days of Christmas are just about up. Tommorrow is Epiphany, when we celebrate that Maggi bringing their gifts of gold, frankensence and myrh to the Light of the world. Me, I still haven't gotten my Christmas cards out yet.

One of the nicest things for a teacher about this time of year is that the college kids are still on break, so they come back to their old high school to visit. This morning I got to visit with Jen, a former cheerleader who is now a Junior at Georgetown University. She shared something wonderful with me, the Christmas letter emailed out by her Theology Professor. I know, we LCMS Lutherans are hyper-critical of any religious views that aren't our own, but I found his letter beautuful. I hope that you do too.

I wish you peace in your own varied holidays, and send greetings written in the final hours of my own. Forgive the imposition. History weighs heavily, and we should all speak clearly what is ours to say as best we can. So I offer you my own attempts to make sense of Christmas this year. They are inspired by conversations with some of you. I hope they are helpful in some way.

Mv favorite Christmas song has always been Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s “Father Christmas” which is sung in the bitter voice of a disillusioned child.

They said there’d be snow on Christmas, they said there’d be peace on earth, well Halleluia! Noel! Be it Heaven or Hell, the Christmas we get we deserve.

I always liked hearing that song. I’d try to find it on the radio as I drove to pick up my grandfather. A bitter tonic for the saccharine glaze of happy families, merry gentlemen, and all the other holiday BS that had little to do with my own Christmas most years.

Peace on Earth and... snow. Wishes ranked on the same level of hallmark sentimentality. The peace presumably of that that ideal scene of family sentimentality. “Away in a manger”—the cozy, warm stable, sweet hay, lowing cattle, and the little Lord Jesus, “no crying he makes.” As touching as it may be. it hardly seems to justify scaring the wits out of shepherds with angels singing “Peace on Earth.”

This fairy tale drops most of the Gospel framing: a vulnerable pregnant couple forced to travel because of imperial caprice, unwelcomed in a strange town, reduced to sleeping with animals. Sweet lowing or not, a horrible place to birth a child, The violence of the powers-that-be frame the story--from the Emperor ordering a census, to Herod, the petty client King, slaughtering all the male children in his realm to eliminate any messianic challenge to his power. It was as strange a birth for a messiah as the end it foreshadowed.

The deep story is so different from the fairy tale. It bears a more savage hope. In a world of violent power, God precisely does not give us what “we deserve.”

God makes all things new. Not with the sort of power we imagine--the power of coercion, of violence, of saying “No” to what we oppose, even when it is evil. But with a “Yes” that reaffirms that primordial yes that lies just beyond the horizon of our impotent, gifted finitude. . .that creative “Yes” that holds us and all things in existence

Frankly. I can’t say I much understand God’s power.

I am more familiar with the variety that says “No.” Modem Christianity is too. It fell into a great misunderstanding of God in this regard. Forgetting God’s transcendence, it imagined him as a Supreme Being. An all-powerful version of the absolute monarchs that ruled Europe at the time. A God like this can only elicit fear. God is in competition with us as another being, yet infinitely more powerful. Like mice sleeping in an elephant’s den, we hope he remembers us and we stay on his good side. But life would be much happier ifhe weren’t hulking about in our world, always threatening to step on us either out of neglect or wrath. God’s power is clear in the “No” it threatens us with.

“God” is no such monstrous tyrant, rather a mystery more about being than smiting, the ungraspable source implied in our surprising existence.

When we remake God in our own image, it’s clear enough how we should act. Impose our will on the world; eliminate other alternatives. Indeed so much of Christianity seems obsessed with saying “No” to all it finds wrong, confusing condemnation and coercion with faithfulness to the Gospel.

It’s harder to figure out how to follow the God who says yes. Creation out of nothing is clearly beyond us. But the Incarnation is about more than a baby in a manger. Jesus grew to adulthood and lived a certain way. A way that might make sense of how humans might exercise power like God. He was known to seek out the companionship of the excluded and reviled: prostitutes, drunks, tax collectors and collaborators. He reached across the no’s of excommunication. He spoke the dangerous truth against power and fear. He challenged political and religious authorities, as well as the fear and resentment of the crowds. He preached a Gospel of engagement, of attending to the desperate, frightening need of the poor, the sick, the forgotten, the imprisoned; of facing violence, without flinching and fear, but also without returning it. The Gospels are full of accounts of him practicing what he preached, engaging the bitter and broken, answering opponents, facing his would be oppressors. These yeses continued, through and beyond the world’s great “No” to him.

