Last night, we had what may have been the largest Thanksgiving the Vineland Vieras have ever seen. The guest list was extensive.
The Patriarch (my grandfather) and his wife. (2)
The Sister (Hortencia) and her husband, her four children, her expecting daughter-in-law, and her in-law counterpart. (9)
The Daughter (Mary Helen) and her daughter (me) and son-in-law (Michael). (3)
The First Son (Pablo Ernesto) and his wife. (2)
The Second Son (Otniel Ismael) and his wife, his three children, his son-in-law, and his in-law counterparts (father-in-law, mother-in-law, and son-in-law to his oldest daughter). (9)
All together we were 25 persons gathered around the table, giving thanks for all the good and the bad the last year brought, and rejoicing to be, one way or another, family.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
More Thoughts on Family
Today I got an email from my good friend, Robbie about the haps in his life over the last few months. This email was in response to a series of emails written by people I lived and worked with while I was in still overseas.
I smiled as I read the email, excited for him and his new wife, about God's leading in their life, about his new job and the cool new opportunities it brings...Just like I was excited to hear about Melissa, and Ross, and SamandJoan (in my mind SamandJoan are actually only one person) and all the haps in their lives. And when I got to the end of Robbie's email, I sighed the way content people do and I thought to myself, "It's good to catch up with family."
And then I had the sudden realization that Robbie, Melissa, Ross, and SamandJoan are not actually related to me. That we share no bloodline and except through an arranged marriage of our children/grandchildren, we probably will never be "related" to each other.
But we are family in the way that the intensity of our shared experience, coupled with the Faith and Spirit that binds us, AND the similarity of our hopes and ambitions for the present life make us Family. And I thought about other people in our lives who are significant in this way, and I missed them greatly and ached for eternity.
It is indeed good to keep up with Family.
I smiled as I read the email, excited for him and his new wife, about God's leading in their life, about his new job and the cool new opportunities it brings...Just like I was excited to hear about Melissa, and Ross, and SamandJoan (in my mind SamandJoan are actually only one person) and all the haps in their lives. And when I got to the end of Robbie's email, I sighed the way content people do and I thought to myself, "It's good to catch up with family."
And then I had the sudden realization that Robbie, Melissa, Ross, and SamandJoan are not actually related to me. That we share no bloodline and except through an arranged marriage of our children/grandchildren, we probably will never be "related" to each other.
But we are family in the way that the intensity of our shared experience, coupled with the Faith and Spirit that binds us, AND the similarity of our hopes and ambitions for the present life make us Family. And I thought about other people in our lives who are significant in this way, and I missed them greatly and ached for eternity.
It is indeed good to keep up with Family.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Family Reunions
On Tuesday, Michael and I rode down with my mother, my uncle, and two of my cousins to Maryland for a not-so-happy sort of family reunion. My Great-Aunt Sylvia passed away last Friday, and Tuesday we were gathering for a funeral and burial.
Tia Sylvia was the last of her generation, the middle child of the five children my great-grandfather had with his fourth and last wife, my great-grandmother. And so, the American branch (or at least the Mid-Atlantic branch) of the Flores family came together, Tuesday morning at 11:00 am in Greenbelt, MA to pay final respects to her and to that generation.
In attendance were:
From the Clan of Mariana Flores: My mother, two uncles, one aunt, two cousins, my grandfather and his wife, Michael and myself.
From the Clan of Edilberto Reyes: two cousin-uncles (as we call them), their wives, and their combined seven children.
From the Clan of David Flores: two cousin-uncles, one aunt, and their combined six children.
From the Clan of Sylvia Flores: two cousin-aunts, one cousin-uncle, and their combined seven children.
(Ismael Flores, who died in his youth, had no clan to represent him.)
These forty persons represent only a fraction of the Flores family. There remain at least seven more cousin-aunts/uncles in Honduras, their spouses, and their children, as well as those spread throughout the United States, and perhaps throughout the world.
