Saturday, August 21, 2010
I Admire You
Admire: (fr. ad-mirari: To wonder, fr. astonishing); Admiration: 1: Archaic: Wonder 2: An object of esteem. 3: Delighted or astonished approbation (praise)
Work: …..
I was just leaving the coffee shop and walking to my car when I was stopped by the man. I had seen him often in the shop, and exchanged “good morning’s” on occasion. He knew my name; I don’t think I ever knew his. He just wanted to chat, and I just wanted to move on to my Friday morning chores: banking, shopping and the post office, before I went to mom’s house.
After a couple of minutes of polite conversation, I ended it with a “well, I have to be going; I’ve got a few things to do before I head over to care for my elderly mother.” And then he said it: “I admire you.”
I knew what he was referring to, but it struck me as odd nonetheless, this stranger saying he admired me. I made light of it, saying “that everyone does what he has to do” as I walked away, but the words wouldn’t leave me, and I thought on them as I drove around.
Surely he said the words casually in conversation, without any deep meaning, unless perhaps they had some deep (unknown to me) meaning to the speaker. Perhaps he wished he had offered similar care or concern for a loved one; perhaps he wished he could do it now. And as for me, the recipient of his words, I had some semblance of wishing the words WERE spoken not casually, but in truth, but I didn’t really believe myself worthy of such good wishes. Admiration: esteem, praise?? Me?? My flippant remark as I left was the only truth I recognized in the brief conversation: everyone does what they have to do --- don’t they?
Earlier that morning, around the coffee table, I had mentioned to the men gathered there that I was making progress in setting up a website to help the out-of-work in our community, those who wanted to work at anything, even small part time jobs. (I’ll write more on this at another time, if this comes about.) One of the small businessmen gathered there said: “Let me know when you get that site set up; I’m tired of looking for people who really want to work.” He indicated that many of the men he hired were unused to coming in every day on time, and/or felt no concern at just taking an unannounced day off because “they were tired that morning.” He offered steady pay, benefits, long-hours if they wanted, and even travel --- but he was having a difficult time finding and keeping steady workers at $8 - $18 per hour.
With unemployment rates as they are, how could this be?
I think perhaps one reason is that we’ve had it too good for too long in this country. We’ve grown lax in assuming the good times will continue, no matter what we do or say. And we’ve passed those assumptions on to our children, thinking this mindset will “make them feel loved and secure,” a good thing – or so we think. But we are wrong. Good things do not have to continue; they have to be earned, over and over, and over again.
Our way of saying things has begun to reflect our thinking on them, growing very casual, assuming, and without any serious meaning. You see it in the words teen-agers often use: “sort of,” “kinda” and “like” are used to describe almost anything and everything. They “sort of” enjoy that television show or that person. They “like” want to do good in school, or do good in, “like,” school. And they “kinda” want to wear that outfit. The casual words and the way they are used are very flexible, applying to both verbs and nouns. So they “sort of” or “kinda” or “like” want to do something, and the place they want to go is “sort of” or “kinda” or “like” the mall. The casual words indicate they may or may not want to do the action, and they may or may not want to go to the place. It’s a casualness about both their purpose, and how purposeful they are.
If we believe that we really ARE very serious about those things which are important, then this casualness seems to indicate that they believe nothing they do is important: no particular action, no particular thing. Young people appear to express an unsaid assumption that regardless of what they do, things will still turn out all right. Whatever they need or want will still be given to them; the important things will get done; they need not worry about anything.
From my many readings of history and philosophy, this is an attitude and thinking that brings about the downfall of countries, and of civilizations. What we do DOES matter, and when a people believe that what they do is unimportant, they will find that no one does the important things.
I’ve read many theories about how we’ve gotten to this situation. Some say we’ve given our kids too much. Some say we haven’t expected enough of them, taught them to know the meaning of work, and the real rewards of work. (Some say we haven’t taught them much at all.) And some say we haven’t taught, or shown by our example, the important purpose of their lives --- not just their lives, but the PURPOSE of their lives, and how to live them as morally good people. And some say it’s not about what we’ve given or we’ve taught at all, but it’s about what they’ve learned and how they’ve grown up --- and the fact that many of them haven’t. Many of them still think and act as kids, thinking they will be given things, thinking they will be loved, thinking they will even be rewarded ---- no matter what.
They seem to have never heard, and never expect to hear, those words we recently, seriously, thought about, those dreadful words from our Lord: “I do not know you.” At the end of their lives we won’t be there for our children to hug them when they cry or bail them out of their problems, and when the Lord says “I do not know you” they won’t “sort of” be getting into heaven. And perhaps, considering our failures in this critical responsibility, we won’t “sorta” get in either. And all of our temporary disappointments in the ones we love, our hopes that things will eventually get better for them, will be permanently destroyed. But this does not have to be our future; we can change it.
Our time on earth is a time for growing in holiness, and helping those around us (and our children) to grow in holiness, and I think GROWING is the real important word there. We can’t be “kinda” getting holier. We need to do things with a deliberateness, a purpose, and with a confidence that what we do does matter. We need to say and do things, knowing what they mean, and not treating them like casual coffee-shop chatter. We need to teach our young to be serious about virtues, and to see and understand their concrete, real, and everlasting value, and that what they do with their lives does matter.
And if we fail to understand some of these things ourselves, we need to take the time to learn them --- after all, we are supposed to be the adults --- or do you view yourself as “kinda” an adult?
