Monday, March 15, 2010

Conway Twitty: Too Sexy for Country?

MARCH 15, 2010

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Note: The quality of the music reproduction on the Playlist is much better than the quality of the YouTube videos. And if you don't listen to the Playlist with earphones or earbuds I doubt you will be able to tell what is so very unique about his voice and music.


YouTube videos follow this introduction


Harold Jenkins didn't sound to him like much of a name for a singer who intended to distinguish himself from the crowd so he became Conway Twitty, which was nothing if not unique. No one really knows if he, as rumor has it, conjured the name by glancing at a map and noticing Conway, Ark. and Twitty, Tx. but the name is certainly hard to forget.

Before Sue and I got married we decided to take a drive from St. Louis down to Branson and I was introducing her to country music. I asked her to fumble around in the glove box for a Conway Twitty tape.

She looked at me and said, "What's that?"

I said, "That's the name of the top country singer."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope."

Well, she found it, got a good laugh out of his name, played the tape -- and became another Conway Twitty fan.


Conway Twitty was a singer/song writer who had early success in rock and roll, R&B and pop. But it was in the singing of country ballads, many of which were sensuous, with thinly veiled sexual innuendos, that pushed him to the very top of the country charts for over 30 years. Much of his music was indeed suggestive and sensuous, but it never crossed the line into anything remotely vulgar.

On the contrary, it would be considered tame by today's much looser standards. Nevertheless he encountered substantial opposition to it throughout his career from the traditionalists in the genre.

Yet, until 2007 he held the record of 55 number one country singles. And, in addition to his solo career, in the early '70s he and Loretta Lynn won award after award as their duets topped the country charts time and again. His cross over covers of such songs as "The Rose" won appreciation far beyond the country genre.

His initial success was in rock and roll. Writing and singing "Its Only Make Believe" he finally had his first #1 hit, on the pop charts, not only on Billboard but in 21 other countries. That was the beginning of a strong international fan base that was to remain with him even after he crossed from rock to country and which bolstered his record sales and made him an international singing star.

After modest success in rock, some R&B and pop, by the mid-60s Conway Twitty had his heart set on moving into country music. However, many country DJs did not want to play his music because he was a "rock and roll" singer.

But by 1968 with his first country #1 song he was firmly entrenched on the country scene, without much help from either the DJs or the country establishment. Nobody liked his music except the people. They loved it.

Nevertheless, he continued to have trouble getting some of his songs played by prudish disk jockeys. Today we would find it hard the believe that the sexual innuendo of the lyrics of his songs, coupled with the way he sang them, could possibly bother a disk jockey. But Conway Twitty was not one to change what made his music stand apart from the then current country scene.

Twitty knew exactly what he was doing and became a country heart throb and sensation in the 70s and 80s, selling out every venue he played, complete with a following of swooning women, not unlike what happened to Sinatra and Elvis. County music had never seen anything like it, and hasn't again since.

While performing in Branson, Mo, in 1993 he became ill and died from an abdominal aortic aneurysm. He was only 59 years old.

Ironically, in country music circles Conway Twitty is not talked about much these days and his songs are seldom played, even on the Country Golden Oldies stations. If I had to guess why I would say that he is a victim of his own success.

His voice was unique, gravelly, ranging from a deep baritone to tenor, and he sometimes whispered the words as much as sang them. He sounded, well, the only word is "sexy." And when that voice was combined with suggestive lyrics he created an image that was just a bit too "bad boy" for some of the country music crowd.

I also think that artists that start out in rock and roll and end up in country music never are quite considered to be "really" country by the powers that be in country music. This is in spite of the fact that he was a member of the Grand Ole Opry and inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame, posthumously, in 1999.

I liked Conway Twitty from the first time I heard him singing early rock and R&B and I still like his music today. All of it. And that is why I have posted this tribute.

More on Conway Twitty can be found here:

http://conwaytwitty.com/
http://www.cmt.com/artists/az/twitty_conway/artist.jhtml
http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=11:diftxql5ldfe

Lay You Down



Don't Take It Away



Hello, Darlin'



Slow Hand



Easy Lovin' w/ Loretta Lynn



I'm Not Through Loving You Yet



Almost Persuaded



Don't Call Him a Cowboy



A Bridge That Just Won't Burn



Friday, March 12, 2010

The Death of the Messiah: Part Two of Four; for Lent, 2010

First published Open Salon, MARCH 12, 2010 12:29PM



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NOTE TO READERS: This Lenten essay was originally published on Open Salon, March 5, 2009. It is part of my Christian Calendar Series. I have edited it for 2010, clarifying certain points and improving the flow of the text.

Christian liturgy, ritual and most of Christian theology change little from year to year. The reason for the Christian Calendar is to encourage Christians to rehearse, ponder and reflect on, year after year, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, so that His life becomes part and parcel of our family history.

The story of Christ changes little, but we, His disciple, change and grow, become ill, or face death, our own or a loved one's, and in so doing we come each year to view the events of Christ and the traditions of His Church through different eyes.

Hopefully, what I write in this series will have a certain timelessness, updated slightly each year to improve clarity and thereby open more deeply our understanding of aspects of the events celebrated during the Christian Year.

This Lenten essay for 2010 lays out some basic parameters of orthodox Christian belief. What is written here are my own beliefs, which are widely shared by Christians in most mainline Protestant denominations and in the Roman and Orthodox Catholic denominations in the United States as being fundamental to Christian faith.

Note: Part One of The Death of the Messiah, 2010 Edition can be found here: ttp://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/03/05/the_death_of_the_messiah_introduction_for_lent_2010

Why it is Good to have Four Different Views

of The Death of The Messiah

Overview:

Last Friday in Part One I introduced this series, edited for 2010, on The Death of the Messiah. I pointed out that, while we may think there is only one story of the death of the Messiah, repeated four times, in fact there are four different renditions of the story of Jesus' death, both in the details and in the portrait of Jesus presented. I also said that there is also a fifth rendition: the one that we create from the other four.