Though the circumstances of this particular reunion were less than ideal, it allowed me the space for contemplation that the previous three reunions (a.k.a. weddings) did not provide. For the first time, I was impressed with the sheer size of my family tree. I have, of course, always known my extended family was...extensive. Besides the Flores family, there is also the Viera family, the Sauceda Family, and the Rodriguez family, each at least as large as the Flores, if not larger. But on Tuesday, as I observed each of my cousins mourning the oldest generation, I was deeply impressed that so many people share some little bit of blood, of genetic code, of history with me.
I was also deeply impressed with the connection we continue to maintain despite the very mobile lifestyles each member enjoys. Despite the fact that my great-grandfather never left his hometown, his progeny have spread not only to various Honduran cities, but many American cities, across several states, as well. But as it has always been true since I can remember, when we come together it's as if no time has passed at all. There are just more children.
I was most deeply impressed, however, by how little I know of our own story. Of who they all were before America, before me, before. And as I watched my youngest cousins drop roses into my great-aunt's grave, I thought about how much story is left to tell, and how few are left to tell it.
And maybe this is what I mourned most when I mourned my great-aunt Sylvia, the last of her generation.
Tia Sylvia was the last of her generation, the middle child of the five children my great-grandfather had with his fourth and last wife, my great-grandmother. And so, the American branch (or at least the Mid-Atlantic branch) of the Flores family came together, Tuesday morning at 11:00 am in Greenbelt, MA to pay final respects to her and to that generation.
In attendance were:
From the Clan of Mariana Flores: My mother, two uncles, one aunt, two cousins, my grandfather and his wife, Michael and myself.
From the Clan of Edilberto Reyes: two cousin-uncles (as we call them), their wives, and their combined seven children.
From the Clan of David Flores: two cousin-uncles, one aunt, and their combined six children.
From the Clan of Sylvia Flores: two cousin-aunts, one cousin-uncle, and their combined seven children.
(Ismael Flores, who died in his youth, had no clan to represent him.)
These forty persons represent only a fraction of the Flores family. There remain at least seven more cousin-aunts/uncles in Honduras, their spouses, and their children, as well as those spread throughout the United States, and perhaps throughout the world.
Though the circumstances of this particular reunion were less than ideal, it allowed me the space for contemplation that the previous three reunions (a.k.a. weddings) did not provide. For the first time, I was impressed with the sheer size of my family tree. I have, of course, always known my extended family was...extensive. Besides the Flores family, there is also the Viera family, the Sauceda Family, and the Rodriguez family, each at least as large as the Flores, if not larger. But on Tuesday, as I observed each of my cousins mourning the oldest generation, I was deeply impressed that so many people share some little bit of blood, of genetic code, of history with me.
I was also deeply impressed with the connection we continue to maintain despite the very mobile lifestyles each member enjoys. Despite the fact that my great-grandfather never left his hometown, his progeny have spread not only to various Honduran cities, but many American cities, across several states, as well. But as it has always been true since I can remember, when we come together it's as if no time has passed at all. There are just more children.
I was most deeply impressed, however, by how little I know of our own story. Of who they all were before America, before me, before. And as I watched my youngest cousins drop roses into my great-aunt's grave, I thought about how much story is left to tell, and how few are left to tell it.
And maybe this is what I mourned most when I mourned my great-aunt Sylvia, the last of her generation.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Rounding Out the Year
Last weekend, Michael and I celebrated our one year anniversary. I cannot begin to express how crazy it is to be standing on this side of that year.
In the last eighteen months, we have done the following:
Year Two is starting out just as eventful. We're looking to move again, this time not so transglobally (I think I just invented another word), transcontinentally, or even transprovincially/transstately. We're only going transcountyly this time. More on this in posts to come.
(P.S. We're not pregnant.)