The core message of Jesus’ preaching (and one hopes of Christianity) is that God empowers us to do the same. We do so by saying yes to where we are, to the history and relationships into which we are born. We do so by looking each other in the eye and listening. We do so by facing those we wish didn’t exist. We do so by saying “Yes” to the obligations we encounter, even when they demand more than we think we can ever give.

A strange power indeed. A yes beyond safety, control, and certainty. One that finds the power to give in having nothing to loose.

“No” seems easier, as does, I suppose, an irrelevant fairy tale about a perfect little baby glowing in a stable. History desperately needs the new things our own “Yes” can make

Peace,

Prof. Miller

The Radical Middle: part 1 of 2

One of my favorite books of the Bible to read at New Year’s is Ecclesiastes. I think a lot of people turn to it in January because of that whole chapter 3 thing, you know, "There is a time for everything. For everything there is a season…" turn, turn, turn. Actually, the Birds added that "turn" part to make it into a folk song, but God and King Solomon pretty much wrote the rest of it.

What I like about it is how bare-bones pragmatic the book is. Solomon tells it like it is, he doesn’t hold anything back, like in Chapter 7, verse 20, where he says "There is not a righteous man on earth who does what is right and never sins."

What makes us all equal, is that at least sometimes every single one of us is selfish and short-sighted, everyone. Enough to separate us from each other, enough to separate us each from a healthy, loving relationship with God. Everyone.

Fortunately for us, as C.S. Lewis pictured in his children’s fantasy, "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," God sacrificed His Son, Jesus (as symbolized by the lion Aslam) so that we don’t have to remain separated from Him or each other. Unfortunately, He’s such a loving, patient God that He doesn’t force Himself on anyone and if we reject Him long enough, He’ll give us what we want and leave us alone.

But, self-righteous and short-sighted as we all are, most of the time, most of us think that that’s too simple. Either we accuse God of being worse than Hitler for letting so many people suffer and end up lost or we take it upon ourselves to become His defenders and enforcers, going around telling people why He hates them and what’s wrong with what they do and who they are.

That’s why one of my favorite verses in all of Ecclesiastes is Chapter 7, verse 18: "It is good to grasp on to one and not let go of the other. The man who fears God will avoid all extremes."

In the history of the United States, two great philosophers dominated Revolutionary War era thought. Each represented opposite extremes on the issue of human nature.

Thomas Hobbes believed that in their natural state, men were constantly in conflict, each person battling for what they thought were their own best interests. He believed that the only answer was a strong central government to maintain law and order. Of course, he also thought that some people were bred to be better leaders, so economic class, if not royal blood lines should determine who got to participate in that government. In order for us to live in harmony, Hobbes thought that we all had to forfeit some of our rights to the state, so that the state could protect us.

John Locke, a prominent pediatrician, sort of the Dr. Spock of his time believed that everyone, no matter who their parents were, was born with absolute equal potential for intelligence, and for good or bad. Given the same opportunities, anyone could grow up to be a competent leader. He felt that every baby was a "blank slate." Needless to say, he felt that in order to meet common goals, all we had to do was to compromise some of our personal interests. He called this a "social-contract," you agree not to kick me if I agree not to punch you in the nose. Locke thought that we all had to forfeit some of our rights to the state, so that the state could help preserve the rest of our rights. Rights to life, liberty and property (Jefferson changed property to "pursuit of happiness").

These two points of view (which honestly have more in common than either Locke or Hobbes would’ve likely wanted to admit) are reflected throughout American society. We elect Presidents instead of anointing Kings, but we hold up athletes and celebrities as if they’re royalty. We claim that we’re all equal, but we’re constantly trying to climb the social ladder.

In Ecclesiastes 7, Solomon warns about trying to be overly righteous or overly wicked. He’s telling the reader that it’s bad idea to be too much of a libertine- giving free reign to impulse, letting anything go- but it’s just as much of a bad idea to be too into legalism- a control freak, not ever letting anything go.

Both Locke and Hobbes had some truth to their ideas, but neither was completely right. We need balance. We need to hold on to one, without letting go of the other.

Next week: Moderation in defense of liberty isn’t a vice either.

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The Truth Revealed!

