The Power of Unity

“Every religion stresses love, respect, and sharing other's suffering." ~ Dalai Lama

Miss Gallagher gave her second graders an assignment to bring an item from home that symbolized their religious background.  It offered an opportunity for her students to celebrate their spiritual practices together, even if they don’t overlap.  

At show-and-tell time, they began to share what each particular item meant to their family’s  traditions.  It was meant to teach the kids about the worship diversity around the country.

One child brought a Roman Catholic Rosary and pointed out that it’s made up of a cross or crucifix, a medal, large beads and small beads.  He shared with the class how they used the beads to keep track of the 3 basic prayers: Our Father, Hail Mary and  Glory Be prayers.

A Native American child brought a dream catcher.  She told the class how mothers and grandmothers would weave magical webs for the children, using willow hoops and cords made from plants.  The dreamcatchers would filter out all bad dreams and only allow good thoughts to enter their minds.  Once the sun rose, all bad dreams disappeared.

A Jewish child brought a candle and talked about how it was used to celebrate Hanukkah, an 8-day festival celebrating the triumph of light over darkness, spirituality over materiality, and of purity over sin.  Mostly and according to Judaism, it celebrates the fact that God can make miracles for those who stand up for truth and justice.

A Muslim student brought a small embroidered Prayer Rug.  He showed how Islamic worshippers kneel and bow low to the ground in humility before God.   When the time for prayer comes, worshippers spread their rug on the ground, so that its top points towards the direction of Mecca, Saudi Arabia.  Afterwards, the rug is immediately rolled and safely stored to ensure its cleanliness.

A Southern Baptist, brought a homemade chicken casserole.  “There's no highfalutin cooking going on here,” he said.  “Just soul warming food made from scratch.  Potluck dinners are a tradition in our church.  And believe it or not, they’re more about sharing and giving than actually eating.” 

Miss Gallagher taught a lesson that day, but not the one she was planning on. We may be diverse in our backgrounds, but it is the power of unity that can bring great worship.

Clearly, the diversity of religions has created contention rather than community in many cases.  Many of us shy away from exploring unfamiliar religious holidays because we’re concerned about our own ignorance or about offending others.  

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” is a basic tenet of virtually every religion in the world.  Accordingly, all religions are at their most fundamental level, the same.  They are connected, forming a powerful unifying force if properly understood.

Lord I pray for an end to the madness of war raged in the name of religion.  May we each be peacefully free to attend matters of our spirit in any way as long as it extends respect and peace to others.  Amen

Kayla's Coach

“He changed my sorrow into dancing." ~ Psalm 30:11

He’d become her second father – the central point in her life.  The high school track coach that had lifted her from deep depression now catches her every time she crosses the finish line. 

Literally! 

Three years ago, Kayla Montgomery took an unexpected spill during a high school soccer game.  Later that night, her feet went numb and a tingling sensation shot up her spine.  Her parents initially thought it was normal muscle strain, but the situation became more serious when the numbness continued for days.

After months of tests, doctors finally diagnosed Kayla with multiple sclerosis (MS), a disease that attacks the nervous system, disrupting motor coordination and movement.  Kayla was terrified that she might never walk, let alone run again.  Depression roared in like a runaway freight train.

Enter Coach Cromwell, a guy who believes that every athlete - regardless of skill level - deserves the opportunity to be part of a team.  The former college athlete had changed his own life from a boy embarrassed by girls beating him in races to a record holding middle distance runner.

He helped her realize that there was no point in pitying herself or blaming God for her condition.  Kayla wanted desperately back in sports, but ball sports were out of the question due to her MS.  So Coach invited her to join the track team. 

MS is mysterious.  In Kayla’s case, she doesn’t start losing the feeling in her legs until about the first mile marker.  Her legs go numb as her body temperature rises.  She runs as if on autopilot after that.  Momentum is all that keeps her moving forward.

Thanks to dogged determination, hard work, and a coach who believed in her, Kayla went from being just an average competitor to one of the country's fastest young 3200 meter runners, ranking 21^st nationally.

But due to MS, Kayla isn’t able to come to a full, controlled stop after she crosses the finish line.  There she collapses in excruciating pain as she struggles to regain feeling in both her legs.  Coach Cromwell catches here every time.

For Kayla, running is more than a sport; it keeps her one step ahead of her disease.  There may even be a silver lining – MS stole her ability to take things for granted.   Having energy, walking, and being pain free are now luxuries; running became a great distraction from whatever life threw at her.  It allowed her to reach her full potential and become more resourceful than ever. 

Because MS is so unpredictable, it’s unclear how Kayla’s condition will progress.  But the young college student who runs for her university’s cross-country team has vowed to use her gift of mobility as long as she can.

