Catching Up with an Old Friend, Center City Style

I must say it is nice to work in the heart of Center City. Although it takes a little more time and effort to get to and from the office, once I'm here it's awfully convenient, since many of my clients and meetings are within easy walking distance. If I shopped or ate out, I'd be even happier, as is evidenced by my co-workers who do shop and eat out who have enjoyed having many more choices at their disposal. (Not that University City was a slouch in these categories.)

Earlier this week presented a particularly tangible demonstration of the advantage of being downtown. An old college friend and former housemate of mine contacted me on short notice to tell me he was in Philadelphia real quick for a business conference, and was I able to connect with him while he was in town. It turns out he was staying at a hotel two blocks from my workplace, so I told him I'd meet him in the lobby at noon the next day.

It just so happened to be "National Walk at Lunch Day," so we made a beeline for City Hall, where we circled the area along with thousands of other participants in white T-shirts. We never did figure out where they were giving these free T's out, but we did score a bottled water, banana, and Tastykake. We decided to negate our calories burned by heading to Five Brothers for burgers, and for even more dramatic effect, we brought them back out into the midst of all the lunchtime-walking, so we could enjoy the juxtaposition of pounding a six-inch thick cheeseburger while chirpy volunteers in bright shirts were yelling affirming things to passersby like "attagirl, way to keep it moving!"

We ended up eating and chatting at Love Park, a gorgeous view of the Art Museum in one direction and the swarming masses around City Hall in the other direction. Two models were doing a photo shoot with the fountain in the background, kids splashed in the water, and thousands of office workers were enjoying a warm and sunny day during their lunch hour. The whole place was pulsating with motion and energy and rhythm and chatter. It was a great set-up to catch up with a dear friend, a great way to do a lunch hour, and a great reason being in the middle of a big city is so fun.

Bussy Galore

Not only is my commute all transit, but it's all bus. Where Aaron's school is is really only close to three bus lines, no rail lines. So after we drop off Jada, we walk two blocks to catch one bus, get off, walk another block, catch a second bus, and walk three blocks to Aaron's school. From there, I take a bus into Center City. On the way home, I reverse the process.

Out of six bus rides a day, probably four of them are pretty crowded; it is rush hour, after all. And my commute time has lengthened considerably, from almost a half-hour to pushing an hour door to door.

But it's nice to have some father-son time for the four legs I'm with Aaron, and some magazine-reading time for the two legs I'm solo. And, as I mentioned yesterday, my body doesn't miss the achiness of doing this by bike. So for now, it's buses, buses, and more buses.

Retiring from Bicycling

Seven months after going all bicycle in getting the kids to school and myself to work, I've put the bike back in the shed, as I'm going all SEPTA from here on out. It was fun while I lasted, but I'm glad: I am getting old and creaky, and Aaron is getting heavy. (In fact, at 39 pounds, he's on the brink of being over the bike seat's 40-pound limit.)

But it's a little bittersweet. It was good exercise: probably a total of 500+ miles ridden. It was good to control my own schedule, as I'm not going to like waiting outside forever for buses to arrive. It was good to slice through rush hour traffic, instead of being stuck in it like I will now. And, it was a little bit of father-son bonding, whether we were having "outside voice" conversation or he was snuggling up against my back in the cold or rain.

Fortunately, though I lost track of how many times I got cut off, we never got into an accident. And I didn't use any gas or spend any money (unless you count the two $5 ski masks we used to gut out the winter months). So I'll call the great bicycle commuting experiment of 2010-2011 a roaring success. And now if you'll excuse me, I have to soak my body; even though it's been since Friday since I rode on the bike, I'm still aching in places.

God's Will for Our Kids

Recently, I've had the pleasure of sharing in the joy of a dad whose kid is getting into hoops like he is, another dad who shows artistic skills like he does, and a third dad whose kid has decided to study econ like he did. But it is a little bittersweet for me to see how happy other dads get when they see their children take an interest in or show a talent for something that they are into. Sweet because I am a dad, too, and there's nothing like being proud of your kids. Bitter because my traits are not genetically passed on to my kids, and so it is not nearly as likely that they will be gifted in the same things or interested in the same things as I am.

You may protest that DNA isn't everything, and I certainly don't want to discount the role of these three dads, or other dads, in shaping opinions and forming preferences and honing skills, all of which takes place after birth. But genetics do matter, and it is clear to Amy and me that, while we love our kids, and while they are influenced by our parenting, improved by our good traits, and hindered by our bad traits, they are quite different from us, and will likely grow up to be quite different from us.

This fact adds a certain edge to the pressure we feel in our given socio-economic class. Other Ivy League parents who whip their kids into shape are building off of some good DNA, while other Ivy League parents who choose to take a more laissez-faire approach have at least contributed those brains to their kids via egg and sperm. It may seem haughty to say out loud that you want your kids to be smart like you are, but it is true, and it may take some getting used to if our kids don't have the same trajectory that we do.

We often pay lip service to the belief that our role and desire as parents is to support our children as they, with God's help, grow into the best whatever that God has made them to be. It sounds faithful to say so, and it is faithful, for it acknowledges that God is in control, instead of trying to bend the result the way we want it to go.

I cannot conjecture how many of us parents are truly that faithful. I can only speak for myself, and I know that having adopted kids has exposed the fact that I am usually not that faithful: I want my kids to grow up to be a certain way, and I want it to be like me, and I struggle to be at peace in the midst of the particular uncertainty about their potential given that it is not my DNA in them. Or, to put in more bluntly: my wife and I are smart, and with that has come all sorts of accomplishments and advantages, and it is worrisome to me that my kids may not enjoy the same successes.