The best film makers know how to use music at just the right times. There are two songs in Frank Capra’s masterpiece “It’s a Wonderful Life” that have me so conditioned like one of Pavlov’s dogs, that as soon as I hear them, my throat swells and my eyes get puffy. One is the traditional carol, “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.” The other is a little ditty that you can expect to hear a lot this weekend. It was made famous by a guy named Lombardo and his Royal Canadians, but it was first written by a Scottish poet named Robert Burns (1759-1796). He wrote it way back in 1788.

I think that no other song can take you back and make you reflect on your past year or fill your heart with memories and make you miss your long lost friends.

Unfortunately, no one really understands this song. It could be that Burns had been drinking too much when he wrote it, or that Guy & his Canadians had been hitting the Canadian Club a little too hard whenever they played it, or that most people have had plenty of champagne when they hear it on New Year’s Eve.

Just like the much maligned “Louie Louie” by the Kingsmen, Auld Lang Syne has been the subject of suspicion and conspiracies, even investigation by the FBI and the NSA. Now, for the first time, thanks to the Freedom of Information act and an online English-Gaelic dictionary, the secrets of this holiday favorite are revealed:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

“Auld,” is easy enough to figure out, it’s Gaelic (the old Scotch & Irish home language) for “old.” And lang syne is “long-gone.” So obviously He’s saying sarcastically, “should we forget our long lost friends?”

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

“Let’s have a drink to old friends.” Of course, some of the friends who are most long-gone are the friends I used to drink with and I really don’t drink much anymore. But I wonder if what ol’ Burnzie meant was that his old friends had drank so much that they were “pretty far gone.”

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

“You have to pay for your pint of ale yourself, but I’ll still drink with you.” Basically, “let’s go Dutch.” I know, this verse is kind of a disappointment, isn’t it? I thought it would be much more sweet and sentimental. Oh well, no one ever accused us Scotts of being generous to a fault.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit
Sin' auld lang syne.

“We two have run about the hills, and pulled the pretty daisies, but we’ve also wandered many a weary step once or twice- since long ago.” Um… I guess he’s just saying we’ve had our ups and downs.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us briad hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.

“Once or twice have paddled in the stream from … till dinner… but now, there are oceans between us…” (that roar?) Sorry, the online dictionary had no translation for “briad hae roar'd.” Does anybody know wha the heck a “briad” is?

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak' a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.

“Take my hand, friend, and give me yours, and we’ll take a chug-a-lug to good will, for old time’s sake.” So you can see why, even though it was written back in 1788, it really is a lot like a fraternity drinking song like “Louie Louie.”

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

Make sure you designate a driver this New Year’s Eve. If you know you should celebrate for old time’s sake with something other than alcohol, please find some “friends of Bill W.” and get the support you need. If you wake up New Year’s morning and feel like you can’t wake up, try a shot of Tabasco in your coffee and some scrambled eggs, then go back to bed.

God bless your 2006.

What Would Jesus Want?

So, Christmas is three days away. Are you exhausted yet? Shopping, wrapping, planning, preparing food, cleaning, kids’ concerts and pageants, traveling, visiting, hosting…is it any wonder that this is one of the most stressful times of year. Sometimes it seems like Christmas is all about things. We say that it’s better to give than to receive, but either act is focused on materialism. Is that all Christmas is about? Just the presents. Getting what we hope for, giving what others will appreciate the most?

Has anyone bothered asking, what does Jesus want for His birthday?

Funny thing is, He tells us what He’d like. Micah 6:8 says: “He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

Act justly. That doesn’t mean that we’re supposed to become self-appointed administers of justice. God’s vigilantes. We are not supposed to force people to do right or to make sure they’re punished for doing wrong. It’s not my job to speed up and cut off somebody who just cut me off or who wouldn’t let me into their lane even when I signaled and everything. That’s not acting justly. That’s trying to be God.

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged.” That’s not just another old saying, that’s Jesus from Matthew 7:1.

Acting justly does not mean controlling others. It means showing some self control. It means doing the right thing, not because it will get me something, not even because it’s what God tell us to do, but just doing it because it’s the right thing to do.

Love mercy. You think Jesus does a touchdown dance in the end-zone every time a convict is executed? Does He raise a foam finger in the air and shout “score one for the good guys” every time a terrorist is caught or shot? Does He really want to rub people’s face in it when they get caught doing wrong or when the law finally catches up with them?

