Earlier this semester, as I was teaching my Ethics students about the nature of God, his covenantal actions, and introducing the concept of Christian ethics, I wanted us all to pick our brains about the relationship or lack thereof between God's existence and morality. Keep in mind, I'm using morality as "the categorizing of actions, thoughts, and words into right/wrong and good/bad and noble/evil delineations."
I forced the following writing prompt on them, knowing full well that they, like me, could take it in many directions: "Answer one of the following questions: (A) You need God for morality because.... or (B) You don't need God for morality because..."
And here's my free-write response:
Absolutely you can say "You don't need God for morality", for the simple reason that there are plenty of moral people who are completely secular, atheistic, or agnostic. You do not need to believe in the existence of God in order to categorize between right and wrong. We can't help but put actions and ideas into either barrel (or a neutral one, as well); it's part of human nature, or what C.S. Lewis noted as the Law of Human Nature. But this question itself is loaded as a cheap hotel is with roaches and crickets, and it is more complex than seven-layer dip or my wife's delicious lasagna. There is something innate within us that places items, events, speech, actions, and thoughts in good or evil slots, wise or foolish patterns, and so on, whether or not one believes in the existence of a Creator or Divine Providence. We all have morality. But that automatically leads to a follow-up question. If God's existence and morality are separate issues (a baseline theorem of secularism), then how do we say we know what is right and wrong? That is, after all, the whole question of ethics as a pursuit distinct from "morality".
One might say, "Well, we don't do anything that would harm someone else!" No question that is, by and large, a noble idea. Yet one could say, "But why is that important? Do you mean comfort, health, and safety as good and physical harm and mental torture as bad? If so, why do we elevate one category over the other? Could one person's pleasure be another's pain?" The moment we turn these ideas into universals, we have to explain why they are universals.
Again, one might counter that with, "We avoid doing harm to others because pain feels bad." And still that begs the immediate question, "To whom?", before turning to the larger question of "Why do we trust these feelings?" It begs an answer.
Suppose someone says, "We can see from experience that things work better for society if we do X instead of Y." Yes, experience can be a guide, but we also have to recall that slavery, sacrificing virgins to appease the gods, and Communism have all been viewed as positive notions for the greater good before, all part of the warp and woof of societal 'experience' before.
The point is this: I think when you pursue this line of thinking with more questions, we discover that whatever the standard is for right and wrong, it exists independently of us. When a person blurts out, "That's not fair!", then fair to whom? And why? How do you know that? You're appealing to a standard outside of yourself by which all actions are judged, a law of human nature.
Something can't come from nothing here. Principles don't belch forth from the dark void. The law of human nature has to have a standard that's independent of us.
And what if...what if...that law of human nature was beyond a law, but rather a Lawgiver who created humans in his nature?
Can you believe in morality without God? Yes!
But can you justify and explain morality while explaining him away?
Just asking...let the conversation continue.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Eighteen Years
Eighteen years ago today, I was driving through the streets of Lafayette, Louisiana. My exams were dropped off safely at a colleague's house for transport to school so my students could take them on time. I was otherwise occupied. My very pregnant wife needed to get to the hospital.
Today was the day.
As we drove to Lafayette General Medical Center, I couldn't shake the weight of responsibility that hit me with all the subtlety of Donald Trump on cocaine. I was going to be a father by the end of the day.
"God, please help me. I am going to have a son and I feel so unready."
The following fifteen hours were a complete blur, although I have a vague memory of watching a Dutch soccer game on ESPN2 while my wife drifted off into a semi-drugged sleep before my parents arrived from Mississippi. More blurred moments, and then at 10:18 pm CST on December 15, 1997, Joshua Cameron Davis, all six pounds, eleven ounces of him, was born via C-section.
That's when life hit us between the eyes and never let up. Joshua was crying to get air in his lungs. He cried. Soundlessly. No noise. All he could manage was a barely audible squeak. His arms flopped from his sides like hung bratwurst in a German butcher shop. Something was unexpected.
I didn't say wrong. I said unexpected.
