Around the Horn – 6.17.10

The North vs. The South
When I first moved to the South, it freaked me out that complete strangers would talk to me.  But now that I’ve lived in Georgia for six years I’ve gotten used to Southernplayilistsic Hospitality. And now, having just returned from a short trip to Massachusetts, I was reminded how the North is different from the South when it comes to church and faith.  There are four differences that jump out at me:

Firefighters Are For Weak People
Recently a firefighter in our church was told by one of his colleagues that belief in Jesus was for weak people. I found that ironic coming from a firefighter.

The Stuff of Good Friendships
Will you try an experiment with me. Will you open your calendar or your i-phone calendar and give a month to not judging. Seriously, just pick a date about 30 days from now and set an alarm saying you can judge people again, but until then, refrain from thinking less of anybody for any reason.

Paul Prather: New Atheists Embody The Very Things They Hate
My objection to the new atheists isn’t that they’re atheists.  It’s that they strike me as hypocrites, which is the charge they unfailingly level, with mixed justification, against the religious. In opposing religion in the manner they do, they betray themselves as possessing the traits they profess to loathe.  They’re smug, dogmatic and mean-spirited. They trot out tired, half-truthful stereotypes, and they cherry-pick historical examples of religious wrongdoing while ignoring the innumerable instances in which the faithful have performed great acts of decency and charity.  They pretend that all Christians are bigots prone to violence. They claim that Christians are by definition illogical bumpkins who mindlessly accept fairy tales.  They act as if Thomas Merton and Bob Jones were of one cloth.  It’s absurd, and it’s especially grating because it comes from people who flaunt what they consider to be their own relentless logic, superior intellect and brave candor.

Sometimes It’s Just Plain Hard
These are beautiful stories, one and all. Tales of hope in the midst of tragedy. Memories that bring consolation to the bereaved. And I’m getting tired of hearing them. Can I say that out loud? “Why?!” you no doubt gasp in horror. ‘Cause Michael and me, we got nuthin’.  Michael’s illness was just plain hard. I’m not complaining; it could have been a thousand times worse and I know that. Yet from the day he got sick in late November until he died on April 5, he never again had even one good day. His life became throwing up in a bucket or trying to sit perfectly still so he wouldn’t throw up. My life became driving him to medical appointments in the dead of winter through rain and sleet and snow and fog and sometimes all of the above. I’ll condense the story for your reading enjoyment. Michael got worse. Life got harder. Then he died.

Scenes From The Gulf
Boston.com has put together a pretty powerful montage of the unfolding Gulf tragedy.