As is often the case with the Christian, I must lay myself before my God and ask Him to wrestle me to that place where I can say, "Not my will, but Yours." Success in this world does not necessarily equate with being faithful to the life God intends for us. Sometimes it helps things along, but sometimes it hinders matters. Sometimes we are meant to forgo our accomplishments and advantages to follow Jesus, and sometimes we never had access to such worldly successes in the first place but can still make a difference for God in this generation.

Having wrestled with God and my ambitions for myself upon graduating from an Ivy League institution many years ago, I now wrestle with God and my ambitions for my children. And, as was the case with my life path, so may it be for the life path my kids go down: "Not my will, but Yours."

Lazy Linking, 43rd in an Occasional Series

Stuff I liked lately on the Internets:

43.1. A juicy role reversal - in light of atrocities at a West Philadelphia abortion clinic, Republican state legislators are calling for more protective measures, while Democratic state legislators cry foul that the over-regulation will make abortions more expensive and thus price out the poor.

43.2. I'm a little late to the Daytum.com game, but perusing it feels like the early days of Twitter voyeurism, in terms of being fascinated with what people are posting.

43.3. Dr. Elijah Anderson is a lot smarter than me, which makes me feel good that we have come to the same conclusion, which is that Philly has lots of great public spaces for a diversity of people to interact.

43.4. An economist's quick take on the scene in 2 Kings 7 where an officer scoffs at the man of God for predicting, in the midst of dire food shortages, that food will soon be dirt cheap because God will provide.

43.5. Comcast asks, "How can we do better with and for Hispanics?"

43.6. One of the falsely accused Duke lacrosse players has gotten involved in a non-profit that helps those who have been similarly falsely accused but lack the resources to retain top-shelf legal counsel.

43.7. Why do the Palinites irk feminists so? Because they've made deficit reduction a mom's issue.

43.8. President Obama visited Los Angeles last week. What was the storyline in the days leading up? Stay home: he's going to make traffic even worse. [Hat tip: The Enterprise Blog.]

43.9. What does it take to not only be a martyr but welcome it? Love.

43.10. My A's are lacking pop at the plate. I'll bet you Rickey Henderson is still in game shape. [Hat tip: SI.]

Pride Goeth

Loved this Wall Street Journal article and love the concept: "Re-Tweeting (Not-So) Humble Promoters." The so-called "Humblebrag" is a self-deprecating way to puff up yourself. My favorite one from the article: "I just realized I've only showered in ONE of my FIVE showers since I've moved in here. This must change."

Funny as these examples are, though, pride is a serious matter, though. And my, how prevalent it is in our day. And I'm not just talking about the standard fare of "look how great I am" or even the above examples of inner smugness masquerading as false modesty. No, I'm talking about a far more insidious, common, and debilitating form of pride. I'm talking about the pride of being our own god.

I'm not sure I can say that Christians are the worst at this, because I don't hang out with people of other faith persuasions as much as I do Christians, and because I am myself a Christian and I know my own heart. But we so-called followers of Jesus and lovers of God are quite good at all kinds of pride. We don't often trade in the blatant versions, but we have our own "humblebrags." (You could consider my post earlier this month on committing Bible verses to memory a particularly egregious one: "look at me struggle to memorize my 100 Bible verses." Guilty as charged.)

As a college friend of mine who I used to pray with would often say, we can even be prideful that we are struggling with pride, for even that can be twisted into a form of self-congratulations for being mature enough to be that aware. The fact of the matter is, even we, who of all people have reason, instruction, and motivation to get out of the way and let God get the glory, seem to find it hard to shake the attitude of putting ourselves first, desperately seeking to feel good about ourselves and to exalt ourselves before others.

Of course, the response to this is not that poor self-esteem is to be sought after, for poor self-esteem is another form of pride. The Christian who says, "I'm a worm," and gets stuck there, doesn't make God happy because he doesn't continue on to "but God is glorious." If we cherish our worminess because we are being honest with ourselves and because it gives God room to be even greater, that's great; but if we wallow in our worminess or if we take secret delight in it because it makes us seem more holy to others, that's not so great.

I don't expect those who do not believe in the God of the Bible to find any of this sensible or attractive. One can read this and think that Christians suffer from acute neuroses and/or that their God is vain and petty and shallow and insecure. It offends the natural man's very sense of self to think that there is any other way of life than to be at the center of attention, decision-making authority, and glory. It seems ridiculous to become smaller that something else become bigger, something else that demands all of the glory and shares it with no one and no thing. It seems more sensible, more enjoyable, more decent to call your own shots, look for your own self, decide for yourself what's good and right and pleasurable.

Alas, observing and talking to us Christians, why would it seem we have anything different or better to offer? All we show is the same me-centeredness, insecurity, and glory-seeking; we just do it in ways that make ourselves look and feel good to our fellow Christians. We keep score, just with different markers of success. We boast some times and wallow other times, just like everyone else. And, probably better than most, we "humblebrag."

We don't come across as people who have truly been in the presence of something so great, so arresting, so life-altering, so worthy of all glory, that it really is the most logical thing to be subsumed by it, detached from the need to make ourselves feel good or look better, wholeheartedly focused on one thing. When Christians become so satisfied and so adoring of a God who promises our satisfaction and warrants our adoration, I guarantee you we will not struggle so much with pride, and a world that is watching us will become irresistibly interested.

It is hard to shake pride, but it is a sin worth fighting off. For when it is burned away, we are left restored to how we were first made to be and how we will one day forever be: giving praise to a God supremely worthy of praise. And then, no one will feel the need to "humblebrag."

From the Vault: Who Killed Jesus (August 14, 2003)

Here's a post from the Musings vault: Who Killed Jesus (from August 14, 2003). Happy Resurrection Sunday weekend!

***

Mel Gibson's new movie, Passion, about the life of Jesus, is causing quite a stir in the media for its alleged anti-Semitism. Seems the Jews are portrayed as a bloodthirsty mob clamouring uncontrollably for Jesus' execution, resurrecting (no pun intended) old sensitivities about the Jews being the killers of the Savior of the Christian world. Which begs the question: who killed Jesus?

