Chronologically Gifted — Part 2

Last week I discussed the fact that I don’t even have to ask anymore to get the “senior discount” at Dunkin Donuts. This means I am an official geezer. However, I prefer a different term: “chronologically gifted.”

Here is the continuation of topics that took me by surprise as I went through the aging process (all of which begin with the letter “F”):

FOOD

When it comes to food, the chronologically gifted rule is very simple: If it tastes good, it’s gonna hurt.

If you don’t believe me, visit any pharmacy and walk up and down the “H & H” aisle (Heartburn and Hemorrhoids). You need a calculator to add up all the different products designed to relieve the discomfort associated with eating and digesting food.

When I was young I could eat Mexican food for breakfast without a second thought. (Including tequila, but that’s another story.) Now I get severe cramps by merely watching a Taco Bell commercial. My doctor wants me do go on a special “heart-healthy senior diet.” What he wants me to eat basically looks like a bowl of wallpaper paste and a plate of lawn clippings. He told me, “If you stick to this diet, you’ll live for many more years.” I said, “Why would I want to?”

FUN

It is still possible to be in the chronologically gifted years and have fun. Our definition of fun, however, is less likely to include hang gliding, dirt bike racing, trampoline somersaults, and staggering out of seedy bars on Saturday night.

Chronologically gifted fun is more likely to involve sitting in comfortable chairs, wearing comfortable shoes, and conversing with comfortable friends, oftentimes telling tall tales about youthful events which involved hang gliders, dirt bikes, trampolines, seedy bars, and most reckless of all, Mexican food.

Here’s another topic that begins with the letter F:

PHARMACEUTICALS (Yeah, I know. Spelling’s not my strong suit.)

As most of us know, there is a medical specialty for every single part of the human body. The average chronologically gifted person visits at least 8 different medical specialists on a regular basis, and every one of those doctors writes at least two prescriptions. So, when we sit down at the kitchen table each morning to take our pills, it looks like we’re working in the M&M factory. There are pills everywhere.

As you may have heard, the pharmaceutical business is a multi-billion dollar industry. I suspect if chronologically gifted people stopped taking their medicine for just one week, there would be numerous drug company CEOs who would be unable to make the next payment on their yacht. So be sure to take your pills, even if they don’t do any good, because those CEOs would be embarrassed if they had to sell the 130-foot yacht and settle for just a 90-foot yacht.

FAITH

The chronologically gifted years are often when people lose faith in previously rock-solid institutions — for example, the government and big business. We begin to ponder ancient truths and the meaning of life. We’ve been known to enter churches and synagogues with a sincerity and humility not present since, oh, about the fourth grade.

Not to go all Billy Graham on you here, but I truly believe faith is very important, and can be very, very comforting — although if you eat Mexican food, you should supplement your prayers with some products from the pharmacy’s H & H aisle. Just sayin’.

Having a strong spiritual life is essential for dealing with the trials and tribulations encountered as we journey down the home stretch of life. 

In conclusion, these past six decades have been very interesting. I can’t wait to see what happens to me during the next six decades.

Clearing Up Campaign Confusion

Welcome to another edition of the world famous Question & Answer column, “Ask Professor Politics.” Our topic this week is political advertising.

Before we get to the questions, let’s first be clear: all red-blooded Americans truly wish to fulfill their solemn civic duty and participate in the democratic process on Election Day. (“All” being defined as 40 percent of registered voters — less if it’s raining.) But there is a slight problem. Most people get their information these days via campaign commercials. This can cause confusion, as political ads often contain a tad bit of exaggeration and hyperbole. (Which, of course, is a polite way of saying a dump truck load of bovine excrement.) This column will cut through the chaos and confusion, so that on Election Day all red-blooded Americans can perform their solemn civic duty: get up early, look out the window, and confidently declare, “Gee, it looks like rain. I can’t be bothered.” 

Dear Professor Politics: Why are campaign advertisements so negative?

Answer: Although countless surveys indicate that 99.99 percent of the general public hates negative campaign ads, history tells us the last politician to win an election without broadcasting negative commercials about his or her opponent was George Washington in 1789, and this was primarily due to the fact he had no opponent that year.

Dear Professor Politics: Be that as it may, isn’t it wrong for a politician to label his opponent as a “thumb-sucking, bed-wetting communist”?

