I have wondered about something for a long time that I think we have never discussed on this blog. Let's discuss it today. It's the little word 'as'.
Say what?
Let me explain. I'm referring specifically to the word 'as' found in the middle of a particular sentence in the middle of what Christians call The Lord's Prayer. If you're unfamiliar with that prayer, it's the one that begins "Our Father which art in Heaven, hallowed be The mame."
Here is the sentence I'm talking about:
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.
Some traditions use this wording intead: And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
But what does that 'as' mean exactly? Here are some possibilities:
1. Because.
2. Only to the same extent that (and not one whit more than).
3. At the very same instant that (and not one second sooner than).
4. At some future unspecified time, possibly just before I take my last breath or even later such as on a Day of Judgment).
5. Inasmuch as (that is, since).
6. For it is our intent to (even if we never actually get around to).
My mother would often say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Let that sink in.
Perhaps I am overthinking this. Perhaps it is enough simply to note that immediately following the 'Amen' on that prayer in the sixth chapter of Matthew's gospel are the following words:
'For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will forgive your trespasses: But if you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive you.'
It is sobering to contemplate on a day when a great deal of so-called "mostly peaceful" but often quite violent "protest" is being predicted and even encouraged in some quarters.
Perhaps we ought to stop saying 'God bless America' so much and start praying 'God save America' instead.
P.S. - Today is (a) Flag Day, which commemorates Betsy Ross presenting George Washington with the first American flag on June 14, 1777; (b) a military parade in Washington D.C. in observance of the 250th anniversary of the U.S. Army, which the Continental Congress in Philadelphia established on June 14, 1775; and (c) the 79th birthday of President Donald J. Trump, who was born on June 14, 1946. These are apparently occasions of either pride and happiness or hate and disgust, depending on one's political views.
Saturday, June 14, 2025
Friday, June 6, 2025
Today is an important anniversary
(Editor's note. This post from the archives was originally published in 2009. --RWP)
On June 6, 1944, D-Day went forward as planned, World War II eventually ended, and names like Eisenhower and Churchill made their way into the history books.
On June 6, 1958, in the early afternoon, on the soap opera As The World Turns, Claire finally married Dr. Doug Cassen. Claire was the mother of Ellen Lowell who was a friend of Penny Hughes who...it really is too complicated to explain.
I don’t remember the former event (I was only three) but I distinctly remember the latter because at seven in the evening on the same day, my dad and stepmother were married in one of the smallest churches I ever saw (Methodist, before they merged with the Evangelical United Brethren and started calling themselves United Methodists) in one of the smallest towns I ever saw (Coppell, Texas, population approximately 600). Dad was 52. Mildred was 43. I was 17. Two weeks earlier I had graduated from high school in a town 30 miles away. Two months before that my dad and stepmother had been introduced by one of her brothers-in-law who worked at the same aircraft plant as my dad. Five months before that, on October 4, 1957, the day the Russians launched Sputnik, my mother had died after an eight-year battle against cancer.
Suddenly I was no longer an only child living with a widowed father, I was the middle one of five children. Suddenly I had two new older siblings (Bob and Ed) and two new younger siblings (Patsy and Billy). Suddenly I had a new name to avoid confusion (Bob Jr.). Suddenly I was no longer two thousand miles away from any aunt, uncle, or cousin. I had four new aunts (Cleo, Margaret, Faye, and Sue) and their husbands (Romie, Fritz, Oliver, and Jack) and five new uncles (J.D., Russ Jr., Marvin, Billy, and Freddie) and their wives (Ovaline, Dorothy, Thelma, LaWanda, and Martha) and an endless supply of new cousins (Kenneth, Janice, Jerry, Jimmy Wayne, Mike, Gary, Helen, Carol, Libby, Danny, Larry, Daisy, Ray, Brenda, Connie, Cindy, Barry, Terry, Jeff, Paula, Russ, and a few I have probably left out). And even though both of my grandmothers had died before I was born and one grandfather whom I had never met died in Iowa when I was seven and my other grandfather whom I had seen only once when I was 14 lived far away in Pennsylvania, I had a brand new set of grandparents (Russ Sr. and Virginia). And every last one of these new relatives lived nearby, and they were used to getting together often. It felt a lot like this:
...only bigger. Don’t bother clicking; it’s futile.
