The landowner in Jesus’ parable went into the marketplace hour after hour; finding men there at the proverbial “eleventh hour,” he asked them, “Why have you been standing here idle all day long?” Turns out, it was a lack of opportunity rather than a lack of interest; when offered an chance to work, they were glad to take it (Matthew 20:6-7).
I fear some of us do not have an excuse quite so good.
People don’t believe me when I talk about how introverted I am. Truth be told, I would just as soon hole up alone with a good book or game on most evenings. I genuinely enjoy seven-hour car rides by myself.
That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy socializing. I absolutely do. But when I am with someone, I feel responsible for their entertainment as well as my own.
I got behind in my work during my recent vacation. That may not sound strange; getting away from work is kind of what vacation is all about. But my “vacations” are not entirely work-free, in most instances. I usually have a few articles and a sermon or two that need to be ready to go before I get home, plus I have my various online obligations and my regular, run-of-the-mill Bible reading.
Some of that had to take a vacation as well, though. My parents’ internet service was basically nonfunctional.
On March 20, 1925, an Anglican priest named Frederick Lewis Donaldson preached a sermon centering around what he called the “7 Deadly Social Evils.” Through the help of what he called a “fair friend,” Mohandas Gandhi had the opportunity to reprint the list in his weekly newspaper. A few weeks before the Mahatma’s assassination, he gave a handwritten copy of the list to his grandson, Arun Gandhi. It was Arun Gandhi that brought the list to the world, publishing it after his grandfather’s death under the heading “Seven Blunders of the World.”
Doing something is not always the right choice. Sometimes it is better to do nothing. Nothing at all. It’s a concept the Dutch call niksen. It encourages people to deliberately take time every day — especially the busiest days — to sit motionless, gaze out a window at nothing in particular, whatever it takes to disengage your mind and body.
American workers, always with the go-go-go mentality, tend to view this approach with disdain. It’s lazy. It’s wasteful. The only proper way to work is full throttle, full time. On a related note, American workers suffer greatly from depression, stress, high blood pressure, and divorce. A connection, perhaps?
Well, spring has sprung. And that means a host of new articles in this space about Hal’s lawn maintenance. Those who have been reading this column for a while have gotten used to this, I suspect.
The early signs are good this season.
Facts are stubborn things, said John Adams. But being stubborn does not always win you an argument. We have all been in “discussions” in which we were correct and the simpleton on the other side of the table was not. We laid out the facts as plainly as anyone could. And they remained unconvinced.
Maybe they found comfort in character assassination, or muddied the waters with irrelevant information. Maybe they just threw up their hands and left the room. Maybe they even took a swing at you. What they didn’t do, though, is change their mind. Facts had nothing to do with their position, either before or after the discussion.
Is the holiday season getting you down? I mean, even more “down” than normal? Do you instinctively head for the firearms section in your local Walmart when you hear yet another Christmas carol slaughtered by some boy band or country crooner? Be of good cheer, citizen — there are a variety of remedies on the market.
Some of you are old enough to remember when a fried chicken dinner required not only a frying pan but also either kitchen shears or a big knife. That’s right, back in our day chickens were purchased in grocery stores, not drive-thru windows. And they looked pretty much like actual chickens, just without feathers, heads and feet.
When my mom served us fried chicken, she insisted on taking the back. That’s a piece of chicken the Colonel doesn’t serve, of course. But it’s there, right there with breasts, thighs and drumsticks. I always thought she was “taking one for the team,” as mothers often do — leaving the choice pieces for the rest of us. Now I’m starting to wonder if Mom was playing us.
For me, the toughest thing about cutting grass — by far — is putting on my shoes. It seems illogical, but it’s true. I will come up with any and every conceivable reason to not get out there and do what needs to be done. Too hot. Too wet. Too tired. Too busy. Too many interesting videos on YouTube.
Once I get my shoes on, though, I’ll go. And once I go, I’ll finish.
