It’s been difficult to follow the in’s and out’s of this weeks hearings – too many online narratives are spun, taken out of context, etc., so I watched as much of the live broadcast as I could.

I didn’t have time to watch the whole thing, but did listen to a big chunk of it. In the reflections that follow, I’m sure some details will be missing, and some perspectives skewed, as they are for all of us. And because of the way I approach politics, and my posture regarding the current administration, some things will get more emphasis than they should.

Sorry in advance.

To be sure, you won’t agree with everything, and I beg for any corrections, additional information, etc. I’m writing this morning because I’ve come to value dialogue across party lines more than I used to. The greatness of our country subsits in our united-ness before anything else, something that’s been fast eroding lately.

So please, comment below and let me know what I’ve missed. I’ll listen. But I also ask that you share your perspective without insult or accusation. Disrespect has no place in political discourse, especially if you want the other person to listen, and if you share my emphasis on the importance of unity.

Regarding impeachment, most importantly, we don’t have inarguable proof of a quid pro-quo. There are no letters, tapes, emails, etc. of Donald Trump saying, with his own mouth,”Withhold aid from Ukraine until they investigate the Bidens.”

This, understandably, is the biggest area of pushback from the minority.

The majority, however, isn’t thwarted by this. There are too many government employees, charged with the care of the US/Ukraine relationship, who are firmly convinced, based on what they saw/heard, either directly from Trump, or “simple math,” or whatever, that a quid-pro-quo happened.

Each of these witnesses spoke of the global importance of Ukraine’s success, and of her relations with the US. So when aid suddenly stopped, with no explanation, people passionately asked “why?” and got no answer. When they begged their superiors to resume aid, crickets.

It took some time for them to realize that the stoppage coincided with Trump’s request/expectation that the President of Ukraine announce an investigation into Joe Biden’s involvement with the Ukrainian gas company, Burisma. According to these witnesses, the president didn’t ask for an investigation, only the announcement of one.

Each one of these folks, closer and more committed to the action than you or I, became increasingly convinced that the aid stoppage was a pressure tactic from the Trump administration. According to ambassador Taylor’s statement, a Ukranian official, Alexander Daniuk, then Secretary of the National Defense Council in Ukraine, stated that Zelensky didn’t want to be a pawn in the US reelection campaign.

Even the Ukrainians were feeling this.

The minority countered with, “Ukraine is corrupt, the money was held until they could get their act together.”

I can’t do any simple math to get this to work. Ukraine’s always struggled with corruption, and was following US directives to clean things up. My understanding is that they’re less corrupt now than they were when we first gave them aid.

And if the $$ stopped because of corruption, why the silence? Now that the pressure’s on, there are all kinds of statements coming from the White House explaining the stoppage; some legit, but I’m still left wondering where these explanations were when people were begging for them.

Another argument is: “The Biden thing is corruption in Ukraine, we weren’t going after Biden, we were going after corruption.” I can’t swallow this one either. While the Biden thing seems fishy, this isn’t the first time that corruption has gone down in Ukraine.

This is however the first time that the Trump administration has halted aid, while simultaneously asking for an investigation of Trump’s biggest percieved political threat.

What About the Bidens?

Joe Biden’s involvement with Burisma seems fishy to me. His son made $50,000 a month working on the board of directors, while then vice president Biden, point man for Ukraine, threatened to withhold $1 billion in aid until Ukraine fired their prosecutor general.

They did, and the aid never stopped.

Why are the democrats going after Trump while completely ignoring the sins of their own? That’s a great question, and if we deal with it honestly it will lead us into one of the darkest realities about American politics.

If you’re expecting the Democrats to investigate their own, keep dreaming. And before my conservative friends applaud, the same goes for your side of the hill.

This is American politics – Dems have a vested, financial interest in keeping their thing going, so do Republicans. If there’s money/power involved, rest assured that people from both camps will fight for it.

I don’t believe that every democrat and every republican is solely motivated by the survival of their party. Some are, some aren’t. There are good people on both sides.

But when one makes the argument, “Why aren’t the so-and-so’s investing their own so-and-so,” he/she takes a shot to the foot. If Devin Nunez thinks Joe Biden is guilty, or at least worthy of investigation based on the evidence we have, then, by definition, so is Trump.

