Spiritual Common Sense

I distinctly remember the moment I looked down and saw my father’s hand coming out of my sleeve.  Until then, I had always thought I was my Mother’s son.   Since then, I have found myself thinking I am becoming more and more like my Dad every day.

Is it the age, I wonder – me catching up on the staggered track of life – or does it have more to do with the fact that I am now a Father myself?  More and more I find myself saying the things he used to say, doing the things he used to do, and marveling at how much smarter he seems now than he was then.

My father was a strong man, dynamic, and dramatic.  A man of firm conviction, he expressed his opinions frequently and forcefully.  For him, everything was monochromatic, black or white, right or wrong.  There were no shades of grey or extenuating circumstances.

He walked into harm’s way daily for 20 years to put food on our table and seemed fearless until the day I came home with 7 stitches in my lip and blood covering my shirt.  Before I could tell him what happened, he erupted like a volcano.

I remember the moment clearly because it was one of those ‘aha’ moments.  My first reaction was – “Why is he yelling at me now?”  It seemed he was always yelling at me.  Then I realized he wasn’t yelling at me.  He was yelling for me.  He was yelling because he was afraid – not for himself, but for his son.

More than anything my Dad wanted me to get an education.  At first I thought it was because this was something he had been denied.  Now I know it had more to do with a Father’s desire to see a son reach his highest possibilities.  My son taught me that lesson.

Memorial Day was created to commemorate the men and women who died serving our country.  The numbers are sobering:  Eight thousand soldiers died in combat during the Revolutionary War; 53,402 died during World War I; 291,557 in World War II; 33,746 in Korea; and 47,355 in Vietnam – just to name the wars everyone remembers.  So far, we have lost 3,352 men and women in combat in Iraq and 2,227 in Afghanistan.

While we honor their memories, in truth there is little we can say about them that matters – no amount of speeches, flowers, or parades can honor them as they deserve to be honored.  The only way to do that is to live the values they died for.

In this context and at this time, when we mourn the loss of some of our best and brightest and celebrate their sacrifice, it is worth remembering the values they sanctified with their lives, why our nation is unique in the history of the world, and – from the perspective of a veteran of the Vietnam War – what makes this country worth fighting for.

To oldest and probably best answer came from Alexis de Tocqueville.  In 1831 in his book Democracy in America, De Tocqueville concluded spirituality and the desire for religious freedom was the “point of departure” for the entire American experience.  He said, “It must never be forgotten that religion gave birth to Anglo-American society.”

While it has become less fashionable to talk about the role of religion in public life, its influence is constant and undeniable.  Our Founding Fathers were deeply religious.  The values they used to shape our society were founded on religious principles and, in particular, the Christian way of life.

Religion is of such importance in our lives that John Adams, our second President, concluded:  “Our constitution was designed only for a moral and religious people.  It is wholly inadequate for the government of any other.”

To de Tocqueville this relationship was as much practical as it was spiritual. He saw the faith of our fathers and the institutionalization of their beliefs in our democracy as part of the genius of America.  “The Americans are fond of explaining almost all the actions of their lives by the principle of interest rightly understood,” he explained. “They show with complacency how an enlightened regard for themselves constantly prompts them to assist each other.”

The essence of America rests here – in the difference between saying, ‘I am my brother’s keeper’ and ‘I am my brother.’  It is the embodiment and actualization of the Golden Rule.  In America when we are at our best, there is no “us” and “them.”  There is only US.

When we were growing up my brother and I never knew who would be joining us for dinner.

My mother lost her mother at an early age.  All of her life she carried vivid memories of being passed from hand to hand, relative to relative, doing without, and never quite feeling like she belonged.

In her house all were welcome.  Everyone belonged and food was love.  No one ever went away hungry.

After my brother and I grew old enough to live independently, much of my mother’s affection was directed at her dog – an Airedale named Cassie.   Cassie was the runt of the litter.  Under Mom’s care she grew to be about as wide as she was tall.  It was not uncommon to find Mom cooking an egg or boiling a chicken to “sweeten” the dog’s dinner.

At the time it seemed funny.  Since then I have come to understand it as the manifestation of something more significant:   It is possible to give without loving; but it is impossible to love without giving.

The truth of this observation is abundantly evident in our lives.  What we call humanitarianism is nothing more than an extension of this basic instinct – a broader, more inclusive love.  As every mother knows, the impulse to give to those we love is irresistible.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Souls have been lost in the chasm between doing the right thing and doing the right thing for the right reason.

On Capitol Hill where I spent the first half of my professional life I became accustomed to seeing politicians fighting for the microphone, feeding their egos and taking credit whenever possible.

No less common in the world of charity where I now live is the citizen who conditions his gifts on gratitude, expecting the poor unfortunate he has aided to be forever grateful for every scrap of bread they have been given.

While one would claim responsibility for every favorable shift of the wind, the other would hold you in their debt for every kindness.  Both instincts come from the same self-serving source.

The more we seek credit or recompense, the more we seek to identify ourselves with the outcome of our actions, the more we risk losing our connection to the universe and our inner selves.  Our prayers become prescriptions and our good deeds take on the aspect of an economic exchange.

We must learn to detach ourselves from the ego’s need for control and credit.  The consequences of our actions are not in our hands.  Nor is the scorecard ours to keep.

James Durkee wrote, “When the great finals come, each one will be asked five questions.  First, what did you accomplish in the world with the power that God gave you?  Second, how did you help your neighbor, and what did you do for those in need?  Third, what did you do to serve God?  Fourth, what did you leave in the world that is worthwhile? Last, what did you bring into this new world which shall be of use here?”

There is only one answer.  The answer is love.

I learned that lesson from Hugh Jones.  Hugh spent his professional life in the banking business.  In l985, a year after he was made Chairman of the Barnett Bank of Jacksonville, Hugh started the Korean Heart program, which provided life-saving surgery for 70 children over the next ten years.  At the same time, Hugh established an unprecedented bank-wide employee volunteer program.  Under Hugh’s direction, all the bank’s employees were asked to put something back into the community through volunteer programs of their own design.  Walking the talk, Hugh took the lead in establishing a Ronald McDonald House, organized a local chapter of a wish-granting group for terminally ill children, helped create a homeless shelter for the city of Jacksonville, and built houses for Habitat for Humanity.

Hugh turns 82 today.  It’s safe to say he has touched at least one life for each day of his life.  Conservatively, that’s 29,930 lives.  If each of these people touches a similar number we have a geometric progression.  Hugh’s reach – and by extension, our own – is endless.

This is how the world is changed.  The smallest act of kindness affects the universe.

Every choice we make, everything we do is an investment.  As Hugh will testify, we enrich ourselves not by saving but by spending, not by investing in things but by investing in people.