Get Me Rewrite!

I write for a couple of publications that require me to obtain approval of content from sources before publication. It’s not exactly why I went to journalism school. But I must admit such a review process does occasionally prevent some embarrassing mistakes from finding their way into print.

The overwhelming number of people I interview are fine with what I write. They may have a suggestion for a tweak or two, but they are appreciative of an opportunity to see the draft before it goes to press. While they may have worded some things differently, they realize this is my area of expertise. Once in a great while, however, along comes a critic who wants to change virtually every sentence — even their verbatim quotes I recorded on tape. They replace my proper grammar with their vernacular. They substitute incorrect usage for the Associated Press style I follow. They remove descriptive writing and insert dull prose. While I suppose a general insecurity or obsession to be in control is behind such behavior, it rarely improves the copy. One source so butchered an article recently that he took out everything remotely interesting and managed to make the article a real snoozer. I apologetically turned it in to the editor, who, unsurprisingly, said it didn’t meet the magazine’s required standards. As we deal with professionals in whatever their line of work — physicians, airline attendants, real estate agents, clergy — let’s allow them a wide berth. Although there are exceptions, give these employees some credit for knowing their business. Dealing with the public sometimes isn’t much fun.

Commemorating 75 Years

My mom and dad married 75 years ago today. The union lasted more than 65 years. My dad died almost a decade ago; my mom died last month. Ironically, my parents cautioned me against marrying young, even though at 20 I was the same age as my dad and a year older than my mom. I will celebrate 34 years with the same woman next month. So all those statistics about couples marrying young and not working out aren’t quite true. My parents actually hid their wedding from their relatives until July. Still in the grips of the Great Depression, my mom continued to live at home and worked to support her family. My dad drove back to Springfield on weekends after attending Park College in Kansas City, Mo., during the week. Rather than their regular church minister, a high school teacher who also was ordained performed the ceremony. Not until recently did my brother and I learn that my dad actually picked up the marriage license in Clinton en route one day. The discovery of the clandestine nuptials came a couple of months after the event when my mother became ill and had to visit a local hospital. My grandparents took her to the hospital and when my dad showed up he divulged the relationship had moved beyond courting.

I guess it says something about the longevity of the marriage to consider they still had a child — me — 21 years into it.

Seeding on Rocky Ground

I received a weird “seed offering” mailing the other day from the Tulsa-based St. Matthew’s Churches. I figured it stemmed from my name being sold on a ministry mailing list by one religious organization or another. But it turns out that several people who attend a Bible study with me from church received the same pitch for funds. A closer inspection shows that this is a mass mailing, addressed only to “Resident — to a Friend.” So apparently this four-page color proposal, complete with a postage-paid return envelope, is being sent to tens of thousands or maybe hundreds of thousands of homes. I don’t see how the organization will recoup its costs. The correspondence includes a funky drawing that is supposed to be Jesus, but looks more like Osama bin Laden. Addressees are instructed to kneel on this “rug of faith,” check what needs they have in a list provided (for example, “my health,” “a new car” or “a money blessing”) and return the letter. In true chain-letter tradition, recipients are warned not to keep the paper “Bible prayer rug soaked with the power of prayer,” but to pass it along to a friend within 24 hours. Of course there are testimonials from unnamed people explaining how they have been monetarily blessed for following instructions. Mrs. L.C. of Texas says she got a new car and a job. E.C.S. of North Carolina claims to have received $10,000. Sis J.B. of New York says she was healed of severe leg pains. The letter contains several written instructions of what the reader must do to make the formula work. It’s all designed to open a line of communication that will ultimately start a flow of checks to the “ministry.” The letter from an unnamed “senior bishop” promises readers this could be the best year of their life and “God is ready to help you reach your dreams and goals.” Those who respond are promised an unspecified “wonderful, free, spiritual gift” in return. No doubt an illogical plea for funds in exchange for success will follow. The gospel of Jesus Christ is not for sale. Answers to prayer come from God, not a magical mumbo jumbo uttered by a telemarketer. The local church is the place for prayer needs to be met, not via some anonymous agent in the mailbox. Christianity is a religion of self-sacrifice, compassion and sometimes suffering —not gimmick. This is a marketing scheme designed to enrich hucksters at the expense of those who can’t afford it. Surely there aren’t that many gullible people willing to send big bucks in the hope of a financial windfall. I hope.

Sorry I Missed Mom Passing

I received a phone call Friday night from a nurse at the care facility where my 94-year-old mother had lived for the past 13 months, asking for permission to administer a narcotic pain reliever. The nurse explained that my mom had uncharacteristically been complaining about stomach pains—and that my mom had told her she was dying.

Early Saturday morning I received another call from the nursing home predicting that my mom would be gone within the hour. An hour later the news came true.

My mom had been in hospice care for a year and a half. A physical examination a few months back revealed that she had an abdominal aortic aneurysm. While the condition didn’t cause discomfort in daily living, a nurse warned that it could cause sudden death. My mom was too old and feeble for surgical relief.

Although I live in the same city as my mom, I was half a country away on a reporting assignment. I couldn’t be there with my mom as she lay dying. Thankfully she went peacefully.

I’m glad I visited her Wednesday evening before I flew to West Virginia Thursday morning. At the time she said she thought she might live to 100; I told her that, having just celebrated her 94th birthday, six years was a long way off.

