petermaize

Life IS a dress rehearsal

Spare Change We Can Believe In

I have never met a native-born American who realized, all by themselves, that there are no numerals on U.S. coins denoting their value.

If you grow up in the States, the worth of a specific coin is one of those things that seems almost inborn, like knowing which way to turn a faucet handle. But for first-time visitors to the United States, our coins can be an aggravation, a puzzle, a bewilderment. Because, unlike other currencies around the world, there is no way for a foreigner–even one who speaks some English–to guess the worth of our coins.

Can’t judge by size: pennies and nickels are larger than 10-cent pieces.  And not by the words printed on them: even our English speaking visitor would be befuddled by the term “One Dime” written on the tiniest coin. Most Americans could not explain where that term came from. “Quarter dollar” is barely more helpful to the visitor.

I once travelled to the U.S. with a Chinese TV crew. We stayed at one of those motels that kept an ice machine and a soft drink machine humming in a small room off the hallway. One night I passed by the little room and discovered my colleague softly cursing while popping pennies and nickels into the Coke machine, futilely attempting to get a soft drink out of it.

That’s when I learned, to my surprise, that American coins don’t have numerals.

Most Americans can tell you that the phrase E Pluribus Unum is inscribed on our coins. I’m hopeful that many people could explain that E Pluribus Unum means “out of many, one”. The phrase is also on the Great Seal of the United States. A Swiss-born American, Pierre Eugene de Simitiere,  suggested adding the phrase to the seal when it was deigned during the Revolutionary War. Over time it has come to refer to the melting pot make-up of the United States, with its mix of races, religions and ancestries.

 

Heidi Ho and Ironman meet Gladys

My daughter is tutoring young Hong Kong kids this summer. Last month a new student entered the classroom, owlish and pensive. She bent down, smiled and asked his name.

“Ironman,” he replied.

Okay. Ironman it is. And your sister? Referring to the even younger girl beside him.

“I’m Boo Boo.”

Ironman and Boo Boo. Now, you might assume these are the temporary, made-up monikers of tiny tots who will soon assume more standard English names. But in Hong Kong, where everyone gets to choose their own English name, it is quite possible that Ironman and Boo Boo will choose to become Video and Spatula. Or Circle and Nearly.

This is one of the endearing features of Hong Kong society. Your Chinese name is carefully chosen by your grandparents, and when translated to English has an exotic and mystical quality: Bright Spring; Small Peace. But your English name can be all yours.

So why not be Horatio? Or Purple? Or Value?

Over the years I have met a Thousand, a Million (but no Billions yet). A Photon and an Atom.

At a staff event a few years back, a young lady sauntered up to me, extended her hand and said, “I am woman.”

I did not ask to hear her roar. But I did receive her business card, which indicated that she is indeed, Woman Wu. I prefer that name to the one chosen by my wife’s former colleague: Fishman. Fishman is also a woman.

I have met a Heidi Ho and an Ivan Ho. An Egg. A 50-year-old woman who inexplicably chose the name Porno. I do not know why. There are variations on a theme: Vincy, Wincy, Winnie and Winky. Making up your own name is not only accepted, it is preferred. Even if you might not be able to pronounce it yourself. I’m talking to you, Edthancy.

You can be pretty much any fruit you choose: Orange, Strawberry, Cherry, and Apple, long before Gwyneth thought it up. Or you  might prefer old-fashioned names that haven’t been common in the West for decades: Prudence, Gladys, Bernice, Bertha.

This is the beauty of it: you are not restricted by the current trends, customs or preferences of native English speakers, where it seems that out of nowhere, all babies have the same name. This year it’s Emma or Noah. A few years ago it was Isabella or Alexandra or Zachary.

Ha! In Hong Kong you can be Apollo if you wish, and no one will look at you funny. Want to be an adverb? Go for it. I was helped by a very nice young man in an appliance store named Thickest. I didn’t ask how he got the name. I just thought it was cool that Thickest helped me find a microwave oven.

So Ironman and Boo Boo are free to stick with those names, or perhaps in a few years a young man, with years of study behind him, will extend his hand to me and say, in perfect English, “Hi, I’m Thor.” Or the young man might have decided he likes the name Ironman after all.

After the Orlando massacre, Facebook is filled with posts about gun control. My friends who oppose the proliferation of assault weapons talk of background checks and restrictions on ownership, while my friends who feel strongly about the Second Amendment seem quite concerned that a constitutional right will be taken away from them. Both sides invoke protection and safety, but from two very different vantage points.