When you tell the Democrats that they need to investigate Biden, or Hilary, or Obama, you’re simultaneously making the same case for these impeachment hearings.

Ultimately, none of anyone else’s alleged sins have anything to do with whether or not Trump is guilty. Asking, “why aren’t we going after Joe Biden?” is a legitimate question I think, but nigh unto completely irrelevant to Trump’s alleged misdeeds.

To my conservative friends, I ask that you apply the same standard of evidence to DT that you apply to Hilary, Joe, Obama, and all the other liberal miscreants.

Stop Picking on Donald Trump

Ranking member Nunez claimed, over and over, that this impeachment proceeding is just another example of liberals picking on Trump, his prime example being the Russia investigation.

According to Nunez, allegations that Trump colluded with Russia are completely and utterly false.

Bob Mueller, one of the most reputable men in Washington (according to Trump early in the investigation), trusted by most, was charged with looking deeply into these allegations – he stuck his head farther up the hindquarters of this Russia thing than anyone else.

Here’s what He didn’t say:

• • “Donald Trump is Innocent.”
  • “The President is Exonerated.”
  • “Allegations of collusion between DT and the White House are completely and utterly false.”

The investigations were a let down for both parties, neither got what they wanted. But using this as an example of a totally unfounded attempt to discredit the president is ridiculous to me.

In addition, he payed off a prostitute, that bothered a lot of people. He was accused multiple times of sexual assault by women who’ve never accused anyone of sexual assault. We should note that he didn’t sue them for libel, defamation, or slander. It’s a very risky thing to accuse a wealthy, powerful individual of something you can’t prove, and where there are, by definition, no witnesses. Trump could’ve easily won, but didn’t defend his name. God knows it’s not because he’s shy of legal action. Can you blame me for wondering if he didn’t sue any of these people because he’s afraid of what would be dug up in the proceedings?

Trump totally lost me when he was caught on tape glorifying the many virtues of sexual assault. And in his early campain rallies he encouraged his supporters to physically assault attenders who spoke out against him.

On his watch, our country has seen more division than I can remember.

Some of my friends support him and we’re still friends. I try, not always successfully, to listen when we have political discussions. But I’ll ask you to understand why I’m not a fan, why I don’t think he’s good for our country, and why the narrative “Democrats are just picking on Trump” doesn’t stick with me.

I was living in Texarkana when the Clinton impeachment went down. During that time, Gov. Mike Huckabee wrote a book, Character IS the Issue: How People with Integrity can Revolutionize America. It sold like gangbusters among my conservative religious friends – a direct, timely response to the indescretions of Bill Clinton, and the percieved moral erosion of politics and culture in the US.

I agreed with Gov. Huckabee then, and I agree now (although it seems his posture has changed). Integrity matters, and many in our country believe, as I do, that the president is struggling here. Again, I’m fine if you don’t see things as I do, but I’m getting tired of hearing about how people like me just need to see the bigger picture.

From my perspective, he’s not a victim, he’s a person that many in America simply don’t trust. At this point, with all we’ve seen and heard from him, I don’t see that changing.

The Wistleblower

Another prolific minority complaint is that we don’t know who the whistleblower is, i.e., the person who kicked this whole thing off, and that he needs to come forward. Fortunately, his testimony no longer matters, there are more than enough people who’ve corroborated his story.

Aid to Ukraine Has Been Reinstated

Of course it has, and again, with no explanation, and no change in the general trajectory of Ukraine’s corruption issues.

If I had to sum up my experience listening to the impeachment proceedings, I’d say I heard a lot of credible people talking about how they came to believe that a quid pro quo went down, and a lot of people from the minority taking the weak spots of these testimonies and trying to make them sound like the most important thing ( Sondland doesn’t take notes, for example).

Overall, I found the minority’s arguments, accusations, and conclusions lacking in substance. But hey, I’m biased, and no Trump fan, so that’s what I’m supposed to think, right?

I’ll leave this to you to correct, clarify, or outright condemn. I welcome your thoughts, and will happily respond.

If you made it this far, thanx for reading.