Answer: This requires a two-part answer. Number one: we don’t use the phrase, “Be that as it may,” around here. It’s a sure sign that someone is a thumb-sucking, bed-wetting communist. Number two: the label is technically OK as long as the politician does not say WHEN his opponent did those things. Countless surveys indicate that 99.99 percent of all political candidates at one time sucked their thumbs and wet their beds — usually around age two.

Dear Professor Politics: But what about the communist label? Is that OK?

Answer: It is acceptable as long as the opponent first called him a “right-wing, jack-booted Nazi fascist.”

Dear Professor Politics: When a campaign commercial claims the candidate “said ‘No!’ to special interest groups,” what does that actually mean?

Answer: It means the candidate was insulted by the special interest groups’ meager campaign contributions, and the candidate absolutely refuses to jump in bed with those groups unless they send over a dump truck filled with hundred-dollar bills.

Dear Professor Politics: What is the difference between organized crime and the government?

Answer: Only one is organized. (And thank you for teeing that one up for me.)

Dear Professor Politics: What does it mean when a politician says his opponent is “beholden to Big Business”?

Answer: It means the politician is jealous of his opponent’s success in raking in corporate donations — mostly in the form of dump trucks filled with hundred-dollar bills.

Dear Professor Politics: Does that mean the politician would not accept corporate donations if they were offered to him?

Answer: My motto is, “There are no dumb questions,” but in this case I must make an exception.

Dear Professor Politics: I’m not really thrilled by the choice for President this year. Who should I vote for on Election Day? 

Answer: Surveys indicate that 99.99 percent of Americans feel the same way, and are not sure who to vote for, either the Unlikeable Liar, who by comparison makes Richard Nixon seem warm, cuddly, and spontaneous; or the Nasty Narcissist, who for some unknown reason rubs his face with Cheetos every morning. Therefore, you should vote for the candidate who is NOT motivated by personal ambition. This year that person is: George Washington.

The Joys of Being ‘Chronologically Gifted’ (part 1)

Recently I discovered that I am no longer a geezer-in-training, but now I am classified as a full-fledged geezer. This designation became official when I received the “senior discount” at Dunkin Donuts without asking for it — for the tenth time in a row.

However, I’m not a big fan of some of the terms used for people like me, such as elderly, mature, or senior. I prefer a different term: “chronologically gifted.” Those of us who are chronologically gifted have an abundance of years; we have an abundance of experiences and memories. I actually feel sorry for people who are “chronologically impaired.” These folks don’t have many years to their credit, nor much experience. The only things these people have are strength, stamina, and good looks. Bah! Who wants that stuff?

Now that many years have been credited to my account, I realize a lot of what occurred during the aging process took me by complete surprise. No one warned me about these things. I made a list, and since I like alliteration, each item begins with the letter “F”.

FEET

When I was a young, I could run around the yard barefoot all day long, and play basketball at the schoolyard while wearing only flip flops. My feet never bothered me.

Now, I’ve learned that chronologically gifted feet are fragile. Arches fall, heels hurt, bunions bloom, fungus flourishes, and toenails in-grow. I used to wonder why older guys went to the beach wearing socks and sneakers. Now I know: anything less is just too painful.

FOLLICLES

When I hit my 50s, half my hair turned gray, and the other half turned loose. I wasn’t surprised by that, but no one warned me that when people reach a certain age, a whole new crop of hair sprouts from the ears, nostrils, and the sides of the neck. And this goes for the men, too.

There’s a little gizmo you can buy in drug stores called the “electric nose and ear hair trimmer.” When I was young I thought it was a gag gift, something you might buy for someone just to goof around. Well, now I realize without that little device, I would look like a cactus.

FASHION

Chronologically gifted people know that if the clothes we own today are out of style, all we have to do is wait a little while and they’ll be back in style in no time.

The perfect example is the “hipster hat,” a hat with a short brim, turned down in the front and up in the back. I saw an ad in a magazine with a photo of a typical young hipster. He had the big bushy beard, horned rim glasses, skinny jeans, Starbucks coffee, and he was wearing a hipster hat.

Well, I hate to break it to him, but that cool, modern hipster hat is the exact same hat Frank Sinatra wore during the entire 1950s. So the more things change the more they stay the same.