In the last eighteen months, we have done the following:
- lived in China
- returned to the United States
- signed two year contracts for cell phones
- got engaged
- moved our former lives in Iowa and Texas/Oklahoma to New Jersey
- planned a wedding
- found a house to rent despite being unemployed
- got married
- lived off our savings while working less than 15 hours a week each for 8 months
- found full-time jobs
- in Michael's case, said full-time job ended; in Elena's case full-time job turned out not as expected
Year Two is starting out just as eventful. We're looking to move again, this time not so transglobally (I think I just invented another word), transcontinentally, or even transprovincially/transstately. We're only going transcountyly this time. More on this in posts to come.
(P.S. We're not pregnant.)
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Mercy and Justice: Human Dignity
Job’s Example
Job 31:13-15 reads:
“If I have denied justice to my menservants and maidservants when they had a grievance against me, what will I do when God confronts me? What will I answer when called to account? Did not He who made me in the womb make them? Did not the same one form us both within our mothers?” (Job 29:7-17 and 31:13-23 both are passages that will stir up good things in you)
There is something here about Mercy and Justice that shakes me to the core. It’s Job’s philosophy of man. It’s his basic reasoning of why he should act justly and be merciful to others. (There is in fact two things here but right now I’m just focusing on one. I’ll cover the other one at another time.) So, what was this reasoning? What was this philosophy of man? It was this: My neighbor and I were both made from the same hands. We come from the same Creator.
Job knew that his servants, no matter how poor and “insignificant” they were to society, were to be valued as fellow human beings. He knew that they were created by the same God who created him. Therefore, valued them. He knew of the dignity they deserved just on the basis of where they came from. Therefore, when Job acted justly with his servants, he was valuing and preserving their human dignity.
Shem and Japheth’s Example
Genesis 9:18-29 records the story of Noah getting drunk and passing out naked in his tent. His son, Ham, went into the tent and, after seeing his father’s nakedness, proceeds to tell his brothers about it. The brothers, Shem and Japheth, took a garment with them, walked into the tent backwards, and covered their father’s nakedness with their faces turned away. After Noah awoke and found out about all of this, he cursed Ham and blessed Shem and Japheth.
I’ve read this many times in my life and I’ve always thought that the curse upon Ham was pretty harsh just for something that the National Enquirer would reject because it’s not very sensational. But there is something here about Mercy and Justice. And that something is crucial. That something is called shame. The injustice that happened was that Ham brought Noah’s shame out in the open by exposing his nakedness.
Here are two examples of shame: 1) The shame a father feels because he doesn’t have the means to buy enough groceries for his family. 2) The shame a peasant farmer feels because he is powerless to fight against the government who steals his land. The first of these deals with what Mercy does. Mercy provides for the poor. Mercy is open-handed to the needy. Mercy has a fat heart of compassion for the poor. The second deals with Justice. Justice fights for the oppressed. Justice speaks up for those who cannot speak for themselves. Justice has a hatred for injustice.
In the story about Noah and his sons, Ham exposed Noah’s shame. Shem and Japheth, on the other hand, restored their father’s dignity. Our natural sinful selves are interested in scandalous and sensational stories. Shem and Japheth no doubt had that same sinful nature. But they didn’t submit to it like their brother did. Maybe they remembered God’s words to Noah: “God made man in His own image” (Gen 9:6) and therefore made a connection between God’s image and human dignity.
Shem and Japheth saw something in creation that brought worth to others. They knew that people were image bearers of their great and glorious God. Noah had brought shame upon himself. Ham brought that shame out in the open. Shem and Japheth took on the role of restoring Noah’s dignity and by doing so, restoring God’s glorious image in Noah.
The Exchange
I see that an important goal of Mercy and Justice is taking shame away from others and trading it in for human dignity. Why? Because everyone, although totally depraved, was created in the image of God. Mercy and Justice is about exchanging shame for dignity. It is exchanging shame for the image of God. It is exchanging shame for the glory of God.
