Advent anticipates the coming of the Word

When I was in elementary school, there was a club for boys called “Junior Deputy Sheriffs.” Besides an ID card, members got a little badge, which many boys wore proudly, usually pinned to the right jeans pocket. My brother had been a member, and as soon as I was old enough – 9? 10? – I joined and pinned on my badge. We felt important, part of the team, though our duties consisted only of attending a monthly meeting. Looking back, I think the unspoken primary goal was to help prevent us from getting into trouble.

The meetings were in the auditorium after school, maybe once a month. It was led by an aging deputy, who helped us learn more about law enforcement. I think he may also have been a part-time preacher. Each meeting began with a “devotional” in which he read or had one of us read the first verses of the beginning of the Gospel of John – “In the beginning was the Word . . .” I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who found this passage confusing. And when I got chosen to read one time, it was challenging even though I was always among the best readers in my grade. When I aged out of the organization, there were things I missed. Having to listen to John 1 was not among them.

Yet many years later, I led Morning Prayers in Appleton Chapel at Harvard on a day early in Advent. It’s a short service, allowing 2-3 minutes for the homily. The text I chose to discuss — John 1.

Then, many more years later, during the COVID-19 pandemic, a sheltered part of my family held our own Christmas Eve service. For the homily, my son (by then a Harvard Divinity School graduate) spoke about “The Prophecy” and I “The Fulfillment.” As I began my preparation, I felt led to rely on – you guessed it – John 1.

Here’s what I said in the 1970s service at Harvard:

This, as you may or may not have been able to decipher through all the tinsel, is the season of Advent. The word “advent” comes from the Latin roots ad – “to or toward” – and vent from venio – “to come.” Thus, this is a season to celebrate the coming to us of someone or something.

There are a number of ways of interpreting the meaning of Advent. Parades beginning before Thanksgiving, in big cities, small towns and in between, interpret Advent to mean “the coming of Santa Claus.”

I want briefly to offer the fourth gospel’s interpretation: the coming of the Word of God into the physical realm of existence. I also want to attempt to suggest what “Word” means and what it is.

John 1:14: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” The concept of “The Word,” or Logos in Greek, as found in much of the religious thinking of the 1^st Century Mediterranean world, is a topic for more time than I have, if not also more understanding. Suffice it to say, it meant more than mere letters on a piece of parchment or an uttered sound. Words were believed to be the essence of whose words they were. “The Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (John 1:1)

I suggest that the Advent of the Word-made-flesh means we are free. We are liberated. Jesus said, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth and the truth will make you free.” (John 8:31-32)

The Word came from God’s world — i.e., realm of being — to our world. So, we know that God’s world exists. We get a glimpse of it. This knowledge of a realm beyond our existence frees us from a lot of anxiety and uptightness. It gives us the freedom to, as it were, “transcend” things such as institutions, customs, prejudices of this world that would seek to entrap us.

This knowledge does not, however, free us from responsibility toward this world. Rather, it frees us to be responsible. For, because of the Advent, our world is joined with God’s world, as the Word becomes flesh. The difference between the two worlds is not a difference between “here” and “there,” but a difference between “here” and “more than here.”

We are freed not from having to love our fellow beings. We are freed to love them.

And now to my suggestion of what the Word is: St. John tells us that the Word and God are one. He, or someone with the same name, also tells us, “God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” (1 John 4:16)

How this word was translated into human experience is the subject of all four gospels, but it can perhaps best be summed up into the word, “Love.” The Word is God, and God is Love. Love as exemplified by Jesus.

Another John — with another Paul — of our own time – that is Lennon and McCartney – express the whole idea in a song called “The Word”:
“Say the word and you’ll be free” and “Have you heard, the Word is Love.”

______

Here are the thoughts I shared in our home service, Christmas Eve 2020:

At Christmas time in 1952, a couple of months before I turned 6, a sister of mine who was then in high school, joined with some of her friends to “adopt” a local family that would otherwise have a limited Christmas, at best.

I wanted to help. I dug five dimes out of my bank and gave them to her. That 50 cents would be $4.88 today. As I thought more about the needs of that family as compared to ours and about how surprisingly good I felt giving the money, I wondered if I was willing to do more.

In my prized monetary hoard were two 50-cent pieces I was saving for no reason other than that I liked having them. Could I possibly part with one? Would I feel sad? Dimes were a lot easier to replace. Ultimately, I found myself taking out one of the 50-cent pieces and doubling my contribution. What I felt was the direct opposite of sad.

