In the daily lectionary for today, from Evangelical Lutheran Worship, the psalm is Psalm 28. It is the cry of one who considers himself to have been wronged, and who is looking to God to give judgment in his favor.

To you, O Lord, I call;
my rock, do not refuse to hear me,
for if you are silent to me,
I shall be like those who go down to the Pit....

Repay them according to their work,
and according to the evil of their deeds;
repay them according to the work of their hands;
render them their due reward.

It is interesting to read this Psalm after reading the coverage of the bailout plan Congress has formulated for the financial sector of our economy. One of the sticking points is how to punish those responsible for the mess, i.e., the top executives who should have provided sound financial and (I would submit, moral) leadership.

At the root of the financial crisis, of course, is sin. The sin of commission is the sin of personal greed. The sin of omission has been ignoring the needs of the community of investors in the companies that are in trouble.

I hasten to say that I'm obviously not smart enough to comment intelligently on all of this. Heck, I'm not even smart enough to understand why so many billions of dollars were loaned to people who did not have the ability to pay the loans back! I'm also not smart enough to understand why the penalties on top executive pay are so weak. According to the New York Times, here's the penalty: "the government would limit the tax deductibility of executive pay to $500,000." Five hundred thousand dollars?! (Of course, the corporate leaders responsible for the mess would receive many times more than $500,000 in annual compensation.)

If I was smart enough to understand any of this, here's what I would suggest. I would suggest that the top executives at the firms which made the loans to people who do not have the ability to pay the loans back would be limited to the salaries of public school teachers who have equivalent seniority in their professions. Or fire fighters and police officers. Or members of the military. Or (dare I say it?) of ELCA pastors. It would still allow them a comfortable life, with health insurance and a pension, and a modest house of a couple thousand square feet, and a couple of mid-priced Toyotas. And the investment firms would then be able to refund millions of dollars earmarked for executive compensation to the government, towards the $700 billion cost of the bailout that will soon become the responsibility of those making the salaries of school teachers and fire fighters and police officers and military members and ELCA pastors.

Of course, the lingering challenge for the years ahead will be this: How can the many be protected from the sinful greed of the few?

I got out on my road bike today for a 16 mile ride. Two weeks ago I rode the Surry Century. (A century is 100 miles in one day. See odometer reading at the bottom of the handlebar computer screen, below. Sorry about the poor focus!)



Before today, I hadn't been on the road bike for two weeks. I just needed a break! I did commute several times the week before last, but this past week I didn't do any riding at all because I was away for a conference. Today I sure did feel that two week lay-off! And it was good to see the odometer click past 1,800 miles ridden for the year, on my road bike. Adding the miles I've ridden on my commuting bike, I'm well over 2,000 miles for the year.

This past Monday night I was touring the new building of the Mid-County High School in Newberry County, SC. In the principal's office, I noticed an arrangement of three pictures -- of the principal finishing the swimming, the cycling, and the running portions of a triathlon. I said to her, "I'm impressed to see that you're a tri-athlete! I rode my bicycle a hundred miles a week ago Saturday, but I've always thought tri-athletes are kind of crazy." She said, "Well, I've always thought people who ride centuries are kind of crazy! I've only ridden a metric." (Translation: a metric century -- 100 kilometers, 62 miles.)

I was in Newberry County, SC because I was staying with my Uncle Bob and his wife, Marcia, and that Monday night was the Ruritan Club meeting, and, after a dinner of barbeque and hash and cole slaw and sweettea (one word!), the program was to tour the high school.

I had spent Monday at the Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary, for a wrap-up meeting of 2007-2008 Synod Discernment Advocates for an initiative called Project Connect. The purpose of Project Connect is to engage young adults, aged 18-30 in conversation about what work the Spirit might be calling them to do, and to encourage and nurture those who might be called to become pastors and Associates in Ministry and Deaconesses and Diaconal workers in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Discernment Advocates do this work in their particular Synods. (One statistic illustrates how crucial this work is: each year, 500 ELCA pastors are retiring, but our seminaries are only graduating 300 new pastors!)

Then, I spent Tuesday through yesterday in Atlanta, because I had been asked to help orient the 2008-2009 Synod Discernment Advocates. In addition to the orientation event, a highlight of those days was the few hours we took to tour the Martin Luther King Jr. Center For Nonviolent Social Change. A major disappointment was that the holy ground of historic Ebeneezer Baptist Church was closed, because they are renovating the chancel to be as it was in the years 1960-1968, when King preached there. So, I have to go back when that's finished.

Nevertheless, the museum itself was very moving, with its historical displays. And I'll tell you, it's an experience to work with Discernment Advocate pastors who are in their 20s and 30s. The civil rights movement is long-ago history to those who were born years later. They would look at the displays, and then ask me about them, considering me to be a wise (old) man.

At one point I realized that, when the current Admissions Director of Southern Seminary was born, my son, Nathan, was two years old!

