"We have flown the air like birds..."

Pogonip Descends on Reno!

     Praise the Lord from the earth… hail, snow and frost, stormy wind fulfilling his command!
– Psalm 148:7, 8

     This morning, we awoke to find the valley shrouded in icy gray fog. Every pine tree, fencepost, and skeletal vine was covered in what we in the West call pogonip. Pogonip is our word for the rare ice fog that produces dramatic and beautiful spiked frost covering everything. It's almost like overnight, snowflakes were magnified a thousand times and then attached to everything, and now with your naked eye you can actually see their intricate crystalline structures. Conditions have to be just right for pogonip to form: temperatures have to be below freezing, and humidity has to be at about 100%, which is a rare occurrence in the high desert. It's a spectacular, yet eerie sight.


     The first Americans found it difficult to see any beauty in pogonip. The word comes from a Shoshone word meaning "white death" or "frozen death". The Washoe Indians who summered at Lake Tahoe, but wisely wintered here in the valley where it's usually warmer, often saw weaker or older persons in their tribe carried off by respiratory diseases during such extreme weather.


      Still, pogonip's delicate white splendor remains, and this morning's rush-hour seems somehow hushed… muted, as though even busy commuters recognize they are in the presence of some of God's finer handiwork.

Keepers of the Heart Know Words Become Bullets

"For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The good person brings good things out of a good treasure, and the evil person brings evil things out of an evil treasure."
– Matthew 12:34,35

     Does it seem that more and more angry and hateful words uttered by people are becoming bullets? I'm not just talking about hateful and angry words spoken by a radical imam far off in the Middle East, but by people as part of our national daily dialogue. Here's a sample of what I mean:

• Angry words about immigrants from Mexico have now translated into increased deaths in Arizona: Link to Salon
• Hateful words about gays have directly translated into the deaths by suicide: Link to Dallas Voice
• Glenn Beck's hateful words about the Tide Foundation, an organization that facilitates charitable giving, almost ended in a blood bath: Link to Salon

      Yes, yes, I know all about the First Amendment. Still, I can't help but think of the words of Supreme Court Judge Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. in 1919: "The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man falsely shouting fire in a theater and causing a panic…" Have we really become a people who believe that because of the First Amendment nothing we might choose to say has any real consequence? Have we so forgotten the power of well-reasoned discourse and carefully chosen words that we believe the only effective remedies are "Second Amendment remedies"? When did we become so powerless as a people?

      Rather than try to reach back to a time of civility in American life and politics I'm not quite sure ever really existed, I would suggest the kind of angry tirades we hear on talk radio, from leaders in our government, from consumers who feel they have been wronged by a store or restaurant, from drivers irritated by traffic, and sadly sometimes even from our own mouths, are not in keeping with the Christian path.

"Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life." – Proverbs 4

     We, as Christians, are to be keepers of the heart. If we want to change the world, it is not done with legislation or wars or sparkly new scientific inventions – it is done by changing hearts. The simplest barometer of the state of our hearts are the words we speak. I may not be able to change the tenor of the national dialogue, but I can be vigilant to keep watch over my own heart and encourage others to do the same. Oh, neither you nor I will ever do it perfectly, but it's a start. If those who are not Christians can't see any difference between the way we talk and the way everyone else talks, how then will they recognize us?

High Card Draw to Select a Bishop?

     You know there is something that just feels right about living in a state like Nevada and knowing that one of the preferred methods in our constitution for deciding tied elections is high card draw.

     In one of our seventeen counties, Eureka, there was a tie in November for the position of County Clerk-Treasurer (Yes, we do have to double-up some of our positions in the small counties – what we refer to as the "cow" counties, even though Eureka is known more for mining.) This tie probably would not have occured had one of the candidates not asked for a recount. As a result, a couple ballots were added in and one ballot where both candidates were marked was allowed since the voter's intent was clear (He/she had written "Oops" next to one of the candidates.)

     Four new sealed decks were brought out on the day of the drawing. Jackie Berg, the incumbent, eliminated one deck and her opponent, Carrie Wright, eliminated another. A third deck was eliminated by a county commissioner, and then the remaining deck was ceremoniously shuffled and fanned by the manager of the Owl Club, a fine gaming establishment, in Eureka (Um, it's both the name of the county and the town, you see.) The incumbent ended up winning the draw with an eight of hearts; her GOP challenger drew only a three of hearts. Many Nevadans were delighted by the account in our newspapers here and here.

     Now, we are quite happy with our bishop, thank you very much, but I am curious, so I plan to look into Nevada's canons just to see how we handle a tie vote for bishop should it occur in the future. I mean we have a tradition of gambling to select representatives in both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. The high priest of Israel carried the "Urim and the Thummim" in his breastplate for tough decisions. Honestly, all they were was a pair of fancy dice (Ex. 28:30; Nu. 27:21). When selecting an apostle to replace Judas, the eleven apostles drew lots – who knows, a more careful look at the Koine Greek might reveal they actually did use a deck of cards to choose Matthias (Ac. 1:26). Instead of endless balloting for a bishop, and counting votes by order, we might as well welcome her/him to Nevada with a traditional high card draw. It's entertaining and, more importantly, it's biblical.

Simon's Cat in "Santa Claws"

     Of course my tree's not down. We're only on the sixth day of Christmas ("Geese alaying" for those of you keeping track.) I am, however, getting a little nervous about the outside Christmas lights since my pagan homeowner's association tends to send out notices threatening all sorts of draconian consequences unless lights are taken down – I kid you not. Don't these people realize it's not even Epiphany yet?! Besides... it's cold out... and the ladder's really high.

     My cats have thoroughly enjoyed the season! For you cat lovers out there, here's a wonderful little video that answers that age-old math problem: CT + C = ? (Christmas Tree + Cat = ?)

A Digital Nativity

     If the Nativity took place with today's social media available! Enjoy!

The Time Change

     I always used to be amused by people who, in the fall, said they were late to church because of the time change. My thoughts always ran along the lines of, "Hmm... shouldn't you be here an hour early then?" What I have come to realize as I mellow (now doesn't that sound so much nicer than aging?) is that being late during the fall change and being late when the clocks jump forward in the spring, although the same result, have completely different root causes.

     Being late in the spring is explained easily enough. We go along living our normal routines when all of a sudden – BANG! Do everything you are used to doing, and be everywhere you're expected to be, but do it on an hour's less sleep. Yes, I know I should have gone to bed an hour earlier the night before, but try to convince either your kids or your cats they should do so. No wonder people come into church the day after we spring forward looking a bit dazed.

     Its autumnal equivalent has a completely different anatomy. In the fall, people aren't late because they've lost an hour, but precisely because they've gained an hour. In the spring, the sun has already been assaulting your retinas earlier and earlier each day, so you might as well get up anyway. I mean, what's the use of fighting it? If you have kids they probably have been bouncing on your bed since 5:17 AM begging to hunt for Easter eggs anyway.

     Ah, but in the fall, you're wrapped in your warm dark cocoon dreaming, secure in the knowledge this particular Sunday morning, of all the Sunday mornings in the year, you can hit that snooze button two, maybe even three times without guilt or consequence. It may be my imagination, but it also seems that particular morning every year my coffee tastes especially smooth, seducing me with its Arabica goodness into taking everything just a little bit slower. Why rush? Life is the journey, not the destination.

     You float along in this pleasant fugue until you happen glance at the clock you so joyfully turned back one hour last night. As it comes slowly into focus and you do the math, you realize you now have precisely seven-and-a-half minutes to get in the shower and get on the road or you’re going to be late to church!