Face to Facebook

I joined Facebook last fall for the sole purpose of promoting my new book, But the Greatest of These is Love. I had resisted earlier suggestions to join because I know myself well enough to know that I might spend too much time checking out the lives of my friends, acquaintances, friends of friends, etc. I have indeed had fun connecting with friends and reconnecting with friends who I last knew when we were literally kids.

At first I  timidly garnered enough courage to "like" someone's status. Then I inched out into new territory and posted a comment on someone's status. Still, I was tentative, posting, then immediately deleting, then posting same post again. Who cares what I think?, I would ask myself.  But I am over that now! Nobody cares what I think, but it doesn't matter!  That is not part of the rules. We just care about those little red numbers tallying our "likes" and comments.indicating that we are special.

And it isn't just Facebook. It is Twitter, online video games, instagram, constant texting, even when it seems rude. Technology! The savior and downfall of civilization. Finding and dissemination information has never been easier. I have discovered that I love to research, now that the capability is at my fingertips! The capacity for quick information may often be helpful," but as Einstein said, "information is not knowledge."

I've had to learn a whole new language with all initials, "new speak" I call it, reminiscent of George Orwell's 1984, where the totalitarian state reduced language to simplistic terms to limit free thought. (Watch for that blog that is ruminating as I write this one.) I had to learn "lol" did not mean "lots of love" as I was tempted to post to convey my compassion, when "laugh out loud" would have been grossly insensitive! There are several other letter combinations I haven't figured out, so I dare not use them!

I am over my early trepidation, and now I am confidently posting all the time, "all" being the operative word here. I am becoming a Facebook junkie. Now when I post something, I am eagerly awaiting someone to "like" or comment on my status. I have to step back. Sometimes after an out-of-control session lasting too long, I feel icky. Hours of my life gone for nothing. Has anyone else experienced this? I had to turn the "chat" feature off—I envisioned all the names scrolling down,  people liking, and becoming friends with, and commenting, sitting in front of the new idiot box in an alternate universe, along with me, instead of talking face to face with a flesh-and-blood friend. How alien this concept would have been only a decade ago, except to Rod Serling/Twilight Zone aficionados.

The Twilight Zone, young ones, was a science-fiction (or, in "new speak," Sci-Fi) television show that

aired on CBS from 1959-1964. Its paranormal, futuristic, and disturbing events inspired a few reoccurring nightmares during my lifetime. It always opened with the creator, Rod Serling stoically inviting, "Imagine if you will . . ."

"Imagine if you will . . . one humanoid posts a "status update" on his hand-held devise, the other, often sitting beside the other, comments on said status update by typing on his own hand-held device. No audible words are spoken between the two . . ."

In all of our "connectedness," we have isolated ourselves. So here we sit, face to Facebook. Welcome to the Twilight Zone.

Unpopular Christian virtues

The last time I mentioned sex in a post was when I compared my book, But the Greatest of These is Love, to the best seller, Fifty Shades of Gray. The two books share quite a few similarities, except maybe the "best seller" part . . . and, the sexual content. I've never read Fifty Shades of Gray, so there might be a few other differences. If you missed Fifty Shades of Red, go back and read it.

In the last couple of weeks, I have witnessed dramatic examples illustrating why illicit, forbidden, casual, uncommitted, recreational sex is not a great idea, regardless of what at least one participant was thinking at the time. Rarely does either party say, "this one act could adversely alter the course of my life, it might cause me to go to jail, lose my job, devastate my family, lose the trust of my spouse, BUT, it is going to be SO worth it!" No sex is that good. Some may disagree. 

At the risk of sounding like a prude, I will continue. My 18 year-old-son reminds me daily that we live in the 21st Century and none of this pertains to modern times. But I am curious why the obsessive distraction, often to our ruin, about the mysterious enigma of sex. 

We live in a culture where we are led to believe that sexual freedom is a birthright. Why else would people in authority insist that girls of any age have access to the "morning after" pill without parental consent, when that same child would be denied an aspirin at school without her parent's permission. The age of  consent in the U.S. is 16 in most states. In some countries it is as young as 12. To view "Mature" rated movies, one must be 17.  By that time, the horse is usually out of the barn, so to speak! 

 A hundred years ago, coming out of the long Victorian Era,  Sigmund Freud was concluding and teaching that sexual repression was the major psychological problem of mankind, and the indirect cause of much of Western society's woes, illnesses, and crime. Those Victorians were to blame, for being a prudish and uptight bunch!

