Feeding the Fire

This week I have been thinking about signs and symbols, and three stand out: Salt, Millstones, and Fire.

I have a pretty good sense of what salt does. It accents the essence of food, builds up the taste, and makes the flavor more robust. Some people bathe in salt water for its medicinal powers. It makes a pretty healthy throat gargle too, and it can be mixed with water to clean a surface wound.

From what I have read about millstones, they were pretty handy for grinding wheat and corn, but they are really, really heavy. A few years ago, a 17^th century millstone was found in a creek in Nova Scotia. It was marked with what appeared to be a roughly cut cross. Finding the millstone lead historians to dig further into its origin, but nothing I read was conclusive—just that where millstones are, people must have been.

The third symbol is fire. For most Christians, fire is a symbol of the Holy Spirit, for purity, and for light.

These are all positive metaphors and symbols about salt, millstones and fire.

But each has a negative side. Salt does not really taste very good all by itself. It is a lifeless crystal. It symbolizes something cold, something barren. Who could forget Lot’s wife who turned to look back when angels told her not to.

Millstones are so heavy that, as Jesus put it, if you cause another person to sin, you would be better off to have one placed around your neck and be thrown into the sea. The stone will pull you down. You won’t resurface.

Two symbols of death—salt and millstone.

Fire, too, is destructive. When I think of fire, I think of hell, torture, and ruin.

Symbols and signs. How important these are to language and idea.

Yesterday, a football team from a school for students who are deaf came to my school to play a game. It was interesting to me to see this team communicate through signs. The players looked to the sideline after every down. Coaches flashed hand signals to talk to the quarterback. He, in turn, used hand signals to let players know when to snap the ball, and what to do.

It made me wonder about Jesus’ message to his disciples about tearing your eye out. It is all well and good to lose an eye if you have two good ears, but when you rely as much on your eyesight as these boys must in order to play football, …, well, you can see what I mean.

One of the most amazing things about watching that game was the contrast between the two sidelines. A good play by our side was followed by boisterous, jubilant cheers. When a similar play was made by the opposing team, you hardly heard a sound. Instead, players slapped their hands on their pads and clapped. They did not cheer. Those for whom they wished to share their jubilance could not hear.

For two hours, on a high school gridiron, the world seemed different. Half the people present could not hear what the other half was saying.

Maybe the lesson we are supposed to hear today is the one Meister Eckhart had in mind when he thought: The ears I use to hear God, are the same as those God uses to hear me. The eye with which I see God is the eye with which God sees me.

What has any of this got to do with salt, millstones and fire?

I struggled all week with the sentence in today’s Gospel that reads, “For everyone will be salted with fire.” My scholarly exegesis came up rather fruitless. It was the football game that taught me that language can be a stumbling block.

Many of the New Testament scholars I read suggested that the passage is warning us about the eternal punishment that awaits those who lead others astray.

Writing for The CHRISTIAN CENTURY, Loyola professor Stephen Fowl said, “If you are reading this column hoping to get some insight into Mark 9:49-50, you can stop now. These verses are intensely obscure; the commentaries offer little help; neither I nor anyone I know has received a special revelation explaining the text. Let us simply agree to move on to other matters.”

So it was that I found myself sitting in front of my laptop on Saturday night, blurry-eyed and puzzled, when the idea came to me that the stumbling block about this passage is really a matter of the language being used, and when language fails, symbols take over.

I believe that Mark wants us to know that the way of the cross means adding more zest to our lives.

“For everyone will be salted with fire” is how Jesus put it.

Salt: a mineral. Sodium Chloride. A crystal. Edible for humans, but toxic to most small plants. Salt flavors, heals and preserves. But without something to use it with, it is sterile. Think about the Dead Sea. Hardly any living thing can survive in this place, yet for centuries people have visited, dipped themselves into the water, and felt healed.

Salt can be deadly. Salt can be healthy.

Fire—that is what our tongue is. The words we use can be positive or negative. As we have seen these past two weeks, many have used words in very negative ways. They were used to call the president of the United States liar. They were used on a professional tennis court by a pro athlete to berate officials. They were used by a music super star to embarrass the recipient of a major award. Such misuse of words is rude; it is base; and more importantly, it is hurtful.