How Did Job, Shem, and Japheth Exchange Shame for Dignity?
Job valued and preserved human dignity in his servants. Shem and Japheth restored human dignity in their father. Valuing, preserving, and restoring dignity in the poor are all very important jobs of believers who desire to live the command “to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)
Mercy and Justice is valuing, preserving, and restoring dignity in fellow human beings.
It is valuing, preserving, and restoring the image of God in fellow human beings.
It is valuing, preserving, and restoring the glory of God in fellow human beings.
Job 31:13-15 reads:
“If I have denied justice to my menservants and maidservants when they had a grievance against me, what will I do when God confronts me? What will I answer when called to account? Did not He who made me in the womb make them? Did not the same one form us both within our mothers?” (Job 29:7-17 and 31:13-23 both are passages that will stir up good things in you)
There is something here about Mercy and Justice that shakes me to the core. It’s Job’s philosophy of man. It’s his basic reasoning of why he should act justly and be merciful to others. (There is in fact two things here but right now I’m just focusing on one. I’ll cover the other one at another time.) So, what was this reasoning? What was this philosophy of man? It was this: My neighbor and I were both made from the same hands. We come from the same Creator.
Job knew that his servants, no matter how poor and “insignificant” they were to society, were to be valued as fellow human beings. He knew that they were created by the same God who created him. Therefore, valued them. He knew of the dignity they deserved just on the basis of where they came from. Therefore, when Job acted justly with his servants, he was valuing and preserving their human dignity.
Shem and Japheth’s Example
Genesis 9:18-29 records the story of Noah getting drunk and passing out naked in his tent. His son, Ham, went into the tent and, after seeing his father’s nakedness, proceeds to tell his brothers about it. The brothers, Shem and Japheth, took a garment with them, walked into the tent backwards, and covered their father’s nakedness with their faces turned away. After Noah awoke and found out about all of this, he cursed Ham and blessed Shem and Japheth.
I’ve read this many times in my life and I’ve always thought that the curse upon Ham was pretty harsh just for something that the National Enquirer would reject because it’s not very sensational. But there is something here about Mercy and Justice. And that something is crucial. That something is called shame. The injustice that happened was that Ham brought Noah’s shame out in the open by exposing his nakedness.
Here are two examples of shame: 1) The shame a father feels because he doesn’t have the means to buy enough groceries for his family. 2) The shame a peasant farmer feels because he is powerless to fight against the government who steals his land. The first of these deals with what Mercy does. Mercy provides for the poor. Mercy is open-handed to the needy. Mercy has a fat heart of compassion for the poor. The second deals with Justice. Justice fights for the oppressed. Justice speaks up for those who cannot speak for themselves. Justice has a hatred for injustice.
In the story about Noah and his sons, Ham exposed Noah’s shame. Shem and Japheth, on the other hand, restored their father’s dignity. Our natural sinful selves are interested in scandalous and sensational stories. Shem and Japheth no doubt had that same sinful nature. But they didn’t submit to it like their brother did. Maybe they remembered God’s words to Noah: “God made man in His own image” (Gen 9:6) and therefore made a connection between God’s image and human dignity.
Shem and Japheth saw something in creation that brought worth to others. They knew that people were image bearers of their great and glorious God. Noah had brought shame upon himself. Ham brought that shame out in the open. Shem and Japheth took on the role of restoring Noah’s dignity and by doing so, restoring God’s glorious image in Noah.
The Exchange
I see that an important goal of Mercy and Justice is taking shame away from others and trading it in for human dignity. Why? Because everyone, although totally depraved, was created in the image of God. Mercy and Justice is about exchanging shame for dignity. It is exchanging shame for the image of God. It is exchanging shame for the glory of God.
How Did Job, Shem, and Japheth Exchange Shame for Dignity?
