December 1, 2013

Good Sunday morning!

“It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved in our own home. Bring love into your home for this is where our love for each other must start.” ― Mother Teresa

Whether one’s desire to be a “good person” is prompted by faith or another deep-seated motivator, the holidays can be the greatest challenge to our best intentions. I am no psychologist and can only ponder the reasons for this and consider guidance provided by others for this time of year when it should be easiest for us to “be nice” and loving to all, especially those closest to us.

The pressures of preparation for Christmas challenge efforts to keep the reason for the season the top priority. But, it’s more than completing cards, cookies, and shopping lists that can derail our best efforts to honor God this season.

Family reunions at the holidays are precious times, but the baggage that travels with us is not just the stuff in our suitcases. The memory of loved ones who have passed can make the season bittersweet at best. Long past offences, packed and preserved even after apologies, can cause ongoing pain still simmering just below the surface.

It is with family that we often have our greatest expectations and our best times and memories, but also, occasionally, our worst moments, in which we say or do something we later regret.

The wisdom of the Bible, whether one is a Christian or not, can be especially instructive in the holiday season.

Jesus’ first miracle was performed at a similar gathering of family and friends—a wedding. In John 2, we can relate to the short-handed communication that comes with the familiarity between a mother and son, when Mary simply presents Jesus with the problem. “They have no wine,” she says when the hosts’ supply runs out.

Jesus mildly pushes back from the implied request, “[Dear] Woman, what does that have to do with us? My hour [to act and perform miracles] has not yet come.”

Undeterred, Mary tells the servants, “Whatever He says to you, do it.”

And Jesus, honoring his mother’s wishes, turns six large multi-gallon pots of water into the best wine at the wedding.

I like to think that the setting of Jesus’ first miracle and the slight friction between the wills of the holy mother and son, imply reassurances to us. First, the familiarity of family is the natural place to honestly confront one another with what is in our thoughts and on our hearts, even if we are not in perfect synch. Second, God cares not only about the large crises in our lives, but also the smaller ones. We can call upon Him to guide our responses, to give us grace, even when the gravy spills over the stovetop or a dinner discussion become less cordial than desired.

Indeed, we have our longest history with the generations that gather around the holiday table, and some may question the authenticity of advances or evolutions in thought in one remembered only yesterday in diapers.

Jesus’ own brothers did not at first believe his deity. It is said that he did not perform many miracles in Nazareth, the town in which he was raised, because of the paucity of believers. While impressed with his teachings, the folks in the synagogue there asked with skepticism, “Is this not Joseph’s son?” (Luke 10:22) And Jesus made the observation, “Truly I say to you, no prophet is welcome in his hometown.” (Luke 10: 25)

Like Jesus, we may want to relax a bit with family and recognize that our most productive work may be done after the holiday, when we return to the community that doesn’t remember us in swaddling clothes.

Of course, family dinners don’t just magically appear on the table. Our attempts to present the Christmas card meal and setting are not always the best preparation for physical, emotional, and mental health. Again the story of Martha and Mary in the Bible warns against the joy of hospitality becoming tainted by resentment.

“She [Martha] had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus’ feet and heard His word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, ‘Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me.’ And Jesus answered and said to her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken from her’ ” (Luke 10:39-42)

The “good part,” in our context here, is to savor this special time of reunion, and to not let our expectations of perfect hospitality rob us of the joy of this celebration.

Mother Theresa, reminds us, “Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do…but how much love we put in that action.”

Recognizing the challenges, how can we prepare to be a good and loving person this holiday season?

The Bible instructs us to treat one another as we wish to be treated. We should have realistic expectations. We should give our loved ones the benefit of the doubt as they grow in wisdom. Commend achievements along the way. Forgive shortcomings and offenses. Discourage envy and the resurrection of past hurts, by remembering the definition of love:

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” -1 Corinthians 13: 4-7 (ESV)

Christians hunger to be good at Christmas and always, because we know a great price has been paid for us. The wonder and mystery of this season is that God loved us even while we were yet sinners. The good news that comes to us from Bethlehem is that we are loved even now. In spite of our stumbles, God’s love and our worth are forever confirmed by the birth of the baby in the manger two millennia ago.

Have a great week.

November 24, 2013

Good Sunday morning!

“Woe to you, scholars of the law! You have taken away the key of knowledge!” (Luke 11:52)

I’m a Methodist, but I’ve become a student of the new world leader of Catholic Christians, Pope Francis.

He caught my attention when he refused to move into the papal apartments in the Apostolic Palace and instead stayed in one of the suites in the Vatican guesthouse. The simpler quarters there, which are home to the priests and bishops who work at the Vatican and Vatican guests, were good enough for him.

With that decision, Pope Francis sent a gentle message to his holy colleagues, to all believers, and to me. After more than a hundred years of popes, this pope downsized. And in so-doing he called to my mind the very humble trappings of Jesus, “…The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” –Luke 9:57-59

Pope Francis has also begun to shift the focus of the church from ideological issues to the needs of the poor, the sick, and the vulnerable.

