Questing Parson

Thankful for Mysteries Solved

The season for counting our blessings has arrived. It's good this time of year rolls around. Truth is, we don't count those blessings and we don't give thanks for them without this annual time set apart. The shame of it is we have more to be thankful for in these present days than any time before.

Gracious how the world has changed in the last twenty-five years. My daddy would never believe it.

The other night I was traveling down the highway, just enjoying the journey, not in too much of a hurry to get to my destination. But I was hungry. I didn't really know where I was; I mean I knew I was between here and there and would soon arrive at there if I remained on this particular highway. But I didn't know where I was in terms of relieving the hunger pangs now wrestling in my stomach. No problem in this day and age.

I pulled out my smart phone, held the menu button down then said aloud, “Food.” Within a few seconds the phone spoke to me, “I found fifteen restaurants; thirteen of them are fairly close to you.” Glancing down at the phone, I touched the name of one of those restaurants. A map to the establishment appeared on the screen. So in this season I'm giving thanks I can always know how to get where I need to be.

Speaking of that phone, I called my grandson in Connecticut the other evening. He's a few months short of being five. After speaking to my son for a few moments he then called the grandchild, informing him I was on the phone. The grandson took the phone, looked at the screen and said, “He must have hung up.” Most of the time when I talk with him and his brother we do it via a video call. When he didn't see my face he assumed I wasn't there any longer. I'm giving thanks today that my grandchildren, even when we live a thousand miles apart, still know what I look like.

I'm thankful today the rising generation is not wasting their lives away on video games. They may be playing them non-stop, but they're not wasting their lives. Ever heard of Adrien Treville? He, a university professor, was frustrated at the slow place of solving some of the mysteries of AIDS and HIV. The university computers had been working on the problem for years with no positive results. He put the problem online in a video game format. Within days 300,000 kids were working on the mystery. It has something to do with the way protein molecules are folded. One of the top players was a ninth grader named Michael Tate. He and other players solved the molecule mystery within three weeks. Look at the power of this technology, not just a few scientists working on the problem but hundreds of thousands of kids.

I'm thankful for this age where, wearable, external robotic skeletons are making it possible for paraplegics to walk, where we are finding ways to control machines with our minds, and where I can watch, live, my grand kids in another city or state perform in their dance recital.

And I'm so very thankful it will be the ethics and values my generation teaches that will allow them to use this new technology for the common good and the betterment of all humankind.

We Were Deprived

“So,” said the four-and-a-half year-old granddaughter, as we sat side by side on the sofa watching the flat screen TV on which the cartoon figures darted about in high definition playful animation, “what was your favorite program when you were my age?”

“Actually, when I was your age we didn't have a television,” I replied with a smile.

She turned from the television and looked at me as small wrinkles of concern accented her forehead. “Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't know your family was so poor.”

“Oh, no, honey,” I assured her. “It wasn't that we were poor; now we weren't rich but we weren't poor. It's just that when I was your age people didn't have television.”

Now the small wrinkles of concern deepened into crevasses of consternation. “People didn't have television?” She shifted on the sofa to face me, the cartoon figures now less important that when she'd invited me to watch her favorite show. “Why didn't people have television?”

“Well, television wasn't available for people in their homes back then. A scientist had invented it, but they didn't know how to make it so it could be sold for people to have it in their homes.”

The lines on her forehead doubled. She moved to her knees, wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. Quietly she said into my ear, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay,” I said as I patted her back. “There were a lot of things we didn't have back then.”

She moved back to a kneeling position while her left hand remained on my right shoulder and the wrinkles remained on her forehead. There was concern in her voice as she said, “What else didn't you have?”

I thought a second then reached into my pocket and took out my smart phone. “We didn't have cell phones.”

There was a full thirty seconds of silence. It was obvious she was trying to process this electrifying piece of information. “How did you talk to people who were not in your house?”