Just the opposite. Jesus doesn’t scream at people. He doesn’t slander His opponents. He doesn’t bomb anything. In fact, 2 Peter 3:9 says: “The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.”

What does it mean to be humble? In Philippians 2:3-8 Paul tells us, “Don't push your way to the front; don't sweet-talk your way to the top. Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead. Don't be obsessed with getting your own advantage. Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand. Think of yourselves the way Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn't think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what… He set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human!... He didn't claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death--and the worst kind of death at that: a crucifixion.” (from Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase, “the Message.”)

That humble baby in the manger born on Christmas loved mercy and loved us so much that He acted justly all His life and finally gave up His life for us, so that we can take a closer walk with Him.

THAT’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

Merry Christmas, kiss your Medicare goodbye

If the House version of the budget passes, 220,000 low-income families may lose their food stamp benefits. If the potential capital gains and dividend tax cuts get passed, 80% of the benefits will go to the top 3% of earners, who make more than $200,000.

Poverty is as much a moral issue as abortion. Republicans do not have a monopoly on "Christian" issues. Yes, vote your faith, but please, don't be a one-issue voter, and please don't judge us who aren't as if you're more Christian then we are or as if one can't possibly get to Heaven and vote Democrat. Supply-side/Trickle-down economics not only does not work (at least not well enough) but it is immoral.

Jesus said to his disciples, "I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. 24Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God." ~Matthew 19: 23-24

the 1,200 year old man

I sat in the booth at the truck stop waiting for Nick. We were meeting for my annual exclusive interview. It was not like him to not be punctual, but I had been waiting almost a half an hour past the time we had agreed to meet.

The next think I knew, an ancient looking man approached my table. He couldn’t have been more than five foot tall. He was dressed all in green suede and didn’t speak.
He placed a small envelope on the table in front of me, tipped his hat and left. Inside was a small card on very formal stationary with a web- address on it and a short not that said, “Mr. C sends his regrets, but a member of his team will meet you here.”

It turned out that the address was a private chat-room. I generally avoid chat-rooms, bulletin boards and especially instant-messengers. It’s not so much that I’m afraid of anything like opening my computer to viruses or anything, it’s just that if I wanted to talk to someone in real time, I’d rather be with them face to face, or at least on the phone.

I logged on to the Wild-Wild Web and checked into the chat-room as directed. Almost immediately, I was greeted:

CHB: Thank you for meeting with me.

TM: Hello, to whom am I speaking- or reading, as the case may be.

CHB: My name is ‘Calminaion Heldere Bekendheid,’ I am an elf. Mr. C was detained by an unforeseen engagement. He thought that you might not mind interviewing one of us this year as something different.

TM: Oh, Okay, umm, boy, how do you pronounce a name like that? Do you have any nicknames?

CHB: You can call me Bob.

TM: Uh, how long have you been an elf?

CHB: My whole life. How long have you been a human? What kind of a question is that? I was told that you were an experienced journalist.

TM: Okay, okay, Please forgive me. I wasn’t prepared to interview an elf. Let me try again...um...
Oh, I know, how old are you?

CHB (a.k.a. Bob): Boy, you’re a real soft-touch, aren’t you? Do you start all your interviews so impolitely?

TM: Oh, I’m sorry again. Are elves sensitive about their ages?

CHB: Aren’t you? No matter, I was born in 805 A.D. Don’t you have any more important questions? Say about Christmas, or Santa Claus?

TM: Wow. Uh, where are you from? Originally, I mean- I assume you’re from the North Pole now.

CHB: Never assume anything. That whole North Pole thing is a myth, but then, I suppose that as far as you’re concerned, so am I. You couldn’t find my home town on a map. My kind are from behind the gossamer veil between realms.

TM: Well, Saint Nicholas is originally from Macedonia, what is now Turkey. Is where you’re from going by a different name today?

CHB: I TOLD you, it’s not anywhere you could find on your own.

TM: Are you saying elves are from another planet? Or another dimension?

CHB: I’m no physicist so I really couldn’t explain it to you- it’s more of a metaphysical thing anyway.

TM: Okay... well, uh, just how many of you are there?

CHB: Of me? Why, I should hope there’s only one!

TM: I mean elves? How many elves.

CHB: Well how in the Dickens should I know? Do I look like the census bureau? How many humans are there? 7 billion?

TM: Whoa? Santa has billions of elves?