You’ve heard the arguments before: “we need more good guys with guns” and “the only purpose of an AR-15 is to gun down lots of humans.”

I must admit it pains me that so many of my devout Christian friends feel so strongly about their right to possess guns. There appears to be a correlation between evangelical Christianity and adamant support for unrestricted gun ownership. Where does this come from? I can only draw the conclusion that these people are actually more American than Christian, that the American tradition of strength, self-reliance and personal freedom runs deeper in them than Jesus’s teachings on nonviolence and self-sacrifice. It’s the American heritage. We are, after all, a mighty nation.

The message of Christ has always seemed like foolishness to the world. People who prefer dogma and power can boldly preach the Ten Commandments, but they cannot live the explicit commandment to truly love their enemies, with all that might entail. A good guy with a gun seems smart. An unarmed man wielding love as his only weapon seems foolish.  Yet it works: nonviolent Christians overcame a mighty nation–the most powerful empire the world had ever seen, and they did it without force of arms. They did it through love and peace and following the words of Christ.

It is a narrow gate, and you won’t be allowed to bring an assault rifle through it.

 

 

 

IDENTITY

A few stories for you. When I worked in Arkansas at a TV station, I had a colleague who was looking for a job in a more cosmopolitan location. The standard practice back then was to send a tape of your work to another TV station and hope they liked what they saw.

Well, one station did like what they saw. They only asked my friend to make one small adjustment: they wanted him to change his name. You see, my friend had a white American father and a Korean mother. There are many stories of American servicemen falling in love with women in Japan, Korea, Vietnam and elsewhere, marrying them and bringing them home to the State. My friend, Bob, looked Asian but sounded and acted as culturally American as you could be. But his last name was a very standard Anglo-Saxon one, and the news director who was considering Bob thought this was too disconcerting for the viewers.

He asked Bob to change his last name to “something Asian. Lee, Kim, whatever.” So to get the job, my friend changed his last name to fit in more easily to American stereotypes. Didn’t really matter that Kim is a Korean surname and Lee is Chinese. After all, they are all Asians.

My son was born in Hong Kong. He’s a big white guy with an accent that usually sounds British. He has the unusual situation ofof being an American born in a British colony and raised in China (Hong Kong being part of China, even though it has a unique status). He is a professional rugby player, and in order to play in the Olympics for the territory he calls home, he had to     his American passport and apply for a Hong Kong Special Administrative Region one. They are hard to come by, and almost none of the Indian and Pakistani nationals who who have lived in Hong Kong for generations will ever be able to get one.

Because ethnicity and nationality are still correlated in much of the world. In the United States, where anyone can become an American, we often forget this fact. But in many countries, you can never become a naturalized citizen if you don’t match the racial/ethnic profile associated with that country. This is outdated and ridiculous in the 21st century. But around the world, a person’s skin color still is a pre-dominant determinant of who they are. This becomes even more ridiculous when you remember that a black guy from Los Angeles or a black woman from Tulsa don’t have that much in common with residents of Ghana or Ethiopia culturally or socially. It’s a heritage thing.

Heritage. I’ve lived in Hong Kong for 25 years, but when people ask “where are you from?” they want to know what country I was born in; what my passport says. My daughter, who was born in Hong Kong and viewed the U.S. as a place to visit in the summer, has no choice but to answer “America” to the question. Any other answer leads to a series of increadingly forceful questions that eventually lead to the answer, “America.” Then the questioner is satisfied.

I have many friends who have adopted Chinese orphans. These children are raised by white parents and have white siblings. Occasionally, as they grow up, some are curious about their heritage. But what does it mean to find your roots in China? China is a culture that includes 55 minorities that were engulfed by the Han majority over the centuries. A generation ago, the Communists denounced traditional Chinese culture as “feudal superstition.” Now they promote “socialism with Chinese characteristics, which allows the government to pretend to still be Communist.

Identity is multi-faceted and goes well beyond the simple talking points of American society, which predominantly focuses on black-white relations and related prejudices and definitions.

Power

It’s always been about Power.

In ancient times power was associated with birth, position and tradition.

Kings ruled because they were born to rule. Their wealth came from the power that they wielded over others. Today power often comes from wealth: money enables people to buy elections, influence politicians and have their way with policy. They cannot claim divine right to implement their will; they do not need to.

It’s always been about Selfishness.