His criticism of ideological purists is a distinguishing and important lesson.

From my own perspective, countless people have been offended and driven away from Christianity by those who claim to be Christians while mouthing intolerance, exhibiting self-righteousness, and displaying a glaring absence of love in their attitude toward those they have judged to be sinners.

I’ve often wondered, in what way are they a reflection of Jesus?

Thank God, Pope Francis is addressing this age-old issue. Vatican Radio reported that in his homily on Thursday, October 17, 2013, at the Domus Sanctae Marthae, the Pope, referencing Luke 11:52, “warned Christians against taking away the key of the church from those who would wish to enter and find the door locked.”

“Today he said, Jesus speaks to us about the ‘image of the [lock]; it is the image of those Christians who have the key in their hand, but take it away, without opening the door.’ Worse still, ‘they keep the door closed’ and ‘don’t allow anyone to enter.’ In so doing, they themselves do not enter.”

The Pope explains that for these people, the faith has passed “through a distiller” and becomes “ideology.” But “in ideologies there is not Jesus.” There is not “his tenderness, his love, his meekness.”

The Pope tells us the sign of ideology: It is “rigid.” He adds, “When a Christian becomes a disciple of ideology, he has lost the faith; he is no longer a disciple of Jesus, he is a disciple of this attitude of thought.”

When the faith becomes ideological, he says, it “frightens, chases people away.”

“…It is a serious illness, this of ideological Christians,” he warns. Their attitude is to be “rigid, moralistic, and ethical, but without kindness.”

Pope Francis says this is “not new,” that the Apostle John spoke of those who “lose the faith and prefer ideologies.”

The Pope anticipates our question: How does a Christian become like this?

“Just one thing,” he answers. “This Christian does not pray. And if there is no prayer, you always close the door.”

A Christian who does not pray, is “arrogant, is proud, is sure of himself. He is not humble,” the Pope says.

Those who do not pray turn the faith into a “moralistic, casuistic ideology.” The Pope compares them to the scribes and Pharisees who challenged Jesus on ideology. He describes them as “ideologically hostile,” “insidious,” “not transparent.” He sadly and mercifully reveals them as “poor things”…”dishonored by their own pride.”

In contrast, “When a Christian prays, he is not far from the faith; he speaks with Jesus.”

Pope Francis’s lesson in prayer recalls the accounts of Jesus retreating from others to pray. The Pope says that Jesus teaches us “…when you pray, go into your room and pray to the Father in secret, heart to heart.”

Perhaps it is our human flawed desire to be in charge, to be our own master that prevents us from praying. It is indeed humbling to talk to Jesus, but the pope reminds us that this “heart-to-heart” prayer is the true key to authentic faith.

Pope Francis includes himself when he humbly says, “We ask the Lord for grace, first: never to stop praying to never lose the faith; to remain humble, and so not to become closed, which closes the way to the Lord.”

A Methodist—or any believer or would-be believer—can learn more from this Pope than can fit in a host of Sunday lessons. He is resurrecting not only the Catholic Church but also the true nature of Christianity.

Pope Francis is employing a revolutionary strategy: He is providing us with both transforming guidance and a highly visible example of a humble follower of Christ.

Have a great week.

November 17, 2013

Always give in to an urge to extend a generosity or a simple kindness. It may be God’s call upon you to change a life.

•

A Tribute to Sara Fritz

With all due respect and deep appreciation for the loved ones who have enriched my life, I’m also grateful for those who have had an impact fully out of proportion to our brief encounter in the big picture of life. Such a serendipitous moment was the morning I shared a cup of coffee with Sara Fritz. I only wish I could share another with her today.

Backing up, in March of 2008 I was awakened in the night by what I believed was a call to write a book about wrongful criminal conviction—convicting the innocent. I knew nothing about writing a book and knew no one in the publishing business, but, believing that God was on my side, I plunged right in.

Within weeks, my so-called book had become the research paper from hell. On the bright side, I was getting some answers to the many questions prompted by my husband Jim Petro’s encounter, when he was Attorney General of Ohio, with the wrongful conviction and life sentence of Clarence Elkins. But no one would want to read the stack of paper we euphemistically called “our book.”

A friend suggested that I have a cup of coffee with Sara Fritz. I met Sara when I was elected as an alumni representative to the Denison University Board of Trustees. Sara, who graduated from Denison a couple years before I graduated, had been on Denison’s board for years, an indication of her accomplishments at a relatively young age. I knew, from an earlier scan of the board members’ short biographies, that her field was journalism.

Asking a favor of someone I barely knew was not easy. Sara’s daughter was attending Denison at the time, and I knew she would surely prefer to be having coffee with her daughter. Nonetheless, Sara graciously agreed to meet me in the student union.

Our time was brief before the board meeting and therefore I was all business. I explained the book, and Sara immediately asked, “You’re not just writing it, are you?”

I didn’t fully understand the question. “Yes, I’m writing it,” I answered.