CHB: Boy you humans are sure arrogant? You think you’re the only intelligent life on the planet!
First of all, he does not “have” any elves as if we’re his property or slaves or chattel. Secondly, there are only twelve of us on the team. I guess there are thirteen, but Peter’s not an elf.

TM: Only twelve? But how can you make all of those toys? How do you handle production? Who manages inventory? Don’t you elves help Santa with logistics as well?

CHB: Oy veigh! Do all of you Americans only see things through a business paradigm? Your’s is not the only Weltanschuang around, you know.

TM: Welshishwhatzit?

CHB: It’s German for ..for... well, there isn’t really an English word for it- paradigm or world-view probably come the closest. My point is that it’s very clever satire to remake Santa into your own image, but the truth is far more mysterious, even mystical. It is MAGIC, after all.

TM: Are you saying that it’s all some New Age, Neo-pagan, Norse mythology? Is there some secret information like in the da Vinci Code?

CHB: Oy veigh again! When you’re talking about Saint Nicholas, one of the signatories of the Nicean Creed! If he’s de-evolved into heresy, it’s your society’s fault, not his.
My point is, He is more a metaphor than a myth, more an analogy than anathema. Why don’t you pick up a copy of C.S. Lewis’ ‘Chronicles of Narnia’ for Christmas?

TM: I’m sorry, maybe we should just give up, I think I’m more confused now that I’ve interviewed you than before we started.

CHB: You find yourself confused a lot, don’t ya kid? Merry Christmas anyway!

Poor Santa

my sister-in-law sent this (along with a bunch of other holiday funnies) in an email . I thought this was the best and too good not to share. I only wonder what airline spent the money to do this.

Yes, Dakota, There is a Santa Claus

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Leader & The NEWSpaper:

Dear Editor—

I am 4 years old. Some of my friends say there is no Santa Claus. Mom says, “If you see it in the paper, it must be true.” Please be honest, is there a Santa Claus?

Dakota Williams

Dakota, I think that your little friends are mean, insensitive, snot-nosed little bullies. Kids today are in too much of a hurry to grow up. Their older brothers and sisters tell them that it’s not “cool” to believe in Santa and make them feel like their babies if they do. As a result, they have to make them feel better by picking on other little kids like you. Everyone likes to feel important, and unfortunately, everyone likes to feel powerful. I wish that we could all feel important and loved because God made each one of us and has a purpose in mind for each of us, but unfortunately our shallow, decadent materialistic society and the amoral, market-driven media have conditioned us all to believe that there are pretty much only three or four things that make us valuable. For poor folk, its survival skills, either you’re sexy or you’re aggressive. For middle-class folk it’s pretty much all about how much stuff you have. And for wealthy folks, its all about how much influence you wield. Basically, no matter who you are, we all like to think that we are the center of our own universe.

Yes, Dakota, there is a Santa Claus. I wish I could tell you that he exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, but you know, those are things that sometimes seem to be in short supply these days. Alas! how dreary our world has become, because the icon of Santa Claus is misused as an advertising ploy. Or as a threat and a bribe to get little kids like you to obey. Or as a politically-correct, sanitized, homogenized symbol to be used in place of religious ones so that we can celebrate “something” without offending anyone by celebrating the birth of Christ, whom Saint Nicholas of Patara served, followed and strove to emulate.

It’s like when you find out that a star athlete that you once admired uses steroids or when a politician you placed hopes in breaks his campaign promises or when an anti-establishment band you listened too sold their songs to an advertising agency to use in a commercial. Or when readers find out that a character in a piece of journalism is actually a composite character, or fictional all together, like you, Dakota (oops!)

Thank God there are still little kids like you- full of wonder and excitement this time of year to prove to us that there is still childlike faith, poetry, and romance to make this existence tolerable.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in Spider Man. Go ahead and set up a webcam to monitor your chimney on Christmas eve to catch Santa, but even if you don’t see Santa Claus, what would that prove? The whole point of magic is that it defies explanation and sneaks around any empirical evidence we can compile. As Shakespeare put it in his play Hamlet, "there are more things... under heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

Dakota, if you haven’t seen the wonderful animated film, “The Polar Express,” based on the 1985 book by Chris Van Allsburg, you really should. I was a curmudgeon this year, an old Ebeneezer Scrooge who didn’t want to even hear any Christmas music until I watched this movie with my children. It melted my cold, cynical heart so that the Christmas spirit could come in and warm my soul.