To begin with, in my read of the four gospel accounts, I also see a bloodthirsty Jewish mob intent on condemning Jesus to death by crucifixion. What their reasons were, I cannot say I totally know: was it mob mentality, disappointment that this alleged savior wasn't taking on their Roman oppressors, or religious fervor that a mere man would claim to be divine? But they played their part in ramrodding Jesus through a dubious legal proceeding.

What about Pontius Pilate? That Jesus claimed to be King of the Jews and Son of God didn't evoke any feelings in him; he seemed quite puzzled about why the Jews were all in a froth about this plain-looking carpenter. But he had his chances to do right, and instead protected his reputation (and perhaps his personal safety) by doing as the feverish mob desired.

And the Roman soldiers, what is their role in Jesus' death? They were the ones that tortured, mocked, and crucified Jesus. They seemed to relish the ease by which they were bullying around this alleged man of miracles. Surely they played a significant role in the death of Jesus.

Most people in the Christian tradition know that Jesus died for the sins of the world. So do we point a finger at ourselves? For it is because of our sins that Jesus died; if we as humans were somehow able to live sinless lives, would the carpenter from Nazareth need to walk that lonely road to Golgotha? Do we in our sinfulness have Jesus' blood on our hands?

But if you were to ask me point-blank, "Who killed Jesus?", I would not answer with any of those groups above. It wasn't the Jews, or Pontius Pilate, or the Roman soldiers, or even humanity in its sinfulness. I believe that the answer to the question, "Who killed Jesus?" is "God killed Jesus."

The prophet Isaiah prophesied that "the Lord was pleased to crush Him, putting Him to grief; if He would render Himself as a guilt offering, He will see His offspring, He will prolong His days, and the good pleasure of the LORD will prosper in His hand" (Isaiah 53:10). Not only did God kill Jesus, but He derived a divine pleasure in the act. Does this make God a sadist? Does this mean God hates His Son?

Far from it. Without launching into a lengthy discourse on the mechanics of the gospel message, I believe God most prominently cherishes His Name, His Divine Reputation, His Own Holy Character. For man, this would be the epitome of vanity and idolatry; for God, it is the pinnacle of righteousness and truth. He loves His Son, therefore, because Jesus is the physical manifestation of divine gloriousness. And He loved crushing His Son because it perfectly upheld two aspects of God's character: His justice and His mercy.

His justice means that His love for His Own Holy Character cannot tolerate the offense of human sin. To tolerate it in any way would diminish His love for Self. His mercy means that His love for His Own Holy Character overflows in its abundance to sinful humans, not in an insecure way (as if He needed us) but in a way that demonstrates His greatness and magnificence.

To crush His Only Beloved Son was to perform an act that perfectly upheld Divine Justice and Divine Mercy. So it gave Him divine pleasure. Though it was an act that took place 2000 years ago, He is the same perfect God and we the same sinful humans. May we not diminish God by pointing the finger for Jesus' death on Jews, Romans, or ourselves. May we rather ascribe this act to God Himself, appreciate the divine pleasure He derived from this act, and seek to be joined with such a God who is Divinely Happy and who derives divine pleasure when such divine happiness overflows into our lives.

Living With the End in Mind

The only times I've heard about May 21 being the end of the world have been in the context of people joking about "those crazy Christians." It seems clear to me from the Bible that no one knows when the end is, nor is it right to even predict. So I haven't given much thought to that date that is exactly one month from now.

But here's a question: what if they're right? Just because it's not right to say you know when the end is doesn't mean you are necessarily wrong about the actual date. By dumb luck, May 21 could be it.

If that's the case - and, just to be clear, I'm not seeing it will be, just that the probability is not zero - what do you think will happen? Are you ready? Will you have any regrets? And unresolved issues you'll be kicking yourself about not tending to before then?

And, most fundamentally, where do you think you will stand before God? What if He is as holy as He is made out to be?

I speak not from a position of higher ground. For though I have not even thought too deeply about this, already I realize that I have a lot of deceit, a lot of arrogance, a lot of moral flaws, a lot of bad behavioral preferences, and a lot of undone good deeds. On my own, I deserve to be ashamed and embarrassed should I be called to account by my Maker, and I am. I have a lot of turning around to do, a lot of refining away what isn't pure, a lot of putting to death of the deeds of the flesh. And, a lot of hiding my soul in a Savior who died for me, stands in for me, and stands for me.

Just because it's seen as crazy by some and wrong by others to predict that the end is coming on May 21 doesn't mean that we should discount the coming of the end altogether. Whatever happens one month from now, may we ever live with the end in mind.

Hell Yeah

I admit it: after reading the provocative Time Magazine cover article ("What if There's No Hell?"), which is about Pastor Rob Bell's new book ("Love Wins"), I was all fired up to write a blog post with a very particular angle. And that angle was going to be: 1) how tempting it is to want to explain away eternal damnation, 2) of course it's going to make any evangelicals who protest look backwards and reactive, and 3) is this what modern-day Christianity has come to is that we have nothing to offer the world unless we gut the very basic tenets of our faith perspective.

But then I decided to pause. And, after I paused, I decided to go in a different direction. After all, I haven't read the book, I don't know anything more about Pastor Bell than what was in the magazine article, and I'm guessing his take on the issue of universal redemption is more nuanced. Besides, what do I have to add to the line of discussion concerning the secular world's desire for hell not to exist? We don't want to face the consequences of our choices, we'd rather believe we're inherently good, and it's never popular to condemn others' morals. Big whoop.