I want my will to be done. Perhaps I think that I know better than the rest. Or perhaps I think I am a born leader. Or maybe I just want to exercise my will. Regardless of the motivativion, I want what I want. Power enables me to win the argument, to overrule others. To pursue my will.

Today, few rulers dare claim that their family ties alone allow them to be head of state. In most countries, modern institutions must be invoked, democracy must be mentioned. The People must have a voice. But often the People do not have Power. Unless Power is maintained with the active support and agreement of the People, it is tyranny.

It’s always been about Power.

Your Favorite Commandment

What’s your favorite commandment?

I suggest that it’s “Thou Shalt not Murder” (I love using Olde English from the King James version; it just sounds so much more majestic).

Anyhow, that’s probably your favorite.

“No, no,” I hear you say. “It’s ‘You shall have no other gods before me'”, along with the poignant elaboration that you should “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and all your mind and with all your strength.”

You’re not doing that, so you should probably choose an easier one; one you can actually comply with.

You see, you’re unlikely to murder anyone. All of us, in our internal inventory of the Ten Commandments put that one as the most serious offense a human can commit. Governments have always executed murderers; the worst transgression deserves the worst punishment.

But what is the worst transgression in God’s eyes? Civil societies categorize crimes: conviction for murder means death or life in prison. Stealing will get you time behind bars, depending on what you stole. False testimony might get you in trouble, but usually only when you do it in court, or if your spouse catches you.

Adultery used to be a crime in some states. It’s not anymore.

The Ten Commandments cover a range of behavior: some are prescriptive and some are punitive. In Moses’ time there were severe punishments for murder and adultery.

But these days, no one is going to put you in jail for not loving your neighbor enough. They might frown if you don’t honor your parents, but that commandment just isn’t deemed as serious as some of the others.

The command not to murder other people is the easiest one to follow. Then probably stealing. Then it gets tougher. How many people honor the Sabbath anymore? God said we should–or was that just for the Jews, and Jesus set the example that you could do some stuff on Sunday, as long as it was valuable? That probably includes attending your child’s sporting activities.

It’s easy to get all philosophical about these things. It’s also easy to avoid the obvous crimes while also avoiding the obvious requirements. You don’t love your neighbor as yourself. You just don’t, even if you theortecially want to, and occasionally even try to.

And in the case of loving God with all your strength and all your heart: if we really, really want to follow this Commandment, why do we act the way we do? Why is it so hard for us to employ the Sermon on the Mount? We judge, we worry, we put a thousand tiny things ahead of God. We are not Christ-like, although we are clearly called to be Christ-like.

No, the first two Commandments are the toughest. That’s why they are the first two commandments, and after Jesus confirmed this, as Mark says: “from then on no-one dared ask him any more questions.”

When you are running late for church, not every red light is a plot devised by the Enemy.

And not every green light is from God.

Sometimes they are just traffic lights, and you should have woken up earlier.

The View From a Distance

I’m an American, born a few miles from where the Beach Boys first harmonized; familiar with the hills of Arkansas, the cornfields of Western Nebraska (don’t try to eat it–it’s feed corn), the waterways of Maryland and the pageantry of an Oklahoma Sooners football game.

But these days I only get back to the U.S. once or twice a year. Maybe that makes me love the place more. The people are open and generally helpful, the supermarkets are filled with more stuff than I can fathom and the system works.

It really does. There’s room for improvement, sure. And the fact that Americans are currently engaged in a muscular debate about the correct way to align that system is good news.

Here in Hong Kong, they are also having elections. On Sunday hundreds of thousands of people will go to the polls to select representatives to our local legislature. But they won’t be electing a chief executive. They’re not allowed to. China wants to make sure that the limited democracy in Hong Kong doesn’t get out of hand, so they only allow a few hundred Friends of Beijing to choose Hong Kong’s leader. Even then, things sometimes don’t follow the Chinese game plan. This year, the wrong guy wound up winning,

Hey, that’s what happens when you let human beings have a choice.

Americans have been choosing leaders and tinkering with their system for more than 200 years. Although some people like to pretend that the Constitution was handed down from a mountaintop, it’s been amended on a regular basis and our system of government has frequently been overhauled, too. This creates friction, because Americans never agree on exactly the best way to govern their country.

This, I think, is also a good thing. It often seems that the system is broken but it never is. Just needs a tune-up. This year, despite the hollow rhetoric and vicious lies, there are some real issues to be determined.  This is healthy. And if the meanness of the campaign seems to have reached an all-time low, remember that we’ve actually gone much lower in the past.