I noted that from the perspective of the Christian believer these Gospel stories were divinely inspired and that God was therefore, both mindful of the inconsistencies in the stories, and intentional in his inspiration, in that he wants us to be able to see Jesus' death from four unique vantage points.

We do not improve on the Gospel accounts by trying to harmonize them, regardless how tempting it is to try to do so. Ultimately, all attempts at harmonizing the Gospels never give a true picture of what God is saying to us in those sacred texts.

Therefore, I ended Part One telling you that having four differing stories was a good thing, in spite of the ulcers that it must give to those who want all of the stories of Jesus to be clear, concise, neat and without factual disagreement.

Part of the problem for such people is that they insist on viewing the Gospels as history, which they are not. They are theology told in narratives, stories, and are kerygma, proclamation. Mostly they are proclamations of the Good News (Gospel) of Jesus the Christ.

Part Two:

While our vanity makes this hard to comprehend, Christians should understand that the stories in the Bible are not written to meet any human standard. They only meet the standard that God wanted them to meet when s/he inspired the writers of the Gospels to write them, a standard which God has not felt it necessary to justify to us. I'm comfortable with that, since s/he is God and I am not.

But many are not comfortable with that at all, and have, unsuccessfully, tried to "harmonize" the Gospels, doing away with troublesome inconsistencies. We are not going to do that. In fact, we're going to look at a couple of those inconsistencies today, and then use them to make the point that it is a good thing that we have four differing accounts of the Death of the Messiah.

First, let's look at the Gospel narratives in general. If you think about it logically, the first thing you will notice is that all the Gospels do hold to a common, basic outline of the events leading to the crucifixion. And that makes perfect sense. After all, there was a basic order of events that took place, indeed, had to take place, and each of the Gospel writers had to take this into account.

Thus, Jesus' arrest had to precede his trial, and the trial had to precede the sentence, and the sentence had to precede His execution. And all the Gospels contain these elements. In other words, all share a common plot. And that is just what it is: a plot of a drama, one we call "The Death of the Messiah."

And, in this narrative, this drama, there are not only the actions and reactions of Jesus, but also of supporting characters, like Peter and Judas and Pilate. And the drama is heightened by the contrasts between these characters: innocent Jesus and guilty Barabbas, faithful Jesus and betraying Peter, and in one of the Gospels, wise and troubled Pilate versus vile and remorseless "Jews". Even the scoffing Jewish leaders have their antitheses in the Roman soldier who, in two accounts, declares Jesus to be, in fact, the Son of God.

All of these elements, while often used quite differently in the differing Gospels, heighten our awareness of the struggle going on here, between Jesus and the world that, as John puts it, "knew him not."

The personification of the characters that surround him, the descriptions of their personalities and their desires encourages us, the readers, to participate in the drama by constantly asking ourselves the question: "Where would I have stood had I been one of these players in this drama of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus?"

Perhaps we can see ourselves as being among those who welcomed him into Jerusalem as a hero. But would we be able to see ourselves as Peter, denying him? As Judas, betraying Him? Or as Pilate, either wishing to avoid the issue altogether, as in John's account, or washing his hands of the whole thing, so he might appear blameless, as in Matthew's?

Or could we see ourselves abandoning him, as all the disciples did in three accounts, or staying at the foot of his cross until the end, as did the beloved disciple and Mary in the Fourth Gospel? Or, most telling of all, would we see ourselves, could we see ourselves, as being like the religious leaders who condemned him?

Perhaps not; but we certainly don't want anyone coming around to us individually, say, here on OS, telling us we've got our religion all wrong; haven't got a clue what God expects of us; have no compassion for the poor and have indulged our own personal gluttony in the face of God's commandment to love others! I would think our feathers would get just a bit ruffled if someone accused us of that. But that is exactly what Jesus did, isn't it?

Just so, there were many real life factors that colored the writing of the Gospels, which, as we learned last week, were all written about 30 to 70 years after the death of Jesus. The memory of what happened at Jesus' death was deeply affected by the life situations of the local Christian communities in which the Gospel writers lived; and each was a little different. Each Gospel, for example, reflects how the writers perceived the Romans and the Jews.

Take the Romans, for instance. How do you get a balanced portrayal of Jesus when writing in a nation occupied by Romans? How do you offset the negative attitude toward Jesus exhibited by Tacitus, the great Roman writer, who treats Jesus as a despicable criminal; worthy of no more than a few lines in his writing?

How would you overcome Tacitus' portrayal? What if, say, you were to portray Pilate as being a spokesman for Jesus, or at least, not against him? Two of the Gospel writers did just that. If you carefully move through the Gospels according to when they were written: Mark first, then Luke, then Matthew, and finally, John.

Yyou'll see that Pilate is increasingly portrayed as a fair judge who recognized Jesus as innocent of political ambition. This viewpoint not only rehabilitates Pilate in the eyes of Christian readers, but also rehabilitates Jesus in the eyes of Romans: if a Roman Governor of Pilate's stature saw nothing wrong in Jesus, Tacitus must have been mistaken about Jesus being nothing more than a common criminal.

Lets look at just one more example: "How would you characterize Jewish involvement in Jesus' death? Who was involved, responsible, for the death of Jesus? Was it "the Jews?" If so, was it all of the Jews? Or just the Pharisees? The Priests? All the Priests? The Sanhedrin?

What about Joseph of Aramethea, a Jew? Wasn't he in the Sanhedrin? Weren't, in fact, all of Jesus' named followers and the vast majority of all the other followers of Jesus also Jews? Wasn't, after all, Jesus a Jewish Rabbi? So just who are these "Jews" who "killed Jesus?"

Well, it depends on which Gospel you read. If you wish to go easy on the Jewish involvement, or want to limit it to a handful of leaders, read Luke. In Luke there is no calling for witnesses against Jesus and there is no Jewish death sentence against Him. In fact, there is no formal night time trial, complete with the high priest Ciaphas in charge, as in Mark and Matthew. There is only a simple questioning in the morning by the Sanhedrin.

John, who is hard on the Jews elsewhere in his Gospel, also does not write that any Jews were heavily involved in deciding Jesus' fate. John records no Sanhedrin session at all after Jesus' arrest, but only a police interrogation conducted by a different high priest, Annas.