So, rather than pointing a finger at Pastor Bell or at a generation that would prefer that hell not exist, I point a finger at myself and my fellow believers. We claim to understand the human condition, so it shouldn't surprise us that people want to do whatever they want without consequences, because we were once like that and sometimes still act that way. And it shouldn't catch us off-guard when people write things to tickle the ears of the masses, since we know from our Bibles that that's been going on for a long time.

Here's what we can and should take away from this topic. What are our own thoughts about hell? What do we believe? What do we want to believe? What is true? How does it affect how we live our lives? And how comfortable are we letting others around us know that we believe the following:

1. Hell is in fact real.
2. It is actually much worse than you can even imagine.
3. It is part of, and not outside of, God's plans and purposes.
4. People do end up there.
5. We all deserve to end up there.
6. Jesus provides the only way out.

The average person today will find that combination of beliefs to be outdated, offensive, arrogant, backwards, off-putting, and mean. So forget about vilifying Pastor Bell or scorning this age for wanting to believe his line of thinking. How about looking at ourselves in the mirror and asking ourselves if we are willing to lay claim to those statements above, absorb any attendant eye-rolling or opposition, and hang in there long enough with people to earn the right to show them the good news in that?

Religion is a touchy subject, and we must be respectful of others' faith tradition and world perspectives. So we do well to tread lightly here; eternal damnation is not a topic to be trifled with. But, it is an important element to the believer's worldview, so would that we, despite its unpopular and complicated aspects, hold fast to what we believe, hell and all.

Lazy Linking, 42nd in an Occasional Series

What I liked lately on the Internets:

42.1. Did you know I know all the lyrics to NWA's "Straight Outta Compton." You know who else does? Gwynneth Paltrow. [Hat tip: kottke.org.]

42.2. Taco Bell is testing taco shells made out of nacho-flavored Doritos. Taco Bell is brilliant. America is doomed. [Hat tip: the Consumerist.]

42.3. More haunting visuals of how far Detroit has fallen. If an empty book depository's pages flap in the wind, do they make a sound? [Hat tip: AbeBooks.com.]

42.4. I know Japan has taken a devastating hit this year. But any nation that can put together choreography like this has the moxie to make a comeback. [Hat tip: Angry Asian Man.]

42.5. Why do some people spend so much more money on our kitchens even as they spend so much less time in them? Megan McArdle says it's because they can afford to treat the activity in there as leisure and not drudgery.

Christianity is Getting Old

I became a Christian in high school and then grew a lot in the faith in college. Since then, my faith has had to mature, as I have grown older, taken on more responsibilities, experienced more heartache, and lived more life. It is a common trajectory for the modern follower of Jesus.

Complicating matters for me are two personality traits that strongly characterize me. With apologies to those who find the Myers-Briggs Personality Test barfy, I will describe these characteristics in those terms. First, I am a fairly strong “N” (as opposed to “S”), which means I am very future-oriented, ever thinking of what’s next instead of being present in the now. Second, I am a fairly strong “J” (as opposed to “P”), which means I like my plans tied up and settled, instead of preferring to hold them loosely.

As I age, I find that these innate aspects of me bristle against the normal consequences of getting older. After all, there is less and less of my life ahead of me to think futuristically about. It seems to me that the reason why people have mid-life crises is that they realize there is more life behind them than ahead of them. This is frightening to the strong “N.”

Also, with age comes more uncertainties. In high school and college and into early adulthood, my plans and my schedule were pretty controllable. Of course, adding kids into the mix throws that off, and I’ve had to make that adjustment.

But my “J”-ness is also struggling to adjust to other elements of getting older. My mom’s health issues have saddened me, but they also remind me of the messiness and uncertainty associated with aging. When we are young, we don’t think much of medical issues, more than the occasional physical or routine dental visit. As the years pass, stuff starts to hurt, more tests are needed, and eventually things become chronic and all-encompassing.

Recently, a friend of mine, when I asked him about how his dad was doing, answered in a curious way: “He’s not aging well.” My friend went on to explain that his father was always used to doing 101 things at a time, winning accolades and respect and satisfaction along the way. As he grew older, and his body and mind began to betray him, he resisted this natural evolution. My friend told me he prayed a lot that his dad, one of the more spiritually astute people he knew, would learn this lesson of aging well as a Christian believer.

I am not nearly as old as my friend’s dad, but I pray I too would learn to grow old in a faithful and godly manner. For, upon further reflection, the Christian faith is not simply a useful set of principles for use in combating the annoyances of growing old. That presupposes that growing old is inherently bad, or at least inconvenient, and that Christianity is something that can minimize or reverse those negatives.

But Christianity is not the antidote to getting old, or the way in which getting old goes down more easily. No, Christianity is getting old. Christianity is the long journey in the same direction, and however long and arduous and windy that journey is, we know where we are going and who securely escorts us there.

Christianity neither demonizes nor glorifies aging. It just assumes we will all do it. And, with less time in front of us than behind us, it also means less time until we are perfected, and more time to draw from when instructing the next generation that is journeying behind us.

I am not happy with how irked I get about growing old. Being an “N” and being a “J” are not inherently good or bad character traits. But they do make it easier for me to struggle, like my friend’s dad, when faced with the inevitability of aging. Would that I recognize that my faith journey is not about avoiding the annoyances of old age. Rather, it is about growing old with humility that I can no longer do as much, wisdom that I have more to draw from in telling others, and joy that I am closer to the finish line.

Organized Resistance

As someone who has fond memories of T-ball and soccer (and not so fond memories of swimming and ice skating), I am ambivalent about our kids’ lack of organized activities. On the one hand, they are in school 50 hours a week, and why add to the stress with weekend shuttling? On the other hand, everyone else’s kids are doing something: piano, dance, gymnastics, and sometimes all of the above and then some. And, what would have happened if my parents decided they weren’t going to enroll me in anything when I was a kid?

