A matter of death or life

When we think about the economic downturn, most of us probably think in terms of job security, whether we can pay the bills, the effect on our savings for retirement, and the rapidly rising national debt. But until yesterday I had given little thought to its effect on the criminal justice system.

USA Today reports that several states have been considering abolishing the death penalty, primarily as a means to save money. Some proponents of the death penalty are quick to point out (see readers’ comments on this article) how much less it would cost to execute criminals right away than to keep them in prison for years or even decades. But it is the appeals process that costs so much money, and the recent examples of people exonerated based on DNA evidence show that the initial verdict is certainly not always right.

I remember when I first heard of the death penalty. I was in the living room, near the console radio, and I saw a headline about it. I don’t know if it was in 1972 when the Supreme Court invalidated death penalty statutes in 40 states, or in the following years as some states rewrote their laws, approved by the Supreme Court in 1976. I do remember that I was horrified at the thought.

Movies: Casper

I hadn’t watch this movie in several years – probably not since our older son was about the age our younger son is now. So it had been long enough I thought it would be fun to see again (back then we had watched it – like so many of the children’s videos – so many times I got tired of them), and have our younger son get to see it with me. Since we couldn’t find our copy, I checked on out from the library.

Of course, neither of the boys has ever seen the Casper the Friendly Ghost comic books I enjoyed as a girl. Or the ones featuring his friend, Wendy the Good Little Witch. I can’t remember anything much about them myself, just that I liked them. And when the Casper movie came out in 1995, I remembered those comic books with nostalgia and thought the movie would be at least somewhat like them.

It isn’t. Other than Casper being a ghost who wants to make friends but scares children he’s trying to make friends with. But it’s a fun movie, with a few serious moments reflecting on the importance of relationships and love.

Goodbye, Duke

Duke, 199? – 2008

He was the calm, quiet dog at my friend’s house who seemed to me much older than what they guessed to be his age of four years. (They hadn’t had him as a puppy; as best as they and the vet could tell, he had probably been abused by at least one previous owner.) He didn’t have the exuberant puppy energy that our black lab had had, nor the tendency to try to nibble at me (not to mention chewing on furniture and shoes) that the collie/Sheltie mix had.

When she found out we were ready to get another dog, my friend offered Duke to us. Apparently he had never been comfortable with her (speculation was that her voice might have been too similar to his first, abusive owner), and they were ready to get a hunting dog. I wondered how easily he would adjust to a new home, but it only took a few hours before he stopped looking out the window for her to come back and took to following me everywhere.

He was hardly the couch potato I had thought he was. When I took him for walks, he was eager to run. We compromised at a jog that I could handle (for a few blocks, at least) and that kept him from stopping at every mailbox. Occasionally when someone didn’t close a door quickly enough he managed to get loose and run on his own, but fortunately he stopped at so many mailboxes and trees that we caught up with him within a half mile or so and could lead him home.

Meditation: Psalm 90:9-10

All our days pass away under your wrath;
we finish our years with a moan.
The length of our days is seventy years-
or eighty, if we have the strength;
yet their span is but trouble and sorrow,
for they quickly pass, and we fly away.

I finally tackled thinking about and memorizing these verses last night, and was reminded why I had put them off before. They simply do not match my own experience of life or that of most people I know. So it is difficult to think in terms of how to understand God speaking to me through them.

I can understand why Moses might write such words. For forty years he had to lead the Israelites through the wilderness, although a direct route to the Promised Land would have been short enough, because God had determined that those who had refused to trust Him would die without reaching the land He had promised to their children. Over and over God sent terrible judgments on disobedient people, and Moses watched the people live and die under God’s wrath.

Does scarcity produce gratitude?

Not long ago, on WorldontheWeb, there was a post saying that poor people tend to be more grateful for what they have than rich people are. It seemed self-evident to many people, but when others challenged the idea, I was forced to think about whether, or to what extent, it was true.

Poverty is certainly no guarantee of a thankful heart, any more than riches prevent gratitude from flourishing. Yet our common human experience does seem to teach that one is more likely to appreciate what is scarce rather than what is plentiful.