Then I read John 1:1-5:

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.

“Word” here doesn’t mean speech. It’s the Greek word logos, which in Greek philosophy refers the controlling principle in the universe. I’ve heard it suggested that we translate it here as “God’s creative energy.” This text also calls it life and light. It has always existed and was exhibited in human form through Jesus. This is the introduction to the story of Jesus as told in the Gospel of John. It doesn’t start with shepherds and a manger, but with the Word — creative energy — of God becoming flesh — taking on human form.

So, here we have a guy who is God’s Word-creative energy-light in flesh and blood.

Whew!

So, where do I fit in?

The next couple of verses suggest an answer. Verse 6 introduces John the Baptist. It says, “He was not the Light but came to bear witness to the Light.”

I realize now that’s what I did that time back in ’52 (and I hope at other times since) — reflected that Light. (And I would note that when something is reflecting light, it is also lighted by it — and often warmed as well).

That’s our job, as we are reminded at Christmas — to bear witness to God’s Light. Our pastor put it this way in his streamed sermon last Sunday:

“You don’t have to be the Messiah to make yourself useful.”

Trying to re-find Paradise generated arts-based theology

During a summer ministerial job when I was in theological school, I led a weekend retreat for young adults and older teens. It was a good group experience, with shared recreation, group-building exercises and thoughtful conversation. A short time afterward, I was talking with a guy about my age who had participated. He began to delve further into my being a seminary student. Being skeptical but searching, he asked me the inevitable question: “Who or what is God?”

I thought for a few moments and remembered one of the more significant exercises we had done on the retreat. Each person takes a turn lying face-down on the floor while others tap firmly but gently on them, head to toe for a minute or so. They press down, then roll the person, who remains limp, over and raise them high above their heads. The feeling that one gets up there is beyond explanation. One experiences many things, including complete trust. You know that — no matter what — those people won’t drop you. That works even for certified acrophobes such as I. So, I said, “You remember how you felt when you were up in the air in that exercise on the retreat?” (And it’s worth noting he was the largest participant.) He smiled and said, “Yeah.” I replied, “That’s God.” His response: “Dig it.”

This guy is one of countless individuals I’ve encountered who are trying to know God. I’m in this group, and I’m confident the ones I’ve encountered represent a small sample of those on this journey. Often this search is for a limited God, not unlike one maybe heard about in Sunday School and/or John Milton’s “Paradise Lost.” This search is, at best, incomplete; at worst, disillusioning.

My religious upbringing was not completely fundamentalist but still quite “orthodox.” It was slightly altered along the way though never shaken for 19 years. But then one night during the spring of my freshman year in college, I was reading “Paradise Lost” for an English class. Ironically, it was this that started a chain reaction in my mind, so that in about 10 minutes, the beliefs I had held my whole life to that point were wiped out. Milton’s picture, so similar to what I had learned in Sunday School, was just so nice, that I suddenly realized it couldn’t be that way. No three-level universe, no war in heaven and, to my horror, no Ruler in heaven. The image this experience still brings to mind is that of a sandcastle disintegrating in the rising tide. It just shows how shallow my faith really is, I thought at the time. I’ve since learned it wasn’t shallow, just immature.

I immediately began to try frantically to piece my theology back together and/or rebuild it. I figured if there were a God, I’d better find “him” PDQ. So, I directed a lot of attention and energy to trying to define “God.” Every now and then, I would come up with some very systematic, step-by-step theory of what it was all about, just what “God” meant. And the very moment I got the theory all spelled out in my head, I immediately realized it was baloney.

This miserable time of being an atheist-wanting-to-be-a-theist went on for two or three years. In my quest, I fell into some patterns that I suspect hinder a lot of people in the same situation. I was trying too hard. Yes, we do need to be diligent in trying to figure things out, but there’s a point of diminishing returns. Sometimes we may be searching so hard for “God” (or the meaning of life, or Shalom or whatever term works for you), that we miss a small but significant clue that is right there. Often, we base our search on a narrow concept of God. Again, incomplete and potentially disillusioning.

Finally, I resigned myself to the fact that I did not understand what, if anything, the term “God” meant and might not ever. In this process, I subconsciously made the decision to affirm what did have meaning for me, rather than constantly being uptight about what didn’t. That was the first positive step I had taken in some time toward rebuilding my personal theology.

