You may or may not be surprised to know that the insular character of modern conservative church life is one of the chief reasons people reject the gospel. If you are really interested in helping people find Christ you will expand your borders beyond the default comfort zone. As Isaiah said, “Woe to you who are at ease in Zion.” People need saving, and closing ourselves off from them and their ideas is a sure way to get them to ignore us.

We permit football (the modern equivalent of bloody gladiator sports) into our Christian homes, not only because it will get people saved if they realize some of the players are Christians, but because we like it. To shut off science because it somehow sullies our Christian thinking is a bit hypocritical. Some of you may also shun the sports arena. That’s fine. I admire your purity. But Jesus went where the people went. He didn’t sit in the Temple and wait for people to come to him.

Welcome To Finley Hawthorne Forseter, my great nephew. Wow! You are the picture on my iPhone. I get to see you every time I answer a call. Thanks!

since my cat died. I tried to get on with my life, but in so many ways I recognized that mourning for him took over my free mind, my social consciousness, my connection to my wife, my celebration of our wedding anniversary. When I prepared to speak on Sunday at a church north of town, I could see the words I wrote on the page, but I was not connected to them. I think that is why I put it off so long, until Saturday, hoping that I would connect. Speaking was OK, and I think it helped me reintegrate, but it didn’t seem natural at first.

I saw my wedding anniversary coming all week long, but I just didn’t do anything about it. It was too distant from my self. All you married boys know how big a problem it is for us if we don’t remember our anniversary. Well, I watched it coming all week long like a drugged person placed on the railroad tracks waiting for the train.

Why is it that a cat commanded such complete connection with me that losing him would disconnect me from my world? I don’t know, but I suspect that it has something to do with euthanizing him instead of just waiting for him to die. I think it took something out of me to do it. I am usually opposed to taking life of any kind, and this has really wrenched me from my self.

To my wife, I am sorry for being such a klutz. I am not using the cat as an excuse for neglecting us, it is just that I have been broken from my normal self by this event.

Strictly, I took Gilbert to the Vet to put him out of his misery, even though today was a good day for him. I’m tearing up as I write, sitting in Borders using their new free wi-fi. Most days in the last three or four months have been hard for him. But today he took the time to lick his coat, sit in the sunshine, play with the other cats a bit. Over the last few months they had begun to ignore him for the most part since he was so nearly lifeless sitting in his chair or lying still on the floor, but today they noticed him a little more.

Lois treated him with special kindness this morning. I came home from seeing my friends at Panera at 9:15 a.m. to find him walking around the house, happy. She let him out of his room when she left for work knowing it was his last day in the light. I don’t want to rehearse the whole story of his kidney failure here, but suffice it to say that he was incontinent and lost his training for using the cat box persistently. I remember reading of a book once that described the moral characters of our pets. The author said that they reflect the moral character of their owners. He would act guilty when he peed on the carpet, but he also couldn’t square away what he should have been doing. He was miserable that he couldn’t fix this problem.

I am a little angry that I became angry with him, but I used a little negative reinforcement to retrain him. His kidney failure assured that his bloodstream was swimming with his own poison, and he just couldn’t remember what to do. We put him in the laundry room at night and during the day when we left the house. He usually remembered while we were home to confine his potty to the box. But he began to forget even when we were home. We couldn’t keep him locked up in that room forever. He would cry pitifully. So we let him out and he would usually find his way to the middle of the floor or to his chair where he would stay most of the time.

On his happy days he would rub up against us or even get on our laps, visit us when we took a shower or do any of his usual happy things like pawing my book bag or any new backpack or luggage.

Today, he walked over to the laundry room stood inside the door and meowed to let me know he knew I wanted him to use the potty there, to let me know what a good cat he was. I petted him then cried a bit, making sure he had enough food and water, his last nibble. He didn’t eat anything then but followed me out into the living room. I cuddled him a bit and when I put him down he went to the window and sat in the sunshine. Eden arrived at about twenty minutes till ten. She cuddled him and held him, and after taking care of some business, she followed me out of the house with him.

