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- Written by Rex M. Rogers
Sarah and I have remarked for years how few people seem to invite others, or at least us, into their homes. But I don’t think it’s just us because I’ve heard others make the same lament. I’m not sure if this is something characteristic of West Michigan or whether it’s a lost art in the 21st Century American culture.
In 17 years of university leadership we were invited to someone’s home only on rare occasions. There were, of course, notable exceptions. In particular I’m thinking of three families who invited us to share their home and hospitality many times. They were friendly and became friends, and we value their friendship to this day. But this was by far not the norm.
I recognize that as President I was considered the “Boss,” and social dynamics got in the way of staff members relating to me in any other way, no matter the setting. Personnel in most organizations do not typically invite their boss to their home. So I get that. But I don’t get others for whom this dynamic never existed.
As I said, I don't know if this phenomenon is unique to our region or a lost art nationally. Drawing on other experience I’d guess it’s both, meaning I believe West Michigan has an extra dose of it and that it’s a national trend too. But I also know certain areas of the country, the South for example, are characterized by more open attitudes about inviting people to one’s home.
In the Middle East, inviting people to one’s home is the height of hospitality. When first introduced, Middle Easterners would rather invite you to their home than be invited to yours. By going to their home you show them honor and respect and they, in turn, become better acquainted with you. In the States we don’t seem to do either as much as I remember from my youth.
In Proverbs 18:24 Solomon said, “A man that hath friends must show himself friendly,” (KJV). It seems to me that inviting someone to your home is an incredible way to express openness and genuine friendliness. If I invite you and you come to my home you learn more about me because you see me in my natural habitat. The same is true in reverse.
Perhaps this is why people don’t invite others to their homes as much as people used to do. They don’t want others to learn about them. We’ve isolated ourselves in our cocoons and don’t want to be bothered or known.
It’s a free country, I know, so if people choose not to invite others into their home there isn’t much I can say about it. Except that I think they lose an opportunity for friendship, fellowship, connectedness, and community. They lose a chance to know and be known, which is a part of being human.
Inviting people into your home is a blessing that flows in both directions—to your guests and back again to you.
© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010
*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at www.rexmrogers.com or follow Dr. Rogers at www.twitter.com/RexMRogers.
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- Written by Rex M. Rogers
If you think this is morbid, read no more. If you’re a dreamer or a planner, read on.
Warner Brothers Pictures’ 2007 film, “The Bucket List,” starring Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson, surprised movie moguls and a lot of other people. High hopes cast it as a feel-good, maybe low profit film. Yet it was considered DOA by some film critics—and we all know how inerrant they are. But in the end the film grossed over $174 million worldwide.
The movie featured two older men facing terminal illnesses, who, rather than lie around and wait for the end, created a wish list of things to do before they “kicked the bucket.” Than they flew around the world visiting sites and checking off each item on their “Bucket List.” Humor played a role in the film’s success, and two old hands at movie-making didn’t hurt, but it was the story and message that put the film over the top.
Audiences loved it, at least older members of audiences. Some of my 20-something and 30-something kids and their spouses or friends watched it. They pretty much thought it was “dumb.” But my wife and I thought it was interesting, thought-provoking, poignant, and not-dumb.
It’s called age or time or maturity, I think. Something like that. We liked the film because we’re old enough it made sense to us. So if you’re over 50 I’d say “Watch it; you’ll like it.”
The film introduced "Bucket List" into the cultural lexicon and people began making their list for fun, fantasy, or forming plans. It’s an interesting exercise that reveals something about the bucket-lister. That’s why it’s an enjoyable family or group exercise. You discover things about the people beside you that you didn’t know.
My Bucket List is a work-in-progress. In no particular order, here’s the current list:
--Hike Yellowstone National Park for about two weeks with Sarah.
--Play a round of golf at St. Andrews in Scotland with Sarah and son Eric.
--Ride horses in the Colorado Rockies in the fall when the aspen turn yellow.
--Visit the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY with Sarah and son Andrew and Kristen, who are fan-atics.
--Attend the Christmas Mass led by the Pope in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome on Christmas Eve. I’m not Catholic, but I’ve watched this spectacle for years while Sarah placed the kids’ presents around the tree downstairs. It’s quite an interesting service re the history of the Church and Christian teaching. I’d take Sarah and our son Adam and Morgan; Adam’s begun his own tradition of late night Christmas Eve viewing.