I didn’t even realize at first that these affirmations were helping me understand the concept of “God.” That realization developed slowly. I continued to participate in many of the same “religious” activities, including Sunday morning worship at church and various gatherings of a student organization. The rituals felt rather empty, but I got something out of being with the others. There was a human connection that was more than human.

Gradually, I came to understand that the connection with others – in religious and other settings, as well – was an experience of love. It was real and beyond the physical realm. I believed in this spiritual connection, whether or not I could define it or give it a name.

And there was art.

Art in all forms, though especially music and poetry, has always appealed to more than just my five senses. During that miserable time, I had no trouble continuing to affirm artistic expression and experience. I didn’t feel miserable when hearing good music or reading a meaningful poem. I came to appreciate that art has more than a physical dimension. This reality helped me realize I wasn’t an atheist after all.

The spiritual nature of human community reinforced this notion. Finally giving that connection a name – “love” – led to understanding, at long last, the scriptural phrase “God is Love.” To get to that understanding, I had to flip the phrase. Reasoning that “if A=B, then B=A,” I said, “Love is God.” Another piece of the puzzle.

The arts helped me begin again to rebuild my personal theology.

I think that one way of understanding how we are created in our Creator’s image is that we too can be creators, albeit imperfect ones. I am not suggesting we can all paint masterpieces, write quality poetry or compose fine music. But we do have the potential to be creative. Different individuals have potential that is developed further in particular areas. We have the potential fully to appreciate art in any of its expressions, be it visual art, music, drama, poetry, etc., even if we are not blessed with the ability to produce it. Yet, further, creativity, as given to us by our Creator, is not confined to what we think of as art. Our Creator’s image within us, like our Creator, transcends boundaries and limitations.

We can and should be creative in our occupation, in our relationships with others, in all aspects of our lives. That is, we need to be open, innovative, aware of all the possibilities, conscious of what is going on inside and outside of our heads. We need to utilize all our senses as well as components of our thought processes, without getting stuck in any particular one. Stated overly simply, we need to avoid operating “in a rut.”

If we truly become conscious of what is involved in a good poem, a moving piece of music or any other art form, we become aware of something more than this physical world. To create music or poetry or any kind of art takes a power not of this realm of existence. Experiencing this art – listening to or performing a song, reading a poem – allows us at least a glimpse of this realm.

Ultimately, what worship is all about is transcendence – not as a means of religious intoxication, but as an impetus and aid to active Christian (or substitute the name of your religion) living. Through art, through creative expression, through utilization of God’s gift of creativity, we commune with our Creator.

This understanding of theology evolved for me concurrently with my deepening understanding of the spiritual nature of human community, leading me to be more interested in and dedicated to worship renewal.

Just as a side note, it is thus impossible for me to see any difference between “sacred” and “secular” when we talk about art. Begin by looking at the genesis of classical music. Many of the fine pieces used for preludes and postludes were written without words to convey a sense of the presence of God. Stained glass was put in the church windows not only to tell Bible stories, but also to evoke a sense of the Divine presence via their artistic quality and multicolored light shining through. Songs don’t have to include “religious” words to connect us with God.

I do think, however, that we do at times need the use of traditional religious symbols. For while it is good to experience the presence of God, it is even more joyous when we realize more fully that that is what we are doing. These symbols can do the reminding. But our dependence on them is due to our limitations. It certainly isn’t due to God’s. My spiritual journey over these decades has included redefining virtually every religious symbol, as well as many words and phrases I’ve heard quoted freely in church all my life.

When I was a student at “the oldest Protestant graduate school of theology in the nation,” one of my favorite and most influential professors was Rabbi Murray Rothman. In one class discussion, he reminded us – most eloquently – that God is infinitely greater than human understanding. Any ‘god’ that you can understand could not possibly be God.

As noted earlier, accepting my limitations was a positive step forward. We do not have to make God be there by searching frantically through the hymnal or the latest version of the Bible. Nor is the Rock of Ages going to crumble because some people rest on it in “unorthodox” ways.

A couple of ghost stories

Rick Richards had three co-workers, in different settings, with whom he had become close friends. Each one eventually moved away, though they returned to the area occasionally, which Rick would find out after that fact. They made no effort to get in touch with him when they did.

Two continued to send a Christmas card each year. One of those was a friend as part of a group of close friends. When he’d be back for a day or two, he’d get together with one, sometimes two members of the group, but never Rick, even though Rick had known him longer than any of the others.