Confused? Add further confusion: John includes Roman soldiers and their Tribune at the arrest, the others do not. This is important, because no Roman Tribune could have been dispatched without the knowledge of Pilate, which would mean that Pilate was involved far earlier and more deeply than any of the other Gospels report.

On the other hand, if you suspect that it was "all of the Jews" who accused Jesus then Matthew's Gospel leads you that way; while Mark and Luke limit their accusations to the Jewish leadership, specifically the priests and the Sanhedrin. John goes easy on the Jewish leaders during the trial period because John believes that the "world" rejected Jesus and so places blame implicitly on everybody, and does not go easy on either the Romans or the Jews as groups. Both are guilty in John's eyes.

We could spend several weeks looking at, and comparing, the Gospel accounts of such things as those above, and things like: How did Jesus view His own death? How did the disciples react at Gesthemene? What did they do at the arrest? Could the Jewish trial even have happened according to Jewish law? What happened at the actual time of death? Did the curtain in the Temple split? Were graves opened? And, later, were there guards at the tomb? And on and on.

But we really don't have time for all that. And, more importantly, if we took the time, would we find out anything that would help us better understand Jesus? Well, I have done that for decades, and can tell you that studying and arguing about such questions does almost nothing to help us learn about Jesus.

What will help us know more about Jesus is to know that each individual portrayal of Jesus' death gives us an insight into who he is such as none of the others give us.

And the reason is simple enough. Each divinely inspired evangelist knows a different facet of Jesus and his Passion, and he portrays, therefore, a different picture.


What I'm going to do now is give you a brief summary of what careful study of three of the portrayals of Jesus and the events leading to his death can tell us. We will look at Mark, Luke and John. Matthew's portrayal of Jesus is closely based on Mark's, and while Matthew adds many details about events, a discussion of Matthew's portrayal of Jesus would be covering essentially the same ground as the discussion of Mark's portrayal.

Mark:

Both Mark and Matthew portray a very human, very vulnerable Jesus. Mark portrays a scene of stark human abandonment of Jesus at the time of his Passion. Yet, in the end God turns it all around, and neither the abandonment of the disciples nor Jesus' own questioning of God affects God's moment of supreme grace in raising Jesus from the grave.

Mark's gospel intends to shock. And it does. In Mark, long before the Passion the disciples were almost universally clueless as to whom Jesus really was, and, even when they came close to the truth they could not accept the idea of a dying Messiah. And it only gets worse as the tension mounts toward betrayal and death.

In the garden at Gethsemene they fall asleep, not once, but three times. Judas betrays him, but Peter is hardly better, denying that he ever knew him. All flee, one in such haste that he leaves his clothes behind, literally saving his own skin - the very opposite of leaving all things to follow Jesus.

The Roman and Jewish judges are seen by Mark as great cynics. Jesus hangs from the cross for six hours, and three of those hours are filled with mockery and three with utter darkness. And Jesus deeply feels abandonment, even by his heavenly Father. Mark's very human Jesus cries but one thing from the cross, quoting the 22nd Psalm, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?"

Yet, in the end, God vindicates his Son. If the trial before the Sanhedrin was to assess his threat to tear down the Temple, God in an act of judgment and vindication, tears the veil of the Temple in two. And an outsider, a hated Roman, is heard to say what no Jew, disciple or priest, could ever figure out: "Truly this was the Son of God." In Mark, only after his death on the Cross is it possible to see that Jesus was no false prophet, but was, indeed, the Son of God.

Luke:

Luke portrays a very different Jesus. And the disciples are shown in a far more sympathetic light. They remain faithful to Him in his trials. And, while they fall asleep while Jesus prays, once, not three times, it is only out of their "sorrow." Even the enemies of Jesus look better in Luke. There are no false witnesses produced at the Jewish trial, and even Pilate acknowledges three times that Jesus is not guilty.

The people are not rabble calling for his death, but rather are grieved over what has been done to him. And, just as they show great concern for him, so too is he less anguished by what will happen to him than by what happens to them. At the arrest he heals the slave's ear and on the road to Calvary he worries about the fate of the women in the coming trials. Further, he forgives those who crucified him and even promises paradise to a thief who merely asks to be remembered, a scene only in Luke's Gospel.

Thus, in Luke, the crucifixion becomes a time of divine forgiveness and care. Jesus dies in tranquility, unlike in Mark, saying simply. "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit."

John:

In stark contrast to either Mark or Luke, John portrays a triumphal Jesus, even in death, a Jesus who long before the passion defiantly announced, "I lay down my life and I take it up again; no one takes it from me!" This Jesus knows, in advance, exactly what is going to happen to him and when, and it will happen as and when he says.

When the Roman soldiers and the Jewish police come to arrest him they fall to the ground powerless. In the garden he does not pray for the cup to pass him; for it was for this moment he was born. He is so self assured that he offends the high priest; and even Pilate feels his power. Jesus has no fear of Pilate. saying, bluntly, "You have no power over me." Nor does anyone carry his cross; this is something he is perfectly able to do for himself. Even his royalty is proclaimed in three languages on the cross and is, in fact, confirmed by Pilate.

Totally unlike the three other Gospels, Jesus does not die on the cross abandoned, but with his mother and the beloved disciple with him. And speaking to them from the Cross he gives the beloved disciple and his mother to one another, creating, as it were, a family of loving disciples to carry forward the message.

This Jesus can not cry out "Why have you forsaken me?" because the Father has always been with him, literally "in" him, and will be so through death to resurrection and glorious ascension. His last words bear no anxiety or pain, but the simple statement that he has done what he came to do: "It is finished." And only then, when he declared that he has done what was needed, does he hand over his spirit to the Father.

Even in death he continues to dispense life as living water and blood flow from his pierced side. And his burial is not something hurried and unprepared as in the other Gospels, but he lies in state amidst 100 pounds of spices - as befits a king.


In the final two posts in this series we will go into this in more detail. But let me ask you: do you despair because these portraits are so starkly different? Do you think that one is, must be, more correct? Remember, all three descriptions are given to us by one Holy Spirit, the one Spirit that inspired the writers of each Gospel.

