About Bernard Law

About Mr. Law. I've been reading your comments. He is not in Heaven. I guarantee you that. He is not in Hell either, or Purgatory. Those places aren't "real." Another thing, he has not been standing in front of Jesus trying to explain things. That is not how the afterlife works. He is gone and we can be glad of that because, overall, he was a creep and a fucking dick. I know he did a lot of good things too, and I am glad of that. We should all do good things. But, on whole, Bernie Law was a creep and a fucking dick. And, yes, that is the very best I can do.

Beyond speculating on Bernie's prospects for the afterlife, a task none of us is actually qualified to speak on with any authority, what we can do is decry his actions so loudly, constantly, and emphatically that nobody else wants to take the chances of dying with the same kind of reputation that Bernie Law has. Make his name synonymous with sleaze. Don't do it because of him. We don't care about him anymore. Do it on account of anybody else out there who might be thinking they can get away with the same thing.

Bernard Law is a suck. He is a bag of dicks. And if you do what he did, so are you.

In that way, even the very fucked-up life of Bernie Law might have some meaning for the good.

You know, I complain about the rain. And it has been raining here all day. But, the truth of the matter is that the rain falls on plexiglass, corrugated tin, wood, and cement all within feet of my front door. It's like a rain symphony. And the man on the second floor, across the lane, has a bird that sings so happily when it rains.

I did put on my boots and tromp around in the rain for a little while this afternoon I only went around the block... a double block. That is I walked up to Nanjing Lu, then turned left and walked about two blocks, then back to Beijing Lu, and then back home. So, I I walked the perimeter of four or six blocks, not just my own. But, really, who wants to be out there where it's so hot and wet? I was glad to get back home and take a shower. -- I did some exercises inside. Some days, that's enough.

The air quality has been good, though, and I've enjoyed that. Breathe it in while you can, kids... that's what I say.

I spent a good part of the afternoon Googling things relative to my essay for this week. I'll be including a link to a fascinating article about coins and the value of those 10 thousand talents of silver. It's a little geeky, but I learned a lot from it.

YES! I will be writing about Naaman, the man from Aram. It almost rhymes. There is a lot there.

For one thing I compare Naaman with Jonah... they both went down. Jonah went down to Joppa, down into the sea, and down into the belly of the fish... whale in Islam. And Naaman, a proud, nationalistic, and probably very rich fellow is going to have to come down off his high horse if he wants to get healed. That would make a nice little essay.

There is also the insider/outsider angle. Naaman was an insider, a favorite of the king! But his leprosey also made him an outsider. So, we can see right from the beginning that this is a story about bridging the chasm between the insiders and the outsiders. Also note that without the slaves and foreigners none of this story would have happened.

But the most interesting bit of the story happens in the last third... You can kind of divide the story up into thirds where there is a natural break between them. It's this last section -- it's not in the lectionary -- that interests me. I am going to have to think on it. It's getting late, of course, nearly 2 am here in China. I'd better think fast.

Love to all.

Oh, and here's a picture of me at school clowning around with some of the kids. I am teasing them about their expensive trainers. They all have several pair.

School's out for summer!

Can I just say that again... School's out for summer!

Honestly, it's a horrible school. I do not like the students. They are just spoiled, rich kids. They don't have to learn English, they are going to be rich anyway. And I do not like my bosses. They don't know the first thing about how to put together a program, or to even run the Cambridge program which is already pretty well put together. And, well, they don't know how to handle foreigners.  We are all nice people. Really, the foreigner teachers are a great group. But, we spend most of our time really ticked off about something. I mean, I don't. Not usually. But, there's plenty to be ticked off about, that's for sure.  For my part, my pay is not going to be what I think it should be, I still don't know whether or not I'm getting a bonus, it's all messed up, as is normal. I think I'm about ready to be lied to and treated badly by people in another part of the world for awhile. Though, I plan to be back here for one more year. 

I have mainly been a big lie-about since school was out. It's been raining for most of the time. We even had thunder the other day which is pretty unusual. Anyway, when it is not raining I go out for a walk, or a juice, or bike ride. If it's past rush hour I take my bike. Between 7am and 7pm, though, I walk. 

I got my hair cut. Photo to follow.