The other card-sender once was going to a local event that Rick might have been likely to attend. It would have made sense for the former colleague to email and ask, “Are you going to be there?” and maybe meet up for a brief face-to-face, but there was no such attempt.

The third had been a coworker in a service organization. This person never even sent Christmas cards, though Rick felt they had been even closer than he was with the two who did. When this person was back in the area, he also made no attempt to contact Rick. A couple of those visits, however, did include being at the same place at the same time as Rick. Both times, he greeted Rick like a long-lost brother but otherwise made no contact at all.

Carl Carlton had a close friendship that began when he was in college. He and this person seemed to click immediately. They not only had mutual interests, but they also brought complementary characteristics into the relationship that helped both grow.

They stayed in close touch for many years. Carl and his wife invited the friend and spouse for visits around events all enjoyed. The Carltons also arranged to stop by and see these friends a few times when traveling near their town.

Carl didn’t give it any further thought when one of those visits couldn’t happen because of the friend’s busy schedule. But later when Carl and family showed up for a scheduled visit the other couple had forgotten about, it gave him pause. In time, the other couple was too busy to visit Carl, no matter how appealing the itinerary might seem.

Communication had mostly been by phone to arrange to get together. When email came along, Carl was not able to get an address for them.

___________

The antagonists in my childhood nightmares were not ghosts. To me, ghosts were fanciful creatures, subjects of entertaining, even amusing stories. They were nothing like the ghosts many of us have come to know, and be haunted by, as adults.

These “ghosts” are people who suddenly disappear from your life. This definition of “ghost” officially entered the Merriam-Webster dictionary in 2017, though the term can be found in use as far back as the 1990s.
Here’s another ghost story:
___________

Bill Williamson was, for many years, very close to someone in his extended family. There were letters and phone calls, then also emails and, in time, conversations on Facebook around something one or the other had posted. Bill and friend visited each other’s homes, despite the miles in between. No invitation needed.

There was a family event every two years near where the relative lived. For many years, Bill and his wife would spend a couple of days at her house before or after. One year, though, the friend had other things going on and would not be able to have Bill and wife visit. Bill chalked it up to unavoidable scheduling. When the same thing happened two years later, Bill chose not to read anything in to it then, though eventually he would look back on it as the beginning of the end.

During this time, the two friends gained vacation homes, which were an easy day trip apart. There was vague talk about getting together, but nothing definite until a time when each would be at these homes and Bill said, we’ll be at our place on these dates and can come to yours on this day.

There was agreement, though Bill sensed some reluctance on the part of the other. Then just before the time arrived, he got a message with a lengthy list of all the reasons his friend couldn’t host him at that time.

It wasn’t simply saying “something’s come up” or “we’re overloaded,” maybe giving a brief example or two. It was too much like begging the question. As the list went on, the more tangential the excuses became.

The friend said maybe they could meet somewhere when things settled down a bit. (Meet “somewhere” – i.e., “not in my home.”) She said she’d be back in touch about it. Never happened. Rather abruptly, Facebook interactions stopped. The other person’s posts stopped showing up on Bill’s newsfeed, unless they were “public,” such as a new profile photo. Comments and “likes” from her on Bill’s posts went from frequent to none. Bill was still listed as a friend but wondered if he had been unfollowed.

__________

Individuals may naturally drift apart and mutually turn attention and affections elsewhere over time. Yet when the relationship, for whatever reason, ceases to work for one, though apparently not the other, the one who wants out may resort to what has come to be called “ghosting” — i.e., ceasing to communicate without any warning.

Most, if not all of us have done it — reached a point in some relationship where we chose, for whatever reason, just to let it drop. In a casual relationship, this ending may not be particularly troublesome for either party. In many cases, acquaintanceships come and go naturally. Yet the more you’re invested in a relationship, the more painful it can be when circumstances bring it to a close. And it can be bewildering when a two-way street becomes a one-way street that becomes a dead end.

An internet search quickly turns up a lot of material on ghosting, written by psychologists, relationship experts and others. Much of the discussion of ghosting focuses on romantic relationships, but it happens in friendships as well. There’s agreement that ghosting reflects more on the ghost than the one being ghosted. They choose an easy way to remove themselves from an uncomfortable situation. It’s not the most emotionally mature choice.