Salt can be used for good or be a symbol for what is bad.

As for being salted with fire, Jesus seems to be calling us to a higher self than the one we have chosen. He knows that we can be extraordinary, to live with passion and commit to something bigger than ourselves.

One of the promises we live by is that God will never ask us to do something without giving us the power to do it, but it is up to us to offer ourselves, everything about us—sins, passions, mistakes, hopes, selfishness, love—all of these to God, in faith, and, more importantly, with a demand that God take us and do something good with us!

To be salted with fire is to accept the fire that seasons us and makes us more worthy to season and support others.

The fire used is the fire that burns from the wood of the cross. The flames say, “Let go and be purified. Let go of ego and become seasoning for others. Let go of willfulness and begin to serve. Let go of greed and be generous instead. Let go and be broken by and for the sake of one thing—Love.”

Love makes us free. Love shapes each of us into a vessel that God can use to preserve that special salt—salt to heal this broken world. A poem by the late Bishop John Coburn contains the phrase:

“The wood/ of the Cross/ is the best/ for feeding/ the fire/ of love.”

When the wood is consumed, all that is left is the love—the love that we have for God, the love we have for God’s Son, and, through him, the love we have for each other.

The Cost of True Friendship

Old Friends.

True Friends.

Discipleship.

That is what this story is about.

Many years ago, I had a best friend in high school. I am not sure how it happened. Paul lived in the center of town, and my house was on the edge. His house was a 3-story Victorian mansion, built in the 19th century. Ours was a post World War II, single story ranch. But this was the 1960’s. With all due respect to Thomas L. Friedman, the vision of a flat world was beginning to become reality, even then. Perhaps Paul and I became friends because we were students at our high school who liked to build and fix things. We were the same age. We wore leather jackets. We drove Harley Davidsons.

Being friends with Paul was easy, relaxed and natural. I never thought to question the differences in our backgrounds. It just wasn’t an issue. We attended classes during the day, and went to work after school. We usually met at his garage on weekends to work on engines, talk about music, laugh and joke about lots of things, and always imagine the great difference we would make in the world when we got older. I was Patroclus. He was Achilles.

Sadly, I lost touch with Paul after high school. I have not seen or heard from him in over 35 years.

And yet, if you asked me to name one of my best male friends, I would still say Paul. We were alike in so many ways—all the best ways. We were kindred spirits. His friendship pointed me in the way I would eventually go, even though it meant we would part ways.

Today’s gospel reading from Mark reminds us that Jesus did not choose kindred spirits to follow him. He chose strangers. Over a period of roughly three years, Jesus lived, traveled, taught, ate, slept and prayed with men and women from diverse backgrounds. It is not surprising that Jesus sometimes wondered about his relationship with the disciples. At one point he asked them a question: “Who do people say I am?” Taking his question literally, they told him what they thought he wanted to hear. Something along the lines of: “You are a great guy. You are Churchill. You are Ghandi. You are Mother Teresa, Ted Kennedy, Eleanor Roosevelt.”

The disciples chose famous names, sage prophets, someone “other” to impress Jesus with their admiration for him. Realizing that they misunderstood his meaning, Jesus refined the question. He clarified the issue by asking: “Who do you say that I am? What do you think?”

With this question, Jesus changed the relationship he had with his disciples. He taught them that friendship is not one-sided. It has to be mutual.

Friendship is not like membership in a club. You and I can buy a membership—pay a few bucks and get a card that allows us to attend meetings, enjoy meals in a plush dining room, invite guests or clients to play golf and enjoy the facilities.

But friendship is not membership. It cannot be bought. I tried this with my first real girlfriend. I loved her more than anything in the world. I tried everything I knew to win her attention and affection. It didn't work. If you asked her about it now, she would say that it was all for the best. Time heals. People recover.

Real friendship is mysterious, deep, and lasting. One of the paradoxes of real friendship is that, although it cannot be bought, real friendship comes at a price.