But it was not just an experience of feeling old. It was also an opportunity to be in on a view of what the future will include. For instance, consider these comments about one current controversy in the church. "Those in their 20s and 30s don't see what the problem is with homosexuality. Twenty and 30-year olds by and large think the way people are is the way God created them." And, "What worries me is how many young adults we'll lose from the church if we don't become more open to gays and lesbians."

Today's must-read newspaper article comes from the Daily Press, of all places. It's on the front page of the sports section: a profile of Melissa Shelton, who is the volleyball coach at William and Mary. It's her first year at the college, where she starred as a volleyball player when she was an undergraduate. For the past 18 years she was head coach at the University of Virginia, compiling a 235-179 record with two NCAA berths.

Why would Shelton leave a big-time program, with big-time resources, to come to a "lower" level of athletic competition? In the article, she is quoted: "I believe that colleges should recruit kids that fit in well with the whole university, not just the athletic department. It's important to me to have kids that will be happy outside the volleyball world, at the college. Those are things that are important to me, and one of the reasons I made the change is that it was getting harder and harder to do at my previous shcool, because there was such an emphasis on winning."

Shelton adds: "Our goal is to be top dog in the CAA, and I think we can do that and still provide an experience where volleyball doesn't completely dominate the college life of our student-athletes.

"It's a fine line -- you have to find it -- where volleyball is a priority right underneath academics. But at the same time the kids aren't so wrapped up and only live with athletes or they only hang out with athletes or all they ever do is athletics. I want them to do other things."

Shelton wanted to coach at a school where athletes are expected to go to class for larger purpose than simply to maintain their eligibility. A counter-cultural career move, in our culture that worships sports, and particularly idolizes those who win!

Amidst all of the emotional vilification and praise of Sarah Palin, David Brooks has written the most thoughtful words on the subject that I've read, in his column this morning in the New York Times.

In the course of the column, Brooks describes a classical conservatism that was formative to me in my political philosophy, and in which I read much. After listing conservative commentators who are unimpressed by Palin, Brooks writes,

"...This argument also is over what qualities the country needs in a leader and what are the ultimate sources of wisdom.

"There was a time when conservatives did not argue about this. Conservatism was once a frankly elitist movement. Conservatives stood against radical egalitarianism and the destruction of rigorous standards. They stood up for classical education, hard-earned knowledge, experience and prudence. Wisdom was acquired through immersion in the best that has been thought and said."

Brooks describes the standards by which I judge theological writing, of which I read a great deal. They are also the standards by which I provide leadership of a congregation and judge the direction of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. (I say that, even with the realization that I am an elitist, if Brooks is correct!)

Or course, it has been years and years since the Republican party nominated a national candidate described by Brooks' words.

In Virginia, I wonder if those words describe two Democrats: Senator Jim Webb and Senator-to-be Mark Warner??

To read Brooks' entire column, paste this into your browser line: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/16/opinion/16brooks.html?_r=1&ref=opinion&oref=slogin

Well, it worked! I just put water in the bird bath. So, of course, less than a minute after coming back into the house, it started raining! Hallelujah. Could it be that we'll get a day of soaking rain?

When it's dry, more birds visit the bird bath in our backyard. I enjoy watching the goldfinches, who suddenly dive down at a 70 degree angle, as if the bird bath is a target, darting to a landing. Then, after they've sipped a few times, off they go in a flash, on an uneven flight, gaining and losing 10 feet of altitude at a time. The doves are much different: fat, wide-bodied. You can almost hear the "plop" when they land on the lip of the bird bath. They stay longer. Are they needing to rest? Finally, when they take off, it's such an effort to get airborne that they let out a "cheep" of exertion!

Did Barack Obama call Sarah Palin a pig? That's the question causing the latest sensation in the presidential campaign.

Obama criticized McCain talk of reforming government by saying, "You can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig." That set off a furor among Republicans because, of course, during her convention acceptance speech, Sarah Palin said, "You know what is the difference between a pit bull and a hockey mom? Lipstick."

(The whole pit bull image, admiringly used, is the latest illustration of how radical the true Christian life is, as modeled by Jesus: of radical love, compassion and forgiveness. But that's another subject.)

You want irony? It turns out that, just about exactly one year ago, when John McCain was criticizing Hillary Clinton's health care plan, he said this: "You can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig."

Was McCain calling Clinton a pig? (She wears lipstick, I've noticed.)

Anyway, within 24 hours of Obama using the "lipstick on a pig" expression, the Republicans had produced and put a political advertisement on the air, to be sure the controversy would grow. Democrats, of course, retaliated with their own extreme retorts.

But here's the thing in all of this: it seems to me that there are some really, really, really important things that the candidates should be talking about in this campaign.

Lipstick is not one of them.

It's all very distressing.

My good wife said, "Good grief. I've decided who I'm going to vote for. I don't think I'll pay any more attention."

Sounds like a good model to follow.

So far it's been rain, intermittent, sometimes heavy.