And, understand this well, no one Gospel, or all four Gospels combined, exhaust the meaning of Jesus! In fact, a true picture of Jesus can only just begin to emerge because we have at least four differing depictions.

Why, then, is this Good News? Because by having these differing descriptions people with different spiritual needs can find meaning in the cross. And even the same person, at different points in his or her life, can find meaning there.

As Jesus did in Mark's Gospel, have you never needed desperately to cry out "My God, My God Why Have You Forsaken Me?" Have you never felt that? Do you not need to know that when you feel that way, just as Jesus did, God has not abandoned you and that he can reverse tragedy in your life?

As in Luke's Gospel, have you never been hurt by others, deeply hurt, and have finally found some relief from your anger in forgiveness? Is "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" not something that we need to hear, knowing that our Savior had far more reason to hate than we shall ever have?

Don't we, with Luke's Jesus, need from time to time to turn ourselves over fully to God, having been unable to fix things for ourselves? Can we not find hope and comfort in saying, "Into your hands, O God, I place myself."?

Yet, as in John's Gospel, are there not times in your life when you desperately need to know that evil and sin and all the perfidy of this life cannot prevail against God and those who have faith in him?

With John don't we often need to believe that we worship an all knowing, fully in control, always in command, Jesus who will guide and protect, defend and defeat every foe and evil, be it the prevailing powers, or the principalities or the purveyors of lies?

Jesus is all of these and more, far more than can ever be captured by putting pen to paper. These descriptions do not exhaust the portrayal of Jesus, they begin the task. Each Christian will ultimately find a portrayal of Jesus the Christ that fits his or her personal needs. And that portrayal will not be complete for everybody else, and may change over time as we learn more about the One in whom we place out trust.


Hopefully this brief Lenten series has begun to outline for you some of the major characteristics of Christ that will give you a basis for a better understanding of the One whom Christians call "Our Lord and Savior."

Listen to Fr. Raymond Brown. "To choose one portrayal of the crucified Jesus in a manner that would exclude the other portrayals or to harmonize all the Gospel portrayals into one would deprive the cross of much of its meaning. It is important that some be able to see the head bowed in dejection, while others observe the arms outstretched in forgiveness, and still others perceive in the title on the cross the proclamation of a reigning king."

That, my friends, is Good News.

Monte





Original posting, 1400 page views before counter was removed
This posting for 2010:

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The Death of the Messiah: Introduction; for Lent, 2010

First Published in Open Salon, MARCH 5, 2010 2:36PM

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NOTE TO READERS: This Lenten essay was originally published on Open Salon, February 25, 2009. It is part of my Christian Calendar Series. It is intended to set a tone for thinking about the season of Lent. I have edited it for 2010, clarifying certain points and improving the flow of the text.

Christian liturgy, ritual and most of Christian theology change little from year to year. The reason for the Christian Calendar is to encourage Christians to rehearse, ponder and reflect on, year after year, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, so that His life becomes part and parcel of our family history.

The story of Christ changes little, but we, His disciple, change and grow, become ill, or face death, our own or a loved one's, and in so doing we come each year to view the events of Christ and the traditions of His Church through different eyes.

Hopefully, what I write in this series will have a certain timelessness, updated slightly each year to improve clarity and thereby open more deeply our understanding of aspects of the events celebrated during the Christian Year.

This Lenten essay for 2010 lays out some basic parameters of orthodox Christian belief. What is written here are my own beliefs, which are widely shared by Christians in most mainline Protestant denominations and in the Roman and Orthodox Catholic denominations in the United States as being fundamental to Christian faith.


The Death of the Messiah: Introduction

This is a Christian Reflection, written for other Christians, other people of faith who may wish to better understand this aspect of Christianity, and for others, seekers and the curious, who may wish to know about the Christian understanding of the events leading up to the crucifixion of Jesus, the Christ. The Reflection is a statement of belief. It is kerygma, proclamation. If you come here with an open heart and an intention to be tolerant of the beliefs of others, all beliefs, all religions, or none at all, you are in the right place. If not, this post is not for you.

"How Do You See the Death of the Messiah?"

This is the first of a series of four Lenten Reflections on the Death of the Messiah, in other words, on the Passion of Jesus, the Christ. The series is the result of research I did to help ordinary Christians better understand the meaning of the Death of Jesus.

It is my conviction that our understanding of Christ's Passion has been warped badly by well meaning scholars and pastors who have sought to simplify the reality of His death. Simplification is often a good thing. But when simplification leads to confusion and false understandings of what the Bible says, then it ceases to be useful.

I feel strongly that we need to understand the Cross of Christ as God has taught it, not as we might like to hear it. Therefore, four times during Lent, with our focus clearly on the death of Jesus on Good Friday, we will look at the events immediately preceding Jesus' death and at his crucifixion. This Reflection and the next constitute an overview of all four Gospel accounts of the death of Jesus.

The final two Reflections will be a more detailed look at two of the four accounts, those of Mark and Luke. We will not look at Matthew and John in that detail; but the contrasts between Mark and Luke are clear enough that you will be able to understand that, like these two Gospel accounts, Matthew and John are also different in their understanding of the Passion.

Teachng Reflections like these demand more of you than a little skim of the text. You will need to read rather carefully so that you can form your own opinions as to what is meant. In fact, contrary to many well meaning, but misled people, there are seldom simple answers, including in the Bible.

Jesus’ death was not simple. But his death, when viewed in the light of his subsequent resurrection, is the most important event in Christian faith. Christian salvation literally depends on it. And so Christians certainly need to understand it. Most importantly, Christians need to understand what the Bible says about it, not what we might have heard that it says, or what we might wish that it says.

So I am inviting you to a true Lenten “discipline,” in the best sense of that word. And I promise you that if you will pay attention the reward will be great, for you will have a far better grasp on this event that Christians believe is the pivotal event in human history.