We come into this world desperate to be held, loved, cared for. And we’re not ashamed; If we don’t get what we need, we’ll raise hell till we do. We’re not picky, either. It doesn’t matter “who” or “what” you are: looks, religious beliefs, age, politics, etc. We don’t care.

If you’re human, you’re cool – fix me a bottle and rock me to sleep and I’ll love you forever.

Our twilight chapters will be similar. We’ll have lived our lives, chased multiple carrots that left us wanting more, finally ready to admit that people matter more than anything else.

When I die, it won’t be accomplishments or money or whatever that will comfort me as I face the end. It’ll be relationships – those scant chapters when I felt close to someone. Loved.

But sandwiched between the beginning and the end is our life’s pursuit; some future destination believed to define us, set us apart, bring meaning and value to our lives. For most of us, it involves money and/or accomplishment at some level, and, many times, incites us to put relationships in the back seat, or the trunk, or worse.

The farther we walk down this road, the more conditional we become. We won’t simply hang out with anybody. Our friends must be qualified, and our list of qualifications gets longer the further down this road we go.

We’ll have friendships, but they’ll be difficult, as they always are, and because they’re not a huge priority, not nearly as huge as the amazing future life we’re crafting for ourselves, we’ll either stop working to make them good, or give up altogether and walk away, hoping to find that perfect friendship that doesn’t require any work, drama, toxic whatever.

So, in the middle chapters of life, we’ll put some distance between us and the humanity that we’re meant to swim in. We won’t be hermits by any stretch, but we’ll nothing like we were as children, or like we’ll be when we finally realize we’ve lost the plot.

In our middle-chapter quest for something non-human, we’ll lose the true meaning of life so that we might chase something unable to give us meaning, fully convinced that it will.

And we’ll scratch our heads wondering, “why ain’t I happy?”

Enter Jesus, with His bat-sh@t crazy, super-hard-to-follow commandments that are tailor made to drive us back into each other, so that we might recover what it means to truly be us.

Here are a few examples:

“Forgive, even your enemies.” There’s no offense worthy of eternal unforgiveness. And speaking of enemies, we’re supposed to love them too.

“For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the worst sinners you can think of do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the faithless fools of the world do the same? (matthew 5:43-48).”

Jeeze.

“Don’t judge, no matter what (matthew 7:1).” There’s no situation where it’s OK to pass judgment. We can judge people’s actions, but when we downgrade their humanity, call them evil, accuse them of destroying America, etc., because of their behavior, we’ve sinned.

“Don’t exalt yourself above others (matthew 23:12).” I have no comment on this, save the fact that I’m not doing well here. I will note that when I sin here, it forces me to simultaneously, ironically, exalt others above myself, and waffle back and forth between the two, like a tiny boat being tossed on the ocean.

“Be merciful, just like God is merciful (luke 6:36).” Impossible.

“Do not retaliate (matthew 5:38-39)” If we all followed this rule, social media would disintegrate.

All of these pull us closer to each other, removing the barriers (better, mountains) that come between us, so that we might live as we were created to be. Granted, they don’t go down easy, but they work, and ripple far beyond those who eat them.

Many times we refuse what Jesus has piled onto the plate in front of us and head for the stuff that tastes better: judgement, retaliation, anger, bitterness, unsubstantiated rightness – things that drive a wedge into what God’s trying to bring together.

So, it’s helpful for me to reflect on what happens when I do manage to choke down a few of Jesus’ spiritual brussels sprouts.

Here are some examples:

A Better World

When I was a kid, people could do no wrong. I didn’t ruminate on the frailties and failures of others. But I became jaded in the beginning of my middle chapters, and couldn’t seem to see past the junk. Then I entered the christian world and joined a church.

I remember sitting in the back of the sanctuary one sunday morning, looking at all of these people that I believed were holy, devout, good. Then I became a full-time vocational pastor and realized that christians carry as much junk as anyone else, and went back to being jaded.

A few years ago, I realized that my view of people gravely affects my view of the world. If humanity in general seems bad to me: dirty, selfish, mean, immoral, etc., my world seems bad. Even if I’m passing judgment on a small cross section of humanity – people who don’t have the right politics, for example – the world seems like an ugly, dirty, hopeless place.

