What a come down!

The church calendar rightly highlights important aspects of Christ's work in the world: His atoning sacrifice at Good Friday, His resurrection on Easter, Ascension Day, Pentecost. These are vital to the life of the Christian and of the Church. But this season is Advent, and we are tempted to skate right past this particular aspect of His great work.
Condescension, the coming down to our level. His scandalous act that some branches of the church could never embrace, breaking off rather than bending to the story as it is found. God became a man. As Paul the Apostle puts it, "He made himself nothing." (Php 2:7) In order to take our place it was required of Him to be put in our place.
No, that's wrong. He wasn't put here; He put himself here with us. God moved into our neighborhood. It was a journey He set out on and a destination He chose for himself. Passive voice has no place in the work of Christ. He was not sacrificed, but rather gave himself as a ransom for many. He was not put down, but the royal things He was He set aside, and He came down to be with us.
The other aspects of Christ's work we marvel at from one side. We accept his sacrifice on our behalf. We await our resurrection that will be some how like his. We will be caught up. He do the catching. Ours is the passive voice in so much of this.
Except in this-- we are invited to join him in coming down. Paul says in this same passage that our attitude should be like Christ. Condescension can have an awful tone when we use it among ourselves, but it is so fitting of Him who set down everything that made him God over us, and taking on something else to be found as God right next to us.
This season is Advent, and you are invited to move into the neighborhood.

CO2 as percent of total atmosphere

From 1960 to 2010 CO2 in earth's atmosphere went from 0.032% to 0.039%.

Not a one percent change. Not a tenth of a percent change. Not a hundredth of a percent change. Just seven thousanths of one percent change in CO2 levels as part of total composition.

Data collected at Mauna Loa and reported on NOAA website. link

 

Just sayin'

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, American Poet, ca 1920

I was reminded of these words today and wanted to keep them in the collective memory.

The COOKIES were good ...

This afternoon was the first in a short series of "Workshops" in the Chowchilla area for the High Speed Train document review. Tomorrow they are in Le Grand, and Thursday at the Chowchilla Fairgrounds. The California High Speed Rail Authority brought copies of their new draft Environmental Review which people could read individually. Authority specialists helped people find whatever chapter and section they were looking for. If they knew what they were looking for. Handling people one at a time also significantly reduced the 'pitchfork' factor. There was no general presentation. There were no questions from the floor. No microphone. Nevertheless, the workshop quickly took on the air of the Chicago Trading Floor.

People living in the Ave 24, Ave 21, UPRR/99, and BNSF corridors need to carefully review those documents to find if they are on one of the several proposed paths of the HST. Apendix 3.1-A had very detailed satelite photos of ranches potentially effected. People not specifically in line with the tracks also may be impacted by road changes in their immediate area. They'll be putting up a lot of fence along the route.

The workshops in Chowchilla deal with a number of decisions concerning the Wye that will direct San Fransisco trains to Sacramento or to Los Angeles. There are at least four possible routes and until one is finally chosen, the other parts of the HST system cannot be planned. Nay-sayers have called the initial section of the system, the Merced-Fresno corridor (containing the Chowchilla Wye), "the train to nowhere." And it will be a very quiet bit of track for a very long time as the rest of the massive statewide system is built. But it is also the most complex piece of this huge puzzle. It has to start here and grow in both directions, if it is going to be built at all.

The Authority is to be commended for trotting out their charts and graphs, maps and volumes of reports. I am sure there was a wealth of useful data buried there. But buried is how I felt. Anyone planning to attend the two remaining workshops needs to do their homework beforehand. Without a ready question to ask they will find the session less than satisfying. But on a brighter note, the cookies were delicious and the water was ice cold. Galilee Missionary Baptist Church in Fairmead were the perfect host. One of the routes in fact runs very near the church.

The documents are available online and also at a variety of public forums where they can be studied in quiet detail. Comments to the Authority may be submitted online or in person at these workshops. Public hearings on the HST will be held in September. Should be fun!

Four Gaits

Impressions of people I saw today:


She threw her shoes before her as she walked, leaving the rest of her to trail along behind like a lawn dart.


He stalked along the sidewalk like a man who had been much heavier in the recent past.


She moved like a broken folding chair, her face burdened with the focus required to maintain net forward motion.


He lounged as he walked, like one half expecting a sofa to suddenly materialize into which he could schlump down.

Flying High

It looked like a gentle evening for a sunset sail, just us two. We've had our boat a half dozen seasons now, and I finally decided to hang out an ensign flag. We lake sail, and there is no real doubt about country of origin. But it is coming close on the 4th, and I thought it would look fine waving on the backstay.

And it really does. The boat has white topsides a blood red boot stripe, and navy blue bottom paint that rolls up as she heels to the wind. The whole effect with the flag was very nautical. I never realized how much I would like a tell tail. Our new flag flapped gently in the direction of the wind and made sail trim so much easier. The wind almost died completely several times, but the light little flag would jump up and point the way in the slightest rising puff.