The Victorian era, the reign of Queen Victoria (1837-1901), is considered by historians to be a period of peace and prosperity, refined sensibilities, and national confidence in Britain. (I consider it a period of beautiful architecture and furniture, since that is about all that remains from that period!) A recent Discovery.com article suggested that people from the Victorian era, which was marked by "an explosion of innovation and genius," had higher I.Q.s than people today. Interesting. So, are we getting dumber? (one mind-numbing episode of most prime-time TV should provide evidence!)

"Chastity is the most unpopular of the Christian virtues," writes C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity. Mere Christianity was adapted from a series of radio talks on the BBC during World War II, much like Roosevelt's Fireside Chats in this country, meant to sooth an anxious populous. 

Today, Christians' chastity, or lack of, virtually mirrors that of the world's, even though Christians are called to sexual purity. Even Saint Augustine, fourth century church father confessed that, as a young man, he prayed constantly for chastity, but while his lips were saying "Lord make me chaste," his heart was adding, "but please don't do it just yet."

I am remembering the messes in our families, communities, and government that promiscuity has caused that sexual purity, or self-control, chastity, temperance–words we don't often use anymore–would have prevented. Gone are the days when we hold self control and delayed gratification, or "refinement" of any kind to a high ideal. We have now achieved Freud's goal, complete sexual freedom. We now have cozy terms like "friends with benefits" describing mutually satisfying sexual relationships that don't involve, well, relationship. We seem to be devolving. 

Today we are free of sexual repression, and for that matter most "repression," in any area of life. Has that reversal improved our race? We have one of the highest teen pregnancy rate in the western, industrialized world, pedophilia, abortion as birth control, high divorce rate, children growing up without fathers, orphans, a growing prison population, rampant STDs, high suicide rates, high numbers medicated for depression. We teach the young people in health class to "wait until they are ready for sex." Ask most teens who think they are in love (which is often, with many) if they are ready. They are ready!


C.S Lewis opined, "the sexual appetite, like our other appetites, grows by indulgence . . . Perversions of the food appetite are rare. But perversions of the sex instinct are numerous, hard to cure, and frightful." 

I wonder what Freud would think today if he studied the cause of society's woes, illnesses, and crime. It certainly isn't repressed sexuality!

"Virtue," (another word we rarely use anymore) "–even attempted virtue–brings light; indulgence brings fog."  C.S. Lewis

Celebrating mediocrity

I have served (as in "mission field" sense) as a high school substitute teacher the past thirteen years. As an observer of people, I have an abundance of blog topics supplied on any given day. A recent lesson plan began, "These are all excellent students . . . They will be taking a test . . .  Watch closely for cheating."  Excellent students will cheat? Really? Why do we call them "excellent"?  

In Screwtape Proposes a Toast, C.S. Lewis wrote, "What I want to fix your attention on is the vast overall movement towards the discrediting, and finally the elimination, of every kind of human excellence—moral, cultural, social or intellectual . . . 'Democracy' . . .  is now doing for us the work that was once done by the most ancient dictatorships and by the same methods. The basic proposal of the new education is to be that dunces and idlers must not be made to feel inferior to intelligent and industrious pupils . . . All incentives to learn and all penalties for not learning will vanish . . . the teachers—or should I say nurses?—will be far too busy reassuring the dunces and patting them on the back to waste any time on real teaching. We shall no longer have to plan and toil to spread imperturbable conceit and incurable ignorance among men."

These chilling, prophetic words were first published in the Saturday Evening Post in 1959. The essay was an indictment against certain trends in public education. The short essay is often included as an addendum to Lewis' The Screwtape Letters, first published in 1942. That popular book takes the form of a series of letters from "Screwtape," a senior Demon, to his nephew "Wormwood," a tempter-in-training, learning the methods of securing the damnation of man, referred to only as "the Patient." In the upside down world of Screwtape and Wormwood, the goal is to guide the Patient toward "Our Father Below" (Devil/Satan) and away from "the Enemy" (God). 

The "self-esteem" movement has been tracked back to the 1960's. (It probably was conceived as early as the Enlightenment and the philosophy of Rousseau, but that is another very interesting story for another day.) The modern movement hit full speed in the 1980's. Experts in education reasoned that if we, parents and teachers, made children feel good about themselves, their school achievement and behavior would improve. Teachers would no longer write corrective comments on students' papers for fear of damaging the budding psyches of young students. They would allow the students to "invent" new spellings of words. They would no longer teach them what was right and wrong, but let the students come to their own conclusions. Parents would give their children a voice in all decisions, and explain their motives ("because I said so!" was no longer a valid response) so the autonomous Self of the children could fully develop. And they would no longer give out ribbons to reward excellence, but instead give everyone a certificate of participation, so no one's feelings would be hurt. 