And that's how--by the grace of God--Christy and I went forward. We had a physically disabled son whose DNA went through a genetic wringer and caused him to have a rare neuromuscular disorder. Many things have gone on in that journey and much has changed. That little peanut of a kid now shaves, he desires to be a soccer player or sports announcer, and he loves to read James Bond novels and watch Doctor Who and Sherlock.
Joshua is also a young man who had to come to grips early on about his disability. He figured out early on he could never run. He has seen what was an ability to walk gingerly disappear into a wheelchair-bound view of life.
And never, not once, do I recall him complaining. And this is a kid who nearly died after spinal surgery in Miami. He wondered why it all was happening, but he managed to take it in stride in his own way.
What am I most proud of regarding Joshua? He accepts what life has thrown at him, he doesn't complain, and he lives in hope. Perhaps we'll get to the point of a cure for X-linked myotubular myopathy, and he wants to so badly. But for now, a boy who--odds were--could have died before his first birthday is now eligible to vote.
Joshua doesn't quit. He is our son. God is with him.
On this day, what could be better than that?
Today was the day.
As we drove to Lafayette General Medical Center, I couldn't shake the weight of responsibility that hit me with all the subtlety of Donald Trump on cocaine. I was going to be a father by the end of the day.
"God, please help me. I am going to have a son and I feel so unready."
The following fifteen hours were a complete blur, although I have a vague memory of watching a Dutch soccer game on ESPN2 while my wife drifted off into a semi-drugged sleep before my parents arrived from Mississippi. More blurred moments, and then at 10:18 pm CST on December 15, 1997, Joshua Cameron Davis, all six pounds, eleven ounces of him, was born via C-section.
That's when life hit us between the eyes and never let up. Joshua was crying to get air in his lungs. He cried. Soundlessly. No noise. All he could manage was a barely audible squeak. His arms flopped from his sides like hung bratwurst in a German butcher shop. Something was unexpected.
I didn't say wrong. I said unexpected.
And that's how--by the grace of God--Christy and I went forward. We had a physically disabled son whose DNA went through a genetic wringer and caused him to have a rare neuromuscular disorder. Many things have gone on in that journey and much has changed. That little peanut of a kid now shaves, he desires to be a soccer player or sports announcer, and he loves to read James Bond novels and watch Doctor Who and Sherlock.
Joshua is also a young man who had to come to grips early on about his disability. He figured out early on he could never run. He has seen what was an ability to walk gingerly disappear into a wheelchair-bound view of life.
And never, not once, do I recall him complaining. And this is a kid who nearly died after spinal surgery in Miami. He wondered why it all was happening, but he managed to take it in stride in his own way.
What am I most proud of regarding Joshua? He accepts what life has thrown at him, he doesn't complain, and he lives in hope. Perhaps we'll get to the point of a cure for X-linked myotubular myopathy, and he wants to so badly. But for now, a boy who--odds were--could have died before his first birthday is now eligible to vote.
Joshua doesn't quit. He is our son. God is with him.
On this day, what could be better than that?
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Advent Inspired
There are many things we find joyous about the Advent season: family reunions, good food, the end of a school semester (speaking selfishly). But the joy of an anointed Savior entering a broken world alienated from God for the sake of His grace is above and beyond all those trimmings.
That news can bring about inspiration from the oddest angles. This past year, as I was thinking about Advent in advance some months ago, I began thinking along the lines of Christmas carols; specifically, I thought it might be nice to have a new carol in the mix.
Which of course led me to think, Maybe you should do that yourself.
It was around that time I was also thinking through some meditations from former UN Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjold (long story as to why). He had many spiritual musings, but the one that especially resonated with me is the following:
"How appropriate that Christmas should follow Advent. For him who looks to the future, the manger is already situated at Golgotha, and the Cross has already been raised in Bethlehem."
The more I considered that quote, the more I wondered about how to express that cosmic dimension of Christ's birth, how it was the launching moment toward his ministry, death, resurrection, and the restoration of all things. The more I considered that, the more a tune came to mind...that of the Welsh song "The Ash Grove" (sung here by Laura Wright), because...well, I'm Welsh!