Experts also suggest that we don’t try to reconnect with someone who has ghosted us. If we do, there’s usually no response from them. It’s important to remember, however, that a lack of a tangible response is, in fact, a response.

Sometimes, the ghosting is a gradual process, starting with “soft ghosting.” They minimize contact progressively over time. Fewer and fewer emails, texts or calls. Bailing out more and more on plans to get together.

Many of us may identify with elements of the tales presented above. Ultimately, we can’t do anything about being ghosted. We can just move on from extinct relationships. We can also try not to ghost other people.

If you are ghosted, try not to take it personally. It’s their pattern of behavior. It’s not helpful for you to try to think up excuses for why they follow this pattern. We can’t control another’s actions. We do, however, control our own. Take time to be sad but then move on. Devote your energy and attention to people who value you.

Wrong anthem

As I sit here on Sunday morning, Sept. 28, 2025, listening to my local classical music radio station, which plays music reflecting the day’s Common Lectionary (selection of scripture passages used in many churches), I just heard “Poor Man Lazarus,” with its refrain:

I’m tormented in the flame!
I’m tormented in the flame!
Dip your finger in the water;
come and cool my tongue,
’cause I’m tormented in the flame!

It is based on the parable Jesus tells in Luke 16:19-31, one of today’s readings.

Some years ago, when this same passage was also used, a small choir of which I was a member, sang a song recounting John 11:1-44, in which Jesus is said to raise his friend Lazarus, brother of Mary and Martha, from the dead. Same name, but one was a character in a story Jesus fashioned, the other real person. Different stories, serving different purposes.

I didn’t realize we had prepared an anthem about the wrong Lazarus until I heard the day’s scripture read that Sunday morning. Our director, bless his heart, had seen the name Lazarus and then had chosen the song.

I sent a group email that afternoon pointing out the faux pas. The director admitted it was embarrassing. Another member, though, who as I do, holds a Master of Divinity degree, somehow found a way to see it as OK.

Why did/does it matter to me? Well, besides my OCD tendencies, I think that the more the music and liturgy directly support the day’s scripture, the more meaningful the worship experience can be.

250-word sentence

In the 1980s, I worked in an office with people who value clear communications as much as I do. We were, after all, public relations professionals. We shared with each other examples of communications efforts that sometimes were instructive and at other times made us laugh — or cringe.

One day, for fun, I was inspired to try to create a single sentence of about 250 words that said, “Keep it simple.” I laced it with some shots at bureaucracy. (We worked in a state-run academic medical center.)

My colleagues enjoyed it. The assistant director went a step further. He had one of the secretaries type it up and send it as a memo from him to the personnel office, as human resources offices were called back then.

Here it is:

In preparing interdepartmental and intradepartmental memoranda, requisitions, policy statements and other similar necessary correspondence related to matters such as and including employee principal function evaluative procedures, fiscal responsibility in implementing cost containment procedures, appropriate temporary storage of personal and/or state-owned motorized vehicular transportation, schedules for ingestion of requisite nutritional matter (whether in the institutional refectory or another approved setting) or periodic maintenance of electronic, telemetric and porcelain equipment, such documents shall be kept to overall minimal lengths and shall utilize succinctness and cogency so as to attain optimal effectiveness due to maximum circulation, retention and application, manifest clarity of purpose and minimal exhaustion of institutional, natural and human resources, and it is suggested that all such written conveyances for which these regulations may be applicable conform to guidelines set forth by the executive assistant to the governor’s vice chief of staff’s select committee on the achievement of clarity of program mission at every organizational level, except where exemptions may be deemed necessary and justified because of state, Federal or local regulations, special departmental needs or other exemptions as outlined in the report of the task force on exemptions appointed by and functioning under the direction of the administrative assistant to the adjunct associate state attorney general (version revised January 1978), and in doing so the management will ensure that information flow is facilitated in a manner consistent with the short-, intermediate- and long-term goals and objectives of the organization, although this memorandum and the data cited herein should in no way be interpreted to indicate that these goals and objectives are not being effectively implemented currently, but rather that this will invoke additional means to the end and will further coalesce resources already at our disposal.

Forgiveness

If someone wrongs you, then later offers a sincere apology, it can be possible, if not easy to accept the apology and move on – i.e., forgive them. But what if they never do their part to make things right? Then you find yourself in the murky area of forgiveness, which seems to be a vast, perplexing area.

