Splendid Transformations

From "We're No Angels" (1955)

One of my favorite Christmas movies was out of circulation, or difficult to find, for quite a while.  It was remade in 1989 but failed to inspire or amuse in the way of the 1955 version with Humphrey Bogart.  A favorite line from that 1955 classic is "We'll cut their throats for a Christmas present", Bogie, a convicted forger, remarks laconically. "That might spoil one's belief in Santa Claus." He and his pals, Peter Ustinov and Aldo Ray do no such thing of course.  They soften and somehow are transformed into human angels who save the day for the family that they were going to scam.  This theme of transformation is universally appreciated.

Stories, books and movies about transformation are a hallmark of the holiday season. We are fascinated by the incorrigible criminal who has his heart slowly softened by the people and events that surround him. It is captivating to watch the miserly old recluse become generous and loving. There is nothing funnier or more endearing than the fish-out-of-water finding a place to call home in an environment that had been hostile and unwelcoming. We just love to witness these kinds of changes. They lift us up and give us hope. Perhaps there is something even more compelling.

Rosabeth Moss Kant once said, "A vision is not just a picture of what could be; it is an appeal to our better selves, a call to become something more." It is at the heart of our own journey in life that we would become the ideal person of our dreams. We would love to have a magic wand waved so that our character defects would become opportunities for improvement and then to overcome them in a grand transformation. There might not be a magic wand but there is an illumination to guide us. The love, generosity, kindness and compassion that emerge at Christmas have the power to change us. All we must do is to become willing.

Bringing Glad Tidings

Bob Crachit's Raise from "A Christmas Carol" (1951)

According to the writer of St. Luke's gospel, an angel appears to shepherds at night and said “Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all the people.”  It is difficult to imagine the awe and happiness that they must have experienced.  I watch the 1951 Alastair Sim version of Scrooge, A Christmas Carol every year without fail.  I imagine that the shepherds must have had the same dumbfounded expression on their faces that Bob Crachit had when his boss, Scrooge the miser, gave him a raise and told him that life was going to be different from that day forward.  What an incredible privilege it is to bring good tidings, to speak well and to carry a message of joy! The changes that such communication brings to the lives of those who receive it are instant and have a lasting impact. And almost everyone will receive it. Most of us are hungry for good tidings and good news. When we hear it our spirits are lifted, we rise from the funk and the day takes on a glow of possibilities. It is hard to be dragged down after heeding a message of joy.  The great change is evidenced in the words of Charles Dickens in the closing of A Christmas Carol when he states "He (Scrooge) became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world."

We all have the opportunity to bring good tidings and spread them wherever we go to whomever we meet. It is just as easy as carrying a downcast, forlorn, morose and melancholy demeanor. We can surprise and delight people with a different message.  We can make the astonishing offer of Scrooge when he says, "I'll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob."  Now is the time to make the change. What is your good word? What do you have to add to the positive flow of life? What personal benediction do you have for your fellow human beings? Find the answer and carry the message! It is Christmas time. Life is good. By the way, it is always good...and always has been!

Pearl Harbor ~ 70 Years Past

USS Arizona Memorial ~ Pearl Harbor

The 70th anniversary of the Pearl Harbor attack which brought the U.S. into World War Two will take place today - at the exact moment the bombing began.  70 years is a long time.  For those of us who are from the Boom Generation the day defined our childhood.  For our parents generation the day redefind the world as they knew it.  My Dad was listening to The Chicago Bears and Chicago Cardinals play in an NFL season ender that had great implications.  The date that would "live in infamy" was announced and had more significance on the lives of players and listeners than anyone could have imagined.  Dad signed up and served as a Naval Officer in the Marshall Islands at Kwajelin.

1941 Chicago Bears (Most of the team served in WWII after Pearl Harbor)

 
A large ceremony to remember the Americans killed in the devastating attack by Japan will take place at 8am Hawaii time (an hour after this post is being written).  70 years ago Pearl Harbor was hit by hundreds of Japanese fighters, bombers and torpedo planes launched in two waves from aircraft carriers. Four of the eight U.S. Navy battleships at the base were sunk in the surprise assault, as well as several cruisers, destroyers and anti-aircraft ships. The attack was intended as a preventive action in order to keep the U.S. Pacific Fleet from interfering with military actions the Empire of Japan was planning in Southeast Asia against overseas territories of the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, and the United States.