I hope not. I hope and pray you are more than that, because I truly want to say, and mean, that: “I admire you.”
Work: …..
I was just leaving the coffee shop and walking to my car when I was stopped by the man. I had seen him often in the shop, and exchanged “good morning’s” on occasion. He knew my name; I don’t think I ever knew his. He just wanted to chat, and I just wanted to move on to my Friday morning chores: banking, shopping and the post office, before I went to mom’s house.
After a couple of minutes of polite conversation, I ended it with a “well, I have to be going; I’ve got a few things to do before I head over to care for my elderly mother.” And then he said it: “I admire you.”
I knew what he was referring to, but it struck me as odd nonetheless, this stranger saying he admired me. I made light of it, saying “that everyone does what he has to do” as I walked away, but the words wouldn’t leave me, and I thought on them as I drove around.
Surely he said the words casually in conversation, without any deep meaning, unless perhaps they had some deep (unknown to me) meaning to the speaker. Perhaps he wished he had offered similar care or concern for a loved one; perhaps he wished he could do it now. And as for me, the recipient of his words, I had some semblance of wishing the words WERE spoken not casually, but in truth, but I didn’t really believe myself worthy of such good wishes. Admiration: esteem, praise?? Me?? My flippant remark as I left was the only truth I recognized in the brief conversation: everyone does what they have to do --- don’t they?
Earlier that morning, around the coffee table, I had mentioned to the men gathered there that I was making progress in setting up a website to help the out-of-work in our community, those who wanted to work at anything, even small part time jobs. (I’ll write more on this at another time, if this comes about.) One of the small businessmen gathered there said: “Let me know when you get that site set up; I’m tired of looking for people who really want to work.” He indicated that many of the men he hired were unused to coming in every day on time, and/or felt no concern at just taking an unannounced day off because “they were tired that morning.” He offered steady pay, benefits, long-hours if they wanted, and even travel --- but he was having a difficult time finding and keeping steady workers at $8 - $18 per hour.
With unemployment rates as they are, how could this be?
I think perhaps one reason is that we’ve had it too good for too long in this country. We’ve grown lax in assuming the good times will continue, no matter what we do or say. And we’ve passed those assumptions on to our children, thinking this mindset will “make them feel loved and secure,” a good thing – or so we think. But we are wrong. Good things do not have to continue; they have to be earned, over and over, and over again.
Our way of saying things has begun to reflect our thinking on them, growing very casual, assuming, and without any serious meaning. You see it in the words teen-agers often use: “sort of,” “kinda” and “like” are used to describe almost anything and everything. They “sort of” enjoy that television show or that person. They “like” want to do good in school, or do good in, “like,” school. And they “kinda” want to wear that outfit. The casual words and the way they are used are very flexible, applying to both verbs and nouns. So they “sort of” or “kinda” or “like” want to do something, and the place they want to go is “sort of” or “kinda” or “like” the mall. The casual words indicate they may or may not want to do the action, and they may or may not want to go to the place. It’s a casualness about both their purpose, and how purposeful they are.
If we believe that we really ARE very serious about those things which are important, then this casualness seems to indicate that they believe nothing they do is important: no particular action, no particular thing. Young people appear to express an unsaid assumption that regardless of what they do, things will still turn out all right. Whatever they need or want will still be given to them; the important things will get done; they need not worry about anything.
From my many readings of history and philosophy, this is an attitude and thinking that brings about the downfall of countries, and of civilizations. What we do DOES matter, and when a people believe that what they do is unimportant, they will find that no one does the important things.
I’ve read many theories about how we’ve gotten to this situation. Some say we’ve given our kids too much. Some say we haven’t expected enough of them, taught them to know the meaning of work, and the real rewards of work. (Some say we haven’t taught them much at all.) And some say we haven’t taught, or shown by our example, the important purpose of their lives --- not just their lives, but the PURPOSE of their lives, and how to live them as morally good people. And some say it’s not about what we’ve given or we’ve taught at all, but it’s about what they’ve learned and how they’ve grown up --- and the fact that many of them haven’t. Many of them still think and act as kids, thinking they will be given things, thinking they will be loved, thinking they will even be rewarded ---- no matter what.
They seem to have never heard, and never expect to hear, those words we recently, seriously, thought about, those dreadful words from our Lord: “I do not know you.” At the end of their lives we won’t be there for our children to hug them when they cry or bail them out of their problems, and when the Lord says “I do not know you” they won’t “sort of” be getting into heaven. And perhaps, considering our failures in this critical responsibility, we won’t “sorta” get in either. And all of our temporary disappointments in the ones we love, our hopes that things will eventually get better for them, will be permanently destroyed. But this does not have to be our future; we can change it.
Our time on earth is a time for growing in holiness, and helping those around us (and our children) to grow in holiness, and I think GROWING is the real important word there. We can’t be “kinda” getting holier. We need to do things with a deliberateness, a purpose, and with a confidence that what we do does matter. We need to say and do things, knowing what they mean, and not treating them like casual coffee-shop chatter. We need to teach our young to be serious about virtues, and to see and understand their concrete, real, and everlasting value, and that what they do with their lives does matter.
And if we fail to understand some of these things ourselves, we need to take the time to learn them --- after all, we are supposed to be the adults --- or do you view yourself as “kinda” an adult?
I hope not. I hope and pray you are more than that, because I truly want to say, and mean, that: “I admire you.”
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