They're All Crooks
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"They’re all crooks" by C. David McKirachan
"Just Business" by Keith Hewitt
They’re all crooks
by C. David McKirachan
1 Timothy 2:1-7
Two things we’re not supposed to talk about at dinner are religion and politics. We can all understand that. Everybody else is wrong about both and we don’t want to embarrass them.
I read an article about a university study using brain scans to figure out what part of the brain is used for various purposes. The center part that is focused on primitive responses such as fight, flight, or freeze, aggression, sexual activity, and addiction lights up when the subject of sports is brought up (I’m not sure if this applies to women, but I know it works for men). It makes sense. There’s not much cognitive thought involved in cheering for people trying to knock each other down. I had a barber who was a rabid New York Giants fan. He and I got along very well. But don’t let him know you cheer for the Eagles or the Cowboys. You might get a snip or a buzz where you didn’t want one. Guess which part of the brain he was using.
The interesting and slightly embarrassing part of the study is that the same part of the brain lit up when politics was brought up to the subject being monitored. Yup, you got it. No cognitive focus there. Red or Blue, conservative or Liberal subject after subject was fight or flighting, aggressing or cheering for their candidate. So much for our carefully nuanced political positions.
I don’t know about you but I’m a rather politically aware person. I pay attention to candidates, I listen to their speeches, I look over their positions and platforms so that when I vote I feel like I’m not knee jerk reacting. This study kind of took the wind out of my sails and made me deflate my rather strong attitudes about ‘them.’ You know the ones who don’t agree with my obviously correct ideas. Humility comes in all shapes and sizes. And it comes from all sorts of sources.
Periodically, someone gets elected that didn’t get my vote. I tend to be less forgiving of these individuals. It’s probably the mid brain kicking me to cheer for my team. When the Cowboys score I tend to see it as a sin. Same thing. Now I don’t think the Lord would want us to roll over and play dead when it comes to politics. I think we need to use every bit of analytical acumen we’ve got to make our votes count. But I do think we and I need to strive to be more like Christ. Sounds to me like we are caught on the horns of a dilemma.
The letter of Timothy has something to say about this. Pray for the king. I doubt this was an easy task for these early Christians who never knew what the present regime was going to do. Kings are like that. Thank the Lord for checks and balances and the Bill or Rights. But these fore fathers and mothers were called to see these people who held so much power and potential in their hands as children of God, just as the Christians were. They might be crooks. All politicians are, right? But it’s not our job to condemn them, it’s our job to be a witness to the light of Christ in this dark world. In other words, it’s our job to claw our way out of our mid brain and offer up this person that we didn’t vote for to be transformed by the compassion and love of our Lord. Just like we’ve been. So we give them to God, just like we’ve given ourselves to God.
Pray for them? Yup. Sometimes it’s not easy, but it’s our calling, to be peacemakers, to build bridges of hope and love where there was only darkness and judgement.
Consider that next time you begin calling politicians names.
And by the way ... Go Giants!
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
* * *
Just Business
by Keith Hewitt
Luke 16:1-13
“If there are no other questions, I’m open to a motion regarding the proposed investment that Howard has put in front of us.” The Trustees Chair looked down the table, catching the pastor’s eye; almost imperceptibly, her eyes flickered toward a man sitting along the right side of the table -- a guest at the meeting, who had introduced himself only as Rolf Scheuer. The Chair turned his gaze to the guest, and smiled. “Mister Scheuer, you haven’t said anything since you introduced yourself. Were you here because we were going to be considering the Asian Global Business Fund investment?”
The man -- middle aged, brown hair starting to show the first signs of frost despite a youthful face -- leaned forward in his seat and cleared his throat deferentially. “Well, yes, actually, I -- “
“Martin, it’s very unusual to have a guest -- a guest not associated with our church -- attend a Trustees meeting, unless he’s been invited,” Howard Stennis said suddenly, from his spot kitty-corner from the guest. “I don’t recall you telling us that you had invited anyone to this meeting.”
Scheuer looked perplexed for a moment, then the pastor said quietly, “Martin didn’t say anything because I invited him, Howard. Mister Scheuer was kind enough to bring some things to my attention yesterday evening, and I thought it was important for him to be here, to share them, himself. I did talk to Martin, to let him know.”
Howard frowned, but made a “whatever” motion with his hands, leaning back in his chair.
Rolf Scheuer nodded nervously to the pastor, then folded his hands on the table and said slowly, looking around the table, “I spoke to your minister last night, because I found out about your plans to invest in the Asian Global Business Fund just last week, and I wanted you to be aware of something very important.”