1828 is often described as the nastiest election in the history of our republic. Andrew Jackson, “Old Hickory,” was accused of being an adulterer. His opponent, John Quincy Adams, pretended that he was above this unseemly conflict, even as his campaign accused Jackson of drunkenness, treason, murder and cockfighting. Jackson’s supporters accused Adams of being a pimp for the Russian czar and spending public funds on a billiard table for his home.

The Adams family was no stranger to political muckraking. JQ’s dad, John Adams, slugged it out with Thomas Jefferson in 1800. Adams was the incumbent president and Jefferson was his vice-president. That would be a little like Dick Cheney challenging George W. Bush in 2004, although no one would mistake Cheney and Bush for Adams and Jefferson. Interestingly, Jefferson was the leader of the Democratic-Republican party. Soon after he won the election, Jefferson’s vice president shot and killed a political enemy in a duel.

See, modern politics suddenly seems more civilized and genteel. No one has yet to accuse either of the candidates of being a cross-dresser, as Martin Van Buren was. He survived those accusations and went on to become one of the least-rememebered presidents in American history. Also, drunk people will not be allowed to attend the debates between Romney and Obama, and the audience will not be allowed to throw vegetables, both of which were common when Abe Lincoln held his celebrated debates.

Although partisan politics has reached a crescendo, the American public is presented with two distinct concepts of the role and nature of the government if they can sift through the rhetoric and falsehoods–and I think they can.

This is the way it should be. It might not feel healthy (sometimes the feeling is more akin to queasiness) but it’s a sign of a vibrant democracy when the voters can examine, discuss and debate how their republic should be organized and where it’s going. I’ve been around long enough to witness a few of these debates, and I also remember times (late 70’s, early 90’s) when America was written off as a has-been power, only to rebound with innovation and purpose.

It will happen again. That’s how I see things from my viewpoint far away. And yes, I will be voting.

 

Philistines and Pharisees, Pt. 2: Acceptable Crimes

Staunch opponents of abortion often declare that abortion is murder. They believe that life begins at conception, and therefore terminating a pregnancy at any point amounts to taking a human life.

If indeed abortion is murder, then it follows that no pregnancy can be terminated, regardless of the circumstances, since there is no such thing as “justifiable murder.” Homicide refers to the taking of a human life, and there are many legal definitions of justifiable homicide (one will be argued in the Trayvon Martin shooting). But murder by definition is the unlawful premeditated killing of one human by another. It is never legal.

It is difficult to imagine the anguish of a rape victim who is asked to give birth to her assailant’s child. But if abortion is indeed murder, then the crime of rape does not excuse the crime of murder, and the birth must take place.

Most Americans agree that abortions should be legal for rape and incest victims. A recent survey indicated that only 22% of Amercians would ban abortions in those cases. The Republican Party has taken the position in their party platform that all abortions should be outlawed in all cases.

Most anti-abortion candidates for high office would allow abortions under certain circumstances. This is bad logic, but good politics. Politicians must appeal to a diverse electorate. Advocating the strictest interpretation of abortion means alienating a large percentage of voters. However, if you oppose abortion in some cases but not all, then abortion is merely homicide–and in some cases, it is justifiable homicide. Suddenly the moral imperative to ban abortion disappears. When the cause of the pregnancy is deemed too abhorent, then abortion is okay. This is moral relativism. It is the position of the Pharisees.

The Philistines have their own viewpoint on abortion, and it is no more intellectually stable than the Pharisees’. They argue that life does not begin at conception, but at some later point during the pregnancy. If you kill a baby moments after it is born, that is murder most horrible. And probably two months before birth is also reprehensible. But maybe five months is okay. No crime. No guilt. They don’t want to deal with the clear fact that once conception begins, a human being will surely result unless action is taken to prevent it. Devising arbitrary concepts of “when a person becomes a person” is semantics, not ethics.

Christians are not called to be moral relativists. Successful politicians must be. Christians don’t believe that “the end justifies the means”, but that is part of politics. Now, of course there are many Christian politicians: most people in Congress would identify themselves as Christians. But for the most part they end up acting like Pharisees, because they want to legislate human behavior without applying the teachings of Christ. “Do not resist an evil man…turn the other cheek” isn’t good national defense. More importantly, it won’t get you elected. There are plenty of clear directives from Jesus that Christians are called to follow, but they are deemed too unrealistic to actually be implemented in real life. As Captain Barbosa would say, “it’s more what you’d call ‘guidelines’ than actual rules.”