Lord, please alert me whenever I start feeling sorry for myself.  Keep me from being self-absorbed, and teach me to bring all of my hurts and hardships straight to You.  Heal and comfort me the way that only You can.  Amen

Hard Time

“Now that we’ve been put right with God through faith, we have peace." ~ Romans 5:1

Jolene’s master controlled every aspect of her body, soul and mind for decades.  She’d do anything to get to him; lie, steal, cheat.  No one embodied the extremes more.  She loved the energy and happiness he brought; separation caused intense physical longing.

Reunions made everything whole again; the world became whimsical and perfect.  He was all Jolene ever craved needed.  He was her addiction.  Her drug of choice was anything she could get her hands on.  Until 9 years ago when Jolene was arrested on a 3-strikes-bust for criminal possession – a death sentence of sorts in California.

She lives in an unforgiving cell now, with only an occasional insect for company.  Its creaky bed and a springy mattress hold nothing more than the decaying human minds within it. 

Prison life hardened Jolene.  Her self-hatred frequently erupted in revenge and violence.  Younger inmates were particularly vulnerable.  A so-called “Tank Boss,” Jolene’s controlling nature provided an example of what evil women can achieve behind bars.

Today’s ‘victim’ looked terrified.  Her skin was sickly; pallid and stretched over her stark bones.  Sadness sat an inch below her face, eyes remained dry, expression impassive.  She feared that if she even let out a fraction the rest would follow; a boundless flood of remorse.

Something about this girl looked painfully familiar to Jolene; maybe a vision of herself 25 years ago.  Or could this be her own flesh and blood – the child she abandoned when she chose drugs over her own kid?  What a terrible Mom she’d been – she deserved prison. 

No, of course not!   

Her daughter and two sons had been taken from her and placed in a lovely foster home.  With any luck, her children forgot about her long ago.

But the delusion seemed to gain traction, like an IndyCar racing slick on dry pavement.  Something clicked . . . something that would change her life forever.  After befriending that young mother, Jolene knew she was being called to a ministry she couldn’t ignore.

So after a lifetime mostly high (even behind walls), Jolene became somewhat of a ‘Jail Mom.’  No more violence, no more hatred, no domination of weaker inmates.  She spends her days trying to coax younger inmates out of the “game” before they fall too deep, before it’s too late, using her own wasted life as a cautionary tale.

She sees her new role as a step towards recovery, maybe even redemption.  

When God forgives, our sins will never again be held against us.  Is your standard of forgiving higher than Gods?  To believe that we can be forgiven by God but not forgive ourselves makes God a liar.  Hmm?

Gracious God, I am heavy with my own failures.  Assure me of the truth that by casting “my sins into the depth of the sea” (Micah 7:19b), You have freed me to shed them myself and live the next moment as if it were my first.  Amen

The Intruder

“Teach your children well and they’ll remember for a lifetime. ~ Proverbs 22:6

About the time I was born, Dad met a stranger new to these parts.  So fascinated by his charm, Dad invited him to live with us.  ‘Telly’ was quickly accepted and lived with us from then on.

Telly entertained us for hours with adventures, mysteries and comedies.  Reading became so much less important.  If we wanted to know about politics, history or science, Telly seemed to know everything about the past and current events.  He even offered regular predictions about the future!  Oddly enough though, he didn’t seem to know much about the Bible.

As far as I knew, Dad never asked him for rent money.  But Telly took my family to our first major league baseball game; the launch of America’s first manned spacecraft, even the Beatle’s arrival at JFK airport.  He seemed to know all the right people. 

Telly became our family’s center of attention.  Dad liked that.  After a long day’s work, he no longer had to play catch with me in the backyard, listen to my complaints, or even help with homework.  Telly handled it.  

Dad ruled our home with certain moral convictions, but Telly never seemed to honor them.  Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home – not from us or anyone else.  Telly, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made Mom blush.

Dad didn’t permit the use of alcohol but Telly encouraged us to try it on a regular basis.  He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.

When he spoke about sex, his comments were suggestive and embarrassing.  My earliest ideas about relationships were largely influenced by him.  Telly frequently opposed my parent’s values, yet he was never asked to leave.  In fact, if you could walk into my parents’ den today, you’ll still find him over in the corner.  He’s just much bigger, more colorful and every bit as significant now.

Telly, aka TV, and often called the ‘boob tube’ is ever-blamed for society’s demise.   Anti-television advocacy groups have protested for decades that the “idiot box” is ruining our lives.  

But we consumers have the world’s most powerful control over television.  It’s called the ‘OFF’ button.  If you think Telly is ruining your life, than perhaps it’s time to realize that you have more power than you think.  It isn’t the fault of wicked TV stations and evil networks trying to brainwash you or your children.

Replace the habit of TV watching with something else.  Walk in the park, play a family game, or hop on the treadmill.  Try scheduling regular meetings so that your entire family spends quality time together.  The choice is, and always has been, YOURS.