“With all due respect, Mister Schuller -- “ Howard rumbled.
“Scheuer, sir -- “
“ -- the Asian Global Business Fund has been fully vetted, and is a legitimate investment opportunity. An opportunity that only comes along once in a lifetime -- my personal investment strategist tells me it’s poised to make a five-fold return on our investment over the next three years. We’re not looking at some fly-by-night operation, or some Ponzi scheme. This has a very solid rating.”
“No doubt that is all true,” Scheuer said hesitantly.
“And it’s also true that by investing four thousand dollars in this fund now, we can have enough to pay for a new roof for the church sanctuary in a few years. Which we are going to need. Tar and caulk will only go so far.”
“Also probably true,” Scheuer admitted. “But there is still something you need to hear. The Asian Global Business Fund is -- “
Howard turned toward the Chair. “Martin, I’m sure our guest has a compelling story about how he was swindled on a similar investment, but we know this is a solid opportunity. I move we authorize the investment of four thousand dollars in the Asian Global Business Fund, the money to be withdrawn from our money market account which is currently earning point zero one percent return.” The last he added disdainfully, with a glare at Scheuer.
The pastor spoke quickly, almost over Howard’s last statement. “Martin, before we look for that second, we need to hear what Mister Scheuer has to say. If we don’t, I’m going to move to adjourn -- which is always in order.”
Frowning slightly, the Trustees Chair nodded again toward their guest, while Howard scowled.
“I will make this quick,” Scheuer said simply. “While there are excellent participants in the Asian Global Market Fund, you should be aware that the fund holds a major share of New China Production Industries Limited. And New China Production Industries Limited is a government corporation which produces consumer products made in slave labor facilities in China. Furniture, electronics, pet products, textiles, children’s toys -- virtually any kind of consumer product is made by NCPI, using prisoners as forced labor.”
There was a long silence that hung over the table like a cloud before Howard stirred in his chair and said, “Assuming that’s true -- “
“I can show you the reports. I can show you where to find the camp numbers stamped on the products.”
“ -- what business is it of ours? The fund owns a share of this corporation, one of hundreds of companies it invests in, and we only own a share of the fund -- one of tens of thousands of investors. We can hardly be held accountable for what corporations we invest in -- of which our investment is only a minute percentage -- do.” He spread his hands. “Besides, our own prisons use prisoners for labor.”
“And they pay them. And if they don’t work, they aren’t starved and beaten. As to the other -- if you are investing in evil, does it matter whether you are investing a little or a lot?”
There was uncertainty in most of the faces around the table when their pastor leaned in and said, “I should add that Mister Scheuer is being modest. He has a ...personal... interest in this situation.” She looked at their guest, and nodded.
“Yes --” he said quietly, “-- it is true. My grandfather was a prisoner in a Nazi slave labor camp at the end of World War II. The rest of his family had been eradicated -- either gassed, or worked to death -- in the previous two years. He was the only survivor. He came to the United States in 1947, as a refugee.”
Howard sighed. “You have our sympathy, Mister Schuemann -- “
“Scheuer,” Rolf said automatically.
“ -- but I’m not sure I see the point. You’re talking Nazis, we’re talking business.”
“And so am I. The slave labor camps in Nazi Germany were run as businesses -- actual businesses, with human beings treated like any other expendable resource. A plant manager might requisition so many tons of coal, so much steel and copper, and so many hundred or thousand laborers to replace the ones who had died, or been murdered because they could no longer work. And do you know how they kept track of that particular resource? Using punched cards and calculating machines supplied to them by businesses...businesses owned or invested in by the Americans. People who knew, in their heart of hearts, how their products were being used, how their money was being spent.”
There was another long silence, then, before Scheuer looked directly at Howard, his eyes suddenly fierce. “Mister Stennis -- can you serve two masters? Can you pretend to be a church, offering love, grace and mercy -- and at the same time invest in darkness and evil? Even if it is just a minute percentage of your investment? How badly do you need this roof, you spoke of? Is it worth selling your soul?” As he finished, he looked from face to silent face, for an answer.
Howard didn’t answer...but there was no second for his motion.
Keith Hewitt is the author of two volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). Keith's newest book NaTiVity Dramas: The Third Season will be published September 2012. He is a local pastor, co-youth leader, former Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He lives in southeastern Wisconsin with his wife, two children, and assorted dogs and cats.
*****************************************
StoryShare, September 18, 2016, issue.
