Lent

 We are about to once again enter the season of Lent. My memories of observing Lent while growing up are very strong. We had worship services every Friday night during Lent. They were always in German. A key feature of every Friday night service was a reading of the events in the life of Jesus beginning with His instituting The Lord’s Supper up to Christ’s death on the cross. The reading of a segment of this each week from a harmony of the Gospels lies deep in my heart. The sermons preached at those services always related specifically to the events we had had just heard read. I remember especially one series related to questions asked during those fateful 24 hours and at my suggestion this year at my church we are following that pattern for our weekly Sunday Bible classes during Lent.) Once we started having Lenten services in English it seemed to be mandatory that we sing “Go To Dark Gethsemane “ every week.

Lent culminated in Holy week. There was always the ritual of youth “confirmation” on Palm Sunday and first Holy Communion on Maunday Thursday. As the years have passed so have the rituals related to Lent. I always regret that I never made it to New Orleans to observe Mardi Gras, specially also the revelry related to the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday.

At my current church the formal observation of Lent is quite different. We begin with some version of Shrove Tuesday observed by eating pancakes on Pancake Tuesday. We then have the deeply reflective practice of “imposition of ashes” on Ash Wednesday. However at the weekly services we do not focus specifically on the last days of the suffering Christ and I miss that. To indicate how different our rituals of today are from some 90 years ago I mention that to begin Lent at my church this year we are all watching the movie “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood”. At our weekly events we will reflect upon lessons learned from Mr. Rogers. Of course we will read some scriptures and have reflections and it will be a very different experience. If we tried to repeat what we did in my youth I suspect that the only two people who would show up would be my wife and I.

So I look forward to this Lenten season. I no longer “give up” something for lent. Jane and I do read special Lenten reflections and prayers in our morning devotions at hiome and this year will use resources provided by Bread for the World. I know we will not be singing “Go to Dark Gethsemane”. I am determined to remember the past, be open to the present, and look forward to the future. Thus Lent will become for me a time to repent, reflect and recommit.

Arithmetic

Of course, we were taught arithmetic already in the first grade at Zion Lutheran School in Walburg, Texas. It was all pretty straight adding, subtracting and multiplying. We were taught the processes but none of the” theory”. I make the sad confession that I had no idea of the decimal system with its ones, ten and hundreds. I am embarrassed to say that when I did a year as a “supply teacher” of grades one to four I told the students to ignore all that stuff about ones and tens. When a bright student even asked me about it I told her to just forget about all that. It was only when I later took a course on Teaching Math that I caught on to that primary (even kindergarten) concept. 

I was spared learning much about math throughout my education. I took one course in algebra. I have no idea how I made it through high school and college without ever taking geometry, trig, or calculus. When I got to graduate school at the University of Pacific I was fortunate to have an outstanding professor of statistics. He was a genius at making complex math concepts understandable. He even had me do correlation coefficient numbers relating to exams I gave to my students in elementary school. And then he served on my thesis exam committee and I looked good because of all that he had taught me.

By coincidence I just yesterday listened to a fascinating NPR program on math and numbers. The speaker urged us to think of the importance of numbers in our everyday life. He directed us to reflect on what it would be like if we did not numbers to identify our age, phone number, mailing address, money, car speed, etc. etc. So I am grateful for all who really “get’ numbers and for all who have gone before me and put into place number systems which make life possible and more enjoyable.

Writing

Writing has been an important part of my life, both personally and professionally. As I reflect upon the training I received to be a writer the first thing that hits me is how this was taught me, especially in elementary and high school. Three components were stressed very early: penmanship, spelling and grammar.

Penmanship was a special subject and each week a period was set aside during which we were supposed to learn “the Palmer Method”. We had very specific instructions on how to hold our pencils and how to move our wrists. It was all wasted on me. My penmanship was and is very poor. This was in contrast to my Mother who had beautiful handwriting. She went only to the 6th grade yet her letters to me were always in beautiful handwriting. When I later tried to write Chinese characters I found that my handwriting in Chinese was even worse than in English or German. 

Spelling was also a separate subject all the way through to the eighth grade. Each week we had a list of words to learn to spell. The teacher called out the words and we had to write them out, hopefully with the correct spelling. I did okay in the class exercise, but when I (up to this day) write in paragraphs my spelling always needs lots of corrections.

Grammar was very important. Early on we had to learn the parts of speech and proper rules of grammar. Already at the 4th grade level we had to diagram sentences. This was a method of charting subjects, predicates, direct and indirect objects, adjectival and adverbial clauses, prepositional phrases etc. etc. I always enjoyed it up to the time in Zion Lutheran School when we were challenged to diagram the longest sentence with which we were familiar. That was Martin Luther’s 17-word explanation of the Second Article (about Jesus). 

Writing essays, compositions, narratives or poetry was simply not stressed at any level of my schooling. In grad school the emphasis went to documentation and bibliographical notations. My master’s thesis was written well before computers and my wife Jane who did the typing on an old non-electric typewriter reminds me that no erasures or corrections were allowed and foot-noting sources was a major challenge.