Can you forgive someone who doesn’t ask for forgiveness? Maybe they don’t know or accept that they need it. Maybe they know but don’t want it. Would forgiving them absolve them?

Even with a lifetime of attending church and studying the Bible, plus a master’s degree from a theological school that included training in pastoral counseling, I struggle with understanding “forgiveness.” I suspect I’m not alone.

In the Lord’s Prayer, we ask God to forgive us as we forgive those who wrong us. If we expect God to forgive us, we should be willing to forgive others. But there are differences between Divine forgiveness and human forgiveness.

Believers see God’s forgiveness as unconditional, available to anyone who asks for it, regardless of the wrongdoings. We are absolved of our sins and can start again with a clean slate.

We humans, though, are not divine. When we attempt to forgive someone, emotional and psychological factors come into play. We don’t necessarily want to let someone “off the hook.” Yet the pain someone has caused us won’t go away while we remain angry. Vengeful thoughts vex only us. It’s the proverbial drinking of the poison that you intend for the other person.

You have to ask God for forgiveness but can be assured it will be granted. If you ask another person for forgiveness, it might not be granted. Also, a person might forgive someone who doesn’t ask for it. In fact, it can be a good idea to do so, because that can get rid of that poison that is affecting only you.

That in no way cleans their slate. That’s not our job, even if it we wanted it to be. What it does do is take away the power they have over you. It allows you to recognize the pain you are feeling and to avoid (or stop) letting it define you. This can have a positive effect on your health and peace of mind, whether or not the other person ever understands and accepts that they have wronged you.

It is possible that forgiving someone may lead to understanding and empathy for them. So much the better if it does, but even if it doesn’t, it’s still worthwhile to forgive, for all the good it can do you.

What if the person you need to forgive is you yourself?

The health benefits of self-forgiveness are similar to those derived from forgiving others. Yet, I doubt I’m the only person who sometimes finds it can be more difficult to forgive oneself.

While getting another person to change is not a goal in forgiving them, self-forgiveness necessarily involves owning your wrongdoing and admitting that you might need to change. That can be difficult, more so if you aren’t ready to change.

Sometimes those not ready to change may choose to gloss over their behavior in a sort of artificial self-forgiveness.

Another cautionary note is that even true self-forgiveness can reduce one’s empathy for those they’ve wronged. Just because you feel better doesn’t mean they do, too. Experts recommend consciously practicing empathy with those we’ve hurt even as we forgive ourselves for doing so.

Please note that people who unnecessarily blame themselves for something outside their control are not candidates for self-forgiveness. They need to work on and let go of their unfounded guilt. They may also need to forgive someone else.

I am finding it helpful to identify the anger I feel about certain occurrences. In reflecting on past hurts that linger, I am starting to realize, “Oh, that’s someone I need to forgive.” I am working toward the next step: in fact forgiving them.

If it’s something about which I am angry at myself, I sometimes remind myself, “That was X years ago.” Whatever the time frame, I realize that no one else may even remember the incident and, even if someone does remember, it may well not make any difference to them now. I also have begun to say to myself “It’s OK to make mistakes” or “You are not expected to be perfect” at appropriate times.

Forgiveness, whether of others or oneself, often is difficult. The degree of difficulty may depend on how bad the act hurt or how long the grudge has been held. It takes work and practice. Talking with someone, at least a trusted friend if not a professional is often a good idea.

___________________
An internet search for “forgiveness” will yield a plethora of sources. Here are some I consulted:
— https://www.gotquestions.org/forgive-forgiven.html
—https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/adult-health/in-depth/forgiveness/art-20047692
—https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/topic/forgiveness/definition#why-practice-forgiveness
—https://www.scripturesshare.com/what-is-gods-forgiveness-vs-human-forgiveness/
—https://www.verywellmind.com/how-to-forgive-yourself-4583819
—https://www.bostonimp.com/post/the-link-between-forgiving-others-and-forgiving-yourself
This analysis of Don Henley’s song, “The Heart of the Matter,” which is about forgiveness, is interesting and may be helpful:
— https://melodyinsight.com/don-henley-the-heart-of-the-matter-lyrics-meaning/

Things you didn’t know I invented

If I were the subject of a Wikipedia page, I would hope it would list three important contributions I have made to modern culture. I invented the blitz in football, the musical genre folk rock and, in the world of fashion, wash and wear clothing. At least, as far as I know I did.

Trying to gasp football’s nuances

I began my very brief interscholastic football career in 1959 as a 7^th grader. The coach put me at linebacker, and I played every defensive down of every game that season.