Four hours later (with some last-minute touches months later before the final copyright), I had--much to my surprise--done it.
A new carol, with the manger of Bethlehem as the genesis of the turning point of history. A new carol, capturing the birth of, death of, resurrection of, and restoration wrought by the Christ Child of that manger. A new carol where the Cross, empty tomb, and the riven skies of the Apocalypse find their beginning in the manger.
By no means do I claim this will be a classic, but it's an offering of humility tracing the story of Jesus. May that be enough to warm our hearts with Advent hope.
In it's final form..."The Christ Child"
Written by Luke H. Davis (2015)
Tune: The Ash Grove (Welsh melody)
That news can bring about inspiration from the oddest angles. This past year, as I was thinking about Advent in advance some months ago, I began thinking along the lines of Christmas carols; specifically, I thought it might be nice to have a new carol in the mix.
Which of course led me to think, Maybe you should do that yourself.
It was around that time I was also thinking through some meditations from former UN Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjold (long story as to why). He had many spiritual musings, but the one that especially resonated with me is the following:
"How appropriate that Christmas should follow Advent. For him who looks to the future, the manger is already situated at Golgotha, and the Cross has already been raised in Bethlehem."
The more I considered that quote, the more I wondered about how to express that cosmic dimension of Christ's birth, how it was the launching moment toward his ministry, death, resurrection, and the restoration of all things. The more I considered that, the more a tune came to mind...that of the Welsh song "The Ash Grove" (sung here by Laura Wright), because...well, I'm Welsh!
Four hours later (with some last-minute touches months later before the final copyright), I had--much to my surprise--done it.
A new carol, with the manger of Bethlehem as the genesis of the turning point of history. A new carol, capturing the birth of, death of, resurrection of, and restoration wrought by the Christ Child of that manger. A new carol where the Cross, empty tomb, and the riven skies of the Apocalypse find their beginning in the manger.
By no means do I claim this will be a classic, but it's an offering of humility tracing the story of Jesus. May that be enough to warm our hearts with Advent hope.
In it's final form..."The Christ Child"
Written by Luke H. Davis (2015)
Tune: The Ash Grove (Welsh melody)
The
Christ Child has come, the Lord dwelling among us,
The
Savior descending from Heaven’s bright throne.
From
ages long promised, now here in time’s fullness,
Our
King born to claim us redeemed as His own!
The
Christ Child has come! The babe born of a virgin,
He
reigns and ordains since the ages began.
The
manger ensconces this grand Incarnation,
Jesus,
Friend of Sinners, the true Son of Man.
The
Christ Child has come and, obediently living,
He
teaches and heals and to sinners draws nigh.
In
willingness pure and our judgment embracing,
The
Lamb to the slaughter, he goes forth to die.
The
Christ Child has come, the one slain for rebellion,
The
fair Rose of Sharon now crushed to the stem.
The
manger commences our wond’rous redemption:
The
Servant of Suff’ring born in Bethlehem.
The
Christ Child has come! The Great Debt has been canceled,
The
satisfied Father thus shatters the grave—
Now
raised from the death throes unable to hold him,
The
Lion, triumphant and mighty to save.
The
Christ Child has come—Glorious hope he has given,
And
we by His blood shall stand, never condemned!
The
manger leads on toward his great resurrection:
The
Lord’s conqu’ring vict’ry dawns in Bethlehem.
The
Christ Child has come, His shalom never ceasing,
His
children the servants renewing God’s world—
Though
kingdoms oppose Him—His peace still increasing,
His
cov’nant of grace through the ages unfurled.
The
Christ Child has come, all things new He shall fashion;
All
honor and blessing forever to Him!
The
manger, the beacon to all restoration:
Our
journey to glory forged in Bethlehem.
Thursday, November 12, 2015
Writing Prompt 1: Choices or Circumstances?
This year in my Ethics class, I've begun a system of--every other week--having my students write in response to a prompt. They have composition books for the occasion, and so I'll put the prompt on the board, give them fifteen minutes of nonstop, quiet writing time, and then collect the books. I read each one for a completion grade, finding some fascinating details in the way they think.