The New Testament tells us that Jesus redefined his relationship with the disciples by saying, “I do not call you servants any longer, but I have called you my friends.” (John 15: 15) And the cost of true friendship is this: that his friends must deny themselves and follow him.

This idea will become a core concept of the Christian Life. It will not suffer lip service. It will not accept fair-weather friendship. Jesus says that his true followers, those he calls friends, will deny themselves, endure suffering, experience rejection, and accept death. “Greater love hath no person,” Jesus said “than that he or she lay down his or her life for a friend.” (John 15: 13)

Most of us recoil at this challenge. Like Peter we strive for action, freedom, joy and, most of all, a long life. There are churches that actively preach that joy, riches, popularity, success and long life are God’s way of rewarding those who live “righteous” lives.

While this may be true, Jesus did not teach his disciples to evaluate righteousness by measuring riches, possessions, happiness, success or a long life.

Jesus did not say that his followers should deny joy or success when it comes. He did not require this. What he did say was that to follow him, they must deny themselves.

To deny oneself means to set priorities that matter. Welcoming friends, with no strings attached, because doing so makes us happy, instead of trying to buy happiness to win friends.

If we spend our brief time on this earth striving to achieve self-serving goals, we will never know the true joy that God wills for us.

Unlike our fair-weather friends, true friends suffer when we suffer, pray for us even when they are feeling lost or lonely, stand beside us even when we have made mistakes, pay the ultimate price for us if that is God’s will.

For those of you who think that this is too hard, I offer you this simple fact. Jesus is not asking any of us to forfeit our lives. Rather, he is pleading with us to find our lives. He wants us to know that while many have gotten lost pursuing worldly pleasures, selfish gains, and power, others have found what they were looking for by giving away their time, their compassion, and their empathy.

A wise person once said that we become what we think about. If we continue to spend time striving for happiness, worrying about others who have more, wondering if we have enough worldly stuff, then that need, that craving, will always be with us and we will never be satisfied.

Jesus’ message challenges us to deny the need to gain more. That is what he means by saying that we need to deny ourselves.

The other side of this challenge is the life we find in doing unselfish acts of kindness, in giving more time and money to help the needy, and in being true friends to those around us.

Sometimes denying oneself offers unforeseen opportunity for truer friendships, and the discovery of more meaningful vocations. In a passage from Mark, Jesus says: "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?” (8: 34-37)

Do you ever feel lost? If so, it may be that, while you may be hoping to find your way, you are looking in the wrong place. Sometimes the best place to start a new search is in an old source. Hymn 711 in the Episcopal Hymnal offers the following suggestion: “Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God, And its righteousness/ And all these things shall be added unto you/ Alleluia. Ask and it shall be given unto you/ Seek and ye shall find/Knock and the door shall be opened unto you/ Alleluia.”

Why Cultural Awareness Matters

A person’s identity, race, class and culture strongly influence his/her ability to learn.

Although I have always believed that students thrive in an environment of safety and inclusion, 30 years in the classroom have taught me that students are more likely to succeed and be happy when they are around others who are like them.

When a person knows that an affinity group exists in the school, then he/she is more likely to focus on the important work taking place in the classroom. On the other hand, when a young person feels marginalized because of his/her ethnicity, background, socio-economic history, sexual orientation, gender, class, race, religion, or any other word used to label a person's identity, then that person will not feel comfortable in the classroom, practice room, or other setting where growth is supposed to happen. Consequently, he/she will not be fully engaged in the process of intellectual, social or emotional maturity that is a student’s right.

It is not enough for a teacher to have his/her awareness of these issues awakened. A teacher must engage in honest and meaningful conversation with colleagues and students about issues of social identity, and, whenever possible, include these issues in course goals and syllabi.

Some of the important innovations a teacher might explore are: To include discussion of multicultural issues in every course; To fight against aversive racism in a school’s hiring and/or admission practices; To work harder to include administrators, families and alumni in identifying and achieving the school’s diversity goals; To create a mission that embraces diversity and to develop a rationale for such a mission; To make sure that everyone who studies, lives and works for the institution respects its commitment to Diversity, Equality, Freedom and Inclusion, as they are articulated in the school’s mission.

