Proverb of the Day

Looks like rain.

--Buddha

Is this politically incorrect? Is it culturally insensitive? Oh well, lighten up. All in the spirit of fun. The ideology that has no sense of humor is bound to wither and die, for humor is often the function through which we best understand ourselves and our beliefs.

I remember once hearing a joke about Jesus. Standing before an angry mob about the stone a woman caught in adultery, Jesus said "Let that person among you who is without sin cast the first stone."

Straightaway a good sized rock flew in.

"Mommmm!" Jesus said.

Now that has always seemed funny to me.

Another joke goes like this: Whose prayers does God hear best--those of the Christian, the Jew, or the Muslim. It is the Muslim, of course . . . they use loudspeakers.

It may be suggested that a lack of humor is always accompanied by an increase in intolerance, for the offense taken is not toward God--certainly not for His sake, for He has no need to be defended by poor creatures such as us. Rather the offense is the result of peevish self interest and a poverty of true self-esteem.

Baby Talk

My wife seems to have decided that English for the native speaker of another language is best conveyed through baby talk at a high volume. Given, in addition, that her own native tongue, which is Indonesian, renders her perpetually unable to produce the th sound so common in English, our exchange students, at the mercy of their tutor, are beginning to sound like Tweety Bird, from the old Warner Brothers cartoon.

I tot I taw a puddy tat.

Say goodbye to fluency, boys--Hello to comedy.

In the meantime, our Saudi student is finally beginning to warm up a bit to the dogs. He no longer runs, for instance, or tries to fend them off with a chair. He has learned, as we ourselves have had to learn, to sometimes just let the toothless Chihuahua bite his ankles and continue on his own way, with said Chihuahua trailing behind, gums clamped tenaciously to the pant cuff.

Now Roy, whose name we still cannot pronounce, has always gotten along famously with both dogs. The Chihuahua continues to bark at him, out of fairness I suppose, but he also sleeps with him many a night, forgetting his hatred of human beings for up to 8 hours at a time.

This is where the open trade of culture comes in, folks. We have only recently learned that Abdul is not afraid of the dogs in the least--as we had naturally, given our own customs and culture, judged him to be. No, what he is afraid of is that one or the other of the dogs might touch him, which in turn must initiate a thorough washing of his person, which in itself is something a person doesn't always have the time or inclination for.

Dogs, you see, are considered dirty. More than dirty really. The word is too tame. Filthy would probably be more suitable. Especially if wet.

Come of think of it, I myself avoid touching the wet dog as religiously as possible--so I am after all at least some part Saudi.

Muslims, when they pray, must face Mecca. This was quite the kerfuffle when Abdul first arrived, for there existed a question as to just which way was North. I guess you have to know where North is before you can figure out anything else. I kept pointing up, but this did not seem helpful.

Abdul retrieved his laptop at this point and brought up a satellite photo of out neighborhood. We zeroed in on our house. North, he said, North, which way is North?

I cannot help but think that no matter which way one positioned himself, he would eventually end up facing Mecca, or at least only miss it by an arm length or so. Last I heard, the world was still round, right?

In any case, the question seems to have been resolved--such that I can now say with very little doubt that if you stand in the middle of Abdul's room upstairs and face the window which looks down on the trash in our neighbors back yard, you are in fact looking directly toward Mecca.

I still think UP was a better idea.

Allah Adalah Kasih

Last night our Muslim house guest decided to pray. This in itself is not surprising, for he prays five times every day. It is a rule, you see. What was different last night was not that he decided to pray, but that he decided to pray very loudly, and moreover decided to do so until 1 or 2 in the morning. I'm not quite sure when it stopped, because at some point along the way I buried my head under the blankets and the pillow, and then the Labrador, forever the kind-hearted sort, laid himself on top.

I guess the idea would be that it's never too late at night to talk to God, and that is a good and honorable way of thinking. Still, it occurs to me that God, who needs no sleep, is sacrificing little in listening, whereas we human beings are weak vessels and must eventually nod off for our own good health even while there is so much remaining to be praised and adored and generally hollered over.

Now maybe, just maybe, a soothing sort of chanting and shouting would be bearable, and yet our particular Muslim's voice is not made for lullabies. The sad truth is--and no fault of his own--that his vocal chords and lungs have been constructed in such a way--praise Allah--that the resulting intonation resembles more closely that of the adult cow, which in prayer sounds as if it is being internally tormented in some manner, perhaps by a peptic disorder, a stomach ulcer.

This is how we know that God's ways are truly not our ways, His thoughts above ours--for apparently he finds these tortured groanings pleasing to the ear.

I conclude therefore that if I were God, I would have slept last night like a baby.

Be thou perfect, as your father in heaven is perfect.

Under the circumstances, this seems perfectly good advice.

The Christians, of course, have another take on this prayer thing. It goes like this:

"And when you pray, you shall not be like the hypocrites. For they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. But you, when you pray, go into your room, and when you have shut your door, pray to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly. And when you pray, do not use vain repetitions as the heathen do. For they think that they will be heard for their many words.

"Therefore do not be like them. For your Father knows the things you have need of before you ask Him."

Now that I can sleep to. To be perfectly honest, I know of no better place on earth for the quick cat nap to be had than on the pew during sermon at church.