In the Polar Express, a little boy is beginning to doubt that Santa exists. Once he meets Santa at the North Pole he is given a chance to ask Santa for anything he wants. All he asks for is one jingle bell from Santa’s sleigh. The only people who can hear the bell ring, are those who believe in Santa. Just because your friends or many adults can not hear the bell ring, does not mean that it doesn’t continue to ring.

I think that the Editor at the New York Sun who wrote another little girl, named Virginia, put it much more eloquently than I can when he wrote:

“You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.”

“No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.”

High School Sports; you can’t please everyone

Wow. I never knew that coaching cheer could be this fun or this easy. I’m scared. I’m waiting for the shoe to drop. Maybe it won’t, maybe this is the way it’s supposed to be. Maybe God has granted me this season’s new squad because He feels like I paid my dues last season.

The mom of one candidate who didn’t make it back on now “hates” me and her daughter is never allowed to go out for cheer again. Nor is she allowed to become mascot ( I BEGGED her to, but she’s on Drill squad and thought that she’d be gross and sweaty when it was time to perform with Drill, and I suppose she’s right.)

It makes me sad. I really love that kid and was rooting for her to make it back on, but she really needs to work on her grades anyway.
I appreciated this kid so much. Not just because of her awesome flips and tumbling, but because she was our glue. Our stabalizing element. She’s the one who ran after people who stormed off and wanted to quit. She’s the one person of the twelve who never went negative, who never felt sorry for herself and never complained. Even when she lost her Grandpa. She’s steady and she leads both by directing people and by example. And even though she’s a natural born flyer, she didn’t hog the glory but became an outstanding base too.

Be that all as it may, our candidates had to have teacher reccomendation forms and then they had to perform in front of a panel of six judges. I also figured student’s grade point averages into a points total.

Another mom chewed me out on the phone the other day for nearly 40 minutes. Her daughter and decided not to come back out (maybe she sized up the competition and saw the writing on the wall) she asked if she could help with JrHi cheer on the days she doesn’t have Weight Lifting- who knows, maybe she could improve and tryout again next season. She’s only a Freshman so she’ll have six more opportunities- besides many of this season’s cheerleaders plan on playing volleyball rather than cheering next Fall. On top of that, she had surgery to have her wisdom teeth out just before tryouts and had some bad reactions to her pain-killers, so she was really in no condition to tryout even if she had wanted to.

Now her mom is angry with me for not rescheduling tryouts. The girl was still a mess a week after tryouts. Our first game is Dec 3, I wish I could have had tryouts a month earlier- we’re going to be pushing it to be ready as it is.

I like this kid too. She told me that coming out for cheerleading was a life-altering decision that she made. I hope she still feels like that’s true. No one would have ever thought that she would come out for cheer, they assume that she’s brooding and sardonic and critical of perky people. And that’s some of what drove her. She wanted to prove her critics wrong. While I still think she’s too hard on herself, she made it. By the last game, she knew most of the chants and kept up, she even went up as a flyer in a half-extension mount.

Now, her mom’s scared to death that her kid is going to be up to no good every Friday night and she banked on her getting back on squad when she registered for a class every Friday.

Last week this girl was in tears in my room because her mom was so angry at her for not being a cheerleader anymore. Do you know how awkward it is to want to honor and respect the parent, but have their child come to you for comfort or solice because their relationship with their parent is so strained? Yikes. All I could do was try to reassure her that everybody goes through this kind of thing when they separate from their parents’ orbit durring adolescence.

But back to THIS season’s squad. Holy Cow! They learn so fast. They have so much energy and enthusiasm. They’re so sharp. They’re so coachable and cooperative. They get along with each other and there’s no DRAMA! No crying, no kussing, no tantrums. They want to workout durring conditioning. They don’t cut corners, they don’t whine.

We have two Freshmen, two Sophomores and two Juniors. The of the six are also on Drill Squad, so they have experience with “cheerleadery things” like jumps and 8-counts. Wow. Thank you Jesus!

But, kids are kids and parents are parents, so I’m sure that there will eventually be some drama. The other night in practice one of them challenged me because they didn’t want to have to take out their navel ring. Good grief. There’s always something.

Wing nuts

"Human beings are perhaps never more frightening than when they are convinced beyond doubt that they are right." - Laurens Van der Post