In those rare events where I take Jesus at His word, and manage to forgive, extend mercy, judge with compassion and truth, etc., humanity’s unsavory bits find redemption in my mind, and the world, oddly, becomes a better place.

This all has a miraculous affect on my ability to be happy. I can’t be a joyful, hopeful person if my world is dirty and mean. Reconciling myself to others via the commands of Christ reconciles me to the true nature of this world, and my ability to find joy.

A better Me

And if humanity’s bad. I’m bad. That’s how this works. If I pass judgment on the very nature of others, I’m passing judgment on myself, blind to my unconditional value. Maybe that’s what Jesus meant when He said, “Don’t judge lest ye be judged.”

I’ve read volumes on how to feel better about myself, find self esteem, self worth, etc. None of these recommend any level of reconciliation with humanity. I’m now convinced that if I can’t see the rest of humanity as good, unconditionally so, I’ll never be able to view myself the way God does.

Talk about being unable to find happiness.

The Overthrown God

Core to the Gospel of Jesus is a deity who’s madly in love with people – all people: all races, creeds, religions, politics. Unconditional. No-boundaries. There is no sin that can get in the way of this – all of that mess was obliterated at great expense.

As His followers, we’re called to be equally overthrown. Jesus’ commandments invite us into a life that will form our minds and hearts into the same unconditional love for humanity that God will always possess, a love that nothing, according to St. Paul, can separate us from.

Anything less is less than human.

We can dive in now, or wait until we’re ragged, wrinkly, and tired, throw up our hands, say “what’ve I got to lose,” and surrender to Jesus’ invitation to become like the children he wants us to be; unconditionally in love, dependent on each other, closer to the oneness that He prayed for on the night of His crucifixion:

“I am not asking on behalf of them [Jesus’ disciples] alone, but also on behalf of those who will believe in Me through their message, that all of them may be one, as You, Father, are in Me, and I am in You. May they also be in Us… (matthew 17:20-21).”

He didn’t pray that we’d all be nice to each other, or that we’d be on the same page, as I’ve heard it preached on so many Sunday mornings. He’s praying that we’d all become one, just like He and God are one, so close that we’re “in” Him, and by implication “in” each other.

That’s an impossible request. What fool would pray such a thing?

And what fool would devote their lives to this level of unconditional oneness with the rest of humanity?

I’d prefer a religion that requires adherence to a few things that are much easier than what’s above, one that makes me feel more “right” that others, and doesn’t get in the way of all the idols I’m chasing in these middle chapters.

My invitation to you, and reminder to me, is to say no to that kind of religion, and consider stepping into the life that Jesus hopes we’ll live. You don’t have to believe in all of the metaphysical stuff, simply consider a small, initial change of trajectory, and be open to bigger steps in the future.

Got a friendship that’s gone south? Feeling estranged from your spouse? Addicted to judging people? Angry at folks who don’t think like you do?

Jesus has a religion he’d like you (and me) to walk more deeply into. Correctly applied, it will end in you being reconciled to you, and to the rest of the world.

That, along with being reconciled to God, is the gospel.

I’m not a pro at this, but I’m better than I was last year, and hope to get a little better in the next. I can attest to the happiness and hope that it’s brought into my life, how it’s rippled beyond me, and that it’s not a waste of time.

If you’ve gotten this far in today’s post, feeling like you might want to try this on, or step more deeply into it, let me know in the comments below. I’m happy to skype/hangout/email/etc. and share my experiences.

As always, thanx for reading.

Photo Credit: Lukas Robertson at unsplash.com

If you’re in a relationship; be it marriage, parenting, friends, whatever, and you find yourself frequently feeling cheated, treated unfairly, or that you’re in need of a complete squad rebuild, it might be the alcohol.

Hang with me here. I’m a bit of an expert: a middle-aged-at-home-cajun with a long line of boozy ancestry.

I wasn’t much of a drinker in my single days – there was never a lot money, or room in the tiny bachelor fridge. But the rigors of early married life were a bit harsh on my unhealed parts, and I didn’t have the tools required for healthy navigation, so I latched on to the world’s most popular coping mechanism, and for the first time, began to struggle.