One big difference between my childhood and my kids’ is that we live in a big city. On any given weekend, there might be two dozen fun (and often free) things to jump in on, whether the book fair and science fair going on down on the Parkway later today, or abundant other downtown excursions. I might not have had any human contact as a kid save for my parents shuttling me around; with our kids, they have plenty of friends and plenty of socialization. (A friend of mine once asked me, “Just how many parties have you taken your kids to this month?”)

I admit I feel a pang about not acculturating my kids through music lessons (although doesn’t the occasional free classical music concert at the Kimmel give them something there?), or missing out if in fact Aaron is the next coming of LeBron James or Garry Kasparov. And at some point, it will make sense for the kids to get into something organized, so they can learn how to stick with something and not get used to flitting from one activity to another.

But for now, they’re 6 and 4, so I’m going to let them be happy-go-lucky kids. Well, happy-go-lucky kids that know their way around an urban environment and learn to mingle with all sorts of people from all walks of life. Besides, a whole city’s worth of fun awaits them. And, as of later this month, I will be with subway pass, and don’t think I’m not going to use that for all it’s worth to tool around with the kids and see what sort of fun we can get ourselves into.

Committed to Memory

I'm about one-quarter of the way through my list of 100 Bible passages I'm trying to commit to memory this year. It's been a really rewarding experience, and I'm kicking myself that I didn't start this sooner. There's something really good about trying to memorize a couple of sets of verses each week, for if there were ever anything worth mulling over and meditating on, it is God's Word.

From a human standpoint, I have been decidedly mediocre at this task. The verses that seem to stick are ones that I had previously memorized or had some familiarity with. If a passage was unfamiliar or more than a couple of sentences, I might go a whole week with it and still not be able to recite it. Hopefully, if I can make this an annual exercise, more will stick.

But the point of all this, of course, is deeper than memorization for memorization's sake, as if I were a starving actor trying desperately to learn his lines. The Bible is what I have chosen to be my life instruction book. Knowing some pieces of it by heart is good for my soul, good for instructing others, good for recalling what is true in moments where truth is desperately needed.

I close by commending the exercise to you as well. And, having just found a nice booklet to assist in this effort, I commend it to you as well, referred to me from the Desiring God blog: "An Approach to Extended Memorization of Scripture," by Dr. Andrew Davis.

Who Are the Cowards

It is easy to label our congressional representatives as cowards for continuing to punt on the hard issues we need to face up to as it relates to our national deficit. Republicans don't want to give in on tax hikes, Democrats don't want to give in on spending cuts, and so we have compromise "solutions" that are no solution at all, or we have threats to shut the whole thing down. Man up, many of us seem to be saying, and make the hard decisions, instead of caving in to special interest. Think of the long-term damage we are blindly heading into, we warn, instead of just thinking about what will get you elected in two to four years.

Ah, but there's the rub. How often in our professional lives do we see past our immediate self-interest to do what is best for the greater good? Wouldn't we also take actions to make sure our jobs were secure first, no matter how grand our promises were to "make this world a better place" in our initial interviews?

And, in a representative democracy, if our elected officials are making decisions to avoid popular blowback, isn't that kind of the same as them acting out "the will of the people"? Aren't we just as complicit in our attitude of short-sightedness, by the messages we are conveying to them about what our wishes are?

In fact, I would argue that we are worse, in a sense, than they are. We all want our perk, and we want it at no cost to ourselves, or at least make someone else pay for it. Republicans talk about reigning in spending, but when the spending cuts affect the things they're interested in, all of a sudden they get indignant. Democrats heap indignation on anyone who would suggest cutting our entitlement programs, not realizing that if we don't get our fiscal act together, those entitlements are going to choke out our ability to pay for any discretionary social spending.

You can excuse our congressional representatives for wondering how to respond to such mixed messaging. Elected officials act with some degree of logic in this context when they act "cowardly" and punt the issue ahead to the next Congress or the next generation. Because they see those who put them in power essentially asking for them to do just that. And the hole we are digging ourselves into keeps getting deeper.

To be sure, I'm not letting Congress completely off the hook. They do need to show a spine, they do need to learn to work together, and they do need to deal directly with the big problems and not obfuscate or spin.

But we need to take some responsibility, too. "We the People" are still the ones in charge in this country still, aren't we? The bill has come due, and it seems to me we prefer to scold others for ordering too much or guilt someone else into paying more because they make more than we do, rather than settling our accounts and moving on.

Lazy Linking, 41st in an Occasional Series

Stuff I liked on the Internets lately:

41.1. Indoor cannabis production has a huge carbon footprint. Left-leaning stoners all up and down California are conflicted. [Hat tip: Marginal Revolution.]

41.2. 911 needs help adapting to a world of increasing cell and VOIP usage. This sounds like a job for Code for America.

41.3. Where can I put money on the wager, "Allen Iverson will be dead or in jail before year-end?" This is sad to watch.

41.4. Love that part of being a great artist is being boring, so as to not waste energy outside of your creative work. If this is true, I am well on my way to becoming Da Vinci. [Hat tip: kottke.org.]

41.5. Megabus, Bolt, et al running circles around high-speed rail. We've come a long way from ghetto Chinatown bus that made unscheduled stops, played strange karaoke music, and smelled of urine.

What I Have in Common with Philly's Top Cop and Three of its Four Aces

Twenty years ago this month, I checked in with my parents to see if all of the schools I had gotten into were "on the table" from a financial standpoint. Hearing that they all were, I went to my bedroom, closed the door, and began making notes about pros and cons of various places. Out of four schools, things quickly narrowed between Berkeley and Penn. Berkeley was 45 minutes from my house. I knew about 100 people there already, and 25 more from my class were going, including some of my very best friends. I had spent two weeks living there the summer before, at a speech and debate camp. It was a top-notch school, in a funky urban setting, and long my top choice for those and other reasons.