The instructions I got on how to play the position and feedback on how I did were limited. At best. I did know that linebackers stood up, unlike linemen. I did understand that the point of defense was to keep the other team from advancing the ball. I deduced that I should go all out to stuff any attempted advancement as quickly as possible.

So, I did my best to get directly to the ball the moment it was snapped. I had never heard the word “blitz,” but that’s what I did. On every single play the whole season. In later years, I began to hear about blitzing as I followed college and pro football. I recognized the technique.

Sometimes we switched from a five- to a seven-man line, in which case I dropped into a lineman’s stance. I still went straight for the ball, but I guess that was not a blitz since I was crouched instead of standing.

Was louder better?

My first guitar was a Silvertone, a brand produced and sold by Sears for not-a-lot-of-money. It was your basic acoustic six-string. As I learned to play and began doing some performing, I wished I could graduate to an electric guitar.

My playing and singing at that time fell into the folk music category, including a lot of traditional tunes and maybe even more Kingston Trio numbers.

Eventually, I was able to get an electric guitar. I continued playing and singing the same songs. There you had it. Folk music accompanied on a rock instrument, a few years before Dylan showed up at the Newport Folk Festival with an electric guitar.

Curating my clothes

Then I invented wash and wear. Not permanent press. Wash. And. Wear.

As I began college, I wore to class clothes we called “Ivy League” style (which later became known as “preppy”), the pants and shirts being clean and pressed. After classes, I went back to my dorm room, changed and carefully hung the good clothes in the closet. With such limited wear, each shirt and pair of slacks came up in the rotation a few times in between appropriately spaced trips to the cleaners.

That was OK for a time. But was it worth the time (multiple clothing changes each day) and money (cleaners’ fees) to look preppy in class? I decided it wasn’t. Following my new plan, I just washed everything, dried it and then wore it.

How not to get invited back

Growing up, most of us learned how to be polite and gracious to other people. Pretty much everyone I know seems to have the basics down, especially when visiting in others’ homes. Yet, it still happens, so I am told, that some guests find ways to be annoying.

Here are some purely hypothetical situations in which a guest might ensure they won’t be invited back — specific examples from which we all might extrapolate general lessons.

For instance, someone who tends to carry a chip on their shoulder might do well to leave that chip in their car during the visit.

Another example that comes to mind is trash talking. Some people enjoy engaging in this banter. Some don’t. If the guest is the former, it’s probably a good idea to make sure the host isn’t the latter.

But what if it goes beyond banter, and value judgments enter in? Say you happen to mention, in casual dinner conversation, that you are a fan of a certain professional sports team. Then, the person you’ve welcomed into your home suddenly looks and sounds incredulous as they ask if you used to live where that team is based. The look turns to angry when you say, no, you just always liked the team.

As you redirect the conversation back to its original track, which others at the table seem to follow, that one person’s glare reminds you of the way an aging chihuahua looks just before attempting to bite. Not a good look for anyone, but especially a house guest. I suppose something like this could happen. I don’t know.

Or maybe someone comes into your home, sees a work of art and launches into an unsolicited explanation of it, implying you are clueless on the subject. Maybe they proclaim something that (they think) makes them sound learned, offering information that may not be well known to the general population, but which someone who owns the artwork likely would know. Such a pronouncement might be contrary to what most of us learned about manners from our parents.

That one may fall in the “shoulder chip” category, which brings to mind another tip. Say, the guest is from a different, though delightful area of our great nation. If they speak with a distinct, maybe even jarring accent, yet make fun of the way people speak in the area in which they are visiting, that can get tiresome. If they direct their ridicule at their host, they might not be hosted again in the future.

Or it could be that you take guests on a tour of your area. They might graciously relate some things you show them to similar sites where they live. Fair enough. Just trying to identify. But it might be over the line if they begin to go into such detail that it begins to sound as if they are guiding you through their stomping grounds rather than vice versa. I suppose it could even happen that you are showing them the campus of your alma mater, and they constantly redirect the focus of the conversation to a college in their town, maybe even without having any direct connection to it. That could take it to yet another level.

Sometimes guests mean well, bless their hearts, but don’t understand boundaries. I’ve heard of ones who see something in their host’s home that they somehow think needs their attention, maybe some adjustment or minor repair, and take it upon themselves to tackle the job — without a word of discussion with the host. If the offer is made, the host might welcome the help. On the other hand, you don’t mess with someone’s stuff without asking. And there may be some crucial background information of which the guest isn’t aware.

