Places forget people

Places have a way of forgetting people.

As of today the place we have called “our home” now belongs to someone else. Place we inhabit become a subconscious part of our identity.

Places, however, have no memory. This house will not remember Joy and me or the happy years we spent here. To the people who bought 310 Union St it is just an empty space for them to use, just as it was for us when we moved in. As I was cleaning the basement I came across old writing in cement:

“DEC. 5, 1977 LAURA

I had seen the scrawled letters before, but as I am packed to leave I became curious about this person who had lived in my home, writing her name in the drying cement almost 30 years ago –just a few weeks before I was born. I wonder where Laura is now, or even if she is still living. Had she been a girl she would still likely be in her 40's now. If she was an adult at the time she could be quite elderly now. I wonder how her life turned out. I wonder if she remembers scrawling her name in wet concrete of this basement three decades ago?

The impersonal nature of the world always feels cruel to relational creatures such as ourselves. We want the physical world to remember us, to hold some evidence of our lives. Perhaps this relational nature even more than superstition makes us imagine ghosts of people who lived in our spaces long ago still inhabit them. This is the reason we leave monuments bearing our names throughout the world? Of course, none of this matters. People in the future will look back on our names as dull and empty symbols.

No object or place can maintain a relationship. We all eventually move on. A few hundred years from now and no one will know that any of us ever existed. Those who are remembered only can only hope to become lifeless notes in historical records –a historical figure: the exact opposite of a person, who lives, and loves, and hopes. Even still we hold on tightly...

I marked on the pavement beside Laura's inscription:

“JOHN & JOY: 2004-2007”

My Politics

Almost a year ago I mentioned the Consistent Life Movement as a idea that intrigued me. I've thought about it a good bit and I am fairly certain now I have converted to Consistent Life Politics:

My ideas about politics and policy have been changing. While this shift in my thinking began long before I discovered the Consistent Life website, it has been comforting to realize that others are arriving at the same place. At this point the main focus of my voting and civic involvement is changing ours to a society that does not kill.

Unfortunately most social/political dialog in our nation appears to be mostly on economics (Capitalism vs. Socialism) or citizen rights and responsibilities (Conservativism vs. Liberalism). While economics and rights are important, I believe we lose sight of more central values. All these popular ideologies seem to assume that intentionally destroying other human beings (in one form or another) is necessary for achieving social good. Looking at a history of civilization there are a few bloodthirsty madmen, but many more have been killed by people with good motives believing a better world would be created by removing certain others.

“We would be safer if we kill those who might attack us in the future... Our lives would be better if we have the right to kill a fetus... We would be upholding justice by killing a murderer... We can be kind to a suffering or disabled patient by killing them... Think of all the cures we might get from killing unwanted embryos... The world would be a good place if we could just get rid of the Jews, Blacks, Whites, Hispanics, Capitalists, Communists, Homosexuals, Muslims, Christians, Atheists, etc.”

Before you know it creating a better world ends up making the world much worse. More than any Right vs. Left political allegiance, I have begun wish we could change into a society that agreed to kill no other human being no matter how insignificant or bad that person might be.

In the post about Hussein's execution Chris McCartney asked “But was it Just?” Yes, as a Christian I have to acknowledge the justice of “the wages of sin is death.” My entire hope for redemption is based on an execution/sacrifice. (Although, the fact that Scripture teaches that all who ever sin deserve death makes me wonder how such just killing could every be accomplished by any society) Morality is different from policy, although they should be related. Recognition that greed, gluttony, smoking, or adultery are wrong does not necessitate that it is good for our society to make them crimes. Similarly believing that a despicable person or group of people deserves do die is quite different from claiming we should kill them. Similarly, it may be true that it would be “better” for many people if we killed an inconvenient minority. Any benefit (real or imagined) or removal of threat no matter how great does not justify the crimes we commit against those few. If we could cure poverty by eliminating the poor, could we really imagine we had done any real good for our society?

At this point the only justification I could imagine for killing another human would be self-defense (in the face immediately attack: not preemptively or retroactively) and even then, as Chris pointed out, we should be "saddened by death even if it is justified," rather than celebrating such violence.

As a convert to Consistent Life politics, I am no Utopian who imagines that somehow making these changes in our policy would suddenly create a society of perfect harmony and happiness. The human condition will always be deeply flawed, and humans will still suffer and someday die. I also recognize that spiritual redemption is far more valuable physical life. These policy changes, however, could be attainable if the political will existed. If it is the duty of a citizen to improve his government, then spreading and supporting Consistent Life is what I will do for my country.