In the car, he cried as he normally does, but we let him walk around. He gravitated to my lap, but Eden helped me drive safely. We arrived at the Gentle Care Animal place in Nixa. We had been crying all the way, and telling stories about Gilbert. When we walked in the door, somebody at the front counter chuckled because Gilbert had his front paws around Eden’s neck, and was holding her tight. He was comforting himself. They saw then that Eden was crying and acted more respectfully. I gave them my name and paid the fee. In a moment we were ushered into a quiet clean room and were shortly visited by an attendant who told us what was going to happen. The doctor would anesthetize him. He would fall asleep in about five minutes. Then they would administer the barbiturate OD that would shut him down.

We touched him and held him while the Vet gave him the anesthesia near his spine just forward of the hip. Though he was usually scared at the Vet’s, he trusted us and was a good patient. The Vet and her assistant left for the five minutes and Eden and I took turns holding him while he slowly relaxed. His eyes dilated. He fell asleep. The Vet came in and administered the barbiturate in the femoral artery, he bled a little, but within seconds, he was gone. We wrapped him in the hot-air balloon beach towel I bought in the early 1980s, and took him to the car. Needless to say we were weeping.

His final dignity was that he didn’t release his bodily fluids until I handed him to Eden after she got out of the car. We wiped him off a bit then took him downstairs and placed him in the middle of the carpet. Jake, our youngest cat came by and licked Gilbert. Licked his head and his coat behind the head and the rear leg. He even tried to rouse Gilbert to play and wrestle. Jake gave up and went to sit in the sunshine. Jody came by and sniffed Gilbert and then walked over to me on the couch.

Lois came home and we sat, sighed, and cried. Jake tried to rouse Gilbert again, and gave up again. We talked to each other for a while, then as Gilbert became increasingly cold, I went to get the shovel. I began to dig a hole on the east of our young tree in the back yard. Eden finished. I wrapped Gilbert snugly in the towel and placed him in the hole. I took pictures. Eden read something she wrote, and Lois and I prayed. We started to fill the hole with dirt, then I got one of the stuffed mice all the cats played with and put it in the hole with him, you know, for the afterlife. We filled the hole in and went inside.

We sat and talked about him and thought that someone should bring a casserole. We all ate together. Eden and I ate grilled cheese and tomato soup. A little while later our friend Melanie brought over flowers and a lasagna. It was good to see her. Thanks Melanie. Melanie left and shortly after that, Eden left for school, I for Borders. Lois was still at home. I have been weeping in this public place until a short while ago. Maybe my mourning is over for the moment.

I am a patternist.

This is a view of what the soul is. It is not a substance, but rather, roughly data written on structured media. Humans are the structured media, while our experiences of people and the world we all live in is the data. I mention this because the pattern of my cat has been written for the last ten years or so on my body. I will remember him. What I am, what my soul has become is partly due to his little animal character. His little intelligence impressing itself on my greater intelligence and mine on his. We form together. We experience the world through each other’s eyes, through each other’s experience.

What I learned.

I have learned that rescuing a poor and terrorized animal from its former owners was a noble deed that came with a price. It cost me something of my natural self to learn patience with an animal whose only look at the universe was through the violence of his former environment. I have become less violent with the universe. I have learned some small measure of peace. I have learned to treat others with less violence than I had before. I have not, unfortunately, learned this lesson fully. I am hoping Gilbert’s pattern continues the work of pacifying me. I thank God for this gift of grace. Even though I am imperfect, I know Gilbert trusted me, and in his way made me part of his life. I hope I can learn to trust God at least as much as my cat trusted me. I hope I can save others at least as much as my cat saved me.

There always seems to be the risk of losing data. Therefore I avoid doing it. It seems like a big waste of time. Yes I recognize that the slackers and crackers have found ways into the code to hijack web sites, but who in the world cares about this one? Yes, I do, but besides me? So much!!

On the 14th of August I received notification that my credit line had been reduced to $500. OK, now, I don’t often use that card, but it is important to have it for school, etc. The whole thing started in August last year when I started my checking account with Bank of America. During that transaction, I cancelled three previous BoA credit cards that had accumulated through BoA’s acquisition of previous banks I had credit cards with. None of those cards were in active use. Here’s the trick. They never stop associating those accounts with the original owner of the cards for record-keeping purposes.