--Attend the Olympics, summer or winter, anywhere.
--Go on safari in Kenya or other African nation.
--Take Sarah and our daughter Elizabeth and Joe to NYC where Elizabeth spent a portion of her youth.
--Bicycle Ireland for a week or two with a group of cyclers. We’ve already done this, but I’d do it again in a second.
--Travel the Oregon Trail from Independence, Missouri to the Willamette Valley in Oregon.
--Write the Great American Novel or my Magnum Opus, whichever.
This list evolves as I evolve. A few years ago one item would have been attending a national political party convention. Now I’d find that interesting but wouldn’t strain myself to get there. Is this new perspective progress or regress? Depends on whether you believe in evolution, I guess.
So what’s on your Bucket List?
© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010
*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at www.rexmrogers.com or follow Dr. Rogers at www.twitter.com/RexMRogers.
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- Written by Rex M. Rogers
Part of me has never liked what happens during the 52nd week of the year. It’s a great time, the holiday season, family and friends, time off, bowl games, special worship services, gift giving. What’s not to like? Nothing. I like and appreciate all of this.
What I don’t like is the huge transition in “tone,” especially on television, that takes place after Christmas leading to New Year’s Eve. Christmas carols disappear from radio stations, stores, and inexplicably, church services. People shift gears from the season of peace to the season of parties. Of a sudden, life is no longer about the spirit of giving, about peace on earth goodwill toward men. It’s about the spirit of hammering oneself into oblivion. It’s about partying all night, going gonzo, and living life to excess.
I don’t think I exaggerate. Simply watch the New Year’s Eve television programs. What are they about?
I get weary of the barrage of media content suggesting drinking is the greatest and grandest thing I can do with my time ringing in the New Year. I’m not against all drinking. I don’t attack the idea or people who take a drink. I do take umbrage with the idea that drinking to excess, drunkenness, or hard partying is somehow a good, wise, or even enjoyable activity.
Excessive drinking isn’t the only thing to which we’re treated in this week’s shift to a secular worldview. We also get even more let it loose sexuality than usual. That’s so obvious I’ll leave it at that.
Because others go secular, of course, doesn’t mean we have to do so. And we don’t. Our time, like many others, is spent with family and friends, enjoying them and all God has bestowed. It’s a good week…if you turn off the TV.
© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010
*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at www.rexmrogers.com or follow Dr. Rogers at www.twitter.com/RexMRogers.
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For about 25 years now, maybe longer, I’ve used this week between Christmas and New Year’s as a time to write long hand, yellow-pad notes to people who’ve made a particular impact upon my life in the past year. Not a lot of them, actually maybe just four or five, or on a big year as many as seven. These notes or short letters are my way of expressing thanks and touching people who’ve touched me.
I know other people do this because I’ve heard them mention it or seen their Christmas letters. But most of the ones I’ve seen are more generic, sent to one and all. Nothing wrong with this.
I’m talking about personalized notes to selected individuals who’ve done something, modeled something, been a listening ear, or simply “been there” in some way that made a difference in my life, family, and/or career.
Writing gratitude notes to people during New Year’s Week has been a good habit for a number of reasons.
First, it makes me take stock. The practice forces me to remember people and actions in detail and recall why they might have been important. It reminds me that I didn’t do as well or accomplish as much or live as well on my own as a quick glance might lead me to think.
Second, this practice requires me to put into words how the people or their actions affected me and to put into words my expression of gratitude. It makes me articulate what up till now may have gone unsaid.
Third, it allows me to see how God has worked in my life and family in the past year, using people to bless or direct us. It helps me see how God has corralled me or used others to remind me what’s really important.
Fourth, it’s a good reminder of which individuals built into my life and who, if I am wise, I’ll maintain contact with, listen to, and seek to return the blessing.
I share this habit as a recommendation. It’s a practice that’s probably blessed me more than it’s blessed anyone who received the snail-mail note.
I need to get out of this blog now. I’ve got gratitude notes to write.
© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010
*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at www.rexmrogers.com or follow Dr. Rogers at www.twitter.com/RexMRogers.
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Christmases come and go and always Grandpa anchored events from a big chair in the corner. Now, Grandpa’s gone and Dad’s visiting my sister, so I’m the anchor. How did this happen?