Just some general illustrations. You probably can imagine or maybe have witnessed others. Doing something similar to one or more of these for-instances could undercut our “pleases” and “thank yous.” A quote attributed to Ben Franklin says, “Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.” Sometimes the fish may outlast the guests.

Can a birthday be belated?

If I neglect to wish you a “Happy Birthday” until a day or two later, it is my greeting that is belated. Your birthday connotes the date on which you were born, not the day on which I acknowledge this.

Yet one sees the phrase “Happy Belated Birthday” often. (Too often for me.) Most people probably know it is the good wishes that are belated, not the birthday itself, despite the ubiquitous appearance of the misplaced modifier.

No, you do not and cannot change the date of someone’s birthday by being late with your celebration of it.

I am not, however, saying that a birthday cannot be belated. Let me share an example close to my heart.

Ten years ago, we were anticipating the birth of our first granddaughter. There seemed to a good chance she would be a very special Valentine for all of us. When that didn’t happen, I was fine with having her be a very, very special birthday present for me two days later. Then, well, OK, for her mother’s birthday on the 20th. But no. She was finally born on the 25th.

Now that was a belated birthday.

Translations

A song I’ve enjoyed since my adolescence, when I followed and tried to emulate Rick Nelson, asserts, “I believe what you say when you say . . . .” It’s a positive idea that, as you know, doesn’t apply in all situations. When some people say some things, believing them may not be the best choice.

While mulling over this idea recently, I happened upon and read an article in American Scholar (Winter 2005), “Granaries of Language,” by Ilan Stavans. Among many other interesting things, the article talks about how meanings of words develop, are codified and sometimes evolve. (Quite a few words were made up by great writers.)

Being as devoted to words these days as I was to early rock and roll back in the day (full disclosure: I still am), I was drawn to an article about the dictionary.

I’m not about to try to write my own dictionary (or encyclopedia or glossary, the differences being mirky, the referenced article notes), but reading the article did lead me to write about some definitions of a few words and phrases in common use today. We’ve all heard them since before the days of social media, but now all the online chatter makes them almost impossible to avoid.

There are many from which to choose. Here’s a sample.

The word “nobody” often means “I.” And often enough so does “everybody.” You’ve likely heard someone express their own personal negative sentiments, “Nobody likes/thinks/wants to/does thus-and-so.” One also might hear similar acclamations with “everybody.”

Perhaps they think it adds credibility to their opinions if they claim the whole world agrees with them.

“Only in [name of place]” means “is so typical of [name of place.]” It is likely that whatever it is happens other places as well. In fact, people in those places may sometimes say “only in [our local.]”

“I hate to tell you” generally means “I am enjoying telling you.” It could be that prefacing the remark this way may even increase their enjoyment of saying it. I.e., “twisting the knife.”

Closely related is “just saying.” It means, “I’m pretty sure I just put you in your place.”
This one is enhanced by irony, because the speaker is, in fact, doing more than “just saying.” They think they have enlightened you on some important matter and done so eruditely.

Conversely, there’s “you’re right.” Well, not so converse, because it means, “I share that opinion.” Or, “Good for you for agreeing with what I think.”

This is not far removed from “I’m sure.” This can often enough be taken literally. They read it in a reliable source, witnessed it, experienced it first-hand or have similar valid reasons. Yet sometimes a grain or two of salt may be needed when we hear “I’m sure.” It can also mean “I imagine” or “I want to believe.”

You know what? I’m going to go out on a bit of a tangent to wrap up. No, you didn’t know. I didn’t think you did. “You know what?” doesn’t need translating as do the words noted above, but it deserves a comment in this discussion. It’s a way to introduce a new thought when, for some reason, one can’t merely say it straightaway.

Maybe there’s awkwardness involved. I recall an instance when the wrong song was played at a family pool party, and the person in charge tried to cover their embarrassment with an explanation that began, “You know what?”

Sometimes the phrase may be intended to soften the blow of a shocking idea. Or perhaps it’s used to give a mundane idea more gravity.

I fully admit I am doing more than “just saying” these things. I’m venting but also hoping some people might enjoy reading what I had to say. I don’t think “everyone” will, though I don’t know for certain. I wish I could say I’m “sure” that “nobody” will dislike it.