I don't know if I yet have a great argument that would convince others that it is good policy for our government and society to abstain from all killing. (I realize that a majority of my argument above is “slippery slope”) I still ask myself how much of my shift towards supporting total non-violence is based on personal emotion. Over the recent years I have seen a lot of people die, which has no doubt affected me. I also wonder how my feelings on lethal force might be now if the war in Iraq had gone as smoothly and Iraq were now stable? I wonder if my own fear of losing the person I love the most (my wife) and the prospect of having children of my own have lessened my ability to accept the sacrifice of any life? Emotion does play a role in my change of mind, but in whose mind is emotion not a part of understanding truth?

While I still have a lot of contemplation on this subject to do, I feel certain enough to declare that these are my politics. As far as I know I am in a very small minority, and I must give up on finding any home in Democratic or Republican Parties. But several hundred years ago those who opposed slavery were a similarly small minority, and now the almost the whole world has accepted their policies.

Weariness

I've been in the hospital a lot lately (hence the lack of recent posts). It is interesting to reflect that my formal medical training ends in 4 months. Nearing the end of almost a decade dedicated to becoming a physician I feel more weary than anything. I came in an idealistic young man, certain there could be no better way to "help people" than being a doctor.


I still love the actual experience of caring for my patients, but in the real world paperwork is the majority of my job. About 60-70% my day is filling out forms and notes documenting medical care. All this paperwork is governed by so many laws and regulations that mistakes in paperwork could end up hurting my patients or having me lose my medical license or get sued. I still hold to the ideals that drove me into this field, but as I look for a job I find that there are very few places that I can practice the kind of medicine that I had hoped. Even volunteer opportunities to serve seem out of reach. (I recently got turned down by two places I where offered to work a month for free.)


The disconcerting reality is that this is more a job than a calling, an often exhausting and frustrating job. In this job most of my time and energy will end up being put into insuring the practice I join stays financially stable and doesn't get sued. Do well at this and you might get 10% of your time to do that "making a difference in people's lives" stuff I dreamed about as an 19 year-old when I suffered through Organic Chemistry in order to graduate pre-med.


A decade ago I had seemingly endless energy and idealism. Now I'm tired, in debt, and skeptical about how much good a doctor can actually do. I can't help but wonder, if I might have invested the last 10 years of my life better doing something else.


Hopefully, this is just a phase I'm going through --the uncertainty of starting out to practice on my own after so many years of training. The idealist and optimistic 19 year-old inside of me says that once I start practicing I'll find out again that I love this job and wouldn't want to do anything else. I hope he's right.

The Death of Community

My sense of isolation after talking to the homeless man the other day reminded me of this that I wrote about a year ago. Perhaps a bit more organized discussion of modern isolationism:

Modern advances in transportation and communication have changed many of the basic ways humans live together, by giving people the ability to move and speak long distances with ease. For much of history a most human society was composed of small tribes or towns. People rarely left family and friends behind. The people someone interacted with and saw everyday were the people he had known his whole life.

This is no longer the case. Today the adult American moves many times in a lifespan, and lives far from his extended family and old friends. The people he works around are not the people he lives near, and neither his co-workers or his neighbors are his friends. Our American ideal of "individualism" teaches us that, despite our loves and friendships, life is essentially a solitary act. Our modern cities are usually not large communities, but places where thousands of individuals live in isolation. TV and entertainment distract us from spending time with each other. Instant communications allow us to connect with those we know who are thousands of miles away, but it also allows opportunities to hide ourselves. Long ago an isolated human was an exception; now isolation is the rule.

The isolated modern man can become a master of disguise. He can hide his pain, his failure, his disappointments quite easily. He can present different versions of himself at work, at home, with neighbors, in church, and to distant family and friends thousands of miles away. This is something people years ago who were rooted in tightly-knit communities could not have done very easily. The isolated individual at first embraces this isolation. It protects him from showing his weakness and flaws to others, but before long he realizes that there is no longer anyone who knows or understands him. Before he knows it he has descended into loneliness and despair.

Suspicion and Isolation

Last night I saw a homeless man bundled on a bench downtown, a rare sight here in Kingsport. It was already well below freezing and late. It was obvious the old man would spend the night outside. I remembered that as a younger man I would have gone to help a suffering person, but older and more suspicious I went to my car. I had plenty of space in my warm home, but strangers could be dangerous.

As I drove away I realized that with my wife out of town the standard excuse that “I can't endanger my family to help a stranger” couldn't be used. The fact that I might leave an old man to suffer to defend only my property made me feel a bit sick to my stomach. It was more shame than kindness that made me turn my car around.

“Hi, do you have a place to sleep?”

“No.”

“If you need a warm place to stay tonight, you can stay at my house.”

At first the old man seemed to smile then frowned again. “No thank you.” It was odd to realize that this man who I had so distrusted also viewed me as a potentially dangerous stranger.

“You sure? It's pretty cold.” He nodded. I waved good-bye, “Okay. God Bless.”

The grizzled old man pulled his coat tighter around him. “I have no god but myself. Thank you though.”