Most of my professional career gave me the opportunity and responsibility to write material for publication. I wrote devotional, educational, and motivational materials. As I recall publishing more than 200 articles, two books and hundreds of blogs I am grateful for the lessons learned in handwriting, spelling and grammar that sent me on the road to writing.

Reading

Reading has always been and continues to be very important to me. In a way this is surprising. I do not recall even one children’s book in my home as I was growing up. We were too poor to purchase them. I do not recall my father being a reader. Mother read to me-but only Bible stories. The elementary school I attended had no library. When I was in the 7t grade by some miracle Zion Lutheran School suddenly acquired some 70 books. Each was a 32-page condensation of a classic. Within three weeks of their arrival I had read them all.

I recall very clearly learning to read in the first grade. We used the famous series which featured The Gingerbread Man. I vividly recall those first few pages which read “I am a gingerbread man. I am, I am.” Then “I can run from you. I can, I can”. This was the basis of a long chart teaching us phonics. The top word was “man”. Underneath it (one word to each row) were words that sounded with a different  first letter e.g. can, fan, ran, tan, van. Phonics was drilled into us and it served me well.   

High school English emphasized grammar and not much literature, though we did have some assignment of novels. In college I became a voracious reader which I have continued to be throughout my life. It was through my reading, for example, that I found a spiritual and religious world of opinion far broader and challenging than what was taught in the very narrow prescribed texts of our Lutheran theological courses. Especially helpful in my years in Hong Kong the Monday night discussion session with fellow missionaries every Friday night. Most of us gathered with our colleagues and spouses. We spent an hour in Bible study and then another hour discussing a different book we had all read the previous seven days. Even though I was working some 60 hours each week I made it a point to read those books and then be challenged to reflect more deeply upon contents when we discussed them in the group.

I have now lived in retirement for more than 27 years and one of the great blessings of that is the opportunity to do much more reading. Daily newspapers (yes, I still read the hard copy) many magazines and tons of books (rarely fiction ), including many on that wonderful invention called Kindle keep me stimulated.

I reflect sadly upon millions in the world today who either have no access to books or who are permitted only to read highly censored state-controlled material. And I pray that my eyes and my mind will permit me to continue to have that simple yet profound pleasure of reading which all began with “I am a gingerbread man. I am. I am.”

Surprise: Here I Go Again

Not that anyone has noticed, but I have not posted a BLOG for some months. The reason is that I decided to print my previous ones. That required me and wife Jane, son John and daughter Peggy all to get involved in editing, deleting, and formatting some 400 pages of printed stuff from the last ten years plus. Hopefully we will get it printed in the next 60 days and if anyone wants a copy I will supply it.

As I determined to resume writing BLOGS I asked myself, “Mel why would you do this?” There are several reasons. The first is that I find it very satisfying to recall my life. God has been exceptionally good to me. God has given me the gifts of health and an incredibly wide range of experiences. I have been blessed by relationships with people from all over the world. I have been touched by the kindness of strangers and friends of all ages and cultures. When I write a BLOG recalling one or more of these events my heart feels grateful and pleased.

The second reason is that in the last couple weeks a few friends have shared with me their recollections, autobiographies et sim. I found them interesting and thought that just maybe someone (especially also my grandchildren) might someday want to know about me and my life of long ago.

There is a third reason I am again writing blogs: it requires a discipline. Now that I am 92 years of age I have resigned from many committees or boards. I no longer teach a class every week. I have not had a deadline for an article for a magazine in years. I find that I am missing the discipline of meeting deadlines and that feels good. And it also means that I waste more time. So now I am giving myself the discipline of a blog a week and I will see if I can still do that. So, as the title of this BLOG says,” Here I Go Again.”

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Milking Cows

One of my childhood tasks that I really enjoyed was milking cows. From the time I was born until the time I went to college my parents always had at least two cows. We had them to provide milk for our families-and to produce calves. We raised the calves until they weighed a couple hundred pounds and then sold them off to be butchered. But the main reason we had cows was so that they could provide us with daily milk.

My job was to milk them in the evening. During the day the cows roamed in our pasture while the calves were fenced into a small corral. Around sunset the cows were brought into a small fenced-in area between the barn and the chicken coops. The calves were brought to their mothers and were allowed to suckle milk for a while. Then they were roped off and tied away from their mothers. I would take my milk bucket, a very low small stool and get down (always on the right side of the cow) and did the milking. I remember that I always laid my head up against the side of the cow. That felt good and made the whole process a relaxing one. When the milk had been drained from the cow’s udder the calves were released and they often tried to get a bit more milk from the cows.

Then the milk was taken into our home. We always had a mechanical milk separator. As its name indicates this rotary hand-turned little machine separated the cream from the milk, with the cream coming out one spigot and the whey the other. The whey was fed to our pets. The cream was kept for baking, cooking, adding to coffee and for making butter. I always made sure that somewhere in this whole process I drank a goodly portion of the fresh milk. It was always best if the milk was still warm coming only minutes before from the cow’s udder. No thought of any pasteurizing ever entered into consideration.