All of my new ready-made family absorbed my presence rather easily (what's one more among so many?) but for me it was a real culture shock at the time.
Eventually I adjusted and life went on. Sometimes my dad would call my stepmother Ruth by mistake and sometimes she would call him Clarence. My dad lived for nine years after that eventful day in June 1958. My stepmother eventually married again to a man named John and they were together for nearly thirty-five years, and I said all that to say this:
You can get used to just about anything if you put your mind to it.
Eventually I even had sisters-in-law (Linda, Judy, and Beverly) and a brother-in-law (Clyde) and lots of nieces and nephews -- Stacy, Sam, Donald Bruce, Pam, Penny (who is named, and I’m not kidding, after Penny Hughes from As the World Turns), William, and Sandra. And now there are even great-nieces and great-nephews.
But it did take some time to get used to being called Bob Jr.
The two men in the photo above are not Bob and Bob Jr., they are Winston Churchill and Dwight D. Eisenhower.
(Editor's note. Coppell, Texas, is not so tiny any more. According to the U.S. Census Bureau folks, it had about 42,000 residents in 2020. That fact will take me more time to get used to than being called Bob Jr. --RWP)
On June 6, 1944, D-Day went forward as planned, World War II eventually ended, and names like Eisenhower and Churchill made their way into the history books.
On June 6, 1958, in the early afternoon, on the soap opera As The World Turns, Claire finally married Dr. Doug Cassen. Claire was the mother of Ellen Lowell who was a friend of Penny Hughes who...it really is too complicated to explain.
I don’t remember the former event (I was only three) but I distinctly remember the latter because at seven in the evening on the same day, my dad and stepmother were married in one of the smallest churches I ever saw (Methodist, before they merged with the Evangelical United Brethren and started calling themselves United Methodists) in one of the smallest towns I ever saw (Coppell, Texas, population approximately 600). Dad was 52. Mildred was 43. I was 17. Two weeks earlier I had graduated from high school in a town 30 miles away. Two months before that my dad and stepmother had been introduced by one of her brothers-in-law who worked at the same aircraft plant as my dad. Five months before that, on October 4, 1957, the day the Russians launched Sputnik, my mother had died after an eight-year battle against cancer.
Suddenly I was no longer an only child living with a widowed father, I was the middle one of five children. Suddenly I had two new older siblings (Bob and Ed) and two new younger siblings (Patsy and Billy). Suddenly I had a new name to avoid confusion (Bob Jr.). Suddenly I was no longer two thousand miles away from any aunt, uncle, or cousin. I had four new aunts (Cleo, Margaret, Faye, and Sue) and their husbands (Romie, Fritz, Oliver, and Jack) and five new uncles (J.D., Russ Jr., Marvin, Billy, and Freddie) and their wives (Ovaline, Dorothy, Thelma, LaWanda, and Martha) and an endless supply of new cousins (Kenneth, Janice, Jerry, Jimmy Wayne, Mike, Gary, Helen, Carol, Libby, Danny, Larry, Daisy, Ray, Brenda, Connie, Cindy, Barry, Terry, Jeff, Paula, Russ, and a few I have probably left out). And even though both of my grandmothers had died before I was born and one grandfather whom I had never met died in Iowa when I was seven and my other grandfather whom I had seen only once when I was 14 lived far away in Pennsylvania, I had a brand new set of grandparents (Russ Sr. and Virginia). And every last one of these new relatives lived nearby, and they were used to getting together often. It felt a lot like this:
...only bigger. Don’t bother clicking; it’s futile. All of my new ready-made family absorbed my presence rather easily (what's one more among so many?) but for me it was a real culture shock at the time.