I chose the series title, The Death of the Messiah, in honor of the magnificent, unparalleled, work of the same name be Fr. Raymond Brown. His book, The Death of the Messiah is universally recognized as the most significant contribution to understanding the death of Jesus in the history of the church. That monumental work is over 1800 pages long. Obviously, we can only glean the highlights in a short series of reflections, but I need to acknowledge that Raymond Brown has greatly influenced my own thinking on this issue.

We will be looking at a very small segment of the Bible: the passion and crucifixion of Jesus, through four very different sets of eyes: those of Mark, Matthew, Luke and John. What we probably don't realize, however, is that most of us have created yet a fifth set of eyes. This fifth set of eyes is the one by which we have filtered what we know from those four very different accounts into one homogenous account that we believe fits what happened to Jesus in the brief time from Gethesemane to the grave.

We may even think that all four Gospel accounts of the death of the Messiah are essentially the same, and that our understanding of what happened to Jesus and how he approached his death is based on one uniform account. But that is not true.

The accounts of his death are not the same in key ways; and the Jesus depicted in each of those accounts is quite different from the others. The four gospels vary substantially, both as to what the Gospel writers say happened, and as to the theological implications and conclusions that each individual writer gives to the story.

For some that may be jarring, disquieting, and they may not even want to hear it. Christians naturally want to "harmonize" the four Gospel accounts, make them into a homogenous unit, with no loose ends. Attempts at "harmonizing the Gospels" have been made from the beginning of Christianity. None have been successful.

When we seek to harmonize the gospel accounts then we fall victim to believing what we want to believe rather than what the Bible clearly tells us. We, quite naturally, I think, would prefer one set of so-called "facts" to the rather differing narratives we read in the Bible.

We are like a good detective called to take the statements of four witnesses to an accident at an intersection, each standing at very different places, and while all saw the same thing, none of the four eye witnesses agree on what they saw.

The early church struggled with this problem for many years. But, and this is very important, the church, from the beginning, believed that the divinely revealed scriptures, even while often differing in detail, were the work of God, processed through the minds and hands of man, yes, but nevertheless divinely inspired by God.

And, for over 1600 years, the church has said that, regardless of their lack of harmony, the four Gospel accounts of Jesus were intended to give us different pictures of Jesus; and that, therefore, all were true in the eyes of faith. The church has consistently held that no one account of his life, death and resurrection could capture all the facets of his life and death.

Therefore, while many individuals have tried to harmonize the Gospels through the centuries, the church has seldom encouraged these attempts, which is precisely why we have four Gospels and not one. The church has been far more content than most individuals to allow the Gospels to stand as they are, seeing them as four different, divinely inspired ways of viewing the same events.

And that is the tack we shall take in this series. The truth is that the Gospels, and the death of Jesus as reported in them, cannot be harmonized. They are different, both in substance and in theological outlook. For instance, the Jesus described in Matthew and Mark is a far different Jesus than the one described in John, in almost every way imaginable.

Now, if you are a believer in Christ you have two choices. You can say that they all cannot be true and insist on harmonizing them, force fitting them into your own pre-conceived ideas of what you think went on, or at least what you think should have gone on.

Or, you can look at the Gospels as they stand and see what God is trying to tell us about the death of Jesus through the divinely inspired work of these four stories. Fr. Raymond Brown decided to do the latter: to look at each Gospel separately and to then attempt to discern God's message from the differing texts. That is what I shall be doing in this series, using Dr. Brown as our guide.

What we shall find when we are finished is that Jesus was and is a far more complicated being than we previously thought; and that the writers of the Gospels had to struggle with that fact. And they also had to struggle with the fact that they wrote long after the event took place.

Jesus died about 30 AD. The earliest Gospel, Mark, was written at least some 20 to 30 years later but, most likely, about 40 years later, around 70 AD. Luke was likely written about the mid-80s AD, over 50 years after the death of Christ. Matthew was probably written sometime between 80 and 100 AD, 50 to 70 years after the death of Jesus.

The date of the writing of the Gospel according to John is harder to pin down, but, in any case was not before 75 AD or much later than 100 AD, that is, 45 to 70 years after the death of the Messiah. In other words, if they were writing today, they would be writing about something that happened somewhere between 1910 and 1980!

There was no intention to write the Gospels immediately after Jesus died. The whole point of writing the Gospels at all was that Jesus did not return as quickly as expected and the stories were starting to get confused, sometimes deliberately, as they were verbally passed down year after year.

The original eye-witnesses were dying off, or already dead. Many false oral gospels were springing up in the widely dispersed church. Luke makes this most clear in the preface to his Gospel where he tells us that he is writing it to set the record straight.

Each of the four gospels in the Bible was intended for the Christian community in which the writer resided. There is no evidence that the writer thought that he was writing to the church universal.

Each writer's resources were slightly different. Mark, the earliest written, wrote primarily from the oral tradition, that is, from the verbal stories of Jesus told in his community by its leaders. There is no evidence that he had any written materials to edit, although that is possible.

Matthew, writing quite a bit later, relied heavily on Mark's gospel, often word for word. It is clear that Matthew edited and adapted from Mark. But he wrote a much longer Gospel, adding items from his own tradition, the oral tradition in his community and from other sources.

Matthew also added early Christian "apologetics", in other words, defenses of the faith made by early church leaders against accusations and threats from the Jewish leaders and the Romans. He adds, for instance, scenes about the death of Judas, about Pilate washing his hands of the whole affair, about the dream of Pilate's wife, and he places guards at the tomb.

Both Matthew and Luke seem to have shared ideas from a written source that we no longer have any record of. That source is simply called "Q" for the German word, "quelle" which means "source" in English. We know this because both Matthew and Luke have identical word for word accounts in their Gospels that are unknown to Mark or John. In addition, both Matthew and Luke drew from their own oral, and perhaps partially written, traditions.

John's Gospel is radically different than the others, so different that while the other three are called "synoptic," that is, they can be "viewed together," John's is called simply "the fourth Gospel." There is no evidence that John relied on any of the other three Gospels in the composition of his Gospel, although it is likely that he had access to Mark's and, perhaps, the other two as well.

But John, even more than the other three Gospel writers, was consciously and very intentionally writing a theology of the Christ, and his emphasis is on discerning who Jesus was, what Jesus' relationship to the Father was, and on what Jesus said and tried to teach us as that relates to God's intention for Jesus here on earth.

