A Brazilian priest attached himself to hundreds of helium-filled balloons in an attempt to set a new record for the longest flight powered by party balloons.  He did this in order to raise money for his pet project, the establishment of a spiritual truck stop.  The previous record, apparently, was nineteen hours.  On Tuesday, some of the priest’s balloons were found floating in the ocean, but there was no sign of the priest himself. 

“Given his physical condition and the equipment he was carrying, I would say that there is an eighty percent chance that he is still alive,” remarked the commander of a local fire department.  Let’s hope so.

The balloon pilot wore a helmet, flight suit, water proof coveralls, and a parachute when he lifted off in pursuit of the record.  He carried with him drinking water, cereal bars, a GPS, a satellite phone, and a floating chair.  According to reports, he is an experienced skydiver.

So, while it sounds as if he was well-prepared for this adventure, I have to wonder about his methods for trying to solicit contributions for his envisioned new ministry.  How much is this approach costing?  The fire department and Navy were on alert to monitor his flight; now they are trying to find him.  That’s not free.  The balloons, helium, and above-listed paraphernalia cost money that otherwise could have been contributed to the cause.  And his life and physical well-being are at risk.   He already may be dead.

I don’t know why the priest chose a dangerous stunt like a helium balloon flight to raise money.  Is it really necessary in order to get people’s attention?  Is he a show-off?  Is the cause not compelling enough for folks to be convinced it is worthy of their support? 

The impetus to begin new ministries should come as the result of prayer and the leading of the Spirit.  It seems to me too much time and too many resources are wasted on mediocre or failed projects when someone thinks it would be nice to start something, and they forge ahead without consulting God.

Maybe the balloon-riding priest did all of this.  Maybe it was the Holy Spirit who opened his eyes to the need for a spiritual truck stop.  And while I hope he survives, I just find it highly unlikely that God inspired him to go about funding his new ministry in this way.

Yesterday, I heard a snippet from an interview with guitar legend Carlos Santana, one of my favorites, and he was talking about the current presidential campaign.  He thought he should have a say in the outcome, since he pays “a whole lot of taxes to the government.”  His idea was that Barak Obama and Hillary Clinton should be co-presidents, with “Obama working the night shift, and Clinton working the day shift.  Obama can stay home, while Clinton goes around the world cleaning up the mess Bush has made out there.”  I guess Carlos is a Democrat! 

It’s an interesting idea, but probably not palatable to either candidate, let alone John McCain! 

International relations always is a topic of news and discussion.  Former president Jimmy Carter recently was criticized for his Middle East trip, as he was not acting within the parameters of official U.S. foreign policy. 

I once had an interesting experience pertaining to foreign relations, during my tenure as Executive Director of William Penn House, a Quaker-related seminar center in Washington, DC.   It involved a group of perhaps a dozen Russians booked to stay with us for several days, under the sponsorship of American University. The morning after their first night at WPH I showed up for work and Barbara Silverman, the resident House Manager, was waiting for me at the front door.  “This can’t be good,” I thought as I bounded up the front steps.  It wasn’t. 

Barbara told me that a number of the Russians were drunk during the night (alcohol and drunkenness were against the stated rules for guests at WPH), wandered into rooms occupied by other guests not associated with their group, and made suggestive overtures toward Barbara and others.  After thinking about what to do, knowing that Barbara was very upset, I asked her to point out the miscreants to me, which she did. 

If you ever saw the movie The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas, there is a scene in which Burt Reynolds, in the role of the town’s sheriff, goes after Dom DeLuise, who played a sensationalist reporter seeking to gain attention and fame by exposing on television the town’s open secret.  The sheriff breathes fire on the reporter, backing him down the sidewalk of the town square, the reporter tripping and stumbling, the sheriff calling him every name in the book while the townspeople look on.   

Well, except for the fact I wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat, I was the sheriff, giving the Russians, whom I had cornered, what some people refer to as “down the country.”   And I threw them out.  The people at American University were not pleased by this turn of events and tried to talk me out of it, but I said, “Get their stuff out of here by this afternoon.”  And they did. 

Actually, I generally had a positive relationship with folks from their part of the world.  The Soviet Union still existed when I began my work at William Penn House, and numerous times I invited representatives from the Soviet Embassy to speak to students.  They always seemed willing to comply.  I got to know one of the First Secretaries at the embassy, and he was my regular contact for such arrangements.  He sometimes came and spoke to groups himself.  We never went to the embassy, however. 