Job valued and preserved human dignity in his servants. Shem and Japheth restored human dignity in their father. Valuing, preserving, and restoring dignity in the poor are all very important jobs of believers who desire to live the command “to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)
Mercy and Justice is valuing, preserving, and restoring dignity in fellow human beings.
It is valuing, preserving, and restoring the image of God in fellow human beings.
It is valuing, preserving, and restoring the glory of God in fellow human beings.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
3 Poems
The clanking and whirring of the machine in the next room
And the muffled shouts of workers telling stories through through their tedious shifts,
Push their way through the dry wall and mix with the ever-ringing office telephone
And the buzz of air-conditioning and my laptop's fan.
These industrial, commercial Monday through Friday sounds only emphasize
the loneliness in me
That waits patiently for the 5 o'clock bell and my return
To the more familiar sounds of our drippy faucet, our broken ice cube maker, and our merengue-loving neighbors
Where I wait for you to come home to me and relieve me of my loneliness.
Too often
I have tried to reinvent
myself
into the various personas
of alternate existences
when all along
There has only been
singularly
me.
This person
fond of typewriters
with nimble fingers across keys
Only ever fully incarnated in the collecting of words
across a page.
There are 1000 poems
trapped inside my fingers
just underneath my fingernails
itchy where I can't scratch
Pushing their way through
finger tips
reaching for paper and pen
or keyboard keys
or even sidewalk chalk
searching for whatever means they can find
to work their way out
And the muffled shouts of workers telling stories through through their tedious shifts,
Push their way through the dry wall and mix with the ever-ringing office telephone
And the buzz of air-conditioning and my laptop's fan.
These industrial, commercial Monday through Friday sounds only emphasize
the loneliness in me
That waits patiently for the 5 o'clock bell and my return
To the more familiar sounds of our drippy faucet, our broken ice cube maker, and our merengue-loving neighbors
Where I wait for you to come home to me and relieve me of my loneliness.
Too often
I have tried to reinvent
myself
into the various personas
of alternate existences
when all along
There has only been
singularly
me.
This person
fond of typewriters
with nimble fingers across keys
Only ever fully incarnated in the collecting of words
across a page.
There are 1000 poems
trapped inside my fingers
just underneath my fingernails
itchy where I can't scratch
Pushing their way through
finger tips
reaching for paper and pen
or keyboard keys
or even sidewalk chalk
searching for whatever means they can find
to work their way out
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The Business Trip
Okay, so it wasn't quite as "soul-sucking" as I imagined it would be.
But I am really glad to be home. I called Michael at least four times yesterday--when we got to the hotel/before dinner, after dinner, before I read Eldest, and before I went to bed. I called him this morning, too, when I woke up, and again before he left for work. Call it newlywed-whatever, but I do not care to repeat our long-distance experience.
So yeah, it wasn't as bad as I had anticipated. (Even the nine hours we spent in the car were much less awkward than I had feared.) My next trip probably won't be until November, I don't think. And I'm okay with that.
- Dinner was great. Not only was the restaurant one of those chic-but-down-home-local places, the company was warm and witty.
- I took a shower in a full size bathtub, not in the small broom closet we have at home.
- Our meeting was not in an over-air-conditioned conference room, but in an (albeit over-air-conditioned) atrium filled with plants, a pond with coy, and a coffee bar.
- The weather was beautiful, and even though I didn't visit any farms or see any of the campuses, the mountains and the trees and the blue sky did me a whole lot of good.
But I am really glad to be home. I called Michael at least four times yesterday--when we got to the hotel/before dinner, after dinner, before I read Eldest, and before I went to bed. I called him this morning, too, when I woke up, and again before he left for work. Call it newlywed-whatever, but I do not care to repeat our long-distance experience.
So yeah, it wasn't as bad as I had anticipated. (Even the nine hours we spent in the car were much less awkward than I had feared.) My next trip probably won't be until November, I don't think. And I'm okay with that.
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