The 40-something mile bicycle ride Reed and Karen Nester were scheduled to lead for the Williamsburg Area Bicyclists won't happen. I kind of thought that would be true, so I went out for about 40 miles myself yesterday. Next Saturday is the annual 100-mile "Surrey Century" ride. Hope the weater is decent for that!

Our son and daughter-in-law, Nathan and Renee, are up in the big city this weekend, visiting our daughter and son-in-law, Emily and Sheldon. The timing of the visit was determined by the fact that the Phillies are scheduled to play the Mets this afternoon at Shea Stadium. Will storm move slowly, so that the rain will hold off so the game can be played? Nathan has had tickets for weeks and weeks!

Wind is promised for later on today, and that usually means a power outage because our neighborhood is so heavily wooded. I've been sitting out on the screened porch, thinking about the days following Hurricane Isabel, which was actually a tropical storm by the time it blew through Williamsburg five years ago. Unrelated rain systems had come through, bringing heavy rains for days before Isabel arrived, and since the ground was thoroughly soaked, Isabel's wind blew down thousands of trees, many taking down power lines. We were without power for eight days at home, and for six days at the church.

We only lost two trees at home, and both of them fell away from the house, so I didn't have any crises to deal with on the home front. For me, personally, the lack of power meant that life slowed down in a wonderful way. My days were spent as if I were a pastor before electrification, and before the invention of the telephone. (We lost phone service at home, and the phone system at the church is powered by electricity.) Also: no e-mail!

I spent mornings reading, with light coming in the large windows in my church office, and enjoyed talking with anyone who happened to come in. Afternoons were spent visiting. I mostly visited those who lived in heavily wooded neighborhoods, who might have suffered house damage by falling trees. Since I didn't have a phone, I couldn't call ahead. But I could count on folks being home, because offices were without power, and agencies relying on our volunteers closed down. (Our folks are so busy -- those who work for pay as well as those who are retired -- that I'm used to having to call and compare calendars and setting up appointments to visit days in advance!) Since there was no power, evening meetings were cancelled. When it got dark, it was time for bed. In the days after Isabel, I had a taste of what it may have been like for the village parson, mythically remembered.

At one time in my life, I would have felt great frustration over the inconvenience of losing modern technology, and the canceled meetings and projects. I'm better able, now, to enjoy the disruption of the routine, and to receive the gift of each day as it comes. There is much that I prefer about the way I spent those days for that week or so following Isabel!

Ah, the promised rain has begun. Hooray! Of course, I hope the storm is not fierce over the next couple of days. But we sure do need a soaking rain. We had a wet, lush spring. The gardens and lawn looked like something out of Southern Living when Emily and Sheldon were married on May 25. Since then, we've had little if any rain.

The one good thing about the drought we've been suffering this summer is that I haven't had to mow my grass since I got home from Tanzania in June. I hate to use a lawn mower. One reason is that the four most angry times in my life were all attempts to start a gasoline powered mower that refused to start the first 17 or 18 times I pulled the rope. The other reason is because a lawn mower is such a heavy polluter. (As a St. Stephen Earthkeeper, I pray forgiveness each time I cut my grass.)

A gasoline powered lawn mower spews the same amount of pollution into the air as 10 cars driven for the same amount of time! So, by the time I've finished cutting my grass, I've polluted the air as much as 10 cars driving to Richmond.

Did you see the little piece in this morning's paper, that lawn mower engines will be required to produce 35% fewer pollutants by 2011? Well, it's something. It's a shame that it takes three years of lead time before such a change can be implemented. With the new standards, if I get a new lawn mower, then I'll only pollute the air as much as 6.5 cars driving to Richmond.

Almost. Almost. Almost!

Dr. Flenner called me today, and the histoplasmosis antigen in my body is almost to zero. He said that the reading is "less than 0.6" For perspective: When I was diagnosed, in the ICU 22 months ago, the reading was 57. When I was discharged a month later, after intensive IV therapy, the level had dropped about 30 points. Since then, taking oral medication, the progress has been slower. A year ago it was at 7.5 Eight months ago it was 5.5 Four months ago it was 2.5 Patty said, "I guess you could have spent a couple weeks of your sabbatical in the hospital, getting IVs, and that might have knocked it out." I said, "Yeah, that would have been lots of fun."

When I saw him last week, Dr. Flenner talked about reducing the dosage of my medication, or of prescribing it for me in pill form, rather than as the liquid I take now. But that was wishful thinking. He would have done that had my reading this time been zero. (Before he takes me off the medication entirely he said, "You were so sick; I'll have to see two consecutive readings of zero.")

Sigh ... I see Dr. Flenner again in late November. Let's pray it's down to zero!

OK. I'm going to return to the TV set to watch the Republican National Convention. This whole campaign is such great theater! The two Vice Presidential candidates only add to that. On the one side, you never know what's going to come out of Joe Biden's mouth! I don't think he's ever had a thought that has gone unspoken. And Sarah Palin and her family members are like characters in a Bruce Springsteen song. It'll be a very, very interesting next couple of months.