Tuesday, Nov. 23, 2004 8:44 A.M.
Gathering My Thoughts
PAGE ONE
I want to show you my hometown from a favorite vantage point. We often drive up to the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library, located high in the hills above our valley. It is a place of peacefulness. Look to the west, and in the far distance you can see the sun reflecting off the waters of the Pacific. Look to the north, and your vision stops at a range of mountains, which are sometimes capped with winter snow. To the southeast, you can catch glimpses of our city, appearing and disappearing around the curves of the valley and the hills, which are interwoven. Simi Valley. Valley of the Wind, so named in the Chumash Indian folklore.
We have had a real autumn in southern California this year; moderate rain, very cool temperatures (for us) and today there is snow down to the 3,000 ft. elevation and in the high desert. It seems there are more brilliantly colored trees than normal, even though frost is a stranger to this locale. The sycamores faded to a brownish gold, and the sweet gum trees checker the parkways with their brilliant red leaves. The poplar and aspen sparkle like gold coins fluttering in the wind. The cottonwoods join in as their golden brothers.
Yes, this year, we had autumn! And now, Thanksgiving is upon our doorstep. I will celebrate the holiday with my oldest son and his family. They live in a small mountain town in the Tehachapi Mountains, two and a half hours northeast of Los Angeles. Christmas is planned at my daughter�s home in Henderson, Nevada.
PAGE TWO
Unlike some diarists, I seldom write of the seemingly mundane routines of my days. They may be somewhat interesting to me, but why would they interest someone else? And yet�. the simple things of living, DO interest me. I notice that some of you note the books you are reading�even what you are having for dinner. Well, let�s see�hmmm�the book I am �reading� at present is �Because He Could�, a political memoir/commentary by Dick Morris. Sunday night I enjoyed the Hallmark Hall of Fame�s production of �Back When We Were Grownups�. It was based on the novel of the same name, which I read about a year ago. Movies I have seen in the past two weeks: National Treasure, Polar Express, The Incredibles. The latter was not one I would normally have chosen, but with all the publicity, I went to see what all the talk was about. It was not my cup of tea, but I thoroughly enjoyed Polar Express. The story is a classic and is filled with nostalgia and values; the music was excellent, and the graphics are beyond belief. Of course, Tom Hanks is a genius no matter what he does.
For about a year now, I have been �studying� the Torah via taped classes taught from the Hebrew by a Jewish Hebrew scholar. It took him years to cover the first five books of the Bible at the Institute of Judaism here in L.A. I subscribe to this teaching series, and a set of tapes faithfully arrives on my doorstep each month. I listen to them almost daily, in order not to create a backlog, and after a little more than a year, I am only through the 29th chapter of Exodus. You Bible scholars can see that I have more than three extensive books of the Torah to go. It is amazing how this study is enriching my understanding of these books.
I have few �favorite� TV programs. I am really not into the reality scene. One exception is �The Amazing Race� which I enjoy, possibly because of the world traveling. I enjoy �Judging Amy�, �The View�, and the place I turn to when all else fails to interest me�the Fox News Network. �The View� broadcasts at a time of the morning when I am busy with other things, so I tape it to watch at bedtime. I used to be an HGTV fan, but they stopped showing most of my favorite programs. I always figure that must be a sad commentary on my viewing choices�they cancel them. I refuse to tell you my very favorite TV sitcom. It is not one that I would recommend to others; the content is questionable; but I think it is the funniest show on TV. I never fail to laugh out loud, over and over as I watch it. I think we all need one good �belly laugher� show for therapy on a regular basis. If you are really curious about it, �email me, but I may not tell. Oh�I almost forgot Oprah. Yep! I am a diehard Oprah fan.
PAGE THREE
Several months ago I discovered a new blog which has become a regular read for me. I believe the author has a heart which needs to be heard. He is unique. Perhaps even a little controversial in his style and outlook. But I think he is refreshing and his message is liberating. I asked him for permission to share one of his latest entries, and he gave me his �blessing� to do so. This is a little lengthy, but I would encourage you to take the time to read and receive the gift of his storytelling ability. If you are too busy just now, put it on hold and read it at a more convenient time. But do read it.