Because I don't require my students do something I wouldn't do myself, I write along with them and share my thoughts afterward. Thus, I thought, why not do the same here on my blog. So the first question of the year from back in August went as follows:
Which do you believe has had more impact on your life, the situations you find yourself in, or the choices you make? Why do you say that?
My response? Here goes...
Of course, I would like to say choices. That might betray an insane sense of control-freak nature, but there it is. What impacts me? I can say I chose to date and love and marry my wife. I chose the college and grad school I attended. I chose jobs that were offered to me. It seems like a slam dunk. Then again, don't choices arise from the situations we find ourselves in? Do my attitudes about finances, faith, friendship, family, education, sexuality and a host of other items on that pile and beyond--don't they trace back to the fact that I was born in a small northeast Kansas town, that I have moved around the country with some regularity in a white, generally middle-class family headed by a Presbyterian pastor, and that I'm the oldest of three boys? What if I was raised in inner-city Detroit wanting a good life, wanting wealth and upward mobility, but discovering that a poorer family and different schools might have difficulty giving that push? What then? What if I was raised in Communist East Germany from birth through my first nineteen years (when the Berlin Wall would've fallen)? I'd likely have markedly different ideas about faith (maybe atheist), finances (the economy would be regulated and there'd be fewer opportunities for wealth creation) and so on. Maybe a better question is "What is the relation between our choices and the situations we find ourselves in?" I know that Dumbledore told Harry Potter that we are defined by our choices--that makes for a great movie quote. And it's not that those choices are insignificant; it'd be terrible if they weren't. But the flowers of our decisions--my decisions--bloom in a meadow that we don't plant but where we live nonetheless. Maybe the best we can hope for is to enjoy our choices and be bold enough to change the situations we're in that we can make impact in ways we never imagined. You go to school, you learn botany, you plant a tree in your two-acre yard based on that knowledge, and it's an apple tree. And one night during a blustery storm, a pregnant stray dog takes shelter under that tree and apples fallen from that tree sustain her until you discover her the next day. And she gives birth to a litter of puppies which your family can't imagine being without. Something like that. And...ahhhh, fifteen minutes are up!
Because I don't require my students do something I wouldn't do myself, I write along with them and share my thoughts afterward. Thus, I thought, why not do the same here on my blog. So the first question of the year from back in August went as follows:
Which do you believe has had more impact on your life, the situations you find yourself in, or the choices you make? Why do you say that?
My response? Here goes...
Of course, I would like to say choices. That might betray an insane sense of control-freak nature, but there it is. What impacts me? I can say I chose to date and love and marry my wife. I chose the college and grad school I attended. I chose jobs that were offered to me. It seems like a slam dunk. Then again, don't choices arise from the situations we find ourselves in? Do my attitudes about finances, faith, friendship, family, education, sexuality and a host of other items on that pile and beyond--don't they trace back to the fact that I was born in a small northeast Kansas town, that I have moved around the country with some regularity in a white, generally middle-class family headed by a Presbyterian pastor, and that I'm the oldest of three boys? What if I was raised in inner-city Detroit wanting a good life, wanting wealth and upward mobility, but discovering that a poorer family and different schools might have difficulty giving that push? What then? What if I was raised in Communist East Germany from birth through my first nineteen years (when the Berlin Wall would've fallen)? I'd likely have markedly different ideas about faith (maybe atheist), finances (the economy would be regulated and there'd be fewer opportunities for wealth creation) and so on. Maybe a better question is "What is the relation between our choices and the situations we find ourselves in?" I know that Dumbledore told Harry Potter that we are defined by our choices--that makes for a great movie quote. And it's not that those choices are insignificant; it'd be terrible if they weren't. But the flowers of our decisions--my decisions--bloom in a meadow that we don't plant but where we live nonetheless. Maybe the best we can hope for is to enjoy our choices and be bold enough to change the situations we're in that we can make impact in ways we never imagined. You go to school, you learn botany, you plant a tree in your two-acre yard based on that knowledge, and it's an apple tree. And one night during a blustery storm, a pregnant stray dog takes shelter under that tree and apples fallen from that tree sustain her until you discover her the next day. And she gives birth to a litter of puppies which your family can't imagine being without. Something like that. And...ahhhh, fifteen minutes are up!