My relationship with alcohol has been off-and-on over the past 15 years or so. I’m a former pastor who still attends church and part of a community of faithful people. We’re not teetotalists, but addictive behavior beyond Sunday AM donut/coffee binging, or too much football watching, tends to raise flags.

When drinking gets a bit too regular, or when I start to feel like life isn’t any fun without it, I take a break, which always feels great. I sleep better, feel good about myself for making big boy choices, and consider quitting for good.

I’m not sure that will ever happen. I have too many friends who are like minded – it’s fun to blow off steam with them.

And nothing heals a boring Bible study like a glass of whiskey.

But I’ve begun to notice a few things about the effects of regular drinking.

It seems to make me less patient with the kids, and I get tempted to feel like my wife isn’t living up to her end of the bargain. My friends get on my nerves. Something inside switches gears, even when I don’t have a drink in my hand. I become more childish, much more likely to argue, or feel like everything’s wrong, etc.

This jives with Psychology Today’s take on the issue:

” …heavy or even moderate drinking can cause a person to be more aggressive, disinhibited, defensive, sensitive, and irrational. These psychological effects can persist even after alcohol is out of your system, and in the long term can change brain function.”

To sum up the experts – if you’re unhappy/unthankful about the under-performance of others in your life, it might be the booze.

So, I try to limit drinking to a few times per week, which is getting easier since I’ve come to realize that the effects of alchol aren’t limited to whether or not it’s in my system. It’s a “sticky” drug, as most drugs are, and seems to ripple far beyond it’s intended use.

It’s also been helpful to take an occasional, longer break, say a month or so. Given my genetic predispositions, and some emotional/situational things that are currently less than savory, it’s a good reset, a solid reminder that I have tons to be thankful for, and that I don’t need alcohol to be happy.

When I’m healthy here, I’m healthy in most other places, especially parenting. Our kids are young, and constantly needing/wanting attention, begging me to settle an argument, dole out more gum, TV, etc. It’s maddening, but tolerable when I’m making adult choices.

And marriage? My wife is an amazing, attractive, hard working human being who works tirelessly at loving her husband and her family. The woman let me buy an old, beat up, money-sucking jeep for God’s sake.

I married up, and in general, life is good. I’m not in need of “more” in any arena, and less inclined these days to let unimportant things get in the way of what makes me thankful.

 

I’ve also come to realize that alchohol is a horrible coping mechanism.

The more I cope this way, the weaker my natural, adult coping mechanisms become. Coping with alcohol isn’t really coping at all, it’s more like hiding, refusing to cope.

The more I drink to cope, the less I actually cope, which makes me really bad at coping.

It’s like any other ability – if we don’t exercise ourselves, we become weak.

Coping with alcohol has never worked, it’s only made coping harder, which makes alcohol make more sense.

So, when drinking becomes a regular thing, all I can see are problems; mole-hills that quickly morph into mountains. In these spaces, resetting/taking a break/etc. always works.

But when I’m in the thick of it, it feels impossible to quit, like it’ll kill me if I don’t have at least one beer after dinner, which always turns into two, because alcohol and adult decision making never pair well.

I have a friend who quit drinking altogether. He’s a fun, engaging, interesting guy who’ll always have a ton of questions about how I’m doing, what’s new, etc. He’s living proof that, at the least, taking a break won’t kill anybody.

But if you’re reading this, feeling like it would be utterly impossible to quit, or take some time off, or limit your drinking, I’d recommend getting some help. This problem can get serious, fast, and again, has a long, distinguished history of wrecking everything we love.

But if you’re up for it, try taking a week off. It’ll feel impossible, and worse, permanently painful, but it’s not – that kind of pain is always a good thing, a sign that we’re headed in the right direction. The pursuit of anything good will always hurt, and simultaneously bring more joy than the “comfort” that comes from avoiding difficult things.

Learning to live, in healthy ways, under the strain of good relationships is no exception.

For me, keeping the most important things in the most imporant place, and making sure that my life doesn’t revolve around garbage has always been, and will probably always be, a constant struggle.

But I’m getting used to the regular presence of struggle, and beginning to enjoy the good stuff that falls in my lap after we’ve spent some time together, especially with regards to the people in my life.