Hence, the world doesn’t change.

In 2004, when the atrocities at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq became known, imagine what would have happened if America’s evangelical leaders had called a news conference to announce publicly and clearly that “Christians don’t torture.” The world would have taken notice, non-Christians would have gained a new appreciation of the faith and a moral tone would have been set for the nation.

But moral relativism means that often we behave in ways that serve our larger goals, or protect our interests (personal or national). Our prejudices and preferences also get in the way. American Christians promote firearms in ways that no other Christian society does. Our love of guns is obviously anithetical to the teachings of Christ. But if religion is merely rules, then we can still be good Christians if we follow the rules we create for ourselves–and impose on others.

Pharisees are all about rules. Philistines are all about uninhibted pursuit of selfish desires.

Jesus is all about love, compassion and sacrifice. Sacrifice! For strangers and enemies! Not too appealing to either Philistines or Pharisees. So instead they debate an issue like abortion where politics and situation ethics determine their positions, and both sides feel content that they are either protecting human rights or following God’s law. In the meantime, the Philistines ignore the fact that for most people this is an exercise in selfishness: they just want to have sex without consequences. And the Pharisees prefer to issue laws that dictate and control behavior, as if that ever worked in the past. As if laws can change the human heart.

Most people have heard of the Bible story that contains the line “Let whoever is without sin cast the first stone.”

That’s a tricky Bible story–so tricky that it’s not even included in many early versions of the New Testament. But it highlights the key distinction between the ways of the Pharisees and the way that Christians are called to act toward others. In the story, a woman has been caught in adultery. The Pharisees bring her to Jesus, which seems odd, since they would normally just judge and sentence her–to death by stoning. But the Bible says they bring the woman to Jesus “to test him, that they might have some charge against him.” They  knew that this Jesus fellow was likely to act in non-traditional ways. The hardliners wanted to show that Jesus wasn’t following the Law.

You know how the story goes. When Jesus confronted the Pharisees, they drifted away one by one, until just Jesus and the woman were left standing alone. He told her that he did not condemn her, but admonished her to “go, and sin no more.”

It’s much easier to judge people than to love them. It’s easier to engage in culture wars with Philistines, claiming they are destroying our Christian nation. But attraction works better than promotion. The way to change society is not by tacking the Ten Commandments on the courthouse wall. The best way is to lead by example, to live a life that demonstrates God’s love. The Philistines are looking for something, and think they can find it by following the selfish desires of their hearts. They look at the Pharisees, who appear to be mean-spirited hypocrites, and the Philistines reject the only answer that will truly satisfy them: a selfless love that doesn’t judge others, but merely seeks to act as Jesus has clearly taught us to act.

In the meantime, Christian politicians refuse to denounce torture, allow widespread distribution of automatic weapons, modify their positions on abortion and tell people what they want to hear. Literally following the teachings of Jesus is just too doggone dangerous. And it won’t get you elected.

“The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’s seat, so practice and observe whatever they tell you–but not what they do. For they preach, but do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on peoples’ shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger.”

“But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you shut the kindom of heaven in people’s faces. For you neither enter yourselves nor allow those who would enter to go in.”

From the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 23.

 

Who’s Your Favorite Poet?

Very few people buy books of poetry anymore.

In our age, poetry is something you’re required to read in sophomore English class, or perhaps you attempt a few verses yourself as an angst-filled teenager. After that, poetry ceases to exist. Maybe you pause to read a poem in The New Yorker as you flip through the pages, if it’s not too long. But seriously, when was the last time you read a poem?

Since the 60’s we’ve been getting our poetry from Dylan and U2 and Jay-Z. Or at least that’s what we tell ourselves.

“I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.” That’s from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock–perhaps one of those poems you had to read in sophomore poetry class. It’s a glimpse into the insecurities and impotence of a man who resigns himself to loneliness rather than risk rejection. Although much of the poem is hard to decipher, the imagery of a life measured out with tiny coffee spoons is crystal clear.

Poets use imagery in ways that rappers, rockers and divas cannot. Poets are not bound by 4/4 melodies and choruses. They make up their own meter, as T.S. Eliot did in Prufrock.

Eliot said “the progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice, a continual extinction of personality.” That’s definitely not how today’s artists operate. Self-promotion and image have replaced the introspection of the poets. Great literature makes true statements about the human condition; timeless observations on what it means to live and struggle and learn.

Where are the poets today who can share these lessons and reveal the truth? And who is listening?

 

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