And yet, having just returned from an East Coast swing to check out Penn, I couldn't shake the thought that perhaps Penn was where I ought to go. I had hit it off with my advisor. The business school was second to none. And, most importantly, it felt like a bigger step in my life, whereas Berkeley seemed a smaller step. Wasn't college about launching out into new territory? Going to Berkeley, in contrast, seemed like just an extension of what I already knew. And so a fateful choice was made. I arrived on campus later that year.

Of course, plenty of people come to Philly for school. Many from out of town, though, leave town upon graduation. In the mid-1990's, when Silicon Valley was exploding and Center City and University City weren't nearly what they are now, it seemed a curious move for this Cali boy to stay put, and get a job at an obscure local non-profit helping minority entrepreneurs. Sure, you could've spun my choice as sacrificial, and part of me thought of the matter in those terms: God wants me to stay here in the inner city to make a difference. Downward mobility, then, was my intentional response to a culture that seeks self, comfort, and status.

But even then, I did not think Philadelphia itself to be second-class. I may have been making less than my peers, at a far less glamorous position, and in a far less renowned city. But there was, even back then, a lot to like about Philly. Come see for yourselves, I would tell my friends and family, especially those who thought of the place as a ghetto or patted me on the head for staying behind when they and others had moved on; it's a surprisingly good place to visit, and a really good place to live.

Circa 2011, much more of the world knows this. Philly is cooler with the young guns now, after stints in the limelight courtesy of Real World, Live8, and X Games. University City has become a wonderful place to raise a family and putter around with kids. Center City is a destination of choice, rich with sidewalk cafes and cultural amenities and world-class restaurants.

Tellingly, the very best in their field are choosing Philadelphia. We all know about Cliff Lee and his wife falling in love with the place, and we have reciprocated with adulation. This past week, Mayor Nutter's top cop, Charles Ramsey, spurned the heavy courtship of new Chicago mayor Rahm Emanuel to return to his hometown and decided instead to stay in Philly. In addition to chocolate cupcakes and a baseball signed by all of the Phillies' starting pitchers, Commissioner Ramsey was presented with a placard from the Greater Philadelphia Marketing Tourism Corporation that read, "What would Cliff Lee do?"

What Cliff Lee did, of course, was choose the Phillies, and, because of the heavy influence of his wife, Philadelphia. So did Roy Halladay and Roy Oswalt the two years before. And so did Commissioner Ramsey. Take that, New York and Chicago!

And take that, Silicon Valley. You had a lot going for you, just like New York did for Cliff Lee (big bucks, big spotlight) and Chicago did for Charles Ramsey (hometown, bigger city). But I chose Philly, and am always glad when others come to the same conclusion.

Evening News

A quick plug for tonight's Full Measure concert on the Penn campus. 7 to 9 at the Cathedral at 38th and Chestnut. This is Penn's Christian a capella group, which Amy and I were actually members of (at different times) when we were wee undergrads.

I wish I could tell you more about the concert or about what Full Measure is like as of the start of the new millennium. But, I was supposed to go to an alumni dinner when I came home from work that evening and Amy told me she wasn't feeling well. So I decided to stay in, sent an apologetic email to the dinner coordinator, and was soon fast asleep on account of being old and tired.

Yup, this is what our Friday nights consist of. I was actually out late (well, late for me: 10ish) one night this week, a combination of our monthly church leadership meeting followed by hitting the neighborhood grocery store for a few things for a luncheon Amy was going to mid-week. And that one night just wrecked me. And so what if it had been two late nights in one week? Well, maybe it was just merciful that I couldn't make the Full Measure dinner.

In contrast, apparently the rest of the world actually does stuff in the evenings. I went to one meeting which concluded with two colleagues of mine, both older than me, kibbitzing about this big gala thing or that big gala thing that they were going to end up at that night. It was a Wednesday! Meanwhile, I routinely hear my twenty-something co-workers in the hallways swapping tips about fun things to do at night.

I say all this neither to wallow in my pathetic existence nor to wear my asceticism as a badge of honor. Really, I'm not unhappy about my lack of social life, and far from being proud I'm more than a little embarrassed.

But, ultimately, as an introvert, I need my alone time. My busyness means I need my sleep. My drivenness means I make choices to not do some things so that I have more time and energy for other things. And, I suppose the four-year-old and six-year-old have something to do with my lack of evening plans and my lack of energy even if I did have plans. So, at least for now, I'll have to take it easy on those evening plans.

Other City Council Candidates to Watch

Although I am 110 percent behind David Oh, I would be remiss if I did not also mention two other City Council candidates who I hold some allegiance to. Thankfully, neither are competing directly against David, so I can commend them both to you with my whole heart.

* Andy Toy ran for City Council at Large on the Democratic side in 2007, and is at it again. He and I have intersected a bunch, first when he was with LISC Philadelphia (and my firm was doing a big study for them) and then when he was employed at The Enterprise Center.







* Kenyatta Johnson and I share an alma mater, Fels, a biographical note which endeared me to him when I testified before a state legislative committee he was on and I had to state my credentials at the beginning of my remarks. He is the state representative for the 186th district (South Philadelphia) who is now seeking to be the city councilperson for the 2nd district, which is much of South and Southwest Philadelphia and therefore intersects with territory he already knows well.







I can't vote for either in the election that matters to them, which is the primary next month - since Democrats outnumber Republicans by so much, whichever D's win in May are almost assured a seat in November - but I give them my endorsement here in this space, whatever that's worth. If you can vote for them, I encourage you to do so. You will not find a finer combination of intellect, public servanthood, and love for city than these two.

Things That Make Me Happy, the "Weekend in Pictures" Version

I set up two shoe cubbies in the foyer of our house. The kids excitedly put their shoes away.
