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
No Little People
I used to coach football...assistant coach at a school in Louisiana. I mentored the offensive linemen. If there's ever a group in a garden-variety football game that gets overlooked, it tends to be offensive linemen. They don't get on the stat sheet. They block for the running backs, protect the quarterback when passing, and...that's about it.
That doesn't mean they're unimportant. They'd better not be, because in my playing days in high school, I was an offensive lineman. [By the way, our football team plays University City in the state quarterfinals this Saturday, and our offensive line is about to show U-City what a significant five-some they really are!]
But that goes beyond the point.
This past Saturday, there was an absolute thriller of a football game in Oxford, Mississippi, as Arkansas toppled Ole Miss, 53-52, in overtime on national TV. It wasn't just the score, or the fact the two teams racked up nearly 1200 yards of offense together. It was the miraculous way Arkansas won.
Ole Miss had scored first in the overtime period, and now Arkansas struggled to move the ball, going in reverse to where they had a fourth-down-and-25 yards to go for the first down. Quarterback Brandon Allen dropped back for the Razorbacks' final desperation play and heaved the ball cross-field to wide receiver Hunter Henry, who gathered in the ball at the Rebels' 25-yard line, well short of the first down. Henry was creamed by the Rebels' defensive back and was going down for the game's clinching tackle and an Ole Miss victory when he heaved the ball backwards in desperation, hoping against hope this was not it when...
Now here I should interrupt things and let you know that something happened on September 20, 1994, which was a major event in the process of Ole Miss losing this game.
Dan Skipper was born.
Despite the fact I've titled this post "No Little People", that is meant to communicate there are no insignificant people.
Dan Skipper is not little. He is 6'10" tall and weighs 331 pounds. But he is an offensive lineman, and that means the eyes of a football crowd are not always on him.
But on September 20, 1994, Dan Skipper was born, setting in motion a chain of events which led to him playing football, which led to getting a scholarship to play football for Arkansas, which led to a starting position at right tackle...
...which led to Dan Skipper playing right tackle in overtime at the time Hunter Henry sent his Bon-Jovi-style-living-on-a-prayer lateral skyward back toward the 41-yard line, where two Ole Miss players could have plucked it out of the air...
Except that Dan Skipper reached out with his paw and barely slapped the ball aside, causing it to bounce sideways off the turf and into the waiting arms of Alex Collins, who found daylight and scampered to the 11-yard line and a first down and new life for Arkansas.
Don't believe me? Watch the replay:
A few plays later, the Razorbacks scored a touchdown. They went for the winning two-point conversion which failed, but a Rebel face-mask penalty gave them new life yet again, and then the winning convert was scored by Brandon Allen.
53-52 was the score. Allen scored the winner. Collins got the yards on the fourth down scamper.
But Dan Skipper--who didn't show up on the stat sheet--made the most important contribution of all. If Skipper doesn't bat that ball to the side, it's all for naught. And yet the announcers never mentioned his name.
Dan Skipper made the difference.
In life, as in football, there are no little people. There are no insignificant souls. Everything we do, say, and try has value, even if no one announces it.
Even you. Especially you.
That doesn't mean they're unimportant. They'd better not be, because in my playing days in high school, I was an offensive lineman. [By the way, our football team plays University City in the state quarterfinals this Saturday, and our offensive line is about to show U-City what a significant five-some they really are!]
But that goes beyond the point.
This past Saturday, there was an absolute thriller of a football game in Oxford, Mississippi, as Arkansas toppled Ole Miss, 53-52, in overtime on national TV. It wasn't just the score, or the fact the two teams racked up nearly 1200 yards of offense together. It was the miraculous way Arkansas won.