Where Is The Man? The two men in expensive robes looked very out of place in the darkest part of the back streets, but they were not afraid. Their robes and their attitude let everyone know who they were. No one would dare harm them, even at night. �Do we understand one another?� �Yes, separate one. I understand perfectly.� One of the robed men tossed a few coins into the shadows of a doorway. As they turned to walk away he called back over his shoulder. �Don�t be late. And don�t disappoint me!� They walked quickly through the alleys with the sleeves of their robes pressed over their noses and mouths. The man who had thrown the coins said to his companion, �A most distasteful business, I must say.� Jesus came early to the temple the next morning to continue his discussions with a small crowd of people made up mostly of tradesmen from the streets of Jerusalem. They were thrilled that this exciting, young rabbi seemed to enjoy teaching regular people. Soon they were knotted around Jesus and engaged in a passionate discussion of the Torah and its interpretation. Their conversation was interrupted by the panicked and fearful shrieks of a woman. All heads turned at the same time to see a group of about ten men pushing their way through the crowd and up to the front where Jesus stood. These were important and very religious men, some of them scholars and officials of the Temple. Others were Pharisees, respected and wealthy men who took pride in keeping themselves away from sinners. The woman stood with her head down and her hair covering most of her face. Her shoulders were hunched inward with shame, and she was desperately holding a tattered robe around her body. Her feet were bare and her hair was dirty. She was disheveled and confused, and she was not properly covered. A glimpse of her thigh was visible through a fold in the cloth. Under her chin the robe sagged, revealing her collar bone. He paused and looked around at the crowd for effect before repeating himself loudly. He cocked his head slightly and stretched his arm out toward Jesus with his palm up. He said the word �rabbi� with mock intensity, drawing it out until it almost sounded like an insult. Jesus looked at the group of religious men before him. They met his gaze without looking the slightest bit uncomfortable or unsure of themselves. He turned his head and looked at the small crowd of people who moments before had been listening to him teach and asking questions. They were all looking at him now. Some of them were nodding to each other as if to say, �Yes, I�d like to know what Jesus says about a terrible thing like this.� Then Jesus turned his eyes to the woman who stood trembling before them all. His eyes moved slowly over her, picking up details that told him something of her story. She was a woman of the streets; that seemed obvious. She looked hard and desperate. The bottoms of her feet were calloused and thickened, as were the fingers clutching the edges of her cheap robe. She had known hard labor, and the life she now lived made her harder still. Her hair was dirty and there was straw in it. It looked as if someone had thrown her to the ground, tossed the robe at her, and given her a few seconds to make herself presentable. But something was wrong here. Something was missing. Something nagged at the blurry edges of his awareness, something he couldn�t quite put his finger on. Jesus slowly lowered himself into a squatting position, eyes still on the woman. Then he looked at the ground before him and wrote with his finger in the dust as he thought and wondered. The crowd was quiet. They stared at him and wondered what he was going to do next. And then he froze. His index finger stopped moving in the dirt. He understood. He knew what was missing. His eyes closed and he let the air out of his lungs with a groan. His shoulders sagged. He became intent on the ground before him, and he wrote in the dirt, �Where is the man?� He stood quickly and stepped across what he had written and toward the Pharisee who seemed to be the ringleader. He spoke directly to him, but loud enough for everyone to hear. �Where is the man?� �What man?� �You know what man. It does take two to commit adultery. Why have you not brought him here to face justice alongside her?� The Pharisee�s face tightened with anger. �The whereabouts of the man are not your concern here today. You call yourself a rabbi, do you not? We have come to you with a legitimate question of the law and of justice. Answer please, honored rabbi. What is to be done with this adulteress who stands before you in obvious guilt? Answer and perhaps we shall talk about the man when we are done with her.