Baby shower for Amy's co-worker = lots of really good free food for me and the kids.












Promising sign for a church that seeks to grow: at fellowship hour, the kids table is full.

















Bird Sanctuary clean-up just outside our back lot. Kids dive in with gusto, raking leaves and moving branches.









The Bird Sanctuary, long after we had left, looks real good thanks to the tireless efforts of many of our neighbors who put in a lot more hours than we did. Not a bad little natural oasis smack dab in the middle of our urban neighborhood and right outside our back lot!

Musings on the Intersection of Religion, Politics, and Governance in America

If discussing religion or politics is like wading into a crocodile-infested swamp, then what about discussing religion and politics? And yet these are two important facets of our lives, our beliefs, and our society. So in I go.

Living as a Christian in a Western democracy, I have a certain point of view about religion and politics, which I hope is somewhat internally consistent, and a certain sense of what is right and wrong, which I admit is finite and flawed. To unpack these concepts, let's consider some questions in turn, with my ramblings after each.



1. Is it right to mix religion and politics?

I think it's fairly sensible to find some middle ground between thinking that my faith precludes me from having any contact with the political realm, and thinking that my faith precludes me from being able to accept the viewpoints and contributions of others I interact with politically who don't share my beliefs. So, as a follower of Jesus and a believer in the Bible, I consider it important to both engage politically (and not think the whole thing too sullied to wade into) and to learn from and coalesce with others who are not of my faith persuasion (and not think that those different from me have nothing of truth or value to offer to my causes).



2. Should our faith values influence what we hope for out of our governmental institutions?

Again, it seems a moderate position is the most consistent with my beliefs. On the one hand, try as our politicians might to turn me completely off to the American political process, it seems incorrect and ineffective to completely detach from our governmental structures. On the other hand, it is tempting but wrong to place too much faith in politicians and in systems to be the answer to all of life's injustices.



3. When is government the right solution to a problem?

The nervousness I have about Tea Partiers is that they often come off as wanting to start a fight more than wanting to effect a change. And, as with any human organization, the temptation is great for them to so revel in their cause that they become the monster they seek to slay: power and publicity has a way of corrupting us like that.

That being said, a central tenet of the Tea Party is that government needs to be put back in its place, and a central source of the Tea Party's rage is that government has gotten out of control to the point that it needs to be put back in its place. We have seen far too many examples of weak and ineffective government, to be sure, so there is a role for reforming and strengthening it; but we have also seen far too many examples of government that overreached and in doing so atrophied our civic muscles and left us weaker and not stronger.

The remarkable thing about our earliest days as a nation, and to this day still a characteristic that differentiates us from most other countries, is the incredible grassroots fervor we display. It is quintessentially American, when we see something that needs to change, to organize and make that change. We are truly a nation of "we the people." Now, we need government to play its part in that change, for there are certain ways in which the structure of government is in fact the best way to approach a particular problem. But it is government that works with, and is accountable to, "we the people," and not government doing for the people.



4. What should we care about, and what does government have to do with that?

And so those first three questions are a long and windy lead-in to where people usually tend to start, when they talk about the influence of religious beliefs in political engagement. As Christians, it is right for us to care about the environment, defense of the most vulnerable among us, and the provision of safety nets and income redistributing mechanisms to ensure that those who have resources can help those who lack them. When Republicans vilify Democrats for being pro-choice (is there any population more defenseless than a baby in the womb?), or when Democrats vilify Republicans for not supporting social programming (is there any more common running theme in the Bible, besides "love God," than "take care of the poor among you"?), it makes them feel good about themselves but it isn't really a fair way to start a discussion.

For all of the discord that we read about in the papers and watch on cable TV, I actually think there is a fair amount that the vast majority of Americans can agree on. We all want the same general things for ourselves, our communities, and our country, because we all buy into the same general narrative about what America represents: the land of opportunity, the melting pot, the experiment in government that is based on the notion that we are endowed by our Creator with inalienable rights to life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness, the sense that we are a "we the people." What is up for grabs are not these core values, but if and how government plays a role in mediating our day-to-day experience of them and in mediating our interactions with one another and with the rest of the world in upholding them.

What's beautiful about America is not that I am right and you are wrong, or I am wrong and you are right. What's beautiful is that we all have the same general take on what this whole thing is about, but it means different things for each of us, because of our differences in worldview and station in life, and we differ in our sense of what role government and governance have to play in managing all of this. I think this is what the Founding Fathers anticipated and wanted, and I think that if they were alive today they would marvel at how their concepts have played out over the past 200+ years.



5. Is the majority always right?

If there is anything the Christian should have over many others, it is patience. Patience because it is a gift from God and a commandment from God, and patience because of our belief in the ultimate sovereignty of God and in the eternal nature of our souls. The thing I have appreciated about our country is that it is one of majority rule, and one that is fluid enough for sentiments to change over time such that what the majority ruled before may not be what it will rule in the future. In light of the volatility in the Middle East, consider how remarkable it is that every four to eight years, we turn over our top office to someone new even though upwards of 49 (or more?!?) percent of voters (let alone non-voters) did not want that person. And, when you read about folks who fought against grave injustices (the civil rights movement comes to mind easily), you are struck by the certainty of their beliefs: they may be in the minority today, but time will prove their cause to be right, and someday it will be validated by government (through legislation and/or election).

Alas, us Christians have not shown such patience or certainty. We act haughty and entitled when we are in the majority. And we antagonize and demonize when we are in the minority. Whatever happened to a mindset of sober stewardship when in power, that understands the grave responsibility we have been given to govern with integrity? And whatever happened to a mindset of faithful opposition when out of power, that submits to the will of the people but continues to make an honest case for what is believed to be right, believing that if it is right then it will come to pass someday?