 

FILTER

There’s an amazing part of the brain called the filter. Whenever we have a thought, the filter quickly determines whether we should speak that thought out loud. If it’s inappropriate, the filter stops the thought from reaching the mouth. When people get into their chronologically gifted years, the filter often malfunctions. Thoughts that never should see the light of day come spewing right out.

A few years ago I was in a store, and an old guy in a wheelchair looked over at another shopper and blurted out, “Look at the size of her butt!” (Except he didn’t use the word “butt,” if you get my drift.) My wife is pretty sure my filter is already faltering. 

Next week: Geezerhood Part 2.

Little Man Offers Big Lesson

This week’s gospel reading is the story of Zacchaeus, a wealthy tax collector from Jericho. One day Jesus passed through Jericho, and Zacchaeus wanted to get a look at Him. But there was one tiny problem: Zacchaeus’ tiny stature.

Zacchaeus was a very short man, and being a hated and ostracized tax collector, no one in the crowd was about to step aside and let him move up to the front for a better view. So Zacchaeus, as Scripture explains, “ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree in order to see Jesus, who was about to pass that way.”

Because I watched the sitcom “Taxi” a few thousand times, whenever I hear this story, I immediately envision Danny DeVito scrambling up a tree, muttering profanity under his breath. The real Zacchaeus was equally as comical. Being a tax collector for the Romans, he had to be ruthless. Being a short tax collector, he had to be extra ruthless. (“Pay up, or I’ll punch you in the knee cap!”) The sight of this ruthless little man climbing a tree must have stunned the crowd.

The crowd was stunned even more when Jesus stopped, looked up into the tree, and said, “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.”

The Bible tells us exactly how the crowd reacted: “They began to grumble, saying, ‘He has gone to stay at the house of a sinner.’”

The crowd’s reaction highlights a persistent misunderstanding about Jesus’ mission. Contrary to what the crowd thought (and what many folks think today), Jesus did not come into this world to praise righteous people and condemn the evil. He came into this world to save sinners.

There is no clearer doctrine in all of Scripture than the fact that ALL people are sinners. And if you’re still not sure whether mankind is by nature sinful, just watch the evening news for about 5 minutes.

The fact is, we are all sinners. Which means we all need a Savior. That’s why Jesus came into this world.

Now here’s the tricky part: although we can never earn our way into Heaven by our own good deeds, we are nevertheless commanded by Jesus to avoid sin and live holy and righteous lives. It’s simply the proper thing to do.

On this side of eternity, however, it is an unattainable goal. Even the most revered saints were sinners. Knowing that we cannot achieve perfection, God is much more pleased by our sincerity and our effort than by the results alone.

However, we are inclined to compare ourselves to other people rather than compare ourselves to God. When we compare ourselves to others, we become prideful and judgmental. We say things like, “I’m basically good,” or “Well, I never murdered anybody or robbed a bank,” or, as the crowd said, “He has gone to stay at the house of a sinner!”

When we compare ourselves to God, who is all-holy and perfect, we become humble. We realize we fall short of the mark and more readily ask for forgiveness.

Christians today often act like the crowd in this gospel reading. We gather in our parishes and congregations. We pat each other on the back for being so good. We shake our heads over the decadent behavior in society. We grumble when a fellow parishioner associates with an ungodly sinner—just as the crowd grumbled at Jesus for associating with Zacchaeus.

Jesus summarized his mission on earth in the last verse of the reading: “The Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.” 

Our mission is to spread this wonderful Good News to all the world. We will be much more successful—not to mention much more pleasing to the Lord—when we do it with an attitude of humility and thankfulness, instead of an attitude of arrogance and condescension. And there’s no tree-climbing required.

Flying Is Great, After the Wait

Just before heading to the airport on a business trip, a coworker asked, “Don’t you hate flying?”

I replied, “Actually, the flying part is fine. But I do hate the other aspects of air travel, all of which take place on the ground.”

Sure, I’ve had my share of unpleasant experiences in the air, such as turbulence, cramped seats, tiny airplane restrooms, screaming babies, and most frustrating of all, discovering that my individually wrapped packet of four peanuts contained only three peanuts. But all in all, I’m still amazed and delighted that a hunk of aluminum can go airborne in Connecticut and then barely two hours later touch down safely in Chicago. The “traveling in the air” part of air travel is great.