Copyright 2016 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"They’re all crooks" by C. David McKirachan
"Just Business" by Keith Hewitt
They’re all crooks
by C. David McKirachan
1 Timothy 2:1-7
Two things we’re not supposed to talk about at dinner are religion and politics. We can all understand that. Everybody else is wrong about both and we don’t want to embarrass them.
I read an article about a university study using brain scans to figure out what part of the brain is used for various purposes. The center part that is focused on primitive responses such as fight, flight, or freeze, aggression, sexual activity, and addiction lights up when the subject of sports is brought up (I’m not sure if this applies to women, but I know it works for men). It makes sense. There’s not much cognitive thought involved in cheering for people trying to knock each other down. I had a barber who was a rabid New York Giants fan. He and I got along very well. But don’t let him know you cheer for the Eagles or the Cowboys. You might get a snip or a buzz where you didn’t want one. Guess which part of the brain he was using.
The interesting and slightly embarrassing part of the study is that the same part of the brain lit up when politics was brought up to the subject being monitored. Yup, you got it. No cognitive focus there. Red or Blue, conservative or Liberal subject after subject was fight or flighting, aggressing or cheering for their candidate. So much for our carefully nuanced political positions.
I don’t know about you but I’m a rather politically aware person. I pay attention to candidates, I listen to their speeches, I look over their positions and platforms so that when I vote I feel like I’m not knee jerk reacting. This study kind of took the wind out of my sails and made me deflate my rather strong attitudes about ‘them.’ You know the ones who don’t agree with my obviously correct ideas. Humility comes in all shapes and sizes. And it comes from all sorts of sources.
Periodically, someone gets elected that didn’t get my vote. I tend to be less forgiving of these individuals. It’s probably the mid brain kicking me to cheer for my team. When the Cowboys score I tend to see it as a sin. Same thing. Now I don’t think the Lord would want us to roll over and play dead when it comes to politics. I think we need to use every bit of analytical acumen we’ve got to make our votes count. But I do think we and I need to strive to be more like Christ. Sounds to me like we are caught on the horns of a dilemma.
The letter of Timothy has something to say about this. Pray for the king. I doubt this was an easy task for these early Christians who never knew what the present regime was going to do. Kings are like that. Thank the Lord for checks and balances and the Bill or Rights. But these fore fathers and mothers were called to see these people who held so much power and potential in their hands as children of God, just as the Christians were. They might be crooks. All politicians are, right? But it’s not our job to condemn them, it’s our job to be a witness to the light of Christ in this dark world. In other words, it’s our job to claw our way out of our mid brain and offer up this person that we didn’t vote for to be transformed by the compassion and love of our Lord. Just like we’ve been. So we give them to God, just like we’ve given ourselves to God.
Pray for them? Yup. Sometimes it’s not easy, but it’s our calling, to be peacemakers, to build bridges of hope and love where there was only darkness and judgement.
Consider that next time you begin calling politicians names.
And by the way ... Go Giants!
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
* * *
Just Business
by Keith Hewitt
Luke 16:1-13
“If there are no other questions, I’m open to a motion regarding the proposed investment that Howard has put in front of us.” The Trustees Chair looked down the table, catching the pastor’s eye; almost imperceptibly, her eyes flickered toward a man sitting along the right side of the table -- a guest at the meeting, who had introduced himself only as Rolf Scheuer. The Chair turned his gaze to the guest, and smiled. “Mister Scheuer, you haven’t said anything since you introduced yourself. Were you here because we were going to be considering the Asian Global Business Fund investment?”
The man -- middle aged, brown hair starting to show the first signs of frost despite a youthful face -- leaned forward in his seat and cleared his throat deferentially. “Well, yes, actually, I -- “
“Martin, it’s very unusual to have a guest -- a guest not associated with our church -- attend a Trustees meeting, unless he’s been invited,” Howard Stennis said suddenly, from his spot kitty-corner from the guest. “I don’t recall you telling us that you had invited anyone to this meeting.”
Scheuer looked perplexed for a moment, then the pastor said quietly, “Martin didn’t say anything because I invited him, Howard. Mister Scheuer was kind enough to bring some things to my attention yesterday evening, and I thought it was important for him to be here, to share them, himself. I did talk to Martin, to let him know.”
Howard frowned, but made a “whatever” motion with his hands, leaning back in his chair.
Rolf Scheuer nodded nervously to the pastor, then folded his hands on the table and said slowly, looking around the table, “I spoke to your minister last night, because I found out about your plans to invest in the Asian Global Business Fund just last week, and I wanted you to be aware of something very important.”