There was another person the embassy sent several times to speak at WPH.  One day I received a telephone call from the FBI asking me about this particular person.  Now, how did they know I knew him?  The FBI even sent an agent over to William Penn House to question both Barbara and me about this man.  We really didn’t have much to tell.  All I know is, the next time I called the embassy to invite the man to speak to another group at WPH, my contacts there never heard of him.

In baseball, when the pitcher (is he a southpaw, does he have good “stuff,” is he wild, does he have a “bad hose?”) throws the ball (is it a curve, splitter, cutter, change-up, chin music, or, as Joe Morgan likes to say on ESPN on Sunday nights, a “slide-piece”), and the batter (using an open stance, employing an inside-out swing, trying to hit behind the runner, sitting “dead red,” anticipating the high cheese) hits it in the air (a can of corn, frozen rope, blue darter) to an outfielder (is he a journeyman, a gold-glover, a butcher?), who catches the ball, it is termed a fly ball out.  When someone asks, “What did Derek Jeter do in his last at-bat?,” do you say, “He flied out to right field,” or “He flew out?”  Most baseball players and fans, familiar with the lingo, likely would respond with “flied.”  Is there such a word?

Where did all the birds go last autumn?  “They flied south.”  Hmmm, that doesn’t sound correct.  Within the confines of a baseball stadium (between the white lines), though, “flied” actually is a word.  It’s part of the descriptive language of the sport.

In Tae Kwon Do, a Korean martial art, we taught the students terminology in addition to the kicking and punching techniques.  Supposedly, what we required them to learn was in the Korean language.  For instance, in order to advance in belt rank, the students were supposed to know the Korean names for the techniques they were demonstrating in the test.

We taught beginning students that “Tae Kwon Do” meant “Feet, Hands, Mind.”  And in our warm-ups at the beginning of class, we instructed them to yell (there is a LOT of yelling in martial arts) “Tae Kwon!” on double punches, and “Tae Kwon Do!” on triple punches.  I often wondered what a person from Korea might think if he or she walked by and heard unseen people shouting, “Feet!  Hands!” “Feet! Hands! Mind!”

Recently, I was in the presence of a clergyperson from another denomination who made some jesting remark about our church practicing “sacerdotalism.”  My response, not entirely in jest, was “I beg your pardon!”  He was making reference to the five steps rising from the floor level of our sanctuary to the platform (chancel) where our pulpit stands, implying that we put our clergy on a bit of a pedestal.  Obviously, he doesn’t understand Disciples!  But, what should be expected from someone who is part of his church, the name of which begins with “B?” (Take that!)

Groups, activities, and cultures, of course, have distinct languages and terminology.  Theology (“God-talk”) is one of the worst offenders, and if preachers went around tossing off terms like sacerdotalism (meaning, “The belief that priests act as mediators between God and humans”) all the time, the pews would be emptier than they are now.

Pastor Michael Lindvall makes the point in an article that a preacher is wise to leave the fancy words back in the study when he or she speaks to the faithful on Sunday mornings – not that folks aren’t intelligent enough to deal with them -- but in order that clearer and more meaningful expression of the gospel can take place.  Too much pretension already occurs in pulpits.  We don’t need linguistic arrogance and grandstanding, too. 

Of course, in seminary, the technical jargon continuously bounces off the walls and ceiling.  After all, professors and fellow students need to be impressed!  But, I’ll never forget a comment by a theology professor, Ed Towne, during a class discussion of the Classical Theories of Atonement.  He looked at all of us and almost pleaded, “What does it really mean to say that Jesus was raised from the dead?”  We looked back at him, with no one saying a word – for a long time.

He simply stated, “Your silence is profound.”

Somewhere along my journey, I was in a town that held an annual “Brotherhood Breakfast” (the name shows it was quite some time ago).  The idea, as I recall, was to invite Christian, Jewish, Muslim, and other religious folks together to share a meal and listen to a guest speaker addressing the theme. 

One year I arrived early, sat down at a table, took a drink from the glass of water at my place, and waited for a colleague I was meeting, prior to getting food from the buffet.  My friend was late arriving, and I decided to join others who were dishing up their eggs and bacon. 

When I returned to my seat, the table was filled was other folks.  I gently mentioned to the person in my seat that I was sitting there already.  He ignored me completely.  It was as if I were invisible.  I spoke again, and got the same lack of response.  So, I kind of shrugged my shoulders and went to find another place, which wasn’t simple since the room was filling up with guests. 