Cynically, many of us have opted out of engagement altogether; while, drunk with power, many of us have gone in the other direction and sought authority that isn't ours to wield. We have a ways to go in being right with our Creator and the Biblical principles we purport to uphold. And, as is evidenced by the long and convoluted structure of this post, I am far from settled in my own mind. But I will continue to muse, glad for a nation where I am free to do so, and glad for a God who has given me guidance on if and how to engage in such a nation.

Lazy Linking, 40th in an Occasional Series

What I liked lately on the Internets:

40.1. Question: why don't as many female economists blog? My guess: econ blogging is all about impressing some and vanquishing others, which are typically more male traits.

40.2. David Brooks shares some tools for our cognitive toolkits.

40.3. Keith Hennessey asks - when we argue about the deficit, is it because we want change or is it because we want a fight?

40.4. Megan McArdle takes the New York Times to task for taking GE to task for daring to try to lower their tax bill.

40.5. A nice piece about the role of Woodlands Cemetery in its urban setting. [Note: this is less than a mile from where I live, and yet I've never been. I will have to rectify that.]

40.6. Odometer economics. [Odonomics?]

40.7. The Economist debates Japanese-style incrementalism vs. US-style disruptive entrepreneurship. The US wins. Long live Schumpeter!

40.8. Loved this Bart Lipman interview about economics and marriage.

40.9. Katie Couric and Howard Schultz argue about the price of coffee at Starbucks. My verdict: both are wrong and both are annoying.

40.10. Two of Penelope Trunk's three points about Gen Z, education, and the future of work are about home-schooling. Is it really that prevalent? I don't know. I would love to hear more about this.

Pass Happy

I think that the only thing more boring to hear about, besides someone else's fantasy sports teams, is someone's commuting routines. But this is my blog and I'll do what I want.

With our company's move downtown now less than three weeks away, I'm really starting to think about what to do in terms of getting the kids to school and myself to work. I've gone back and forth between bike, transit, or a combination of the two.

As of now, I think I'm leaning towards ditching the bike and going all SEPTA. I'm getting old and the kids are getting heavy, so even though the distance I would be biking with Aaron in the back seat wouldn't change, it may be time to give that up. Not to mention the fact that my bicycle is now 13 years old and has a lot of mileage on it.

Relying on public transit does have its downsides. Notably, I'm beholden to SEPTA's schedule, and on days I have to drop off or pick up both kids (which is most days), it'll mean waiting for two buses that don't come very frequently and do get stuck in rush hour. Which means that my commute will lengthen considerably, from less than a half hour to as much as over an hour, depending on traffic. Which I'm not looking forward to. Plus I'm giving up exercise (maybe 15 miles a week, most of which I'm carrying about 40 pounds of extra weight), and having to pay about $1000 a year for a pass.

About that pass, though. It's not really $1000 a year, because I'll be using pre-tax money. And, because it's unlimited, I can use it for personal trips. So the net damage to my wallet is probably closer to $50 a month.

I'll look back fondly on my seven months of biking madness. There were probably 10 or 15 days total that I didn't use a bike, which means I got a good 500 miles of riding in. I got soaked by rain, rode in snow, rode on snow, and wore a ski mask for two months. I probably got cut off dozens of times, including at least two handfuls of heart-stoppers and fist-shakers. I subjected the kids, mostly Aaron, to some really nasty weather, but also to some quality bonding time to feel the breeze and be pressed up against their daddy's back.

In three weeks, I'll trade that all in for a pass. And, with its unlimited usability, I'm sure I'll exploit that for all its worth, taking myself and the kids all over town. If so, I'll be sure to subject you loyal readers to the most banal of accounts. Don't say I didn't forewarn you.

Right Justify

I assume you didn't fall for my spoof post yesterday. "A poor silly fad" is an anagram for "April Fools' Day." And, you should know me well enough to know that the fact that I am surrounded by Democrats makes me more likely to stay Republican, not less; although not to stand out, but just to ensure a balanced discussion and to be sharpened by hearing constant arguments against what I believe.

I remain a Republican, albeit a moderate one. I believe that military force is sometimes needed, although 1) be restrained in its use, 2) be clear in its purpose, and 3) be decisive. I am socially conservative in terms of protecting life (against abortion), but not in terms of "defending traditional values" (for gay marriage). When it comes to immigration, upholding the rule of law needs to be balanced with the vital past and future role of immigrants in shaping our nation.

Most of all, I believe that it is too easy to exercise power and spend other people's money, so while I am not an extreme libertarian (some regulations make sense because the government sometimes is the best vehicle to uphold them) or a Tea Partier (some tax increases and spending increases are justified), I do tend to be regulation-averse, tax-averse, and spending-averse. At the very least, I believe the burden of proof is on the side of more and bigger government.

Some may argue that the Republican Party has betrayed these values, and I would have to say that is often correct. It may seem weird to be loyal to a party even if you are not loyal to its leaders and even if its leaders are not loyal to its values. But it seems right to me.

Switching Teams

This is an announcement that has been a long time coming, but I think I'm ready to go public. Very quietly, at around the same time I was canvassing my neighborhood with my kids in search of registered Republicans to sign my petition to make sure David Oh could get on the ballot, I myself was switching my registration to the Democratic Party. And, unlike many around here who have done so because it's the Democratic elections that matter around here, I'm switching my registration because I'm switching teams.

Yeah, all of you D's who have been sending me stories and arguments about evil Republicans have finally worn me out. All of you who have wondered if I wasn't a closet D all along were probably right. My disillusionment runs deep as a result of the behavior and hypocrisy of GOP leaders at all levels. And the circles I run in are so predominantly Democratic that it will be nice to finally say "I'm one of you, too."

So to my right-leaning friends, I'm sorry to leave you, and to my left-leaning colleagues, welcome me without suspicion. Hopefully my run on the side of the R's can be chalked up as a poor silly fad.