I drove home alone, and watched TV until I fell asleep. I used to hate TV, but these days it is my most frequent companion. I'm sure his night on the bench was miserably cold. It is tragic how isolated we have become in the modern world. For social creatures we are extraordinarily distrustful and detached from each other. We shun each other and even shun God. Our individualism doesn't result in much happiness, just coldness.

The Execution of Saddam Hussein

Saddam Hussein was executed for crimes against humanity last night. Certainly Hussein is an example of the worst sort of criminal, but I cannot help but feel this was pitiful and unnecessary. None of the evil things he did are undone by his execution. He would have died eventually and answered to God for his sins without us taking his life.

In my job I see a lot of people die. I watched a man die at the hospital yesterday. My response to the news was the same as I felt in the hospital: Sorrow. Even with my political opposition to the death penalty, I had not expected to be saddened by the death of someone as horrible as Hussein. I suppose my eyes are too full of seeing death. I want no part in killing, even those who “deserve death.”

The Internet and Identity (Dishonesty in blogging)

With all the fuss these days about personal information on the internet, it is interesting to reflect on the "internet self" many of us create for friends or strangers to see. It seems all this self-expression thrown out into the voyeuristic world of the web, often serves more to hide one's self than reveal. Here is a piece of my journal from a few months back:

It is odd to realize, now that I have my website for publishing thoughts I don't write nearly as much as I did before. Each thing I write is analyzed as it is written: How would this fit on my web page? I seem to have lost that freedom of writing without the burden of a potential audience.

My site is personal, but it is not private. While I never cared too much about my privacy, I do care what people think of me. I know people who read it. I want them to continue to think well of me. I want people who visit my site to find it impressive. All the thoughts are mine, but they are a tiny fraction of what I have written in my life. I choose things I think might be interesting or thought-provoking for those who would visit the site.

But isn't it also true that I choose things that might make me look more intelligent, honest, moral, and artistic than I actually am? The things I keep out of the internet version of myself is the lazy, hedonistic, petty, contradictory, and selfish. The digital "Jonathan Davis" contained in Google, Blogger, and MySpace is, I fear, quite different from the man my wife knows. It is perhaps a fiction similar to the "good doctor" I created my intern year. I think I am growing closer now to the doctor I had hoped to be now. Will the discussions on my blog improve me in a similar way? As a young doctor I think the concealment was a necessary part of the process. But is there any need for concealment on the web other than my sense of pride?

I remind myself that I created my site for discussion of ideas not revelation of character flaws. Private writing and prayer to God is the proper place for confession of sins. Neither I do enough of now. I also doubt the honesty of what I have written now, considering I am likely to eventually post it on my site.

Monty Python and the Modern World

Perhaps the Brits have the most interesting take on the world in which we live. And now for something completely different:

I just figured out what makes Monty Python so much better than any other light comedy. How sad it is! Beneath all the silly absurdity there is a deep, brooding sadness. What makes all the stupid jokes and acts funny is that it is so self-conscious. An idiotic joke is told and immediately it is ridiculed for its idiocy, then the ridiculer is himself revealed as another bad joke. The show becomes fluid as one skit flows into another, as the characters try to escape each ridiculous skit looking for one that is finally funny, but none of them ever work. The result is hilarious. They make fun of their own inability to make anything really funny. It is like watching an obese person make fat jokes; you laugh even harder because of how pitiful it is. You laugh because you are embarrassed.

Monty Python is the ultimate modern comedy. Ancient Comedies ended with joy and celebration. Monty Python mocks the whole idea of joy. It mocks the idea that a man could be whole or wise.

I had previously tried to explain my deep appreciation for Monty Python humor by saying that it is good satire. The problem is that it isn't good satire. (Anyway I couldn't figure out how satire that mostly focused on British society before my birth would be my favorite comedy.) Satire is never as funny as this. Satire has hope. Satire takes the moral high ground as it laughs at the wrongs of the world. Monty Python is a satire of a satire of a satire ...an endless labyrinth of ridicule. They may laugh at the world but not from a vantage point of wisdom. These modernists are most acutely aware they have no access to wisdom. They demonstrate the absurdity of the world, then they laugh at the absurdity of their own demonstration. In the end the joke is on you. You laugh at yourself. You laugh at the absurdity of yourself. You don't laugh because you are happy; you laugh because you are self-conscious.

Monty Python is more than simple comedy. It is a visual demonstration of the philosophies of despair. Generations before last century wouldn't have understood or laughed. We laughed harder than our parents. Most likely future generations will laugh deeper than us. They may laugh so hard that they cry.

*For more Monty Python you really should see The Spanish Inquisition Show, The Silliest Sketch Ever, or the Philosophy World Cup.