The base was attacked by 353 Japanese fighters, bombers and torpedo planes in two waves, launched from six aircraft carriers. All eight U.S. Navy battleships were damaged, with four being sunk. All but two of the eight were raised, repaired and returned to service later in the war. The Japanese also sank or damaged three cruisers, three destroyers, an anti-aircraft training ship, and one minelayer. One hundred eighty-eight U.S. aircraft were destroyed; 2,402 Americans were killed and 1,282 wounded. The power station, shipyard, maintenance, and fuel and torpedo storage facilities, as well as the submarine piers and headquarters building (also home of the intelligence section) were not attacked. Japanese losses were light: 29 aircraft and five midget submarines lost, and 65 servicemen killed or wounded. One Japanese sailor was captured. 

Few of the people who served at Pearl Harbor are alive today.  The Greatest Generation is almost gone and the survivor group that has gathered each year is disbanding after today.  This day has been called Rememberance Day.  Just as an aside...my Dad left the Navy for home on December 7, 1945.  Let us never forget the heroes of Pearl Harbor and World War II.  Thanks for your sacrifice.

Memorial Day

Baum Family Plot, Woodlawn Cemetery, Indianola, Illinois

Memorial Day has always been a day of remembering for me.  My family prepared for the day by decorating the final resting places of loved ones.  Mother and Aunt Helen would split the cost and energy of buying and planting flowers in Indianola, Illinois.  Mom had the sad job of filling the urns and trimming the plot in Spring Hill Cemetery in Danville that had room for many but held only the remains of my sister who died of cancer at age 5.  We visited graves and I heard stories about great grandparents and other relatives that had played important roles in my parent's lives.  Dad might talk some about World War II, but never with many details.  The discussion was mostly about the end of the war, not the horrors of battle. There is a video that is terrific taken of VJ Day, when the Japanese surrendered to Allied Forces in WWII.  It is well worth the watch (be sure to turn up the sound...the link is below the picture)

  VJ Day in Hawaii

The rest of Memorial Day was all about celebration.  School was over.  The swimming pool was open.  There were parades and pony rides for little kids.  The air of every neighborhood smelled of charcoal, hamburgers and hot dogs.  Summer had started.

I think that the whole idea of Memorial Day is about remembering and telling stories.  We will forget about the great lives and sacrifices made if this process is not honored.  Each generation loses something of the one that went before.  That is the way of things.  More is lost, however, if we fail to pass on personal memories of family, friends and life that "used-to-be".  It is a way to connect with our roots and a reminder of who we are.  Moreover, this is an opportunity for coming home.  Our long journey from place to place, person to person and experience to experience, can be tiring and overwhelming.  Memorial Day gives us the chance to return to the familiar.  There might not be a way to physically return to the places that we called home.  We might not be able to visit or decorate the resting place of our ancestors.  But, what a great time to pull out old family photo albums and tell the children and grandchildren about our loved ones who are gone.  Let's spend some good time together by remembering this Memorial Day.

Easter Sunday

There is a most profound question that is raised on Easter Morning.  It is posed by two men in dazzling garments who appear in a tomb, a burial chamber, to people who have come to verify the presence of a corpse.  The shock must have been incredible and the question more than compelling.  They asked, "Why do you seek the living one among the dead?"  This remains as intriguing now as it was two thousand years ago.  There is an empty tomb where we expected an abomination.  There are angels when we anticipated the horrific.  There is new life where we foresaw death.

We are called out of bondage on Easter.  We are called out of our narrow thinking and limited perspective into a new dimension of understanding.  It transcends the boundaries of religion, government and ideas about ourselves.  We are called to a new life without the comfort of "black and white" even to the extent that death is no longer death.  Earthbound eyes can no longer be fully trusted.  The spiritual experience is no longer separate or something that happens outside of us.  We don't have to wait for an apocalypse to find salvation.  The salvation has already been given freely to one and to all.  The kingdom and Easter are within each of us right here...right now.

