My Responses to Paul Prather's thought-provoking Column on the Sin of Pride

I remember my mom, Alice, in her latter years saying that the older she got, the fewer answers she possessed.

"Heck," she added, "I'm not even sure anymore what the questions are."

That observation wasn't original with her, I imagine.

But she's the first person I heard say it.

And it didn't make much sense to me. I was young and full of sap and owned the patents on sure-fire solutions to every dilemma.

Trying to decide who to vote for in the next presidential race? I could direct you.

Trying to decide who to vote for in the next presidential race? Research their positions, find out who is funding their campaign and what they stand for, seek to understand the issues of the day by reading widely and looking out for spurious reasoning from those who are not trying to inform you but to deceive you. You have a right to an opinion in politics, it just needs to be informed and not based in faulty reasoning.

Having difficulties in your marriage? I could fix it in three simple steps.

Yes, it can be difficult to avoid problems in ones marriage, but that does not mean you cannot try to learn what the pitfalls are and how to avoid them. The science in this area may be contestable but a person who has just married should seek to become knowledgeable of the institution in which he or she is now invested. It is inevitable that we will make mistakes and be humbled by the lesson, but we must work hard at it and not simply say, whether my marriage works out or not is a matter out of my control.

Troubled by a convoluted theology? I'd unpack it for you.

Convoluted theologies do exist, as do those that are a lot better grounded in reality. We should not simply throw up our hands and say we cannot tell the difference because you can bet those who are espousing the convoluted theologies are not going to stop spreading their “truths.”

Got a squirrelly kid breaking your heart with his rebellion? I could tell you how I'd straighten him out, if I were you.

Parenting is, maybe above all else an inexact process. Like a minefield, you never know exactly where you might misstep and to deadly results. I agree with this one, but again, you should still seek to become wise and astute in your parenting practices. If you find and use the correct approaches to raising your child, the child may still rebel or turn out rotten; but it does not necessarily mean you should have done anything differently. Parents who have done the right things should not beat themselves up when the child does the wrong things anyway.

The older I get, though, the truer my mother's words become.

I see it now, Alice. I truly do.

I realize I was immature and self-deceived. Many people are.

Too often we feel required — by whom, I'm not sure — to set everyone else straight, when frankly we can't even find the wisest path for ourselves.

We voice confident opinions on weighty matters about which we know nothing.

There is no doubt that this is true, in fact, our opinions are often stronger on those things we know the least about, because we know the challenge to convince others of something that has little factual, scientific, or evidential support; will be more difficult to argue.

Eventually, we suffer a jaw-slapping dose of reality. Or several doses.

I cannot argue with this point. We are all going to eat crow at some point or another. That does not mean we were not entitled to state our opinion though. We should learn from each case, not to be silent, but work harder at understanding that which we are talking about.

These days, for me, the hardest part of my jobs as a pastor and a columnist is finding topics every week I feel strongly enough about to express opinions on.

I don't have many strong opinions left: about religion, politics, marriage, economics. Whatever the subject, I'm fairly sure I don't know the best answer.

I can certainly understand his position on this, especially if his roles as pastor and columnist do not give him much time to research subjects and become relatively authoritative on the subjects. But, if this is the case, perhaps he should consider giving up one or both of his positions. Maybe he is too strapped for time.

Because half of the sure-fire answers I patented 20 or 30 years ago turned out to be wrong. They were sure-fire until I faced complicated, bone-grinding problems of my own, tried to work my solutions on them and saw all my efforts fail.

So the lesson being wrong gave him was that he should not have had opinions in the first place or that all of his opinions are now wrong? If, for example, he had the opinion that someone should be humble and not a know it all, should he renounce that opinion because sometimes people who are arrogant and say they know something, actually turn out to have been correct?

There's nothing like experience to open your eyes.

So, the only thing experience can teach us is that the insight we gain from our experience cannot be trusted? Do you see the circularity, and utter hopelessness, in this statement?

I keep gaining more and more of it.

Much of my experience is unpleasant, and that's a good thing.

If the New Testament is to be taken at face value — and (here's a genuine opinion!) I think it largely is — pride is the sin God finds most offensive.

The irony here, of course, is that one of his few remaining opinions is that God hates pride in people. Do you see how arrogant it is for a person to say he knows exactly what God thinks? Did God choose him to send this message to us? I can see it if he quoted something like: "Pride cometh before a fall", but even that is someone else’s opinion.