On Sunday my friend Steven and I are going to Quibao. It's an ancient water town, actually in Shanghai. Very old. Lots of tourists go there. Since Dong Tai Road has been shut down, I am looking for a new place to go on those steamy Shanghai afternoons when I just want to walk slowly and talk to people. Dong Tai Lu was an antique/"antique" street. You can still find some legitimate antiques. I have been there a few times since it closed down and people who remember me have come out of their houses to offer me antique beads (I am a sucker for those) or whatever they have. Most of the good stuff isn't of much interest to me and/or it's out of my price range. I do love the old Chinese beads, though. They are colorful and funny. Something about them appeals to me. I've bought a lot of them over the  years. Sometimes I buy a piece of red coral if it's of exceptional quality. There used to be some very good jade down there, but I never bought any of it. I love the imperial jade, but the lesser quality jade doesn't do much for me. I enjoy talking to the people. It was a good place to take visitors because it was a way to see "real" Shanghai, and buy some souvenirs too. Also, a good place to practice Chinese speaking.  They will build an office building in its place. The one thing Shanghai does not need is another office building. For one thing Shanghai is already sinking. There are too many buildings on it already. For another thing, sea levels are rising anyway. Add that to the sinking and I think it's a poor real estate investment. I ain't no Donald Trump, of course, but I wouldn't do it. Also, Dong Tai Lu was special. Office buildings are not. I don't care how many neon lights you stick on there it's still not going to be special. Alas. But maybe I'll like Quibao!

I'm reading a new book by Joyce Carol Oates called Middle Age. It's about a bunch of middle-aged people -- quelle surprise -- and how they respond to the death of their mutual friend. It's entertaining, though I'll probably go back to non-fiction after this. I'm just not learning anything from it. 

Hope all is well. Thanks for reading the blog

It's Father's Day. Because sperm, I guess. I never think of my father. Maybe sometimes, but not often. I do not recall any Father's Day celebrations in our home. It seems strange to think that I have a father. Of course, I must. But, it's surreal.

Other people knew my father. I never did. From them I know what he valued, what he did, things. I don't know. He lived an entire life hidden from me. As I guess mine has been from him, as much as possible anyway.

Anyway...

I wrote about Elijah again today. Elijah is sort of my new boyfriend. I'm a little bit obsessed with him. You can read all about it here. Early in the week I noticed the chiasmus, the two questions are the tip off, at least they were for me, but I didn't put the whole thing together until rather early this morning. It goes like this:

A - Elijah flees

          B - Eat and Drink

                    C - What are you doing here?

                              D - Got Tells E to GO and STAND

E - God passes by

                              D - E GOES and STANDS

                    C - What are you doing here?

          B - Go and Return

A - Elijah gets sent back

C - D - E was easy enough, but I got a little bogged down around B. I felt that Elijah's coming and Elijah's going were connected, but it took me awhile to put eat and drink together with go and return. It wasn't a big part of the essay, though, if you read carefully you can see that I made sort of a chiasmus in the essay itself. It's too subtle to even mention, but I rather like that part.

But what I want to talk to you about is that man in the tombs. There he is, opposite Galilee. And he is tormented. The story tells us that he was tormented by demons. Hum. In a universe of possibilities we can't rule that out. But it seems to me like something else might be going on. \

I have a small class I teach on the side. Five little girls, and they are all five years old. Four of them are a complete delight. The other one is kind of hard headed. My life as a teacher would be easier if she were more like the other children. But I see the spark of genius in her. She's a non-conforming girl living in one of the most conform-valuing societies in the world. There are times when I'd like to drive her out of the classroom for her non-conformity. Of course, I do not. We have to work with this kind of spirit, not against it. Some other teacher will probably come along and crush the spirit out of her, or beat it out. But it won't be me. When she displays her hard-headedness I do not try to overpower her, even though I easily could. I could physically force her to do what I want her to do, or I could just use the force of my will like I do with the high schoolers. She's only five, after all. But what would that achieve? She would just dig in. And when she was old enough, and strong enough, she'd break the bonds of my strength anyway. Physical and mental. And people would say that she's crazy. Maybe even demon possessed. But, she's not. She's just not a conformer.

And so I was thinking about my little hard-headed student this week in relation to the man in the tombs. Maybe the legion of "demons" were really just a million creative ideas, a thousand ways to live differently. Or, maybe, as a pal of mine suggested, he refused to conform to Roman expectations and that is what caused the others to be afraid of him.