As early as the mid 1990's, there were rumblings that the Self-Esteem movement was not producing the desired affect. Rewarding mediocre work was not only NOT helping the students study skills and behavior, but by inflating their out-of-control egos with unearned, or even false praise, we were creating entitled, self-absorbed, apathetic youth. Even with evidence mounting against the self-esteem initiatives, no change was made to eliminate or modify them.

Let me be perfectly clear here—I sub at a public high school because I love the students. We adults are the ones who have created this alternate universe; the kids are just trying to survive in it! And many are having a difficult time maneuvering through the fog. Suicide is rampant among teens. In my 13 years as a sub, at least TEN students or former students have taken their own lives.  

The dad in the 2004 children's movie, The Incredibles, classically lamented, "They keep inventing ways to celebrate mediocrity." Research that same year exposed, contrary to expectations, that higher self-esteem was not linked to better learning or better behavior. An international math test found that although American students ranked low on skills, they ranked number one in believing their were good at math. They were also most likely to report receiving good grades in math. But inflated grades are necessary in order to match inflated egos. Today's B was yesterday's C. 

One educator opined that we have taught them to think so highly of themselves, they hardly think of anyone else. They are becoming unteachable, so certain are they of their own worth and correctness.  

Self esteem for hard work and accomplishments is a powerful motivator. But praise for the sake of praise doesn't make any sense. The kids are smart enough to get it! No one values a "certificate of participation."

Praise, like money, doesn't mean much to us humans unless it is earned. 

Love your neighbor

If you read my book, But the Greatest of These is Love, (if you haven't, you should!) you know that I fell in love with the Russian people while we were on our journey to bring our youngest son home from Russian. They are warm, loving, and generous people. When I saw the  following video, I was not surprised by the kindness I saw expressed in a "love your neighbor as yourself" sort of way. 

Apparently many Russian drivers have video cameras attached to their dashboards called "dashcams." Because the country has an epidemic of insurance fraud, like our own, drivers need proof of their innocence. Sure, there were many strange accidents and pedestrians throwing themselves into the paths of cars, faking injury that were cut from this heartwarming compilation. But many acts of kindness were surprisingly caught on tape. (Maybe I am surprised because so many despicable acts have been caught on camera lately.)

This video is very touching, and the music is beautiful. I am now committed to do an act of kindness every day for the next week that is not in my comfort zone. Maybe it will become a habit. Game on? Imagine such a world!

Did these people act kindly because they knew they were being watched and recorded? It is my firm belief that we are all being Watched. No deed, good or bad, goes unnoticed. Does that fact change the way we behave? I can tell you that I much prefer the personal joy I experience in my  good deeds than the wretched feeling left by my unkind ones. I want my "Video" to play back scenes of me loving my neighbor as myself. 

Now enjoy the video.

Love your enemy?

According to Google maps, I could drive 15 minutes south-east  from Mozdok, N. Ossetia-Alania, (early home of my Russia-born son, Roma) to the border of Chechnya, the homeland of the Boston Marathon terrorists. North Ossetia-Alania and Chechnya are bordering states. The former is predominately Christian, the latter, 95% Muslim.  Had Roma been born on the other side of that thin, invisible line, he might have been born and raised an adherent of Islam, and taught in the same manner as the marathon bombers. It almost seems an "accident" of birth to be born on the "wrong" side. I'm sure God sees it differently. 

Maybe because I have worked at a high school for 13 years, my reaction to the Boston Marathon terrorists is profound sadness. I am in no way minimizing the trauma of the victims of the bombing. I am heartsick about the lost lives and limbs, and lives forever altered.  I also listened to reports of prom groups including the "terrorist," his typical high school life, shocked teachers, and family photos of the 19-year-old in their homes.  By all estimations, the younger terrorist was an intelligent, "normal," "likable" kid, like so many I have known at my high school. What went so terribly wrong?

I have had many young friends at school over the years who I have often lamented  their lot in life. If they had grown up in a different home, with different circumstances, they would be so different.  That is true of all of us.  Such is life.  And yes, there is such a thing as "evil," but as Soviet dissident Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn recognized, "If only it were so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them.  But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being."