After placing my food at the new seat, I returned to my original seat, reached across the man who ignored me, picked up the glass of water, and said, “I already drank from this glass.”  Again, no response, no acknowledgment that I even existed. 

When my friend finally arrived, I told him what happened, and we shared a laugh as we envisioned a headline in the next day’s newspaper:  “Fistfight Breaks Out Over Seating At Brotherhood Breakfast.” 

It turns out there is actual, physical fighting between Christians at the designated sites of Jesus’ birthplace and tomb.  Shrines were built at both places, and Greek and Armenian church leaders jealously protect what they perceive as their “rights” there.  An agreement forged many years ago supposedly spell out those rights, and the agreement is known as the “status quo.” 

How ironic.  So many church fights are centered on issues pertaining to the “status quo” of tradition, theology, and biblical interpretation.  Many church folks resist change, in whatever form it occurs, and they resort to varieties of disruptive behavior.  But violence between Christians at the manger and tomb of Jesus? 

Multitudes claim to worship the Prince of Peace, but they don’t follow him.  It occurs to me that he would rather have it the other way around.

Elison Research, via the Religious News Service, was cited in the current issue of The Christian Century, giving a USA Today-type graphic called “Americans on sin.”  The box states, “Eighty seven percent of Americans believe in the concept of sin.  What counts as sinful behavior?  Here’s the percentage of Americans who view certain activities as sinful:

                              81%                 Adultery

                              74%                 Racism

                              65%                 Use of hard drugs

                              56%                 Abortion

                              52%                 Homosexual activity

                              52%                 Underreporting income

                              30%                 Gambling

                              29%                 Telling a ‘little white lie’”

No definition of the word “sin” is given in the graphic, but a commonly-held meaning is “separation from God.”  Do any or all of these “sins” listed above meet the criteria?

Well, I suppose it depends on who is doing the justifying.  The survey respondents are described as “Americans,” as opposed to “Christians,” or “Religious People.”  So, perhaps the definition of sin somehow even takes on a more secular slant when used as part of a survey such as this one.

It seems here as if sin is linked to personal or individual morality, which makes me wonder whether any of the respondents would see debilitating poverty in the midst of suffocating affluence as a sin.   Or, how about poor stewardship of natural resources, and the trashing of the environment?  Sin?  Or not?  What about the effects of war, not only on the people who live where the war is waged, but also on the mental and physical well-being of those sent to fight?  The frequency of suicide among active-duty U. S. military personnel is reaching a new wartime high.  Depression is pervasive among battle survivors.  Does any of this constitute sin?  To me, it seems the layers run very deep.

Fifty or more years ago, a popular book was titled, Whatever Became Of Sin?  My sense is sin largely is viewed as something an individual does.  Each person is responsible for his or her own behavior, a natural descendant of the frontier “rugged individualism” that characterized the growth of our nation.

Sometimes I have the impression we apply that to our faith, as well, and it becomes “all about me.”  So, we try to discern the path to heaven, overlooking the bigger picture of how “all about me” contributes to “not about anyone else,” and separation, alienation, and bitterness increase.

The visit to the United States, and specifically to Washington, DC, by Pope Benedict XVI raises some interesting issues.  As I write this, Roman Catholics are filling Nationals Park in the nation’s capital for a mass to be celebrated by the Pope himself.  Included among the worshipers are numerous Catholic members of Congress.  Some of them are supporters of abortion rights, placing them at odds with official teaching of the Catholic Church.

During recent political campaigns, various Catholic bishops have publically criticized candidates for such a stance, and indicated they would deny those candidates a place at the communion table.  If they don’t endorse the church’s position, they don’t get communion, in the minds of these bishops.

A group of U.S. lawmakers signed a letter several years ago protesting public statements by church leaders who sought to exclude them from the sacrament.  They wrote, “If Catholic legislators are scorned and held out for ridicule by Church leaders on the basis of a single issue, the Church will lose strong advocates on a wide range of issues that relate to the core of important Catholic social teaching.”

Senator John Kerry (D-MA), during his presidential campaign four years ago, was among those whom bishops said should be excluded from communion.  The senator sees a larger picture:  “Pope Benedict’s historic visit is an important opportunity for Catholics and for all Americans to reflect on the ways we can contribute to the common good, address global issues of poverty, disease and despair.”