But everything that happens before and after being in the air is a royal pain. For example:

• Searching for and booking a flight — This is a very confusing, time-consuming, and expensive online exercise. Just when I think I’ve found a decent option, which takes me from Hartford to Chicago without a layover in Brazil, either there suddenly are no more seats available, or the price jumped from $325 to $925 because I waited one day too long. 

• Packing a suitcase — also known as the futile exercise of cramming 10 pounds of you-know-what into a 5-pound carry-on bag. This inevitably leads to hastily transferring everything into a larger suitcase, because it dawned on me that my business meetings in Chicago will be more successful if I’m wearing pants. So now I’ve got to check the bag, usually for a steep fee, and wonder if my luggage will actually reach Chicago the same day I do. 

• Waiting in line (part 1) to check the suitcase. 

• Waiting in line (part 2) to go through the security check point. 
  

• Waiting in line (part 3) to get a coffee and stale muffin for seven dollars. 

• Waiting in line (part 4) to get my boarding pass scanned and then proceed down the jetway. 

• Waiting in line (part 5) halfway down the jetway as dozens of people and their carry-on bags are bottlenecked at the cabin door. 
  

• Waiting in line (part 6) in the middle of the airplane aisle as people in front of me try to fit 10 pounds of carry-on baggage into a 5-pound overhead bin. (It’s almost as if the luggage manufacturers had a meeting: “OK, what’s the size of the standard airline overhead bin? 22 inches deep by 14 inches high? Fine, we’ll make all our carry-on bags exactly 24 by 16. Good job, fellas, let’s break for lunch.”) 
  

• Waiting in line (part 7) as the plane inches its way toward the end of the runway, while the captain says on the PA system, “We’re number 19 in line, folks, so we’ll be taking off, um, probably today.” (To be fair, this rarely happens at Bradley, where a flight takes off about once every 15 minutes, as opposed to O’Hare, where the rate is more like 15 flights per every one minute.) 
  

Finally, the plane is in the air and everything is fine — not counting the occasional turbulence, cramped seating, screaming babies, three peanuts, and exceedingly tiny restrooms. (Being inside the restroom when turbulence hits should be a ride at Six Flags amusement park. It’s a wild adventure, although the blue water splashing on your leg and the concussion aren’t much fun.)

Cruising at 35,000 feet, and arriving safely in Chicago in two hours is a marvel of science and technology. But then the plane touches down, and a whole new series of annoying ordeals ensue. I’d bore you with that list, too, but I’ve got to pack and get to the airport.

Jesus Warns Against Pride

Ever since the September 11th terrorist attacks fifteen years ago, radio stations often play Lee Greenwood’s poignant song, “Proud to be an American.” Now, it’s a nice song, but I’m not much of a country music fan. (Just too many heart-breaking stories about unfaithful relationships and deceased dogs—or is it deceased relationships and unfaithful dogs?)

Long before 2001, the word “pride” was being bandied about by a multitude of groups: gay pride, black pride, plumber’s union pride, Notre Dame pride, nursery school pride, under-achiever pride, etc. When I was in high school, a popular bumper sticker supported our school football team: “Morgan Huskies Have Pride.”

In contemporary culture, the word “pride” has lost all its negative aspects. It is entirely a good thing. In generations past, however, people were wary of pride. They were much more Bible literate and they knew the Bible clearly taught that pride is a grievous sin—in fact, the worst of all sins.

The best analysis of pride I’ve ever read is in C.S. Lewis’ masterpiece Mere Christianity. In the chapter titled “The Great Sin,” Lewis explains, “It was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind….Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man.”

Lewis, no doubt, learned this important lesson from this week’s gospel reading, the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector. Both men went into the temple, Jesus explained, to offer up prayers. The Pharisee prayed, “O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity—greedy, dishonest, adulterous—or even like this tax collector.”

The tax collector, on the other hand, stood off at a distance and prayed, “O God, be merciful to me a sinner.”

Jesus concluded, “I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former; for whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

It is critical that we are humble rather than prideful in the presence of God. The reason is simple, as Lewis points out: “In God you come up against something which is in every respect immeasurably superior to yourself. Unless you know God as that—and, therefore, know yourself as nothing in comparison—you do not know God at all.”