Jesus' ministry in John is three years long, not one or one and a half as in the other Gospels; three Passover feasts are celebrated during his ministry, not one, and he makes three trips between Galilee and Jerusalem, not one. In fact, in John most of Jesus' ministry is said to be concentrated in Judea and Jerusalem, not in Galilee as in the other Gospels.

The chronology of the trial and crucifixion is quite different as well, including saying that the Friday of the crucifixion was not the Passover, but the day of Preparation for Passover, thus John has no Passover meal in the upper room (which becomes the first Eucharist in the other Gospels), but rather an ordinary supper after which he washes the feet of the disciples and proceeds to make several lengthy speeches to the disciples, speeches the other Gospels know nothing about. And there are many other differences about the last days of Jesus in John's Gospel.

But, as different as these Gospel narratives are, we must be clear about one vitally important truth that people, particularly critics of the Gospels, do not seem to understand. None of the Gospel writers was trying to write history. All were writing documents of faith, kerygma, proclamation, filtered through the eyes of faith. They were writing theology, not history.

History as we know it today, based on careful gathering of the physical facts, was not on the agenda of these writers. History writing as we know it was simply unknown to the writers of the Gospels. They wrote to tell us the Good News of Jesus, not to nail down the precise facts of his life.

Theirs was a labor of love, of revelation, of faith. They were not trying to write a nice text book that could be adopted for use in a college history course. Please try to get that fact into your understanding. It will save you enormous heartburn in the future.

So, where does this leave us? Well, if you believe as I do, that the Bible is not just another book; that it is something more than, say, the writings of Shakespeare, or Plato, or Martin Luther; if you believe that the writers of the Bible were divinely inspired, anointed by the Holy Spirit, as I do, to write what they wrote, then, with me, you must conclude that the differences in the four Gospel accounts of the death of the Messiah were intentional. And the differences will, I believe, never be reconciled by us, or by anyone else.

I believe that God gave us four Gospels, not one, on purpose. And I believe s/he expects us to read all four of them and to learn from them, content to let them be for us what they are: divinely inspired books for educating us about the great mystery that is our God, and about his/her Son, Jesus Christ.

We will, later in this series, explore two of these Gospel accounts in some detail. We will note some of the places where the Gospels do not agree on the details. Where that is the case we will try to see if we can determine why that is, or if it makes any difference at all.

But that will not be, and should not be, the primary focus of this Lenten series. The primary focus will be to allow us to see the Jesus that each writer saw, the Jesus that the Holy Spirit inspired them to write about, the Jesus that we need to know, but, in Philip Yancey's term, who, in fact, may be "the Jesus we never knew".

The next Reflection will spend some time looking at why it is good that we have four different portrayals of the death of the Messiah.

God bless you all.

Monte

The Fear of Death Paralyzes Us

First published on Open Salon, MARCH 8, 2010 9:04PM


As a retired pastor one of the fears I have seen in the faithful that at first surprised me was the fear of death.

I think that the fear of death is more prevalent in church going people than they admit, but I do not believe it is a major issue in the lives of the majority of Christians. At the same time I also think that it would be impossible to find out how many practicing Christians fear death as a significant issue in their lives because they assume that if they believe that there is a "heaven" they think that they should never admit any fear of death. Further, people, myself included, change how we feel about death over time.

I wrote about this issue in a post entitled "Bound by Death" on September 24, 2009. If you have not read that essay I urge you to do so because it lays out the fear of death in terms of its theological and psychological hold upon us. It explores Ernest Becker's masterful discussion of this issue in his book, "The Denial of Death," from his non-believing point of view. And it also explores the Christian answer to the issue of death. This post is an extension of those ideas, as applied to my own life.

What that essay does not explore is how a believer can have a strong and hope filled faith and still have doubts, still think about death now and then, and still have those fears invade his thinking in weaker moments. I know that feeling is possible because believers are only human, and believers have doubts about the unknown, just like everyone else. Besides, I have had those feelings.


I am 71 now, with lots of debilitating medical issues that make each day very hard and painful. I am at that point where some days it could be very easy to let doubt ruin my life. So that is where I am in my life journey. But doubt does not hurt my faith like it did when I was younger, and even if I start to feel the chill that comes with thinking about my death I now can turn away from that obsession to something living and hopeful. Let me tell you a little about how I got to this place.

When I was young everybody told me that when I was 40 years old it would be the big slap in the face, but I ran right through 40 without a thought about it. But 50 became my big brick wall. I ran into that wall at full speed, and it knocked me silly. It left me doubting and fearful of death, not death in the abstract, but my own death.

Suddenly at 50 I realized how very mortal I was.. I spent time thinking about how there was no way I could any longer see my life as only half over. It was all downhill from there. And I obsessed about my death. It used to make me shudder and cringe.

This went on even when I was in seminary, and I would lie in bed thinking about it. But it got less and less as time went on. I still think about it from time to time but I am able now to turn my thoughts to other things. And that works now. At 50 it did not.

It would have worked sooner if I knew that I was the one God was expecting to change. I had to learn that for myself because I did not turn to anyone who had been through it. I did not even turn to God about it. It was my big, hidden, shameful secret. How could I really believe my faith was true and yet have those fears?

At 50 I did not really accept the way God made the world. I did not want to accept that death is part of the way God made it. I did not want to believe that I was going to die. Yet dying is part of life. We all do it. I could just not get my head wrapped around that.

Nor could I get my heart wrapped around the idea that God would love me if I had such doubts. Keep in mind that this was during full time seminary for three years. I kept asking myself: "Was I a hypocrite? Was I just one of those Christians who are not planted in solid soil but planted in the stones who would wither away at the first dry spell?" I worried that I was.

Yet if any faithful person is honest with him or her self they will admit that at some point in their lives they all go through fear and doubt. Doubt is part of the human condition. It is built into us. To be human is to doubt. Not just about the hereafter, but about almost every important thing in our lives.