I'm amused, and a bit frightened, when I encounter religious people railing against, depending on the decade, gambling, drinking, premarital sex, abortion, gay marriage or a big carbon footprint as the ultimate sin that makes God retch.

I agree here. I am sickened when I hear other people weighing in on many of the life choices of others. But if someone says a person should not abuse alcohol because it will kill them or because they might drink and drive and kills others, that to me is a sound opinion and should be stated. He makes the mistake of lumping all opinions in together. If the science says that we should be reducing our carbon footprint because of global warming, which it does; then how is me believing I should do that, in any way like my saying someone should not be allowed to marry someone of the same sex. Those are separate matters, the former based in science and the latter based in tradition and superstition.

Nope. It's pride. That's the biggie.

How prideful, to announce you are speaking for God.

Pride makes us feel superior to our fellow human beings. It enables us to ignore our own destructive actions. It lets us pretend we're so special we don't need God's mercy and don't need to show others mercy, either.

The Scripture's equally clear about the virtue that most pleases God: love.

In the biblical paradigm, love means not judging others, proving ourselves generous of wallet and spirit and, for want of a better description, basically treating everyone, regardless of his or her station or sins, the way we'd want to be treated.

There is no doubt love is wonderful and should be encouraged, but we should treat everyone the way we would want to be treated if we did the same things they did. If someone ignores science, for example, and continues to operate the corporation he runs in efficient ways, thus harming the natural environment for us all; he should be treated as harshly as I should have been treated had I done that.

It's hard to do those things as long as we feel superior.

Love, then, operates hand-in-glove with humility.

Sad to say, many of us don't come ready-made with either virtue.

From the Garden of Eden on down, outlandish hubris has been a fatal flaw of the human race. So it's in God's interest, and in our own interest, for us to discover exactly how un-superior we are. The Lord, and the very universe itself, seems dedicated to producing this discovery.

Because you're straight, are you disgusted by the idea of some man having a romantic relationship with another man?

I cannot disagree with him here. He makes a valid point.

Your favorite son, your namesake, will soon emerge from the closet.

Are you outraged by irresponsible people who make poor educational and career decisions, then expect the government to help support them financially?

I am outraged by people who make poor educational and career decisions, but I hope I can tell the difference between them and people who have been slapped with a harsh life circumstance through birth or choices someone else made for them. In both cases, they should be given our compassion and in some cases, they should be supported by the rest of us until they can get in a position to support themselves.

As you near retirement, your company will go bankrupt, you'll lose your pension and you'll find yourself begging for Medicaid.

Do you roll your eyes at slothful, broken-down folks who eat processed food, get fat and can barely walk through Wal-mart without gasping for air?

You'll run enough marathons to wear out your hips and knees and end up motoring around Walmart in one of those carts for the feeble. Despite all that fiber you digested, you'll develop colon cancer.

It is possible to make good and bad choices with respect to your health. Those who know what constitute good choices and make them, should seek to encourage those who are making bad choices to change their ways and make better choices, not make fun of them. I agree it is never effective to make fun of someone else, and yes, in part because we all have ways in which we too can be found wanting.

When such woes beset us, we ought to fling our palms up and praise God.

We've been positioned to behold the truth: we're but dust. We're at the mercy of forces beyond our control. We're silly and deluded about our wisdom and importance.

Seeing that, suddenly we crave God's forgiveness. We crave the forbearance of other people as well. Through our newfound neediness, we discover within us affection, understanding and patience toward our fellow pilgrims.

When that happens, we've crash-landed at the doorstep of heaven.

Happy Phased-In Retirement, Ed Wilson

Everywhere I turn lately, I am confronted with the notion of retirement. I have lifelong friends who have been retired for almost a decade, some who have recently retired and just this week; one of my dearest friends, Joel Edward (Ed or Head) Wlison, begins his phased-in retirement from his 35-year teaching career, over 30 of which were at Eastern Kentucky University in the math department. It would not bother me so much, but it took me four and a half years of undergraduate work in English and Psychology, two years working on a masters in Psychology and seven years finishing a Ph.D. in Industrial-Organizational Psychology; to get in to my profession. Then it took me from 1988 until 2005 to become a full professor. So, I have been a “Professor” for less than a decade! Until recently, I have considered the high time-and-effort cost of getting my job, to be so great; I would probably never retire. Now, I must say, watching friends retire and mulling over my own options, I am having second thoughts.