Ole Miss had scored first in the overtime period, and now Arkansas struggled to move the ball, going in reverse to where they had a fourth-down-and-25 yards to go for the first down. Quarterback Brandon Allen dropped back for the Razorbacks' final desperation play and heaved the ball cross-field to wide receiver Hunter Henry, who gathered in the ball at the Rebels' 25-yard line, well short of the first down. Henry was creamed by the Rebels' defensive back and was going down for the game's clinching tackle and an Ole Miss victory when he heaved the ball backwards in desperation, hoping against hope this was not it when...
Now here I should interrupt things and let you know that something happened on September 20, 1994, which was a major event in the process of Ole Miss losing this game.
Dan Skipper was born.
Despite the fact I've titled this post "No Little People", that is meant to communicate there are no insignificant people.
Dan Skipper is not little. He is 6'10" tall and weighs 331 pounds. But he is an offensive lineman, and that means the eyes of a football crowd are not always on him.
But on September 20, 1994, Dan Skipper was born, setting in motion a chain of events which led to him playing football, which led to getting a scholarship to play football for Arkansas, which led to a starting position at right tackle...
...which led to Dan Skipper playing right tackle in overtime at the time Hunter Henry sent his Bon-Jovi-style-living-on-a-prayer lateral skyward back toward the 41-yard line, where two Ole Miss players could have plucked it out of the air...
Except that Dan Skipper reached out with his paw and barely slapped the ball aside, causing it to bounce sideways off the turf and into the waiting arms of Alex Collins, who found daylight and scampered to the 11-yard line and a first down and new life for Arkansas.
Don't believe me? Watch the replay:
A few plays later, the Razorbacks scored a touchdown. They went for the winning two-point conversion which failed, but a Rebel face-mask penalty gave them new life yet again, and then the winning convert was scored by Brandon Allen.
53-52 was the score. Allen scored the winner. Collins got the yards on the fourth down scamper.
But Dan Skipper--who didn't show up on the stat sheet--made the most important contribution of all. If Skipper doesn't bat that ball to the side, it's all for naught. And yet the announcers never mentioned his name.
Dan Skipper made the difference.
In life, as in football, there are no little people. There are no insignificant souls. Everything we do, say, and try has value, even if no one announces it.
Even you. Especially you.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
Royal Flush
What a great October.
I am a Cubs fan first and foremost, and it was a sweet year that came out of nowhere. Ninety-seven wins, a whitewashing of the Pirates in the wild-card game, and then curb-stomping the Cardinals in the National League Divisional Series put the Cubs' future trajectory further ahead than I ever imagined. Even a sweep by the Mets in the NLCS couldn't dissolve the joy on the North Side. The heights are so dizzying now, I'm afraid of ESPN jinxing the whole operation with their way-too-early predictions for next year.
But when the dust settled, I had to be proud of the Kansas City Royals. What a team. What a year. And what a city.
I know I run the risk of incurring the wrath of Cardinals fans here in St. Louis, some who still have raw memories of the bottom of the ninth inning in Game 6 of the 1985 World Series. (News flash: GET OVER IT, PEOPLE!) But the Royals entirely deserved the postseason laurels this year.
Interestingly enough, I've been to about seven Royals games in my lifetime. Every time, Kansas City has won. Without exception. Not that they needed me through this postseason.
Our family has had particular interest in the Royals since 2010. We discovered we could go across the state, get a hotel in KC and get four tickets to a Monday night game for a total cost less than going to Busch Stadium to see the Cardinals. So in late June of that year, we took in a 3-1 win over the White Sox on a beautiful night in gorgeous Kaufmann Stadium. The crowd of 13,000 that night loved their team; it was just a shame that they were mired in last place in the American League Central Division at the time. But I was watching the Royals and saw they had a great cache of talent in the minor leagues that was tearing things up. And I thought, If they keep these guys together, there's no telling what can happen.
2014 came and the Royals found themselves in the World Series, where they lost narrowly to the seasoned Giants. That experience paid dividends for this year. In their eleven postseason wins, the Royals came from two runs down seven times. SEVEN TIMES! Plus, that includes ninth-inning rallies in Games One and Five against the Mets. This was the stuff of legend.