Thankfully, my wife and my kind Uncle Joe got to visit Mom when she was still lucid just after the administering of the pain medication. Joe, a spry 87 years old, recently had a successful operation for the same condition that proved fatal to my mom.

My dad sensed imminent death soon before he died of congestive heart failure 10 years ago. Sadly, I was traveling at the time and couldn’t be with him at the end.
I’m grateful to the nursing home staff and hospice care staff that made her final months comfortable and engaging as possible for someone who only left her bed for meals. They truly helped extend her life and make it more enjoyable.

Although Mescal Kennedy’s death was hardly unexpected, the timing caught me off guard because she seemed as normal as ever the day before. We should never take anything for granted. I’m glad I made the Wednesday evening visit.

Known by His Works

Chuck Colson remains hospitalized following surgery for a brain hemorrhage that almost took his life more than two weeks ago.

When news reports of Colson’s critical condition hit the wires invariably they led with a phrase such as “convicted Watergate figure.” Faith-based media, on the other hand, usually started the story by calling the 80-yer-old Colson an influential Christian leader.

Indeed, what Colson accomplished after his four years as special counsel to President Nixon has made him an elder statesman in evangelical Christianity circles. He founded the most influential prison ministry in the country, Prison Fellowship; he has authored numerous bestsellers about integrating Christian faith into daily living; he has contributed mightily to important doctrinal debates.

Yet much of the mainstream media is stuck in 1973 when it comes to reporting on Colson. Despite his decades of ministry efforts, they still see him as the ruthless “hatchet man” for the paranoid Nixon, a loyal follower who “would walk over his own grandmother if necessary” to serve the president.

Colson converted to Christianity in 1974 and it transformed his life as much as it did for Saul of Tarsus, the onetime persecutor of Christians who became Paul, the most important apostle of the Early Church. Colson, having subsequently served seven months in federal prison after his conversion, became an advocate of prison rehabilitation.

I remember covering Colson when he visited the Missouri State Penitentiary in 1981 in Jefferson City when I was a religion reporter at the Columbia Missourian. Five years after the founding of Prison Fellowship, editors still thought Colson to be a phony. The fact that he was conversing with inmates rather than sitting back in a cushy law office at a corporate firm didn’t seem to register with the editors.

I was involved in the photo selection process for the newspaper. Editors wanted to use a picture of Colson in an unflattering pose, his face twisted in an almost grotesque way. Somehow I prevailed in changing their minds. The primary image shows a compassionate Colson reaching through prison bars to clasp an inmate’s hand.

More than 30 years later, it’s time to view Colson in a favorable light, not primarily for his lawbreaking from a long-ago presidential administration. The proof is in the legacy he is living and leaving with his Christian life.

Bye to ‘Big Steve’

I won’t be picking up “Big Steve” tonight en route to our weekly Bible study, as has been my custom for more than a year. Steve Wade was found dead this morning in his apartment. I will miss him.

I’ve known Steve for several years, since his days of living on the streets not all that long ago. Steve shattered some myths I had about homeless people. He had a good sense of humor, including about his hefty weight. Steve was happy-go-lucky, independent and someone who lived simply and cared little about material possessions.

At home group, where he was a faithful fixture every Tuesday night, Steve offered insights on poverty that the rest of us didn’t have. Despite living many of his final years with only what he had in a backpack, Steve felt blessed by God in multiple ways. He always was willing to read Scripture, and was grateful that he recently had obtained a new multi-translation Bible.

Sadly, at age 50, Steve is no longer with us. He really had made strides in stability since moving into an apartment complex. He had plans to lose weight by bicycling, and he was saving money to buy a car. But, happily, he is in a better place no longer encumbered by the troubles of this world.

Oprah’s TM Agenda

I watched in continued amazement last week as Oprah Winfrey hosted a one-hour segment on her network from my hometown, Fairfield, Iowa, which she dubbed “America’s most unusual town.”

In gushing tones, Winfrey spoke as if she had uncovered a hidden gem, a town populated by a couple of thousand transcendental meditators bringing bliss among the rural farmland of the Hawkeye State. The episode contained factual errors, such as Maharishi Mahesh Yogi started his university in Fairfield when it actually originated in Santa Barbara, Calif. Maharishi International University purchased the bankrupt Parsons College, where my dad served as campus pastor. Also, Winfrey inexplicably stated that the size of the town increased tenfold after TMers arrived. The population, around 9,000, actually has decreased in the 37 years since the first influx.

But the worst part of the propaganda involved Winfrey repeatedly telling viewers that TM had nothing to do with religion. This seemed especially odd when near the end of the show several hundred Hindu “gurus” were shown collectively chanting. Yet, the spiritually undiscerning Winfrey claimed practicing TM actually enhances a person’s Christian faith. These claims have been disproved in courts. There is ample evidence that TM is at odds with the tenets of Christianity. See an article I wrote more than a decade ago for Christianity Today in which I interviewed various pastors in Fairfield: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2001/january8/11.74.html

In any regard, Winfrey’s show turned out to be a 60-minute commercial promoting TM, including several celebrity endorsements. One of the final scenes revealed Winfrey’s real agenda: she is seen meditating with others in the school’s golden dome for women. Winfrey bragged that she is such a TM advocate she has paid the $2,000 fee for her 270 employees to be indoctrinated.