“With all due respect, Mister Schuller -- “ Howard rumbled.
“Scheuer, sir -- “
“ -- the Asian Global Business Fund has been fully vetted, and is a legitimate investment opportunity. An opportunity that only comes along once in a lifetime -- my personal investment strategist tells me it’s poised to make a five-fold return on our investment over the next three years. We’re not looking at some fly-by-night operation, or some Ponzi scheme. This has a very solid rating.”
“No doubt that is all true,” Scheuer said hesitantly.
“And it’s also true that by investing four thousand dollars in this fund now, we can have enough to pay for a new roof for the church sanctuary in a few years. Which we are going to need. Tar and caulk will only go so far.”
“Also probably true,” Scheuer admitted. “But there is still something you need to hear. The Asian Global Business Fund is -- “
Howard turned toward the Chair. “Martin, I’m sure our guest has a compelling story about how he was swindled on a similar investment, but we know this is a solid opportunity. I move we authorize the investment of four thousand dollars in the Asian Global Business Fund, the money to be withdrawn from our money market account which is currently earning point zero one percent return.” The last he added disdainfully, with a glare at Scheuer.
The pastor spoke quickly, almost over Howard’s last statement. “Martin, before we look for that second, we need to hear what Mister Scheuer has to say. If we don’t, I’m going to move to adjourn -- which is always in order.”
Frowning slightly, the Trustees Chair nodded again toward their guest, while Howard scowled.
“I will make this quick,” Scheuer said simply. “While there are excellent participants in the Asian Global Market Fund, you should be aware that the fund holds a major share of New China Production Industries Limited. And New China Production Industries Limited is a government corporation which produces consumer products made in slave labor facilities in China. Furniture, electronics, pet products, textiles, children’s toys -- virtually any kind of consumer product is made by NCPI, using prisoners as forced labor.”
There was a long silence that hung over the table like a cloud before Howard stirred in his chair and said, “Assuming that’s true -- “
“I can show you the reports. I can show you where to find the camp numbers stamped on the products.”
“ -- what business is it of ours? The fund owns a share of this corporation, one of hundreds of companies it invests in, and we only own a share of the fund -- one of tens of thousands of investors. We can hardly be held accountable for what corporations we invest in -- of which our investment is only a minute percentage -- do.” He spread his hands. “Besides, our own prisons use prisoners for labor.”
“And they pay them. And if they don’t work, they aren’t starved and beaten. As to the other -- if you are investing in evil, does it matter whether you are investing a little or a lot?”
There was uncertainty in most of the faces around the table when their pastor leaned in and said, “I should add that Mister Scheuer is being modest. He has a ...personal... interest in this situation.” She looked at their guest, and nodded.
“Yes --” he said quietly, “-- it is true. My grandfather was a prisoner in a Nazi slave labor camp at the end of World War II. The rest of his family had been eradicated -- either gassed, or worked to death -- in the previous two years. He was the only survivor. He came to the United States in 1947, as a refugee.”
Howard sighed. “You have our sympathy, Mister Schuemann -- “
“Scheuer,” Rolf said automatically.
“ -- but I’m not sure I see the point. You’re talking Nazis, we’re talking business.”
“And so am I. The slave labor camps in Nazi Germany were run as businesses -- actual businesses, with human beings treated like any other expendable resource. A plant manager might requisition so many tons of coal, so much steel and copper, and so many hundred or thousand laborers to replace the ones who had died, or been murdered because they could no longer work. And do you know how they kept track of that particular resource? Using punched cards and calculating machines supplied to them by businesses...businesses owned or invested in by the Americans. People who knew, in their heart of hearts, how their products were being used, how their money was being spent.”
There was another long silence, then, before Scheuer looked directly at Howard, his eyes suddenly fierce. “Mister Stennis -- can you serve two masters? Can you pretend to be a church, offering love, grace and mercy -- and at the same time invest in darkness and evil? Even if it is just a minute percentage of your investment? How badly do you need this roof, you spoke of? Is it worth selling your soul?” As he finished, he looked from face to silent face, for an answer.
Howard didn’t answer...but there was no second for his motion.
Keith Hewitt is the author of two volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). Keith's newest book NaTiVity Dramas: The Third Season will be published September 2012. He is a local pastor, co-youth leader, former Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He lives in southeastern Wisconsin with his wife, two children, and assorted dogs and cats.
*****************************************
StoryShare, September 18, 2016, issue.
Copyright 2016 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