We do not have to be faith based people to doubt. We all doubt ourselves and others, and faith minded people often doubt God. That is the truth that most faith based people fail to tell us, and often even refuse to admit to themselves. But that is the first thing we have to accept. We have to understand that to doubt is to be normal.


We also have to accept that we all will die. It is inevitable, built into the fabric of the cosmos. It will happen. We will die.

So the question is not that people of faith have the doubts that often include the fear of death. The questions are what will we do with those doubts and who will we turn to when we have them?

For a long time the questions I asked myself about my own death paralyzed me. I did not turn to God and ask that they be relieved. I was too embarrassed. Rather, I turned into my fears, wrapped myself in them and suffered. And they just got worse. I thought about death all the time.

I found that my obsession with death was stealing first nights, then whole days, then weeks and months from my life. The very life that I yearned to keep was being stolen from me, and I would lose to death days that could have been filled with life. And I would never get those days back. They were gone.

I was killing myself emotionally, submitting myself to death while my body was still alive. This was not conscious. I was too busy worrying to think about the why of what I was doing, let alone think about what I was doing. I just wanted the emotional pain and the bad thoughts to go away.

But I finally realized that we can't "make" bad thoughts go away. In fact, when we try we make it worse. We can't think about not thinking about something and do anything more than reinforce the very thoughts we want to get rid of.

The only way to make bad thoughts go away is to fill our heads with good thoughts, allowing the good to absorb and overwhelm the bad so there is simply no room in our lives for the bad thoughts. It works. It does not work instantly. But I found out that if we focus on God instead of focusing on ourselves, and if we focus on serving others it can happen.

When we obsess about death we are allowing death to win. I think that is why St. Paul called death the "last enemy" because death can steal our lives from us while we are still alive. I believe that Paul was not just talking about physical death.

He was also talking about the death we bring into our lives by not living them fully. Keep in mind that there was no reason for Paul to bring it up if it were not something that the people in the church he was addressing were concerned about. They were concerned with whether the promises of the resurrection of Christ were true.

So, in addition to asking God to help us push those thoughts of death away with good thoughts, we need to also be asking God to show us the things in our lives that we can do and feel that makes us happy, that give us pleasure. That pleasure can come in loving him and others.

But there is nothing wrong with seeking out things to do and think about that give us pleasure for their own sake. Some people think that if we do that God will think us selfish. And if that is all we do, I would agree. But doing things for our own enjoyment does not take from God. Actually, those things please God, because one of God's great hopes for us is that we will choose to be happy.


I have things that fill my life and still give me pleasure that are not directly connected to what I consciously think of as "pleasing God." Motorcycling has been my great passion all of my life and while I can do far less of it now I still can do some of it. And I look forward to the next ride no matter how short it might be.

When I got this illness and the loss of mobility that confines me to a Lazy Boy most of the time, with guaranteed pain for several hours every day I wake up, and often more than that, I had a crisis again. I was 69. I could not work. Forced retirement for medical reasons is no fun.

And I started thinking that my life was dirt. It happened so suddenly I had no idea what to do with my life. The medical issue consumed me for a while, and I was very worried that it was caused, as it can be, by life threatening diseases. That is still possible but I no longer dwell on that.

So, once again, I had to find things that I could do to help myself and help others. I had to believe that God was not done with me yet. I had to believe that I could still enjoy life and still make a difference in the lives of others.

So, after a few months, I found OS and started writing, researching and learning again. We are never too old to learn. The world is full of things we don't know, wonderful things. And a computer gives us access to so much of that world we never had before.

I became a political junkie as the election kicked into high gear and wrote about politics almost exclusively when I first came to OS. It was immediate and timely and fit my mind set at that point because I could not concentrate on any one thing very long.

And I love to read novels and learned to fill a lot of the winter with that. I upgraded my internet access to cable high speed and joined Netflix so I could watch on the computer movies or TV series that I missed. The streaming of movies is something I enjoy.

And I have learned to throw myself into whatever I am doing. I let them involve my consciousness so there is no room for bad thoughts. And if the bad thoughts try to take over, I concentrate on the good.

Now that it is over a year since my replacement has come to the last church I served I want to begin to reconnect with my friends from the church by phone, listening to their joys and troubles, and when I can, let them know that they are loved.

My medical issues won't let me go to church anymore but I can still care about them and pray for them. I missed doing that and now that our new pastor is firmly established in the position I look forward to doing that again.

All these things seem trivial. But they are not. I am determined to believe my faith and to practice it. It has gotten me through many rough years and through much pain and sadness. It is literally my salvation day to day. And it drives thoughts of death away.

But I have to be an active participant in that. I can't sit back and let my idle brain just fill up with all the fears and self pity I could so easily dwell on. I have to exercise my will power and focus on the good, on living this day the best I can. One day at a time; one hour at a time if necessary. That is how our lives come to us and we need to recognize that fact.

The older I get, and now with this illness, I am finally coming to realize why so many old people that I visited did not feel that panic I felt when I was 50, even as I sat by their bedsides when they were terminally ill and said prayers for them even as they died. They had come to terms with their lives, and, yes, with their death long before I did in my own life. They were looking forward to going home to be in the closer presence of God.

They were still human, still had some doubts. But their faith held and they were willing and ready to take the risk of faith: that what they believed was true. And I am increasingly willing to do that as well. Had anyone asked me 20 years ago if that would ever be possible I would have said "no."

But I know now that our doubts do not in any way affect God's ability to bring us to a beautiful home beyond the bounds of this mortal life, a home so beautiful we cannot even comprehend it. God's promises to us are not changed or even shaken by what we think or what we feel about death. It is what God thinks that counts. And he loves us in spite of our doubts. Paul says that "Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus...." I believe that. I did not always.


In the end, each one of us has to decide: are we willing to give these wonderful days we have now over to death? Is that what life should be about? Are we willing, as I was for a time, to let fear and death steal these days that God has given to us?

Few things in life are easy. Many are incredibly hard. Some, like fear, are literally paralyzing. We have to fight the fear. Fight it by doing things we enjoy. We need to spend time with others. even when we would rather just curl up in bed with our fears. We need to involve ourselves in helping others. Have we forgotten that there are dozens of things we have never done, places we have never seen, people we have neglected who would love to spend time with us?