In fairness, most of the 250 bishops in the United States allow parishioners to make their own decisions regarding worthiness to receive communion.

In my tradition, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), we have no creeds, no tests of fellowship, or any person making decisions about who may receive communion.  We practice an open table.

In our view, we are not looking for worthiness to be at the table.  We are encouraging everyone to come to the table in order to experience the presence of the Risen Christ, and to be transformed by his spirit.  If folks were “worthy,” why would there be a need for communion?

I’ve shared communion with racists, liars, liberals, conservatives, Republicans, Democrats, pro-lifers, pro-choicers, fundamentalists, GLBT folks, and who knows who else.

And they have shared it with me.  Thank God we have been invited to the table by the One who promises new, blessed, abundant, and eternal life – which none of us is capable of earning on our own.

There is an old bromide that goes, “Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day.  Teach him to use the Internet, and he’ll leave you alone for months.”  Actually, now there is a project that combines the best of both statements.

I saw this on the news last evening.  There is a website called Free Rice that links the interactivity of a web-based game with providing help for hungry people.  The game is a vocabulary-builder in which the player is given a word and several definition choices.  For each correct answer, grains of rice are donated through the World Food Programme.

The rest of the site gives information about hunger, where the rice comes from, who pays for it, and so on.

The sad reality in our world is that tens of thousands of people die every day from hunger and related health issues.  There is not an even distribution of food resources across the globe, and sometimes when food is donated to famine areas, it is intercepted and never reaches the intended recipients.

Free Rice is one attempt to address this urgent human need.  Give it a look, learn a few new words in the process, and help feed a starving brother or sister.

I'll be back here next week. 

Meanwhile, here are some video clips to enjoy:

John McCain/David Letterman

Seinfeld has an overdue library book

George Costanza -- Marine Biologist

Cab Calloway sings "Minnie The Moocher"

Billy Crystal challenges the ice cream king

Andre the Giant has a unique talent

Andy Kaufman on SNL

I remember quite well the foreboding pillars of smoke from angry fires, the epidemic looting and stony-faced National Guard troops in Washington following the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. in Memphis on April 4, 1968 – forty years ago today.  

I think some folks in the suburbs – our neighbors – worried that inner-city rage and violence actually was a threat to their detached observation of the world.  I’m not sure how the rioters were supposed to get to us, though.  There was no subway in Washington in those days, many of the people involved didn’t have the means to own cars, and I doubt they were going to look for exact change to catch a bus.   It was too far to walk.   

Shortly after King’s death, Resurrection City, a community of plywood shanties and tents for those participating in the Poor Peoples' Campaign, was slapped together on the national mall in the midst of persistent and inhospitable rain.  It became a muddy symbol of the plight of those who came to confront the rest of us, including the elect, who shakily tried to maintain the “good old days.”

What a time it was, and I likely will spend the rest of my life trying to understand it, attempting to piece together the dynamics and factors that thickened the air. 

A wealth of information about it all can be found here.

Recently, I sent a friend a birthday card that showed Al Gore on the cover asking, “You’re putting HOW MANY candles on your birthday cake?”  On the inside he continued, “What did the polar ice caps ever do to you?”

Of course, the former U.S. Senator and Vice President is known for his attention to environmental issues, especially global warming.  His work not only has raised awareness of the changing climate of our world, but earned him a share of a Nobel Peace Prize. 

Yesterday, Gore announced a huge undertaking:  a campaign to significantly reduce the greenhouse gas emissions in the United States.  Through an intensive advocacy effort, to include “advertising, online organizing, and partnerships with grass roots groups,” Gore and the Alliance for Climate Protection intend to provide education on the related issues, encouragement in lobbying lawmakers, and practical approaches for individuals and organizations concerned with global warming.  It will be a bipartisan effort, highlighting the fact that, not only are we all in this together, but that some former skeptics finally are acknowledging the realities facing our planet.

The cost is high, some $300 million over the next three years.  Gore himself is throwing down in a big way, including his personal profits from the book and movie, An Inconvenient Truth, his Nobel cash, and a matching contribution from his own wealth. He and the Alliance believe many Americans are committed to the cause, and in making known his plans yesterday said, “When politicians hear the American people calling loud and clear for change, they’ll listen.”

Let’s hope so.  Kermit the Frog was famous for singing, “It’s not easy being green,” and while that may be true, what other choice does humanity really have?