Ed and I have run a lot together - pretty much every time we see one another. He ran cross-country in high school and was pretty good at it. I did not become a more serious runner until later in life, running my first marathon in 2003; and it was as if Ed was thrilled to see one of his friends get into something he had loved as a young man, and so he revived his running around the time I started mine and we have run over a dozen races together over the last decade, and are both signed up for the St. Jude Marathon this coming December.

This past spring, Ed and I were running in Pigeon Forge, where we and other friends were gathered for some rest and relaxation. We tend to run from the Tanger Outlets toward Gatlinburg and on many days, we go all the way to the official end of Pigeon Forge, turn around and run back to the outlets. On this occasion, we were running along and he was slightly ahead of me when we came to an intersection. He thought the young lady in the cool little jeep saw him, so he ran on, but just as he was in front of her vehicle, she took off rapidly; trying to beat the oncoming traffic, obviously not having seen Ed. He put his hand on the right front fender of her vehicle and pushed himself back, doing a little dance and giving himself clearance as she zoomed out into the traffic. Apparently she looked in her mirror and saw what she had done because despite the fact that she was now out in the traffic, she slowed almost to a stop as if to apologize. She motioned with her hand, as if to say she was sorry and moved ahead.

I watched the whole thing unfold in a few seconds and I must say it shook me. Ed and I have both had close calls before, but this one was really close and if Ed had been hit, I would have been a few feet away from it. After we finished running, I texted my wife that Ed had almost been hit by a car and I had seen it all happen, and though I was pretty shaken, I was going to be okay and for her not to worry about me. As you can tell, I was being my usual hilarious self.

The truth is, though, life is all about us; isn’t it? Ed and I kept on running that day and on our way back to the outlets, I started quizzing him on the details of his pending phased retirement. He told me what was going to happen, how it would take a total of three years, how he would probably only teach in the Fall from now on and such. I told how I felt about him and our other friends retiring, how I would rather not even think about it.

You see, Ed being almost hit in front of my eyes and Ed retiring so soon while I am still trying to enjoy my career; both illustrate, how our only way of experiencing the world is personal. I can empathize, I can commiserate, I can even grieve; but I am trapped in a private room.  

I can only feel what goes on inside my own skin. I am glad Ed was not hit. I suppose I am okay with him retiring. But ultimately my ostensibly humorous text to Tanga, was accurate. I deeply love Ed and my three other close friends who have retired and I certainly do not want to see any of them mowed down by a jeep; but in the end, it is about what their retirements and their fates in general mean to me being mowed down or not and to me retiring or not.

Someone has said, all of poetry is about death and I can see that. Over the course of my life, I have written hundreds of poems and no matter what each was “about”, I am sure death or its career equivalent – retirement, were not far from my mind. It takes a sense of urgency to write a poem and the greatest urgency comes from finality.

I hope Ed and my other recently-retired or soon-to-retire friends have great retirements and live longer even than I do – of course, I plan to live forever; but sometimes the thought of all this finality, fills me with such urgency, all I want to do is write poetry.

As I said, recently my thoughts have begun to change. What if I had more time to write poetry, short stories, and who knows what else? How many more years will I be capable of producing anything like art, something of quality? When I think of it this way, it makes me wonder if Ed and my other retired friends are not on to something. Maybe it’s time for me to begin figuring out a way to move on to the next phase of life, the phase when I apply my energy to what matters most – to “setting the record straight.”

Here is a poem I wrote recently on the subject:

I knew it early on…

Or had a sneaking suspicion, anyways…

This thing will have a hairy ending

I got the feeling when at four years old

The preacher scared me under conviction

And I cried to the alter

And was later baptized

It hit me again when I surrendered to preach

Before I was old enough to drive

It was in the back of my mind

Nights in the dorm

When my view of eternity began to blur

But it may have hit me hardest

The Saturday night I married

Or was it the Wednesday night

My daughter was born?

The few pictures from those evenings

Show me in a trance

And now, as well as I can infer

Some people think of me as old

Or as they say - older

Fading like newspaper in the sun

They exclude me from young-people dreams

I have begun to see my age in large numbers

On buildings, on passing cars, or in the sky

As I run through my town

It’s true…I have long suspicioned it to be so

I get the feeling

I may have to speak my mind

To exert myself

Pretty soon I think the day is coming

I may have to set the record straight

Finally, summoning up all my selflessness, - all three or four ounces of it -  let me say this:

Happy phased-in retirement Ed Wilson and watch out for those jeeps.

My Friend, the Life Saver

A good friend of mine saved a man’s life last night. I wish I could write that sentence every day, but as far as I know, it’s the first time it’s been true.