Eventually I adjusted and life went on. Sometimes my dad would call my stepmother Ruth by mistake and sometimes she would call him Clarence. My dad lived for nine years after that eventful day in June 1958. My stepmother eventually married again to a man named John and they were together for nearly thirty-five years, and I said all that to say this:
You can get used to just about anything if you put your mind to it.
Eventually I even had sisters-in-law (Linda, Judy, and Beverly) and a brother-in-law (Clyde) and lots of nieces and nephews -- Stacy, Sam, Donald Bruce, Pam, Penny (who is named, and I’m not kidding, after Penny Hughes from As the World Turns), William, and Sandra. And now there are even great-nieces and great-nephews.
But it did take some time to get used to being called Bob Jr.
The two men in the photo above are not Bob and Bob Jr., they are Winston Churchill and Dwight D. Eisenhower.(Editor's note. Coppell, Texas, is not so tiny any more. According to the U.S. Census Bureau folks, it had about 42,000 residents in 2020. That fact will take me more time to get used to than being called Bob Jr. --RWP)
Sunday, June 1, 2025
Sic transit gloria mundi, memento mori, and other Latin expressions
The following three sentences did not originate with me but they provide a good jumping off place (translation: inspiration) for what I want to say today:
In my 20s, I spent a lot of time wondering what other people thought about me.
In my 40s, I didn't care at all what other people thought about me.
In my 60s, I realized that other people were not thinking about me at all; they were much too busy thinking about themselves.
I want to add a fourth item to that list:
In my 80s, I have realized that most of the people I ever thought about or who might ever have thought about me are dead.
One day I will be dead too.
And so will you.
Everybody dies eventually. The mortality rate is 100%.
I hope this hasn't come as a shock to you.
Actress (or more linguistically preferred nowadays, actor) Loretta Swit (Major Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan in M*A*S*H) died this week but Margaret O'Brien is still alive.
If you don't know who Margaret O'Brien is, look it up in your Funk & Wagnalls.
Dick Martin of the comedy team Rowan and Martin used to say "look it up in your Funk & Wagnalls" on Laugh-In. Today he would probably say to google it. If you have never heard of Rowan and Martin or Laugh-In you are probably a member of Gen Z or Gen Y or Gen X or even possibly a Millennial. If so, you should stop reading the blogs of old people and find a more productive way to spend your time, preferably on something that pays well.
P.S. - Fortunately, for Christians there is the hope provided by the resurrection of Christ. Look it up in your Funk & Wagnalls.
In my 20s, I spent a lot of time wondering what other people thought about me.
In my 40s, I didn't care at all what other people thought about me.
In my 60s, I realized that other people were not thinking about me at all; they were much too busy thinking about themselves.
I want to add a fourth item to that list:
In my 80s, I have realized that most of the people I ever thought about or who might ever have thought about me are dead.
One day I will be dead too.
And so will you.
Everybody dies eventually. The mortality rate is 100%.
I hope this hasn't come as a shock to you.
Actress (or more linguistically preferred nowadays, actor) Loretta Swit (Major Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan in M*A*S*H) died this week but Margaret O'Brien is still alive.
If you don't know who Margaret O'Brien is, look it up in your Funk & Wagnalls.
Dick Martin of the comedy team Rowan and Martin used to say "look it up in your Funk & Wagnalls" on Laugh-In. Today he would probably say to google it. If you have never heard of Rowan and Martin or Laugh-In you are probably a member of Gen Z or Gen Y or Gen X or even possibly a Millennial. If so, you should stop reading the blogs of old people and find a more productive way to spend your time, preferably on something that pays well.
P.S. - Fortunately, for Christians there is the hope provided by the resurrection of Christ. Look it up in your Funk & Wagnalls.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)