“Oh, we had phones but they weren't like this. They were connected to a wire that came out of the wall of the house. And that wire went to a wire outside. You know those poles that go down your street?” She nodded. “Well, they call those telephone poles because one of those wires on the pole connected everybody together. So when you talked on the phone in the house your voice when through the wire to the house of the people you were calling.”

Removing her hand from my shoulder and folded her arms across her chest. “Are you teasing me?” I shook my head. She stared at the floor. The program on the television was changing. Now two different cartoon figures were having a conversation on the screen. “You talked on a phone that was hooked to the wall by a wire?”

“That's right.”

“So, how did you talk to people when you were outside or maybe in the car or maybe at the ballgame?”

“We didn't. The phone was in the house.”

She turned back to the television. For five minutes I was irrelevant. Then she turned to me and said, “Computers?”

“We didn't have computers.”

Patting my leg affectionately, she whispered, “Bless your heart.”

Avoiding the Battle

The parson wasn't sure how the impromptu affair got started. One minute he was sitting in his favorite diner reading his Kindle while he wolfed down a cholesterol laden breakfast. It was his own fault. He should have left after the second cup of coffee, but, no, he had to order another to give himself justification for finishing reading a few more pages of Merrill Markoe's delightful book, “Cool, Calm & Contentious.”

Before those few more pages were completed, however, there were several of the local brethren gathered about the parson's table. And then before he could elicit any control over the event another table had been pulled up and now there were eleven of the local clerics gathered around. Now, this wouldn't have been all that bad, after all the parson could digest gossip with the best of them, but today their agenda seemed to be a bit convoluted.

“Listen,” said Brother Harmon Chester, “I don't care what they say, they are messing with the eternal. They are asking for the wrath of the Almighty God.”

The parson sat up in his chair. He was one, of course, who was interested in things brought about by the Almighty God.”

“I read about it in the paper,” Brother Harmon continued. “They are thinking they can find what they call “The God Particle.” Can you believe that? The God particle. I mean, glory! How can anyone be so stupid as to think they can use their microscopes and scientific devices to discover God. It's ridiculous.”

“I know what you mean,” intoned Oliver P. Gaston. “This world is too caught up in the scientific theories put forth by people with a liberal political and theological agenda. Next thing you know, they'll be saying they have God in a test tube.”

The parson pushed his chair away from the table. “You fellows will have to excuse me. I've just realized I need to be doing something. Good to see you all.”

The parson excused himself, walked to the counter and gave Susie, the server, the money for his tab and her tip. He turned to walk to his car when Ed Silvers, a young assistant pastor at the Presbyterian Church joined him.

Halfway to the car, Ed said, “You didn't have anything to say back there, Parson. Why didn't you tell them what the God particle is actually about?”

The parson studied Ed a moment, opened the door to his car, and replied, “You know, Ed, long ago I discovered it's self-defeating to get into a battle of wits with unarmed people.”

Am I Just Being Cynical?

So, in the interest of full disclosure, let me begin by saying I’m one of those weird parsons who believes God did not dictate the last verse of the last chapter of the Book of Revelation and then close the book and for the last, give or take, two thousand years has had nothing else to say. I fully believe that God intends for us to explore the amazing mysteries of God’s universe and use them for the benefit of God’s creation. As such, I’m just slap dab in favor of scientific research that enables humankind to evolve into the creation God intended.

With that background, it was with interest I read the following opening sentences on The Huffington Post, titled “Obama Administration Stem Cell Regulations Temporarily Blocked” by Pete Yost:

WASHINGTON – A federal judge Monday temporarily blocked government rules expanding stem cell research, a blow to the Obama administration that could stall potentially lifesaving research.

The nonprofit Nightlight Christian Adoptions contends that the government’s new guidelines will decrease the number of human embryos available for adoption and implantation.

For some reason I felt compelled to go to the Nightlight Christian Adoptions website. Once there I quickly found this statement:  “In general, the cost of an agency adoption through Nightlight will be approximately $18,000.”

Are there any dots here crying out to be connected? Or am I just a cynical old parson?