When I hear people proclaim, as Greenwood’s song says, that they’re proud to be an American, it sort of sounds like they’re saying, “We’re the best! We’re better than every other country!”

As Lewis warned, when we compare ourselves to others and think we are wonderful just because of who or what we are, we are filled with the type of pride that “comes direct from Hell.”

How many of us achieved our American citizenship? How many of us earned our way into this country? I ask myself a simple question: What caused me to be born in New Haven, Connecticut, rather than Kabul or Somalia or Bogotá? The obvious answer: Certainly nothing I did.

American citizenship should be humbling rather than prideful. We’ve been given an incredible gift. For those of us who are convinced that God has blessed this nation (although I’m worried that He’s getting rather fed up with us right about now), the one emotion we should avoid is pride. It’s the exact same attitude the pompous Pharisee displayed in this week’s gospel reading.

As I said, I’m not a big country music fan. But I think I would like Lee Greenwood’s song a little better if he altered the words of the chorus to be: “I’m BLESSED to be an American.” (Well, at least he didn’t sing about his favorite hunting dog getting run over by a pickup truck—driven by his third ex-wife. I guess that counts for something.)

You might want to re-think your position

Here is precise, intricate data:

It has a purpose, there is a plan. Computer code exists because of a great deal of hard work and intelligence.

Here is another type of precise, intricate data:

There is no plan, there is no purpose. DNA exists because of purely random and accidental natural processes. No intelligence was involved.


Wait. What?!

Um, you might want to re-think your position, my atheist friends. Just sayin'.

Hotel Room Adventures

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve enjoyed staying in hotels. In a hotel room, everything you need to relax and have fun is right there in one place: a big TV, a comfortable bed, a bathroom, clean towels, an ice machine, room service, a newspaper outside your door each morning, and best of all, someone else to clean up after you. OK, I admit, the exact same features are available in my own home, but the big difference is the hotel cleaning staff does not make me feel guilty for never lifting a finger to help.

And, of course, in my home there is never a strip of paper across the toilet seat with the message, “Sanitized for your protection.” This feature alone is worth the exorbitant room rate.

As a child, staying in a hotel was a rare and exciting adventure. It’s not like we did it very often. In fact, now that I think about it, my family stayed in a hotel exactly once: a four-day trip to Cape Cod when it rained every day. As we drove home, I remember my father muttering, “Tell me again why we thought cramming seven people into two small hotel rooms was a good idea?”

I don’t know why my dad was grumbling. My brother and I had plenty of fun on that vacation, especially our exciting bed-to-bed long jump competition. (I won; he broke his wrist. It was terrific.)

A good friend of mine travels out of town on business at least three weeks per month. This guy spends more time in hotel rooms than he does in his own house. To give you an idea, a couple years ago he came home from a business trip and said to his wife, “Hi honey. Hey, where’d that baby come from? It’s ours? Really? Did I know about it?”

I’m sure my friend hates hotel rooms. On the other hand, I travel out of town infrequently, so staying in a hotel is still kind of exciting. I went on a three-day business trip to out of state recently, and when I checked into my hotel room, I immediately threw open the bathroom door and gazed downward. “Yes!” I shouted, “Sanitized for my protection! This is great!”

I turned on the cable TV, took off my shoes, and did a few bed-to-bed long jumps. I’ve lost a little elevation since age 12, but now that I’m in my late 50s, I can really make those bed springs groan with my cannonball landing.

It turned out to be a very frustrating trip. I was so busy with meetings and other business related activities, I only spent about six hours each day in the hotel room — not even enough time to get a decent night’s sleep, let alone have fun hanging out in the room.

When I arrived home I was genuinely depressed. Three days with a nice hotel room all to myself, and I didn’t get to enjoy it one bit.

My wife noticed I was mopey, and when I explained why, she said, “How about if I make you a soggy sandwich? And I’ll knock on the door just as you’re getting out of the shower and yell, ‘Room service!’”

“Really? You’d do that for me?” I replied. “And will you stand around looking impatient until I hand you a five-dollar tip?”

“Sure,” she said. “And if you’d like, I’ll put a strip of paper across the toilet seat.”

“You mean, you mean,” I said hopefully, “sanitized for my protection?” 