She explained that with non-fiction books, you first write a proposal to submit to agents, gatekeepers to publishers. Sara did not discourage me with the fact that agents are about as accessible to late-blooming, would-be authors as the President’s Chief of Staff. There are way too few of them to evaluate the vast number of authors vying to make a pitch. It’s very difficult to get an agent and, without one, a publisher.

A proposal for a book, she explained, is like a business plan. Since I had written business plans in my career, I could begin this with greater confidence than the book itself. Back home a few days later, I received a book in the mail from Sara. Thinking Like Your Editor was by a husband and wife team of book agents. It was a step-by-step guide to writing a book proposal. I spent the next six weeks following it to the letter.

When the proposal was complete—including the sample first 40 pages of the book—I decided to email it to the female co-author of the guidebook. I explained in the email that I had followed her book and asked if she would be our agent.

She was kind enough to respond that the proposal was well done, but she didn’t think she could find a publisher for our book. However, she added that the executive editor at Kaplan Publishing in New York might have some interest. She suggested that I email the proposal to him and mention her name.

Long story short—for it required that we reposition the book as a narrative biography in Jim’s voice—Kaplan offered to purchase and publish the book. No agent necessary, no shopping publishers. The book was published in January 2011.

Soon after our coffee, Sara resigned after 15 years on the Denison Board and she was made a Life Trustee, a rare honor.

I sent her a copy of the book when it was published. The next time our paths crossed was in 2011 when False Justice was one of two books that received the 2011 Constitutional Commentary Award from the Constitution Project. The award was to be presented at Georgetown Law, and because Sara lived and worked in Washington, D.C., I invited her to come to the event.

I was once again humbled to see Sara in the audience as Jim and I, and Brandon Garrett (a law professor at the University of Virginia School of Law, whose book on wrongful conviction was also honored that day) participated in a panel discussion. I nodded a greeting to Sara but had only a brief minute to thank her for coming before she had to leave.

Without our coffee date at Denson, I seriously doubt that False Justice would have been written or published. I most likely would not have continued to write. Jim and I would not have pursued the active advocacy that has introduced us to amazing people, taken us to many parts of the United States and Beijing, China, and given us a reason to spring from bed with new purpose every day.

If Sara had begged off on my coffee request, my life, post-2008, would have been entirely different.

Sara was unassuming. She would sometimes knit during Denison board committee meetings, and I admired that small indication that she was comfortable with who she was. While she didn’t take herself too seriously, she was fully focused on the work of the college. She did not always take the majority view. I remember telling her after one discussion that I admired her courage.

Sara taught me that you should always be alert to the greatness of the person standing next to you, to anyone and everyone you may briefly encounter in life.  It’s not everyday that you may engage in conversation with someone who will earn a lengthy obituary in The Washington Post, The Los Angeles Times, and the Pittsburgh Gazette, among others.

Unfortunately, it was after her untimely death last month, at age 68—from a lung infection following hip surgery—that I learned more about Sara from many tributes. She was “a pioneering female journalist” who covered Capital Hill for more than three decades, interviewed every U.S. living President, and served as president of the White House Correspondents’ Association.

Sara broke into the male-dominated world of newspaper journalism in part because of the Vietnam War, which took some journalists away from the paper and left a void in the copy room of the Pittsburgh Press. It was all up from there.

During a long stint with United Press International where she became weekend news editor for the Washington bureau, she covered Watergate and the resignation of President Nixon. Later, as chief White House correspondent with U.S. News and World Report, she covered the attempted assassination of President Reagan.

While on the Washington staff for the Los Angeles Times, Sara won the Everett McKinley Dirksen Award for best reporting on Congress, and later, as reported in the L.A. Times, she was on the reporting team that won the Polk Award and Goldsmith Prize for Investigative Reporting from Harvard University.

Colleagues commented on Sara’s “integrity,” “deep sense of perspective,” and “judgment,” and referenced her as one of the “unsung heroes” of American journalism.

A colleague said that she “loved her family and friends as much as her career,” and I smiled when I read in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, “…she raised eyebrows when she knit while covering the Iran-contra hearings.” The Washington Post referenced the American Journalism Review’s comparison of Sara to “Lt. Columbo, the rumpled but wily homicide detective.”

Indeed, her amazing achievements and accolades did not prompt aloofness or self-absorption in Sara Fritz. By the time I had coffee with Sara, she had retired from journalism after the haunting loss of her 12-year-old son Daniel, who committed suicide following misdiagnosed depression. Sara wrote movingly in the St. Petersburg Times, about this devastating loss and the inability of parents, despite all of our best efforts, to fully protect our children.

In spite of all of the accomplishments that distinguished her, Sara remained a willing advisor and a mentor I suspect to many. I have no doubt that she inspired countless women in particular to step up with courage to meaningful challenges.

Sara was as accessible to me, a mere acquaintance, as an old family friend. Her generous kindness changed my life.

Thank you, Sara Fritz, and Godspeed on your next assignment.