It was topped off yesterday by a victory parade and rally that seemed to attract at least a half million folks for the love-in. No fights, no pushiness, no riots. Just a classy service of reciprocal thanks from town to team and vice versa.
It was a celebration that I look forward to happening for the Cubs in a year or so. But this year, Kansas City supremely deserved it. What a team. What a year. What a city. A Blue October it was.
I am a Cubs fan first and foremost, and it was a sweet year that came out of nowhere. Ninety-seven wins, a whitewashing of the Pirates in the wild-card game, and then curb-stomping the Cardinals in the National League Divisional Series put the Cubs' future trajectory further ahead than I ever imagined. Even a sweep by the Mets in the NLCS couldn't dissolve the joy on the North Side. The heights are so dizzying now, I'm afraid of ESPN jinxing the whole operation with their way-too-early predictions for next year.
But when the dust settled, I had to be proud of the Kansas City Royals. What a team. What a year. And what a city.
I know I run the risk of incurring the wrath of Cardinals fans here in St. Louis, some who still have raw memories of the bottom of the ninth inning in Game 6 of the 1985 World Series. (News flash: GET OVER IT, PEOPLE!) But the Royals entirely deserved the postseason laurels this year.
Interestingly enough, I've been to about seven Royals games in my lifetime. Every time, Kansas City has won. Without exception. Not that they needed me through this postseason.
Our family has had particular interest in the Royals since 2010. We discovered we could go across the state, get a hotel in KC and get four tickets to a Monday night game for a total cost less than going to Busch Stadium to see the Cardinals. So in late June of that year, we took in a 3-1 win over the White Sox on a beautiful night in gorgeous Kaufmann Stadium. The crowd of 13,000 that night loved their team; it was just a shame that they were mired in last place in the American League Central Division at the time. But I was watching the Royals and saw they had a great cache of talent in the minor leagues that was tearing things up. And I thought, If they keep these guys together, there's no telling what can happen.
2014 came and the Royals found themselves in the World Series, where they lost narrowly to the seasoned Giants. That experience paid dividends for this year. In their eleven postseason wins, the Royals came from two runs down seven times. SEVEN TIMES! Plus, that includes ninth-inning rallies in Games One and Five against the Mets. This was the stuff of legend.
It was topped off yesterday by a victory parade and rally that seemed to attract at least a half million folks for the love-in. No fights, no pushiness, no riots. Just a classy service of reciprocal thanks from town to team and vice versa.
It was a celebration that I look forward to happening for the Cubs in a year or so. But this year, Kansas City supremely deserved it. What a team. What a year. What a city. A Blue October it was.
Why Read?
I know that I tend to have all the annoyance of a prophet calling in the wilderness, but I'm going John the Baptist one more time.
Various educational reformers and program-tinkerers come out with the latest fashions and plugs to try this or that idea. This is not to criticize said talking heads; some good ideas some from those voices. Nor is this the forum to criticize initiatives like No Child Left Behind or Common Core standards. Other people with more skin in the game than I do can skirmish on that terrain. Nor is this a technology rant. Others can scream out the pros and cons of iPads and other digital devices.
I feel the need to point out that all initiatives in educational reform will fail unless people take it upon themselves to be diligent readers. This is not spellbinding cutting edge stuff. This is common sense thinking.
Reading is the foundation of the house of the educated person. You may never be a voracious reader, but you can be a consistent reader, and you can learn to love reading.
There are many reasons why you should yearn to be a reader, but in case you were wondering if I had a list of benefits at the ready, here are twenty of them in no particular order:
1. It slows down your day and relaxes you.
2. It helps you realize there are other worlds and perspectives than your own.
3. It expands your vocabulary and you can have more descriptive conversations.
4. Reading before going to sleep relaxes you and helps you sleep better. Sleeping better leads to higher quality waking hours.
5. It develops your imagination and provokes you to think about alternative paths and endings to your own stories of life.