The Easter Vigil

There comes a time when someone dies who we love dearly.  It is devastating.  Family and friends surround us, bring food and support that is at least vaguely comforting.  The funeral and burial happen in a matter of such a short time.  Then we are left alone.  There are promises, some of them kept, of staying in touch.  But within a few days we are on our own.  People go about the business of living and so must we.  The silence and emptiness is unbelievable.  It is a time of being between two worlds.  Nothing seems real anymore and we reside in a state of unknowing.  Our relationship with life is being redefined.  This experience is played out in The Great Easter Vigil.

Only a part of Christianity observes The Easter Vigil.  I'm not sure why it isn't more universal because the ritual is quite powerful.  The church is stripped of all vestments and ornamentation on Thursday night and remains barren through Good Friday and all day Saturday.  The water is drained from the fonts.  Lights are extinguished.  It is dark, silent and empty.  This is that period of in-between that we suffer after the funeral when family and friends depart.  Visiting the church during this time prior to the Easter Vigil is somehow comforting.  It gives us a sense of the universal experience of grief.  Then the most wonderful thing happens at dusk.  People gather outside of the church where a fire is started.  The priest lights the Easter candle from the fire and then everyone lights their own candle from it.  The light is returned to the inside of the church.  It is the victory of light over the darkness, good over evil, love over hatred and joy over sorrow.  This is the promise of new beginnings.

Woundedness

There is no possible way to avoid the bruises and wounds that are received in life.  They begin at our very birth and continue until death.  Bruises and scrapes certainly hurt and are troublesome but we move on despite them.  Wounds, however, are another matter and demand attention. Sometimes a wound feels so dark, deep and ponderous that it becomes a black hole from which nothing can escape.  It is unbearable.  No light can escape from the prison of injury.  Our entire lives seem to be sucked in and defined by the wound.  Any joy or happiness that came before seem distant and remote, almost as if they never happened at all.  We have been stripped of our defenses exposing our vulnerability and mortality.  The trauma has overcome us.

I am reminded of a version of The Fisher King when I think of woundedness.  This tale is of Arthur who receives what would have been a mortal wound at the hand of The Black Knight.  He is carried to an inner chamber where it is expected that he would die.  The magical relationship that Arthur has with Merlin, however, makes death impossible.  He lingers on and on as the wound drains and festers in horrible fashion.  Merlin appears and informs Arthur that he can only be healed by water being poured from the Holy Grail (the cup that Jesus used at The Last Supper) over the affected area,  Arthur sends his knights to the four corners of the world in search of the Grail.  Each returns empty handed despite the most fervent efforts.  One day the king's cook is preparing dinner for Arthur and decides that he just cannot bear to carry the meal to him.  He is sickened by the grotesque, odorous wound.  He snatches a young boy who he has taken in as an apprentice and sends him with the meal to Arthur.  The boy approaches the king, unsure that he has found the right person at all.  Arthur groans, "What is your business here boy?" to which he replies, "I have come to bring food to the king.  Do you know where I might find him?"  "I am your king" says Arthur.  The boy looks doubtfully stating that he doesn't look much like a king.  Arthur goes on to tell him about the battle, the wound, the magic and the Grail.  The boy asks how one might even recognize such a cup and the king describes it as an ancient, simple wooden vessel made by a carpenter.  Perhaps it was rather rough-hewn but beautiful to behold.  None of his knights could find it and Arthur was ready to give up hope.  The boy summoned all of his courage and with wide eyes said, "I have seen such a cup!"  The king responds in disbelief asking where it might be.  The boy tells him that it is just behind the curtain a few feet from the place where Arthur lay.  He confesses that he sometimes hid behind the curtain and peeked at the curious patient with the horrible gash not knowing he was the king.  Arthur orders him to retrieve it.  The boy fills it with water which is poured over the wound.  The miraculous healing is instantaneous.  The king is saved, he adopts the boy, and...well you know.

It is difficult to understand that the wounds we receive throughout our lives are the very source of our strength, character and identity.  This is the lesson of Good Friday.  The healing that happens as we endure and overcome them makes us aware of the part of ourselves that is invulnerable to being wounded.  We transcend the wounding and our wholeness becomes realized.  Like Arthur we are led to the realization that the healing power was always within our grasp.  It cannot be obtained through will or force but only through childlike trust.  Then when we ask for help it is given.  Like Jesus, and with Jesus, we will transcend it all.