“That’s right, dear,” she said with a smile. My blue funk suddenly lifted and I was happy once again. Is she a great wife, or what?

Forgive 70 Times 7? Get Out the Calculator

One day St. Peter said to the other disciples, “You know how Jesus is always talking about forgiveness? Well, I’m gonna ask him a question that will earn me some major Brownie Points!”

So Peter approached Jesus and said, “Master, if my brother sins against me, how often should I forgive him, up to seven times?” Peter glanced back at the other disciples and winked. Forgive someone seven times?! Surely even Jesus will say, “No no, that’s way too many. Two or three times, max.” Peter hoped Jesus also would add, “But that’s very generous of you, Peter, to offer to forgive someone seven times! Good for you.”

However, Jesus stared at Peter for a few moments, then said, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy times seven!”

Stunned, Peter walked back to the disciples. John said, “Well, what did he say? Did you get some Brownie Points?”

Peter shook his head and replied, “Not only did Jesus say we have to forgive, but now we have to do math problems!”

People often say the most powerful three words in the universe are, “I love you.” And that’s probably correct. But three other words are a close second: “I forgive you.”

The words “I love you” are wonderful, and they take a good situation and make it even better. But you can argue that the words “I forgive you” are even more powerful because they take a bad situation and turn it around to make it good.

Jesus was well aware the disciples were not good at math. (Except Matthew, who was a tax collector and had passed the CPA exam, although he never let the other disciples borrow his calculator.) 

When Jesus said to forgive others seventy times seven, He wasn’t offering a specific number, as if we have to forgive someone exactly 490 times, but on the 491st time, oh boy, that’s it, no mercy!

No, by giving the disciples a math problem, Jesus meant we have to forgive endlessly. No matter how many times someone sins against us, we must be ready and willing to offer forgiveness. 

Have you ever heard of “Irish Alzheimer’s”? That’s where you forget everything except the grudges. (And I hear it’s common with other ethnic groups, too.) In many families, there are people who haven’t spoken to each other in decades, and no one even remembers what caused the feud in the first place. But neither party has any interest in being the first one to say “I’m sorry” and offer forgiveness.

Speaking of the words “I’m sorry,” there is a stunning aspect of Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness. He says we must forgive others always, but He doesn’t qualify His teaching with: “…as soon as they apologize and ask for forgiveness.” Whoa, you mean we’re supposed to forgive even if the other person doesn’t ask for forgiveness? Yes.  

Now, obviously, if the other person sincerely says, “I’m sorry,” and asks for forgiveness, and then we do indeed forgive him, that is pure joy. That is a complete and glorious reconciliation.

However, even if the other person does not ask for forgiveness, Jesus says we must forgive anyway. Since that won’t end the feud, why should we bother? Because when we forgive others who sin against us, it keeps us from becoming bitter. It keeps up from sinning.

The most perfect example of this is Jesus’ words from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” If Jesus could forgive the people who murdered Him, don’t you think we can forgive others who did far less to us?

Jesus commands us to forgive others. We don’t need a calculator. We just have to do it—every single time.

To-do List Obsession

Hi, my name is Bill, and I’m a to-do list-aholic. I am finally admitting that my life is out of control and unmanageable. The cause of all this chaos is an item which is supposed to provide more control and manageability to one’s life: the to-do list.

At first, to-do lists were a good thing. Years ago I got into the habit of making a to-do list at work to help me organize tasks and avoid forgetting something crucial. Before using to-do lists, I’d often drive home in the evening and suddenly slap my forehead and yell, “Oh crud!! I forgot to return an important phone call!” I discovered that giving yourself a concussion while cruising at 60 mph isn’t recommended by most driving instructors.

Slowly and subtly the to-do lists stopped being tools to assist me in doing my job. Instead they became the job itself. I should have realized something was wrong when I started making multiple to-do lists. Each day I made a list of things to do by noon; things to do by the end of the day; things to do by the end of the week; phone calls to return; emails to write; thank you notes to send (always a blank list — after all, I’m a male); reports to run; and inter-office memos to write.

I had to remove the phone and computer from my office to clear enough desktop area to lay out all my to-do lists. Since many of the activities on the lists required a phone or computer, it should have been clear that trouble was brewing. But by that point I didn’t care. Doing the things on the to-do lists no longer mattered; making the to-do lists was my only concern.