Suddenly around 6pm the wind kicked up fiercely, rushing from 4 knots to a howling 25. We still had all our canvas up and struggled to get room for adjusting sails. Just before we had been shouting to a tiring cross-lake swimmer, offering a float or a tow, but he would take no help. We got quickly into open water, the boat heeling over violently. I was glad we had installed a downhaul line for the jib sail out front. The foredeck is no place to be when the boat is pitching in the waves. We downed the jib, which helped a good deal, but were unable to round up to wind which would give us the slack for reducing the main sail to the first reef point.

We struggled against the full wind in the sail to get at least part way down and secure the reef nettles, binding up the unused sail. We had enough control by then to finish the first reef and haul in to the second. When I built two reef points into the sail (I lofted the sails at home on our livingroom floor and stitched them on our little Kemore portable.) I thought it overkill, but was glad to have the second reef that day.

Now, finally, with no jib up and flying just a quarter of the main, the rest reefed in, we were able to take a tack back towards the rock levee. We could see the swimmer had made it to shore and was walking back along the levee road. Despite the howling wind and the boisterous waves, she was now sailing upright on her feet and making good progress. It was good to be in control again.

And we might have spent the rest of the evening jousting back and forth down the length of the lake, but the wind was whistling in the rigging and the waves topping whitecaps. We were starting to get wet and cold. We decided to turn in.

This was mistake number one.

Turning for the docks, we prepared the docklines and tracked our progress, sighting against the rocks on the levee. We were sailing level and well, but coming in too fast. It would be a sudden stop at dockside. So we took down yet more sail.

This was mistake number two.

When the wind is driving straight toward the docks, one can take down all sails and come in at a gentle pace on bare poles. You have enough forward motion to use the rudder to bring yourself alongside the docks, crew steps out and neatly cleats off the boat. This is poetry to behold. On this day the wind was not driving straight toward the docks. By the time it became apparent that the wind was coming from too far off the port quarter it had pushed us outside the docking area approach. Hastily trying to rehoist the main sail and cut right, rounding up for another pass only saw us driven past the willows, past the concrete spillway, and driven onto the rocks of the levee. The gusts held us pinned against the shore. One brave soul tried to come to our aid, but didn't have the horsepower to pull both himself and us off the lee shore. He barely made it back out himself.

We secured the boat as best we could to the fences and posts along the shoreline. The waves were now grinding the hull against the rocks. Lines to shore would at least localize the damage. We stepped ashore and met the sheriff's man who offered to get the powerful patrol boat and haul us off the rocks and back to the dock. A night on the rocks would surely have ruined the hull.

While waiting for the rescue, my attention came back to the brave little flag beating furiously against the gale screeching through the rigging. It had ridden the wind and waves with us the whole way, and now, sole occupant of the stranded vessel, held forth as if to say, "Take heart, this is nothing so terrible. Have courage, I've seen a lot worse. Iwo Jima was windier than this. So was the smoky breeze topping the Twin Towers. Omaha Beach was a bigger challenge, so was Bull Run, Gettysburg, Bunker Hill. Think about Oklahoma City, the Nairobi Embassy, or the base of the US Marines in Kandahar. No, I've seen a lot worse. This is nothing to be concerned about. Take courage."

The Sheriff arrived in short order and hauled us off the rocks and soon we were tied off at the dock. Another few moments more had her safely aboard the trailer and snug in the parking lot. The damage is cosmetic, a little fiberglass, a little paint. A little of the kind of effort that endears a boat to her owner and gives her name meaning. Our girl is named Amada, "Beloved" in Spanish.

And the little flag is stowed safely below waiting our next outing, confident of whatever comes our way, full of the boyant spirit that floats aloft on every evening breeze. Or gale.

Fair winds and following seas.

Cause and Effect

Would the Arizona shooter have gotten off as many rounds as he did if Pima County were more supportive of concealed carry weapons? Put another way, would this tragedy have been as severe if it happened in Maricopa County where Sheriff Arpaio is a defender of concealed carry?


AZCentral.com reports Sheriff Dupnik's attitude as just the opposite.
"At a Sunday news conference, Dupnik singled out [AZ State Rep.] Harper's proposed college faculty gun bill as an example of the state's lax firearm laws."
"We're the Tombstone of the United States of America," the sheriff said, referring to the Arizona town famous for once dispensing old West justice. "I have never been a proponent of letting everybody in the state carry weapons wherever they are. That's almost where we are."


I don't know if I'd want to carry if Sheriff Dupnik was going to show up at my post-incident hearing. You'd like to think you were not going to get shafted for doing the hard thing, but..


So now there will be calls for more gun control, the Brady gang will be out in force. But the Tragedy in Tucson didn't happen because someone had a gun. It happened because ONLY ONE had a gun.