Americans in the Modern World

Americans have always been a reactionary people. We have always reacted strongly to the world, and stirred strong reactions from the world. I don’t think we have quite realized that the modern world with its ills is mostly a creation of our unique republic. Perhaps one of the most interesting things about Americans is how we react to each other, blaming each other for the way the world has become. I jotted down a few impressions about regional America in a gridbook after a road trip a few years back:

Northeasterners despise the modern world in which they live. They see nothing better to do than make money and engage each other in class warfare. They wear black and carry themselves like Europeans, avoiding eye contact with strangers.

The people of the West Coast try to ignore the modern world by creating an imaginary world. They love Mother Earth, technological virtual realities, and produce most of the country's pornography. They try to avoid negative thoughts and trust psychotherapists.

Southerners try to acknowledge the modern world as little as possible, preferring culture that resembles the medieval. Southerners read historical novels, fly offensive Confederate flags, and sing songs that praise "old time religion." They are sentimental, hot-blooded, and irresponsible.

Midwesterners just can't figure out what is wrong with the rest of the country. The Midwesterners don't have problems with the modern world. They can grow up, get a job, get married, and grow old and senile in the modern world without causing such a bothersome fuss. They live where the country is flat. They live with neither mountains nor trees.

Joy

Wednesday is my wife's birthday. For the almost 8 months I have run this blog I have kept the simple commandment “thou shalt not blog about your wife (especially when she is a very private person)”

But with all the other essays and notes I have written in these pages, I cannot let a day like this pass without acknowledging the brilliant and beautiful woman who has shared my life and made me a better man. As she has recently been far away, my appreciation for how blessed I am to be her husband has only deepened.

I wrote the note below in my journal after our first year of marriage. It is even more true now than it was then:

I live an amazing romance –as beautiful as it is improbable. To love each other so passionately and honesty. To have a woman as lovely and wise as my Joy... to look forward and back through the years and see nothing but her smiling face... to always catch her tears when she cries... it is more than anything I could imagine. If I read it in a book or saw it in a movie I would call it a lie –too perfect to reflect any reality. But here I am lying beside her as she sleeps!

*The picture of the little girl is Joy on her 4^th or 5^th birthday. I always smile when I see it.

Christmas Gifts

I got what looked like a catalog in the mail the other day. I was about to throw it away with the rest of the junk mail, when I noticed it wasn't quite the "gift catalog" it seemed. Instead of smiling models it was full pictures of ragged children in the third world. The cover advertised it as "gifts for the person who has everything." The catalog was full of gifts to those in need that you can give as a gift to someone you love. The gifts included such much-needed things as goats, blankets, immunizations, pre-natal care for poor people.

It must have caught me at particularly awkward time, because I began to cry right there on my porch. I had come home from work tired and grumpy. Recently my life of isolation has mostly been alternating numbness and self-absorption. The looming chore of Christmas shopping was a only a joyless burden on our strained finances. Now my beloved niece and nephew who have plenty of toys will be getting wheelchairs for disabled kids in the third world for Christmas. Giving such gifts to those who have nothing is a wonderful way to break us out of the materialistic stupor into which we so easily fall.

Much thanks to World Vision for reminding me that the gift we are celebrating is Christ, the birth of redemption and unconditional love into our sad world. Why do I so easily forget Christ?

You can see the catalog here: www.worldvisiongifts.org

Blood on My Hands (South Dakota)

Most of the fuss over the recent election is likely a lot of noise over nothing, exchanging bad for bad. The real tragedy of this election was the ballot that struck down the South Dakota Abortion Ban. I fear this injustice among us will not end in our lifetime, because in the end we want the ability to terminate those who inconvience us. What finally brought down the ban was that it would protect offspring of rapists from being killed. It reminds me of how even good people want to excuse the deaths of Muslim civilians and children, because they might be relatives of terrorists.

I found something I wrote in the gridbooks during medical school that reflects how I feel today:

On being a pro-life medical student:

Lord Jesus, how eagerly my brothers and sisters rush to shed innocent blood! And I am guilty with them. I cannot deny my hand in this. I have raised my fist and joined in the battle cry of individualism, which deals death the weak, the silent and the inconvenient. How lost we are! How desperately lonely!

And what do I say to them? I understand too well. I have blood on my hands as well. Would I lay down my rights, my life, even my comforts for another person I have never met? I say "yes" but it is only an abstraction. So I am forced to sit and listen as they sing the praises of destruction. I speak, but they respond, "What right do you have?"

I have no right. I am no less a sinner. So I am here among them, alone and shuddering. What have we done? How did we get so lost? Why don't we care about what we have done? How did our compassions become so misguided that even our caring breeds more violence?

How long can this last? How long can we go on neglecting our neighbors and living well at the expense of the weak, poor, and small? The problem is that we can go on this way indefinitely. Our human capacity to misuse each other is almost limitless.