Something that happened only once or twice brings back very pleasant memories. It was in the middle of the day and Mom decided it would be a special treat to just stop everything else we were doing and make a gallon of home made ice cream. I was given a bucket and told to go out in to the pasture, go up to the cow and milk it of the required amount. My recollection is that Mother made the custard for the ice cream without boiling or heating it. The ice cream was perfect!

I find it interesting that in my adult years I never drink milk. I honestly now cannot recall the last time I drank a glass of milk. Our kids have other memories. Four of the five were born in Hong Kong, not a place at which I went out to milk cows. Getting fresh milk there was a challenge and we almost never had any. Instead all milk was from powder. The kids got used to that and liked it. When we went home on leave we stopped in Japan. At breakfast they asked for and each was served milk. They took a taste, made a face and said, “This stuff tastes funny. We don’t like it!” It was their first experience with fresh cow’s milk.

I wonder if anybody around Walburg, Texas still milks cows by hand. If not they are missing a good experience.

Remembering Howie Capell

I write this on 9-11-19 remembering that sad and infamous day eighteen years ago. Sadness continues to overwhelm me as I recall all those innocent victims. I recall especially also those 60 children who were all students in the Lutheran Schools of New York who on that day lost either a parent or a grandparent. I recall those trapped, those who leapt to their death. And I recall the public servants who did all they could to assist. Painfully I remember those misguided men who perpetrated this unthinkable evil and did it in the name of God.

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I remember with special admiration and gratitude the many who rendered all kinds of supportive services to those so terribly affected by this event. I recall with special gratitude and admiration the incredible work of Lutheran Disaster Relief New York under the extremely capable leadership of John Scibilia.

In the midst of the throng that passes by in my mental image I recall one who was not at the Twin Towers that day but later assisted many of those affected by that disaster, HOWARD CAPELL. Howie was an incredibly gifted and big-hearted New York lawyer. Howie was my personal lawyer and he was the official lawyer for The Lutheran Schools Association and of many other Lutheran friends, churches and schools. 

Of special interest is the fact that he was the persistent, patient, unrelenting and capable attorney for Dr. David Benke. Dr.Benke was the President (Bishop) of The Atlantic District of the LCMS. He joined thousands in a public outpouring of prayers at Yankee Stadium praying for all those affected by 9-11. Some high church officials deemed his prayerful participation contrary to Lutheran doctrine and practice and sought to have President Benke defrocked. Howie was his legal representative and hung in there for years until Benke was finally cleared

Howie did more. He pleaded the case of many public service employees or dependents who lost their lives or whose lives were severely negatively affected by all that went on in, under, and near to the those fallen towers. Of special note were the appropriate benefits that he secured for many police officers and their families. I have written in a previous blog how he became known throughout the city for his tenacious advocacy and how police officers quickly recognized his automobile, cleared traffic for him, found him immediate parking spaces, always free and within close walking distance of his destination even in the midst of Times Square.

Previous to the 9-11 situation Howie was always there for The Lutheran Schools in New York and elsewhere. He fended off suits brought by upset parents or angry former teachers. He was especially helpful in more than one case through his unbelievable contacts and pleadings with the IRS and other government agencies. On at least three occasions he aided schools that had withheld FICA payments from employees but never sent them in to the IRS or Social Security. In each case Howie used his skills and contacts to have fines written off and the balances reduced.

He helped write all the documents to have The Lutheran Schools Association be properly registered with government agencies -and he did it all pro bono.

He wrote my will. When by God’s special grace to me to I made a significant profit on an investment he insisted that I tithe the profits with a gift through a church related charitable remainder trust-. Now 25 years later I still get a generous annual interest payment and at my death a trio of my favourite causes will receive their remainder.

And he was fun to be with. He was not a drinker of alcohol but always invited his guests to enjoy a libation. He took me to New York steak houses that were way out of my price range. He brought guests to benefit golf events and purchased more lottery tickets than anyone else. Of special interest to me was when he and Sheila accompanied me on an incredible tour of China (including the whole western section) and Tibet. He met everybody, left the group when he wanted to do his own thing and made friends with all whom he encountered. And a couple of years after that China trip he joined me and a couple of others for an unbelievable and unheard of “week-end expedition to Hong Kong for golf”.

He was a strong family man and it was fun to watch and listen to his family interactions. His sons wisely chose not to be his business partners and loved him dearly. His marvellous wife Sheila and he were always at odds on foreign travel, eating choices, how much time to spend in their Florida home and lots of other stuff-but always loved each other, stood up for and by each other and were 100% mutually faithful.

Howie loved doing work not only for Lutheran churched and schools but also for many other churches and he had the reputation as the right one to go to if any religious organization in New York ever needed legal advice or representation.

His heritage was 100% Jewish. He was not one to be overly committed to observing the Sabbath. But especially in his later days as he (way too early) suffered and eventually died of cancer it was important to him that appropriate religious rituals and expectations be observed.

And so today I remember my friend, my advocate, my model, my brother: HOWARD CAPELL.