Has our "America is great," fist-pumping reaction to killing/capturing the terrorists fueled more animosity, or brought us closer to peace? I imagine that scene playing out on a small scale, at the N.O.A–Chechnya border.  What if, instead of a show of defiance against hostility, the Christian residents in N.O.A.(or fill-in-the-blank) continued to lovingly serve their neighbors in Chechnya (or fill-in-the-blank). Would, at some  point, those being loved stop lobbing bombs back over the border?  Sure, one cannot negotiate with terrorists. Jesus didn't ask us to negotiate with them. He commanded us to love them! "Love your enemy, pray for those who persecute you."

Did Jesus know what he was asking is humanly impossible? We need Divine help.

I have seen posts on the internet that do not dignify the victims, nor edify Christ. We act like we are on two opposing teams, "evil" verses us, and we'll do whatever it takes to "win." Do I believe that God loves Dzhokhar Tsarnaev as much as He loves me? As hard as that is to fathom (for I am pretty lovable!), I suppose it is true, otherwise, how can He be God?

I believe Jesus' command is possible, and practical. German philosopher, Hegel, said, "We learn from history that we do not learn from history." The continuation and escalation of wars since his death 180 years ago certainly proves his point. The human race continues to enjoys its hatred, and we keep forgetting where our hatred leads us.

Freedom of (informed) choice

Roe versus Wade "celebrates" its fortieth anniversary this year. 

My kind and gentle daughter, Kellie, was spat upon a couple of weeks ago while she and other committed pro-lifers prayed silently in front of an abortion clinic in Pittsburgh, PA. Why are these silent, though visible, warriors seen as a threat? And where does such hatred come from? Abortion was once, to some, a impassioned impulse to help . . .

Bernard Nathanson was a compassionate young doctor who began his residency in an obstetric and gynecologic clinic in New York in the 1950s.  He attended hundreds of emergencies resulting from self-inflicted abortions and those performed by backstreet butchers.  The use of crude and unsanitary tools often left patients infected and hemorrhaging, and sometimes sterile, or dead.  Usually poor women fared far worse than affluent women who could pay for better “treatment.”  

Driven  by his desire for social equality, he cofounded the National Association for the Repeal of Abortion Laws, now known as the National Abortion Rights Action League, or NARAL.  In 1970, when New York relaxed its abortion laws, Nathanson opened the nation’s largest abortion clinic where he claims to have performed over 40,000 abortions, including two on mistresses whom he himself had impregnated.

After his efforts to legalize abortion on demand were rewarded in 1973 with Roe versus Wade, Nathanson accepted a new job in obstetrical services, although he continued to perform abortions. A dazzling new innovation, ultrasound technology, had suddenly made this field very exciting.  Doctors, for the first time ever, had a "window" into the uterus to observe the developing fetus. Nathanson was shocked by what he saw.  He could observe the intricate structure of the skeleton and the pumping heart, which can be detected as early as the eighteenth day after conception.  Even fingers and toes were visible.  All anatomical parts are present after only twelve weeks.  This new knowledge changed Dr. Nathanson. 

In a 1974 article for the New England Journal of Medicine, he wrote that in abortion “we are taking life,” and “the deliberate taking of life, even of a special order and under special circumstances, is an inexpressibly serious matter.”  He wasn’t suggesting an end to abortion, only that physicians “must work together to create a moral climate rich enough to provide for abortion, but sensitive enough to life to accommodate a profound sense of loss.”The article alienated his NARAL colleagues and sparked impassioned controversy.   One consequence he had not anticipated was invitations to speak at pro-life rallies.  Dr. Nathanson accepted, though he was clear that his opposition to abortion was based on science and not on any religious conviction; he, in fact, considered himself a “Jewish atheist.”  In his first book, Aborting America, published in 1979, he was critical, at that time, of the pro-lifers’ flawed religious point of view.  That year he stopped performing abortions.  His work with abortion had begun as a noble idea to help the poor.  The ultrasound technology had shed light on an even more helpless victim: the unborn. 

Nathanson had an epiphany about using the ultrasound equipment to illustrate his new conviction.   With permission from patients, he asked a colleague to record abortion procedures.  Even though he knew what happened during an abortion, what he saw on the screen repulsed him.  He saw babies being torn apart, tiny bodies trying in vain to scoot away from the probing, sucking tube intent on vacuuming them out of their safe sanctuary.  One twelve-week fetus, even after being mortally wounded, continued to thrash about, heart racing,  in obvious distress, opening its mouth in what could be best described as a scream of pain and fear. 