� Jesus narrowed his eyes and stepped forward again until he was standing right in the face of the Pharisee. Years of carpentry work had made Jesus strong. He had broad shoulders and rough hands. But the Pharisee was unafraid. There could be no greater triumph for him than if Jesus were to strike him down. But Jesus made no violent move toward him. Instead, he spoke softly in a voice that only the two of them could hear. �You set this up, didn�t you? Yes, of course you did. How does one catch a woman in the very act of adultery, I wonder? How unless he knows ahead of time when it is going to take place. How much did you pay him? I wonder how a man like you even knows how to find people who will do things like this.� The Pharisee looked calm and spoke in a whisper. �The crowd awaits your answer, rabbi.� Jesus turned and took three steps back to the side of the woman who had not moved or lifted her head. Her hair still covered her face, giving her some small feeling of privacy. Jesus stood for a few moments looking at the place in the dirt where he had written �Where is the man?� Then he addressed the crowd in a loud voice. The ringleader squinted and looked suspicious, but the other religious leaders and many in the crowd were nodding in agreement. What he said seemed fair enough. �This is what I say. She is guilty, so stone her according to the law of Moses. Yes, stone her now and let God�s justice be done!� The woman screamed in terror, and the crowd exploded into frantic whispers. Everyone was talking at once. The Pharisee who had asked Jesus for judgment smiled. He had never in his wildest dreams expected such an easy and complete victory. Many in the crowd were shocked and uncomfortable. Although the Law of Moses indeed specified this penalty for her offense, public stoning was rare and frowned on by the Roman government. Many would say that stoning was right, but few had the stomach to cast stones themselves. No one knew how to proceed. Even the religious leaders who brought this woman to Jesus did not think that he would say such a thing. Jesus was supposed to be an advocate of mercy for common people. He was known to associate and even eat with women like this. Jesus used the confusion of the crowd to maximum effect. He slowly raised the rock over his head and faced the woman. The crowd became silent. All eyes were on him. Then Jesus turned to the man in the fancy robe, the Pharisee. �You have heard my judgment. Now hear my terms. Let the first man to cast a stone be a man who is himself guilty of no sin! And let him come forward now, before us all, and claim his right to take this rock and carry out this justice.� With that Jesus hurled the rock at the feet of the ringleader. It hit the ground with a loud thud. Then Jesus squatted back down and resumed writing in the dust by the feet of the woman. The crowd was stunned. Many stood with their mouths hanging open. Some of the townspeople, empowered by Jesus, nodded in agreement. After a few moments everyone began leave. Some of the religious leaders melted into the crowd and left as well. Jesus never looked up. He kept his eyes on the ground as the crowd dispersed. In the end, the only one left was the man who had brought the accusation. Feeling his power slipping away, he turned and left himself, uttering a barely audible oath as he walked away. Jesus squatted in silence beside the woman. When he looked up they were alone. He rose to his feet and spoke to her. �Daughter of Abraham, lift up your head and look around you.� �I cannot.� �Then lift up your eyes at least and see who condemns you now.� Slowly, the woman�s hand pulled her matted hair away from her eyes. She looked around, amazed to find that there was no one left but her and Jesus. �Who is left to condemn you?� �No one, sir.� �Then neither do I condemn you. Go your way and be at peace.� She pulled her robe more tightly around her shoulders, dropped her hair into her eyes again, and began to walk away. �Daughter of Abraham. I have something to say to you before you go.� �Your name is worth more than this; do not dishonor it. Your life is worth more than this; do not waste it.� The woman made a slight move with her head that might have been a nod, then started to walk again. Jesus spoke one last time. �Daughter of Abraham, YOU are worth more than this. Go now and sin no more in this fashion. Be instead the child of God that you were meant to be.� This time her shoulders shuddered and a soft sob was heard. She ran and disappeared around a corner. Jesus watched her go and whispered softly to himself, �Go, daughter of Abraham. Go and live your life, for we are all worth more than this. |
Have a blessed Thanksgiving!
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Text � copyright 2003 - 2008 The Homespun Philosopher
2008