The friend’s name is Kirk Evans. I don’t know the name of the man whose life he saved, but it would not be surprising if the man were a father and as we know, this coming Sunday is father’s day, so it would not surprise me if Kirk got a card or some expression of gratitude from the man’s child or children, regarding his life-saving effort.

Apparently Kirk and his wife, Nancy, were at a restaurant and the man began to choke. Kirk rushed over and performed the Heimlich maneuver, dislodging whatever it was the man had in his windpipe. Nancy later posted on Facebook how proud she was of Kirk for doing what he did. Within a few minutes the post had well over a hundred likes. This morning it had 140.

It does not surprise me Kirk saved someone’s life. Among the people I know, he would be the one I would vote: Most Likely To Save Someone’s Life. He thinks quickly and clearly.

Kirk’s the type who paints interior walls perfectly without any taping. Which to someone like me, who can barely paint in the middle of the wall, let alone trim; seems like a miracle.

In the Spring of 2013, Kirk and Nancy came down to help us get our house ready to put on the market. It never sold and we took it off, but through no fault of theirs. After they arrived on Friday evening, we went out to eat, relaxed and talked. But come Saturday morning, Kirk put in his earbuds, started the playlist on his phone, began singing and within a few hours, had our hallway with its high ceiling painted, using an extension; dropping no paint and making no mistakes. He immediately then turned his attention to trimming the trees in the front and side of our house with a device that looked like giant scissors on the end of a stick operated with a rope. He cut them and I drug them to the curb, a great example of division of labor according to skill set.

He and Nancy worked tirelessly all that Saturday and Sunday and before they left on Monday morning, I had put four $100 bills in Nancy's purse, figuring I would give him that much, nothing near what their work was worth, but still enough that he would decide it was wise to keep it. After they left, I went upstairs and there on the dresser in the bedroom where they had slept, were the four $100 bills.

Every year in late April, since we first went in 2003, a group of us have gone to Kirk and Nancy’s house to be there for the Derby Festival Marathon. Kirk drives us through the downtown Louisville traffic on Friday evening so we can get our packets. He then gets up around 5:30 on Saturday morning and drives us within a block or so of the starting line on little back alleys no one other than an authority on Louisville streets would know.

Every year for around a decade, he has led a group of other friends in efforts to do repair work on our house. I am not a handy man and he is not someone who likes sitting around without doing some sort of handy-man project, so he and I are a perfect pair. He brings his tools and either paints a room, repairs wall cracks with spackling, replaces the screen on our screened porch or fixes pipes that are leaking. One year, that actually did occur. When they came, we happened to have a pipe leaking in the wall of the room above our garage. He cut a hole in the wall, climbed in while another friend held a flashlight, found the leaking pipe, repaired it, climbed back out of the hole and within minutes, had the hole in the wall completely repaired and repainted.

Today I was thinking of his life-saving heroics as I was running through a park near our house and it made me think too of the health of one of our other dear friends, who has recently had a close call with the big C, but who is apparently going to be okay. I ran by these four young people who appeared to be of college age, just out strolling their dogs in the park.

After they left and I had run a while longer, I thought: I wish I were brave enough and smart enough to do creative things. If I were, I would have asked those kids to bring their dogs over to a place on the grass and have us all sit down and I would have told them the story of how over three decades ago a group of my friends and I were around their age and we spent a lot of time together at college, as they were. Then when we graduated, we did not let our friendships end, but we kept working at them and now there are around a dozen of us who remain like family.

Kirk and Nancy are among those friends, as is the one of our friends who recently had a health scare. If I could have set those kids down and talked to them, I would have told them how important it is to stay in touch with your friends and how much joy it will bring you as the years go by. You never know what is going to happen and it helps so much to share the pain and joy with people who know your whole life story.

If you have lifelong friends, you have surely occasionally speculated on which of you might be the first to leave the rest behind. Of course, we don’t dwell on such things, but if you are like me, it crosses your mind. When we were recently getting text updates on our friend’s health, Tanga and I would look at one other and sometimes tear up, not saying much, but I know she was probably thinking something similar to what I was: this is the way things begin to unravel.

I would have told those kids, life is finite and precious; and your friends can figuratively be lifesavers as the years go by, or if you are fortunate enough to have a friend like my friend Kirk Evans, you will have a friend who is literally a lifesaver.

Happy Father’s Day Kirk Evans, aka Life Saver!