The first two hours of each morning were spent making my master to-do list: a to-do list of all the to-do lists. Once I had my list of lists, I would spend the rest of the day carefully crafting each individual list. By 5 p.m. I was finished: 20 to-do lists neatly arranged on my desk. It was exhausting work, but at least I could drive home unconcussed, basking in the pride of a job well done. The next morning I would come in and start the process all over again.

After a while, however, my boss noticed that my productivity had slipped somewhat (from about 60-percent efficiency down to zero-percent). He approached me and suggested that it might be useful if I actually DID a few of the things on the lists. Oh great, just what I needed, more pressure.

My to-do lists now included items which were relatively easy to accomplish, so I could check them off with a red pen and appear productive. Some of these less-than-difficult tasks were: “Wake up,” “Eat breakfast,” “Think about to-do lists,” “Remember to breathe,” etc. By 5 p.m. I not only had a desk full of to-do lists, but dozens and dozens of big red check marks.

But I was only fooling myself. (For example, as everyone knows, you don’t have to REMEMBER to breathe; it happens automatically via a complex biological process known as, um, magic.) My boss noticed that my productivity was still hovering in the zero range, despite all the red check marks, and gave me a choice: either no more to-do lists or no more paychecks.

I truly wish to be cured of this obsession. But it won’t be easy. This is what I must do: 1. Admit I’m powerless over to-do lists. 2. Believe that a Power greater than myself can restore me to sanity. 3. Make a decision to turn my life over to —  

Oh no! I’m doing it again!!

The Attitude of Gratitude Brings Happiness

In this week’s gospel reading, Jesus met ten lepers who pleaded with Him for help. Jesus did not immediately heal them, but instructed them to go and show themselves to the priests. According to Jewish law only the priests could declare a person “clean” and allow him to re-enter society.

These lepers, still ravaged by the disease, left to find the priests. As they traveled they were miraculously healed. It was their faith in Jesus’ words that did it.

But that is only part of the story. One of the ten lepers, when he realized he had been cured, came back to find Jesus. (This leper, by the way, was a Samaritan, which made him a double outcast.) When he found the Lord, the leper praised God in a loud voice and threw himself at the feet of Jesus in worship.

Jesus said, “Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?”

The reading this week offers us an important lesson about gratitude. Last week’s gospel made the point that God does not owe gratitude to us simply because we are doing our duty. We are the ones who have received undeserved gifts from the Lord: mercy, forgiveness, and salvation. Therefore, we, and not God, should be the ones expressing gratitude.

This week's reading directly follows last week’s reading in the 17th chapter of Luke. It is meant to reinforce the concept of gratitude by showing us a clear-cut example. Gratitude is not only the proper attitude we should have when we receive blessings, it is also the ONLY attitude that will produce happiness.

There are people in our society who have been truly blessed; they are healthy and wealthy, and have all kinds of wonderful opportunities most people can only dream about. And yet, many of them have very little gratitude. As a result, they are miserable most of the time. They complain and moan and find fault with everyone and everything.

On the other hand, there are some people who seemingly have been dealt a lousy hand by life. They have a lot of problems and struggles. They have little money, and maybe suffer from serious health issues. But they are grateful for what they do have, and they are especially grateful to God for helping them through the rough times. As a result, they are truly happy and content.

In the gospel reading, all ten lepers had a certain amount of faith in Jesus. They all did as He instructed before any healing had occurred. It was this faith—this trust in what was yet unseen—that removed their disease.

But having faith in Jesus, though the first and most important aspect of the Christian life, is only part of the whole experience. Offering praise and thanksgiving and gratitude to God for who He is and what He has done for us also is crucial. Only the one Samaritan leper did this, and only he was made truly happy.

All ten lepers were healed physically, but only the one Samaritan was also healed spiritually. His gratitude healed his soul after his faithful trip to the priests had healed his body. Since our souls are eternal while our bodies are only temporary, you could make the case that spiritual ingratitude is a worse condition than physical leprosy.

We should model the Samaritan leper’s behavior. If it has been a while since we praised God in a loud voice and threw ourselves at the feet of Jesus in worship, maybe we should try it. We, not God, will benefit the most. This expression of gratitude will make us truly happy.