So, when I signed on to my online account, two of those cards were showing as active as part of my overall banking portfolio. Now, to make a long story short, I used the current card for overseas travel, and paid it off online. The problem is that I didn’t credit the correct account, which didn’t show up as an option. I figured, if you click a button that says “pay this” it should enable you to pay it. Well it paid one of the “defunct” accounts. I didn’t know anything was wrong until the bank notified me that my payment was delinquent. OK, so in the month between when I paid the wrong account and their credit department squared the deal, I accrued a small amount of interest that was attributed to the correct new card. I didn’t know that because it showed up after the mistake had been corrected. I learned how to stop showing the “defunct” credit accounts from an Online Person.

Well, it is now well into April, all the school bills had been paid, and I threw the bank’s cards and checkbook into the drawer for the summer. In August, I am notified that my credit limit has been reduced and that the account is delinquent. OK, so I mope for 9 days then pay the small sum due. But dang it, it went into the “defunct” account again. So, I call the bank and they tell me to show up at the store. I show up and I am told that they cannot fix the problem, that I must call the Online Banking department. So, the count starts: first call, first person. Visit to the bank, second person (who can’t help me), second person calls Online Banking for me; talk to third person who cannot help me because I am not in front of my computer, and the second person is no longer able to sign in to online banking as a customer any more because of security issues. Third person says good bye. I go home and call fourth person in Online Banking, who starts to analyze my problem. I get disconnected. I call again, and talk to the fifth person who can’t help me, but says I have to talk to Online Bill Pay person. I talk to Online Bill Pay person, person six, who helps me configure the account correctly to delete the remaining vestiges of the “defunct” credit account and add the correct account. Funny that the wrong account is there automatically and the right account has to be added on. The Online Bill Pay person, person six, says she cannot fix the thing that started this problem and directs me to the Credit Card person, number seven. The credit card person patiently listens to my story, and it is with her that I learn the credit accounts never are and cannot be deleted. No one has yet answered me why the ‘defunct, cancelled” accounts automatically show up in Online Banking. But person seven still cannot fix my problem. She points me to the Credit department. Person eight is a “credit analyst.” He actually understands the problem as all the previous individuals did, but can actually do something about it. He fixed the interest accrued in April-August and reset my account to the correct credit line. All is forgiven, all is forgotten. All is well, I am done.

I will make a copy of this and give it to the bank guy, person two, so he can understand how frustrating this is for the customer. I don’t blame any of the persons in the above list. The system is built that way. I’ve spent a total of about 4 hours on this. Enough!

UPDATE!! October 8, 2009

The bank now says that I owe this account $11.51. They’ve screwed it up again. I think I’ll just call in and say this card has been stolen.

How do you print an 11×17 page from a pdf file? We tried to print it to an Epson 1400 and were unable to get more than about half the page. It turns out there is an “Advanced” button in the print dialog that allows you to print the page as a graphic image. Check that box. Weird, obscure, terrible. I have two Epson printers at home. The ancient one prints fine and we can still get cartridges for it. The other one, a pro 4800 has the most inconsistent and terrible drivers in the world. This seems to be running true with this photo 1400 as well. Who would think to go to the Advanced button to print a page which by all accounts looks like it will print fine with generic settings in the dialog box?

I am so sorry this blog has been negative lately. I am appreciating the sunshine; the fire I burned outside last night brought enjoyment; my wife and children are constant joys, even my mother-in-law. Praise be…

My ~13-year-old cat is suffering from kidney damage and his health is deteriorating. After diagnosis, the vet told us that the cat would not recover his lost kidney function but that a diet change might help him get back to normal. Well the food helped his kidneys to work again, but he started peeing everywhere in addition to the box we had provided. Enough of that. In addition, he is not gaining weight or returning to his normal happy self.

We can’t have that in our house and live in it too. The cat cannot control himself. We are now looking at euthanizing the animal who has been our companion for 12 of those years. I weep thinking about it.