Almighty Father, shine Your light upon my family.  Give us strength to overcome all of the difficulties that we face and protect us from evil.  May the love that binds us only grow stronger as we fulfill the destiny you’ve laid out for us.  Amen

Bottom's Up

“Greatness starts with serving others." ~ Mark 10:43-44

Growing up in the Projects near Coney Island in the 50’s, Howie’s family was considered “working poor.”  For them, a thin line separated survival and disaster.  One unforeseen event - an illness, a rent increase, a layoff - could be devastating.

Such was their tragedy.  At age 7, Howie’s Dad lost his job as a diaper-delivery driver after breaking his ankle.  Back then, neither sick pay nor disability benefits were offered to those in low-paying jobs.  Soon the family was unable to put food on the table - a memory that Howie would carry with him into adulthood.

As the oldest of three children, he was forced to work at an early age.  He had a paper route.  Later he worked the counter at a local diner - always sharing part of his earnings with his Mom.

At sixteen, Howie got a job in Manhattan’s garment district as a furrier, stretching animal skins.  It was unpleasant work, leaving his hands thickly calloused.  For an extra dime per hour, Howie labored in a sweatshop, steaming yearn at a knitting factory.  No job was beneath him.

He woke with some regularity in the middle of the night, the pain of poverty pressing like a steel blade against his heart.  It wasn’t the dream itself that woke him, but the awareness of waking into a grim reality.

During his youth Howie felt ashamed of his family’s working poor status.   But however much he tried to deny them, those early childhood memories were imprinted indelibly in his mind.   He could never forget what it was like to be without.  

Still, the American dream felt attainable thanks his mother’s tenacity.  She herself had barely finished grade school, but her dream was a college education for all of her kids.  With no security blankets, she willed them to overcome adversity.

Sports became his only escape.  Competitive by nature, he channeled that drive into success on his high school’s football, baseball, and basketball teams.  His hard work paid off, earning him a college athletic scholarship.  And in 1975, Howie became the first person in his family to graduate from college; earning a degree in business administration.

Two decades later, Howard (Howie) Schultz would turn coffee drinking into a national pastime.  This maverick marketer took a little-known four-store chain and infused it with an Italian flair for fun and relaxation.  There may be dozens of imitators, yet none has ever matched the popularity of Starbucks.

Everyone wants to be the top dog, the big cheese, the head honcho.  But to get to the top, you gotta start at the bottom.  It all begins with serving others - by walking in their shoes, by understanding their suffering and by providing a ray of hope for a more prosperous future.

Lord Jesus, Lord, may each step I take leave a reflection of Your glory, an imprint of Your love, a fragrance of Your presence.  Extend through me Your mercies and may my attitudes be a mirror of Your heart.  Amen

Paulo's Dream

“Children come to me,” Jesus said.  God’s kingdom belongs to you.” ~ Matthew 19:14

Despite his age, Paulo is not a child anymore; he grew up many years ago.  The child is no more than nine, willowy and gaunt, his eyes older than his years.

The son of an unemployed, alcoholic father, Paulo and his five siblings have to earn money for the family to live.  If they don’t bring home enough money, their father beats them – hard.  His only chance is to stay alive until he's big enough to be on the other end of the whoopin’.

He wakes each day at 5:30 and takes the bus nearly two hours to the textile factory where he and his sister Magena toil 7 days a week at dirty, dangerous work.  He earns about $4 per day for 11 hours of work. 

Globalization is a key factor to child labor.  Children like Paulo are cheap to employ; they’re docile and easily controlled, and don’t organize to defend their human rights.  Kids are simply tools to be exploited without consequences; an attractive incentive to keep labor costs down.

Although Paulo likes his job and he has lots of friends in the factory, he doesn’t choose to work.  He’d rather be in school studying to be a teacher someday.

Cut flowers remind him of his life – no roots; nothing to anchor it to this world.  But it’s still expected to give its beauty, to flourish and warm the hearts of others.

He dreams of being a Dad himself one day; hoping to be everything his wasn’t and give what he didn’t - security and love.  Paulo prays to God for strength to help funnel the love He gives so unconditionally to Paulo’s own children one day.

No-one can see his vulnerability; the biggest problem that threatens his future.  Paulo is slowly going blind.  If he doesn't have surgery to correct the problem, he’ll be unable to see by the time he is twenty years old.

He tries to hide a little of his weekly earnings to go to school.  But in his heart, he really wants to save so that he can have surgery.

Kids like Paulo (over 125 million worldwide), will never learn to read or write or acquire computer skills.  They’ll not experience singing in chorus, going on field trips, or playing at recess.  Their classrooms are sweatshops, farm fields, and battlefields.  Their days will be filled with long, dirty, dangerous work.  The only lesson they’ll learn . . . is that life is cruel and unfair.

If the world spent about $10 billion a year - far less than what we now spend each year on luxury items such as makeup, perfumes and cruises - every child on earth could receive free primary education.  Please keep them in your prayers this Labor Day weekend.

Lord Jesus, we ask Your protection for children who are vulnerable to traffickers, and for those caught in abusive conditions.  Please encourage world leaders to make "universal primary education" a reality for all children worldwide.  Amen