I don't know. He is one of the many Bible characters we meet and then don't hear about again. I would like to know what happened to him.

Tomorrow is the first day of a very special week. It's the last week of school. I only have the faintest outline of a plan for my summer. Mainly I am just relieved that for eight weeks I will not have to go to that horrible place.  Hope your week is as happy as mine.

In my essay last week I wrote about how God desires to answer our prayers and how Elijah's simple prayer for God's presence was enough. You can read it here. In my readings, though, I came upon a story that I wanted to use in the essay, but didn't. I could have used it, but then the essay would have been too long. So, whatever. I didn't use the essay, but I like this a lot:

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, one of the great Hassidic teachers, looked forward to Seder night every year. 

One year, after the Seder was over, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak went to sleep, content. He had conducted a great Seder with all his students round the table. 

He fell into a deep sleep and dreamt a strange dream. 

In the dream, the prophet Elijah is talking with the angels, giving them an account of the Seder he saw in Jewish homes. He describes the kids' excitement as their eyes are glued to the cup for Elijah to see if he came to visit them this year. 

One of the angels asks, "But which was the most important Seder that you visited? Was it Rabbi Levi Yitzhak's?" 

"Truth be told," Elijah answers, "Rabbi Levi Yitzhak's Seder was full of interesting discussions on the Haggadah, but it cannot be compared to the Seder of Chaim the water carrier." 

At that Rabbi Levi Yitzhak woke up with a start and jumped out of bed. He had to speak to this water carrier named Chaim right away. 

He shook awake one of his students who had fallen asleep at the table and sent him to seek out Chaim. 

Eventually, the student found Chaim in a tumbledown hut at the edge of the town and brought him, dazed and barely awake, to Rabbi Levi Yitzhak's house. 

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak welcomed the puzzled man, and offered him a chair opposite him. Then he asked, "Tell me, my good Chaim, what happened last night at your Seder?" 

Ashamed, looking down at his shabby shoes, Chaim answered: 

"What kind of a Seder could an ignorant, tired fellow like me have? Yesterday, the day before Passover was a very hard day. All the houses were being cleaned, and water was in great demand. I walked backwards and forwards all day, trying to supply everyone with enough water. I slaved away with not a moment's rest. 

"At the end of the day, I arrived home, half dead from exhaustion. My wife Rachel was just lighting the candles for the festival and I asked her to let me rest a while, and I fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke it was nearly dawn. 

"Of course, I quickly woke up Rachel. There was no time now to read the whole Haggadah, so we drank the four cups of wine, and ate the matzah and some maror, and with whatever time I had left, I pleaded with God: 'Almighty, please forgive a simple ignorant man. All I know is that you delivered us in the past from the cruel hands of the Egyptians -- you have led us out of slavery to freedom. And now we are all in exile again, and I ask you with all my heart to lead us again into freedom!" 

Having finished his story of woe, the water carrier waited, sure that the great Rabbi Levi Yitzhak would reprimand him for not making a proper Seder. 

But instead, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok put his hand on Chaim's shoulder and turned to his students and said, "It is extremely important to follow the order of the Seder, but now we know why this man's Seder was the most pleasing to Elijah the Prophet." 

Judaism teaches that "Every individual has to see himself as though he himself was redeemed from Egypt." Telling over the story of going out of Egypt is not enough -- we have to connect with it ourselves. 

Chaim, a simple ignorant Jew, in his one sentence Seder, found favor in God's eyes, because of the depth of his sincerity and his commitment to do the best that he knew. "What comes out of the heart, goes into the heart.

So, once again, the humble, the poor get it right.

The story was written by Rebecca Rubinstein and you can read it at Aish.

WARNING: This is kind of a rant
I wanted to get a new Kindle because I lost mine the last time I went to the USA. Yes, I know that you can read ebooks on your iPad. Something about that irritates me, even though you can highlight in different colors, it's just not a good reading experience for me. So I went down and got a new Kindle. I did not get the regular $80 Kindle. Nobody uses that anymore. I did not get the Papwewhite, which is what everyone uses. At about $130 US, you can't beat it. I also did not get the fancy new $280 Kindle Voyage. It's just not worth it. But, after I put my hands on it, I knew that I had to own the New $360 Kindle Oasis. And I don't regret it. I love it. But, here's the thing. After I got it home and downloaded my bazillion books I discovered that it has adverts on it! Seriously, for that kind of dough you shouldn't get bombarded with adverts. So this morning I contacted them. Three chat sessions and a phone call later somebody told me how to disable the adverts. Whew... that's great, I thought. Then, when I opened my email I discovered that they'd charged me $22.50 for it. I mean, I am not going to make a ruckus about it, but really? I just don't know what to say about such money grubbing. I almost want to give them a little more, it seems to mean so much to them. I just can't believe it. There ought to be a point at which Amazon says, "Hummm... That Linda McMillan, she's a customer. We should try to keep her!" Instead they just keep nickel and diming you. The good news is that the adverts are off my new Kindle. The other good news is that I have a new Kindle. And the other good news is that I'm not going to rant about it anymore.