I am sorry for the negative note, but there are things that irritate me. Do you know that there are conventions in place for driving that tell us before we ever come to a stop sign or stop light what to do? Well there are, If there is a four way stop, and you come to a stop before anyone else, you can go first. If you and somebody to your left arrive at the same time, you can go first. If you and somebody else to your right arrive at the same time, you must wait till they go before you do. Here is the thing that irritates me. People who, thinking they are being polite, or giving you something, or according you privilege of some sort, and wave me on irritate me. They think for some reason that you need to be allowed to do what you are, by convention told to do anyway. Or breaching convention they wish to allow you to go first when you arrive at the same time or later from the left. I try to ignore these people, but when it is really my right to go first, by convention, I feel angered because it looks like them waving me on is something I am obeying. I feel like stopping in the middle of the road to prevent them from going. I feel like getting out of the car and asking them if it is OK to go now. I feel like getting pissed off. I realize that there are so many people doing this completely idiotic thing, that I would spend my day being angered by them and reacting to them. I feel like giving them the finger. I am far too polite and respectful, however, to do any of these anger-induced things.

I thought I got over road rage in Birmingham AL. But this is a new thing. I haven’t found the zen of traffic at stop signs, yet. I will. There is no fruit in revenge, or violence, or trying to shame them into doing what comes automatically for a socially conscious driver. They are just humans, and they may really be trying to be courteous. Who am I to stop people from being courteous in such a rude world? Well, it certainly would be counterproductive to be violent when much of what my life is concerned with is peace.

To the idiot drivers who never went through driver’s ed, I am sorry for my anger, sorry for my anxiety. But I will continue to ignore you even as you continue to ignore common sense. I will not try to tell you that green means stop and red means go. You would not believe me. That is too obvious. The more subtle things like traffic conventions are beyond your ability, even as being kind towards idiots is beyond mine.

How about people driving with cell phones attached to their psyche? It is illegal in some states for good reason. How about tailgaters? How about drivers who pay more attention to their passengers than to the road, or traffic? How about people who take half a mile to accelerate to 35 miles an hour? The list is not endless, but long enough for me to desire even more horsepower to get around you, and away from you.

Excuse me for bringing this up again, but a leader in the Assemblies of God said, “The very concept of ‘atonement’ means ‘to cover.’ Or, as David put it, ‘As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us’ (Psalm 103:12). God’s forgiveness includes His forgetfulness. He is not interested in broadcasting your failures. Instead, He throws around you His robes of righteousness.”

I argue with none of this but what is emphasized above. Does God’s forgiveness truly include his forgetfulness? This is a difficult problem for one reason only: political. I would feel free to criticize this remark, even publicly, but I agree with what this leader is doing and do not wish to cause him trouble. What I would like to do is criticize the remark without having it reflect on this person’s otherwise much desired leadership.

To do that, I would like to set the remark in the context of a fairly primitive theological view. It is primitive, not because it is generally biblical but because it refuses to use the light of logic as a test for theological statements. Let’s make up a new word to fit the problem: theoillogical. That is not to say that all true theological statements are comprehensible, but that some are beyond our logic. The above statement is not one of those.

One thing we have learned in the last 2500 years or so is that humanly perceivable logic is actually true, despite the curious fuzziness at its limits. The core of logic, though empty is nonetheless true. If it is not true then, everything we have constructed around it is also without plausible connection to our rational perception. The world then becomes a complete mystery, and all our science is still completely in the dark. I cannot accept this consequence. Kill me now. If our logic is disconnected from reality, then most of what we know is wrong. Let the world end now. It isn’t worth trying to square things away any more.

Rubbish. We may not know everything, but we know some things.

The other possibility is that the theology is wrong. Is it possible that some things can be known of God? Is it possible to know what God can or cannot know, at least categorically? There is another issue: is the God I believe to be, worthy of being my God? The answer to the first question that bears on the second one, is that, categorically, any God must know more than I do, both about me and the universe. If that simple requirement isn’t met; if that isn’t the God who is there, then don’t bother me any more with theology, I am an atheist. Or, better, if there are superior beings who don’t qualify as Gods, then I would be happy to meet them as fellow travelers in this universe.

I hope this clears things up. Though this leader’s God is great, it is not great enough to know my sins I haven’t forgotten. That God doesn’t qualify categorically.

Actually the God I worship is greater than this leader’s God. My God still forgives me, covers me, redeems me, even though my God knows everything about me. My God, the one who created logic, and for that matter, all truth, is worthy of me, is not less than me, is the maker, the master, the holder, the origin, the all-encompassing one, whose beginning and end are incomprehensible, and who, arguably, is beyond human logic, impossible to prove the existence of, and scientifically uninteresting.

I think I’m going to hunt for more on this later. Who knows…