Believing the video’s message was essential, Nathanson released “The Silent Scream” in 1985.   About this time, Dr. Nathanson began his struggle with sleepless nights, depression, and guilt over his part of the mass slaughter of innocent babies.  He contemplated suicide more than once.  He read self-help books and sought counseling.    He could find no peace. After years of suffering and seeking, he found his absolution in a conversion to Christianity beginning in 1989. In a similar development, Norma McCorvey, better known as Jane Roe, the lead plaintiff of Roe v Wade fame, also had a dramatic Christian conversion in 1995. She regrets her role in the landmark case and is also now an outspoken pro-life advocate. 

Abortion on demand has been legal in this country for forty years. Even if it were repealed, abortions would not cease.  But the cavalier attitude toward abortion “rights” has dulled the moral conscience for what used to be a heart-wrenching decision made with agonizing resignation. Joycelyn Elders, Surgeon General in the Clinton Administration, said that abortion has “an important and positive public health effect.”  Never mind the women who suffer after the fact because they were ill-informed or ignorant of the negative physical and emotional consequences of abortion. Elders also said, "As a Christian, as an individual, as a doctor, I am absolutely opposed the the death penalty." 

Why does the  pro-choice camp fight even modest limits to their “right” to choose, for example, parental notification in the case of minors, optional sonograms before abortions, or even praying pro-lifers outside clinics?  Because they understand that abortion is about more than abortion.  It is a clash of worldviews: God and the sanctity of life versus the individual’s moral autonomy which is repulsed by any challenge to their personal "rights." 

Is abortion simply a matter of removing an unwanted blob of tissue, like a tumor or a wart, or is abortion the act of killing a human being with unique potential of personal and physical traits that cannot be replicated?  “Terminating a pregnancy” and even “abortion” can be vague, innocuous language, compared to “the deliberate taking of life” as Dr. Nathanson put it. It is deceitful and manipulative to call abortion anything but what it is. 

Let’s be honest, so pro-choice women can at least make an informed choice. 

Help from the Motherland

There was a spike in my blog's pageviews yesterday. When I checked my "audience," I was excited to learn a large percentage of my readership came from RUSSIA. Twenty one views from Russia! Being the techno ignoramus that I am, I am baffled at this new development. Perhaps because the profits from But the Greatest of These is Love go to Orphan Care Resources, my blog has had exposure in Russia.

So I started thinking . . .

My son, Roma, was born in 1994. We adopted him from Russia in 2002, at age seven. Before we left for Russia in April, 2002, we sought information about possible siblings. We had heard stories of families traveling to adopt one child, only to discover the existence of siblings. We wanted no surprises. We were not opposed to adopting a sibling group, but we wanted time to adjust to the idea.

We learned that Roma did indeed have siblings, a younger brother, Rostislav, and older sister, Lianna, born in 1999 and in 1984, respectively. The paper trail on little "Roostic" as Roma called him, disappeared when Roma entered the Mozdok Home for Children in 2000. We learned that Lianna was not available for adoption because of her age. She was almost eighteen.

As Roma learned to communicate in English, he would share stories of  Roostic and Lianna. Roma only remembered Roostic as a baby. He had more tender memories of Lianna. She would visit him in the orphanage and bring the little sweet-toothed boy (that much hasn't changed!) gifts of candy. Roma said that Lianna came one day crying and told him that Roostic was lost to them. I have hopefully guessed that perhaps Roostic was adopted, since he was a desirable baby at the time the children were removed from their family. We learned after we returned to the U.S. that Roma's doting sister could have been awarded custody of Roma if we had waited another month until she reached her 18th birthday. We were pushed through the process at an unusual speed. We completed our paperwork the end of January and left for Russia on April 22. We joked at the time that rules were being bent  to get our little dictator out of the country before he took over leadership! Is it possible that the paperwork was rushed through before Lianna hit her age of adulthood? I guess we will never know. I have always worried and prayed for Lianna. And for Roostic. Once, at a large reunion of adoptive families I spotted a boy younger than Roma that had his same spark, and resembled him, but Bruce assured me that boy was too old to be Roostic.

If I have readers in Russia, perhaps they know Lianna. And maybe a U.S. family adopted Roostic and lives close enough to visit.

Here is what I know of my son's family history. Last name: Sudzhashvili, father, Igor. They lived in North Ossetia, near the Caucasus Mountains. Lianna's birthday is May 31, 1984. Rostislav was born in December, 1999.

It might be a long shot to ask for help, but stranger things have happened!