Inauguration Day

I went back to Iowa about three weeks ago for my/our annual trip to the Drake Relays. We stayed with my mom, who lives in suburban Des Moines. She and her husband have a nice house in a nice neighborhood with a nice, fenced-in yard. I was out in the yard one night with our kids playing kickball and they were having a great time. Our dog was happily off in the corner of the yard, panting, observing, and clearly quite content. It was a scene that reminded me of why people choose live in the suburbs. Anne said later that, as she watched the kids playing in the back, she missed having a yard so much that it hurt. I felt the same way. During moments like these, of course, I ask myself, why again did we move into the city? I know, I know, it's the church thing, but still...

Monday was a day that reminded me of why we live in the city, specifically, why we live in Chicago. It was Mayor Emanuel's inauguration at Pritzker Pavilion and I'm a sucker for events like this. There were an estimated 7,500 people there with a lot of notable attendees: Vice President Biden; both U.S. Senators

from Illinois; numerous U.S. Reps; Pat Quinn, the Illinois governor; and others. The Chicago Children's Choir sang, there were elected officials being sworn in, a high-school student read a poem she wrote, and Mayor Emanuel, if course, gave his inaugural address. It was a chilly day in the 40s, but, I swear, when we stood there with the sun shining, the weather could not have been more perfect.

Events like these instill civic pride in me. There are lots of reasons to be cynical about them (and, indeed, one live blog was serving the cynicism deep-dish style). I'm sure there are more than a few aldermen who took their oaths of office who have some serious ethical issues. The praise of Mayor Daley (who, of course, was also there) was getting to be over the top. Emanuel has his issues, too (I didn't vote for him). But as I stood there, I couldn't fight the feeling (nor did I want to) of being hopeful and connected to all the people around me. I committed to praying for new mayor. I recommitted Urban Village's efforts to combating hunger in the city. I vowed to look for ways to do something rather than just give up or believe that nothing I do will make a difference.

Call me Pollyanna if you must, but I'll wear that label with pride.

140 Characters

Is it possible to summarize the death of Osama bin Laden in 140 characters? Many people have tried in the last couple of days, some more successful than others. One article I found interesting highlighted research done byOpenBible.info's Stephen Smith in which he cataloged the top tweeted Bible verses 12 hours after the announcement of bin Laden's death. It's quite a list and includes Rick Warren's choice from Proverbs: "When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous but terror to evildoers" (this was #3). The number one verse, however, was also from Proverbs and gives a different take: "Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when they stumble, do not let your heart rejoice." The first verse is from Proverbs 21, the second from Proverbs 24. These passages encapsulate my own emotions as I watched Sunday night. Relief and--maybe if I'm honest with myself--joy at first, but those emotions eventually turned to deeper reflections on the biblical nature of justice and how we define and respond to our own "enemies." I mentioned a few weeks ago that I'm in the midst of reading a psalm a day and so far (I'm through 38) almost every psalm makes some sort of mention of having enemies and many express a desire for these enemies to perish. That's a very human desire, one that the psalms express nakedly. Of course, followers of Jesus also trip up over his command for us to love our enemies. Does that command have limits? Do we need to expand or redefine "love"? I wrestle with all these questions and emotions and wonder what the "proper" way to respond is. And I find myself realizing that 140 characters are probably too many. Instead, I go before God, not saying a word, and listen for wisdom and peace.