Last week my pastor, or whatever... I don't even know what she is, I guess she's A pastor... not MY pastor. I don't have a pastor. I don't know what a pastor is for. Anyway, that woman who runs my church said that young families were the future of the church. That's not true. They aren't. That's just something that somebody said. Having young families in the church is no vaccination against decline and boredom. In fact, I am not sure that concentrating on young families results in anything more than a general dumbing-down and neglect of worship and study. Look, I like seeing the little ones in church too. I think it's nice to have them there, even with their child-like antics. They are children, after all.  But this near-worship of the young, nuclear, dominant-paradigm like family is sickening. They require more pastoral care, don't have as much disposable income, and less time to volunteer.  Honestly, what's there to love about them? 

There's an edge of sour grapes in there, I know, because I want people to believe that middle-aged lesbians are the future of the church, or I at least want them to want us there. But we are not in anybody's desired demographic. No pastor has ever gotten up on a Sunday morning and prayed, "Oh, dear Lard Gesus, please send us some middle-aged lesbians." That has never happened. Yet, we typically have more disposable income, more time to volunteer, and we don't require all the servicing of a young family. What's not to love about the middle-aged lesbian? We're great. 

You know who else is great? Old people. Look around at your congregation tomorrow and tell me how many heads are grey or bald and how many are more youthful. You'll probably see more grey heads than youthful ones. And that does not mean that the church is dying. It just means that the people there are old. And, yes, they will die. That's a given for pretty much all of us. But people are getting old all the time, there is an almost inexhaustible supply of old people because there are more and more all the time. Just because the people in a church are older doesn't mean it has one foot in the grave. Old people are like lesbians, they are easier to care for, have more money, and more time. Plus, there's the added advantage of them being closer to dying so they might be a little more serious about, you know, God. I love 'em! I'd go to a church full of old people.

You know who else is SUPER at doing church? Drag Queens. We are there to think about the transforming love of God, to imagine how our lives could be fabulous, to gaze upon the divine. What could be more helpful than to see a gorgeous drag queen come down the aisle? I'm not talking about trannies, I'm talking about real queens! If I were making up the rules for church we wouldn't have a procession without them! 

And we should get some trannies too because they want to be included. And they are so excited about their new sex that their enthusiasm spills out onto everything they do. So, I'd get some trannies too. But, I'd encourage them not to do too much to their bodies. It's not healthy. But just wear the kinds of clothes you want and act like you want... nobody cares. Just don't hurt yourselves. But, come in and be one of us and have a donut. I'd give everybody a whole donut. We only get half a donut in my church. 

Also, I love seeing homeless people at church. In my parish I only see them outside the gate, and I enjoy visiting with them. They are the kinds of people Jesus would have been talking too. Some of them don't have fingers or a leg. One is blind. They're all poor. But they are always happy to see me. I give them money, that's true enough, but I like to think they actually like me too. We always have a little laugh together. The homeless guys call me by name. Some of them. I bet not one person in my parish church, a church I've been attending pretty regularly for about a year, knows my name. Really, I am totally invisible. One day after church somebody saw me giving them some money and told me that I'd given them too much, and the other one said that I shouldn't encourage them. Really? Couldn't they see that it was ME who was getting encouraged? Makes you wonder who's the blind one.

Of course, the downside of single people is that they may actually have time to study the lectionary readings, to read church history, and to sort of be "with-it" in terms of what's going on. They might not be sufficiently stupid and therefore harder to control. So, I do see the wisdom of excluding single people. God knows the very last thing we want in church is people who know what's going on. 

Anyway, that's my rant about the young families. I kind of hate them. I mean, I'll try not to. But, really...