6. Reading different varieties of books can offer solutions to everyday challenges.
7. It's productive. Read for thirty minutes a day five days a week and you've read 7800 minutes for a year. That translates to 130 hours of time. Imagine how many books you'd get read in 130 hours!
8. You understand other people's emotions as you encounter characters of other stories, and as a result you become more empathetic in a world that is increasingly less so.
9. Reading improves attention span, concentration, memory, and personal discipline.
10. You are able to assess situations and challenges in a hierarchical manner when you read more. This means you have an increasing ability to figure out what problems are important and what issues are less important, and you can prioritize things more naturally that way.
11. Especially with reading fiction, you realize the world consists of exceptions to the rule, and you can be inspired to solve problems rather than accept limitations.
12. It can challenge your own beliefs, help winnow away error, and strengthen the truth you hold.
13. It improves critical thinking, logic, and deduction skills.
14. It improves your ability to see patterns and to anticipate possibilities.
15. It keeps your mind fresh and rejuvenated.
16. It strengthens your brain.
17. You become a more fluent communicator because you get a better handle not only on what to say but how it sounds.
18. Reading non-fiction can help you grasp practical aspects of life...what to look for in insurance policies, how to build a spice rack, and so forth.
19. It's inexpensive. Did you know you can borrow books for free from the public library?
20. And--from a personal vantage point--reading makes you a better writer and opens up a world where you can love to write. And that means you can create things that others can love to read. And that is a wonderful thought!
Various educational reformers and program-tinkerers come out with the latest fashions and plugs to try this or that idea. This is not to criticize said talking heads; some good ideas some from those voices. Nor is this the forum to criticize initiatives like No Child Left Behind or Common Core standards. Other people with more skin in the game than I do can skirmish on that terrain. Nor is this a technology rant. Others can scream out the pros and cons of iPads and other digital devices.
I feel the need to point out that all initiatives in educational reform will fail unless people take it upon themselves to be diligent readers. This is not spellbinding cutting edge stuff. This is common sense thinking.
Reading is the foundation of the house of the educated person. You may never be a voracious reader, but you can be a consistent reader, and you can learn to love reading.
There are many reasons why you should yearn to be a reader, but in case you were wondering if I had a list of benefits at the ready, here are twenty of them in no particular order:
1. It slows down your day and relaxes you.
2. It helps you realize there are other worlds and perspectives than your own.
3. It expands your vocabulary and you can have more descriptive conversations.
4. Reading before going to sleep relaxes you and helps you sleep better. Sleeping better leads to higher quality waking hours.
5. It develops your imagination and provokes you to think about alternative paths and endings to your own stories of life.
6. Reading different varieties of books can offer solutions to everyday challenges.
7. It's productive. Read for thirty minutes a day five days a week and you've read 7800 minutes for a year. That translates to 130 hours of time. Imagine how many books you'd get read in 130 hours!
8. You understand other people's emotions as you encounter characters of other stories, and as a result you become more empathetic in a world that is increasingly less so.
9. Reading improves attention span, concentration, memory, and personal discipline.
10. You are able to assess situations and challenges in a hierarchical manner when you read more. This means you have an increasing ability to figure out what problems are important and what issues are less important, and you can prioritize things more naturally that way.
11. Especially with reading fiction, you realize the world consists of exceptions to the rule, and you can be inspired to solve problems rather than accept limitations.
12. It can challenge your own beliefs, help winnow away error, and strengthen the truth you hold.
13. It improves critical thinking, logic, and deduction skills.
14. It improves your ability to see patterns and to anticipate possibilities.
15. It keeps your mind fresh and rejuvenated.
16. It strengthens your brain.
17. You become a more fluent communicator because you get a better handle not only on what to say but how it sounds.
18. Reading non-fiction can help you grasp practical aspects of life...what to look for in insurance policies, how to build a spice rack, and so forth.
19. It's inexpensive. Did you know you can borrow books for free from the public library?
20. And--from a personal vantage point--reading makes you a better writer and opens up a world where you can love to write. And that means you can create things that others can love to read. And that is a wonderful thought!
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