There was a time when NFL quarterbacks were my age. It was good to play the game vicariously through their similar faddish words, dress, and insights. Now I’m old enough to be the quarterback’s father. His hair is funny looking—won’t see me wearing hair swooped to the center in a pointy Mohawk—he uses words coined yesterday, and his insights at times seem laughably immature. Don’t even ask me about college quarterbacks. How did this happen?
There was a time when someone else picked up the restaurant tab. We were, after all, young marrieds with more kids than dough. Now I pick up a lot of tabs.
There was a time when my kids were little eepers fawned over by grandparents. Now my kids are parents with little eepers of their own and we’re the fawning grandparents, “Grandpa Rex” in the parlance of our grandsons. Because “Grandpa Rogers” is my Dad when he’s able to come and of course our grandsons have grandfathers on the other side of their family too.
There was a time when we piled the kids in the car and went to the grandparents’ house. Now the family comes to our house. Not a bad deal, this. Grandma works more in the kitchen but enjoys it and Grandpa can steal away to write a blog. Meanwhile the house is full of noisy boys. Pretty good.
I remember my grandfathers, patriarchs in their own way, both men short of stature with take-over-the-room personalities. Now I am, I guess, an “emerging Patriarch.” What this means besides picking up the tab I’ve not yet figured out, but I’ve picked up a few things so far:
--Patriarchs pray over meals.
--Patriarchs good-naturedly endure jokes about gray hair, putting on weight, snoring, and falling asleep at the cinema.
--Patriarchs offer opinions, solicited and unsolicited, on pretty much everything.
--Patriarchs take out the trash, bring in the wood, and stay out of the kitchen.
--Patriarchs read the Christmas story on Christmas Eve.
--Patriarchs love the resident Matriarch, modeling this for all to see.
--Patriarchs grow into this idea of being the oldest one in the room and try to wear it well.
Being the oldest one in the room has its own joys and privileges. Your horizon’s bigger, so you see farther. You understand things differently and more deeply than you did when you were younger. You get to be amused and bemused by your progeny. You appreciate God more because you’ve seen more of what he’s done. Pretty good.
I’ll watch Dad when he’s in town. And I’ll keep working on this patriarch business. Judging by how my grandfathers handled it and how Dad is conducting himself now, I know patriarchs are supposed to finish well. Pretty good.
© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010
*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at www.rexmrogers.com or follow Dr. Rogers at www.twitter.com/RexMRogers.
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My wife and I visited the Holy Land in 1996. We traveled with a busload of about 44 other people as part of university tour. Our tour guide was a woman who turned out to be a font of 4,000 years of history everywhere we paused to ponder.
Our first tourist stop, Mt. Carmel, took place in a driving rainstorm. What made that location memorable for me was that I was coming down with a bad cold and felt more miserable by the moment. More memorable still, though, was the realization that I was looking west to the Mediterranean Sea, watching thunderclouds just like Elijah did centuries before when he challenged the prophets of Baal.
During the next two weeks we traveled to most of the best known historical sites. They were all interesting. But what began to bother me was that everywhere something significant was thought to have occurred an ancient church or altar or shrine had been built to commemorate it. Soon, we weren’t spending as much time looking at historical sites as we were being shown an old grime-encrusted edifice where people came to light candles, say prayers, and worship the place. Undoubtedly some pilgrims worshiped God in those places, but I saw many who broke down in tears or embraced a rock or in some other way venerated the location.
Bethlehem was special, of course, because it was Bethlehem. I was glad to be there and eagerly visited the Grotto, now within the Church of the Nativity, where tradition says Jesus was born. Frankly, I was disappointed, not because I expected something recognizable from the birth of Christ to remain from 2,000 years ago, but because the place was again a focus of worship.
People acted smitten, as if they were in the presence of God himself. In no sense do I disrespect these sincere religious individuals. I’m only confessing my own feelings fourteen years later.
Bethlehem as a holy place was, to me, not all that interesting. Bethlehem, the home of people who live there and the issues it confronts today, is intensely interesting. Bethlehem is a place I would like to revisit. It is a place of history, yes, but even more a place to engage the complex issues facing the Middle East today.
Christmas time reminds us of Bethlehem and the honored position it holds in the history of the Christian faith. But Bethlehem is not in itself sacred. It’s the child in the manger who grew to become the Savior on the cross, buried, and risen who is holy. I pray for the peace of Bethlehem and peace in hearts, all possible because of the Prince of Peace.
© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2010
*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at www.rexmrogers.com or follow Dr. Rogers at www.twitter.com/RexMRogers.