As I walk about my daily activities, I occasionally remember to be grateful for the wonderful blessing of legs that work. Back in the fall of 1984, after weeks of struggling to get around on crutches, I found it marvelous to simply be able to walk normally again. Now I have to make an effort to appreciate that ability.

A new use for Pringles cans

It’s interesting to learn of people’s preferences for what is to be done with their remains when they die. I suppose it says something about what is important to them. I had a boss once who was so in love with 1957 Chevy’s that he said he would like to be buried in one. My mother would have liked to have her ashes sprinkled on icy sidewalks (as sand is used, to provide traction), but my father nixed that idea.

Fredric Baur, the designer of the method of packaging curved, stacked potato crisps and their distinctive Pringles can, requested to have some of his remains buried in one of those cans. He died four weeks ago, at age 89, and his children honored his request.

I’m not sure what it says about me, but I can’t say I really care what is done with my remains – though for my family’s sake I would prefer it be fairly inexpensive.

The dangers of driving

Unlike most of my friends in high school, I never wanted to learn to drive. I had been in more (mostly minor) accidents than I could remember, mostly with my father at the wheel. Getting around town was scary enough. Trying to drive on the highway seemed like trying to steer a speeding bullet. And I hated the thought that I might ever be the bullet that ended someone else’s life.

One day when I was young, we were exploring our grandfather’s attic and found a board game that was about driving. Each player had a car, and progressed around the board, occasionally having to lose a turn or go back a few spaces due to traffic violations such as “too much weaving” or being stopped for speeding. But the very worst spot on the board was FATAL ACCIDENT, and the consequence was returning all the way to the beginning. I dreaded that spot, not so much because it would most likely result in losing the game, as because the thought of causing another person’s death was too horrifying to deal with. I never wanted to play the game again.

What to do with the body

I had given little thought to the idea of cremation until my parents chose that option for their remains. I discovered that the idea did not particularly bother me, and I actually sort of like the fact that I know what their buried “cremains” look like, rather than wondering what is happening to their decomposing bodies year by year.

There have been occasional arguments, over on World on the Web, as to whether cremation is an appropriate option for Christians. Opponents say that it shows disrespect for the body, which is God’s good creation, and that our belief in the resurrection of the body should cause us to avoid doing anything to deliberately destroy it, even after death.

Meditation: Psalm 90:7

We are consumed by your anger
   And terrified by your indignation.

I had put off tackling this verse, partly because I was trying to finish memorizing the first six verses of the psalm, but also because I had trouble knowing what to do with this one. I was brought up to have a reverential fear of God, but I have rarely felt terrified by thoughts of God’s judgment (and those times it was because I constantly doubted my salvation but couldn’t figure out how to believe in some better, truer way than I had already). I also don’t identify with a sense of being “consumed” by God’s anger.

Today being Saturday of Holy Week, however, it seemed a good time to tackle this verse. (And I think I finally have verse 6 nearly down by heart.) Yesterday we remembered Jesus’ tortured death on the Cross. Tomorrow will be time for rejoicing in the triumph of the Resurrection. But today is still a time to remember death, the tomb, and God’s judgment.

Learning from a garden

This morning in the middle of church, my 8-year-old leaned over and asked me, “Do you think my garden is OK?” I was taken aback by this question, as the garden had been covered by snow most of the winter, and it hadn’t occurred to me that he hadn’t realized that it had long been dead. I gently explained this, and assured him we would be able to plant it again in a couple months.

I have to admit I had given little thought to his garden once fall came and it had failed to produce any zucchini, let alone the excess to push on neighbors and friends that I associate with that particular garden vegetable. The marigolds planted as rabbit repellent bloomed just fine, but I wasn’t about to try eating them. And the one carrot I tried, a midget of a dwarf carrot at about one inch long, was so bitter I couldn’t finish even that tiny morsel. I was quite ready to forget about the plot behind the garage until warm weather returned.