As teachers and leaders, we need to ask ourselves questions like:

• What does it mean to belong?

• Does every member of the school community feel safe and comfortable there?

• When an individual feels alienated, confused or frustrated, does he or she have a safe place to go? an advocate to talk to?

Many schools pay lip service to diversity and acknowledge the value of including multicultural perspectives in their activities, traditions, and curriculum, but more can be done. Education is a basic human right, and it is the job of everyone, not a school’s diversity directors, to provide an excellent secondary education to every student.

Schools must establish and uphold the principles of justice, peace and respect for very human being. It is a promise they make and a responsibility they accept as soon as the first child steps through the front door each year. On every level, from preschool toddlers to school boards to the U.S. Secretary of Education, we must diligently seek and actively create, vibrant and diverse school communities, such that all students feel inspired to develop and pursue their individual talents. This means having a curriculum rooted in multicultural practice; it means asking students to investigate concepts from multiple perspectives; and it means that students, faculty and staff must come from many different cultures and backgrounds.

Schools can get better, and they will get better when they commit to the simple truth that cultural awareness matters.

Teen Leadership Potential

When teenagers talk about leaders they wish to emulate, they often choose a parent or a teacher. When discussing the reasons why they make this choice, they describe the actions of the person. They notice how the person behaves on the outside. They say things like: "My dad is outgoing and he speaks his mind.", "My mom is assertive, caring and consistent."

When teenagers talk about friendship, they want someone who cares about who they are on the inside. "A friend," they will say, "knows what I am really like, and still wants to be my friend. A friend sticks around when the hard times come. A friend cares about me no matter what. A friend doesn’t tease me to make him/herself look or feel better. Friends stay close. Friends are rare. Friends are with us for life."

It is easy for teenagers to confuse friendship with popularity. Why? What is the difference between friendship and popularity? Why do some teenagers seek to be with the popular kids, even though they do not feel close or friendly with them? How can we steer them toward the resources around them (teachers, counselors, advisors, friends, coaches, parents, siblings) to help them lead by example and not chase after popularity for selfish reasons?

The best way I know is to get teenagers talking about their role models. When asked to describe a good leader, they say things like: "A good leader does not have to be the one elected team captain. A good leader does not have to be the most popular student, a class officer, or the person with the highest grades. A good leader leads by example, even without a title, and does not seek recognition."

Leadership may be easy to define, but it is hard to teach. There are no shortcuts to good leadership. It takes practice. Someone once said, "Leadership is ten percent inspiration and ninety percent perspiration." I believe the effort is worth every drop.

Last month the New York Times published an article that noted one billion teenagers alive in the world today. That's about one-sixth of the world's population. Imagine the potential of that human resource. If every teenager could influence just six other non-teens, and that influence emphasized the Golden Rule, the world could not help but be transformed from selfish to selfless.

Imagine a world where teenagers join one another in a common mission to make the world better through selfless, committed, compassionate, responsible leadership. Imagine that.

Opening Day

Today is Opening Day at my school. Parents and students arrive both excited and apprehensive about the year ahead. Sometime this afternoon parents will say goodbye to their children. They will choose their parting words carefully.

The voice a parent uses at this time is a sacred voice. When they speak to their children, they speak from personal experience to the boy or girl they themselves once were. It is a timeless voice, but it is made in order that the child might live into the richness of the present with hope for a better future.

When parents talk this way, children should listen, for their parents are talking to the sacred, to the very holiness of a child's being.

It is ironic that children find these conversations uncomfortable.

“I know, dad. I hear you, mom. I know. I know. I know. I KNOW! Please don’t do this. I don’t want to talk about this now!”

Nevertheless, parents, guardians, grandparents, and all those who care about their children, persist. They want them to know that they are worthy of the opportunities they have. They want them to make their lives extraordinary.

Carpe Diem. Seize the Day. Be the best you can be. This is the message parents give their children. Although a child might not realize it now, in time, they will be grateful for the dreams their parents hoped to inspire in them.