We need to recognize that no matter how bad it seems, there are millions who have it far, far worse than we do.


The vast majority of old people who have faith fear death very infrequently. They are too busy living to dwell on something that they know is coming and can't do anything about. And those who are completely worn out physically have no desire to stick around in a failing, often pain wracked body when they know that God has something far better awaiting them beyond that portal to our eternal home.

Doubt and fear with always be with us. The key is not that we feel those things, but that we have the faith and hope to overcome them.

Fear of death can lead to paralysis, ruining us, killing us hour by hour, bringing death into our lives, stealing our life long before this physical life is over. I pray we shall resist that temptation with all that is in us. And with God's help we can.

Blessings and Peace,

Monte

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Motorcycling Memories: Oh Deer!, Eight; The Accident, IV

First published, Open Salon, MARCH 3, 2010 5:29PM


Photobucket

[The University of Virginia Medical Center at Charlottesville. A teaching hospital with schools of Medicine and Nursing and Level One Trauma Center. Stock photo.]

This series is for Mishima666, who has waited longer than I promised he would.

The tease: June 24, 2005 Day Planner entry, after the fact: "Hit deer - totaled bike - ended at Trauma Unit, UVA Hosp, Charlottesville, 2 1/2 days - bad scene all around.

What you may have missed:

Part One: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/19/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_part_one

Part Two: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/20/motorcycle_memories_oh_deer_part_two

Part Three: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/21/motorcycle_memories_oh_deer_part_three

Part Four: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/22/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_part_four

Part Five: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/23/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_part_five_the_accident

Part Six: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/25/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_six_the_accident_ii

Part Seven: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/03/01/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_seven_the_accident_iii

This is the final post in this series.

While I was not aware of it, the doctors must have been weaning the pain meds because I was beginning to feel a lot more pain once I was moved to the step down monitoring room, and I never again got to be watch the docs work on me while I was on the ceiling and they were on the floor. I kind of missed that.

I fell into a troubled sleep after they laid me on the bed, still on the board. I had the beginning of what would be with me for several weeks: weird, troubling dreams that caused me to wake in a sweat but which I could not remember other than they were dark and frightening.

A few hours later I woke and desperately had to pee. The nurse came in and said the catheter was working. But she took a look at the setup and said that the catheter was too small for the amount of fluids they were pumping through me. So I had a choice: pull this one and put in a larger one for some relief or live with the feeling of a constantly full bladder.

What a choice. Like most choices in the hospital it was no real choice at all. But she was pretty gentle when she pulled the smaller one and put in a much larger one. That hurt like hell for an instant but in minutes I felt relief.

I then insisted that they take me off of the spine board and the neck brace but the night doctor refused, saying that 'your spines are not cleared," meaning that radiology had not signed off.

I gave up arguing for then, had them elevate the head of the bed and fell back into a troubled sleep. Sue slept on the floor, exhausted. The next day we got them to bring in a roll away bed for her to sleep in.

In the morning, Saturday, I raised hell again about the board and brace and they went into the same song and dance. Finally, after they left I had Sue loosen the neck brace and the board straps without telling them and that helped some.

The Chief Resident of the step down unit came in around noon and I started my complaint all over again. The same answer came back: they were waiting for the Chief Radiologist to "clear my spines."

I blew up: "Don't tell me that in a 600 bed hospital with a Level One Trauma Center only one person in the entire staff has the authority to make that decision, and he isn't even in the building and may not be back until Monday! That is insane and can't be right! I want to speak to the Trauma Chief now!"

About an hour later, after I had told Sue to take off the neck brace, the Chief Resident came back in and said that 'your spines are cleared." If he noticed I was not wearing the neck brace he didn't say so. He and a nurse undid the straps, laid me on the side and removed the board. What a relief.

However, it was at that point that I realized that the outsides of both thighs, but mostly on the right side, were totally numb. I told Sue but did not tell the docs or I would have been right back on the board and sent back for more scans. I was and am convinced that it was laying immobilized on the board for 24 hours that caused the numbness. It took almost a year to get complete feeling in those areas, but they did recover.

By now the hematoma was really starting to hurt all the time and was beginning to harden on the edges. Within three days it would be hard as a rock. I was told that the rock hard feeling was "normal" and that it would soften in two or three weeks and be absorbed back into my body.

They gave me a dispenser button to push on my pain meds that afternoon and I quickly learned that it only dispensed what it wanted to dispense regardless of how many times you pushed it. So the pain in my shoulder, right big toe (which had a compression fracture of the joint and would forever be frozen immobile), and the hematoma just continued to mount.

Meanwhile I started the game of picking out the road rash gravel in my chest as it worked its way to the surface. This would go on for months.

Late Saturday afternoon they told me that I could go home the next afternoon if all continued to go well, and they saw no reason it would not. But how would we get home? We decided to ask my best friend back home, Jeff Stocker, to come and get us with my car and motorcycle trailer so we could get Sue's bike home and do it all in one long trip.

We called and as only a friend would do, he said "Glad to do it." Another angel, but this time not in disguise. We knew that about Jeff all along. I told him where to find the key to get into the house and garage, where to find the extra car key in the house, and how to hook up the trailer and its lights.

We expected him to arrive late Sunday afternoon, but he surprised us, left later that Saturday and stayed overnight in WVA, arriving just a bit after noon on Sunday.

Meanwhile, Saturday night I had to "go number two" and they gave me a bed pan. It was impossible and I gave up. I told them I wanted to be able to walk to the bathroom. They said "no" so when they left I had Sue lift my IV pole out of the socket on the bed and walk with me to the bathroom in the room. That worked. I was very unsteady on my feet, my broken toe hurt like hell, but it was worth it.

After Jeff arrived on Sunday and went with Sue to get Sue's bike loaded on the trailer I started putting pressure on the docs to release me immediately so we could get home that evening. Well, the same drill happened. The Chief Resident of the step down was off duty and they needed his approval to let me go. I went ballistic again. And the result was the same. Within an hour I was asked to sign the release.

I was getting the feeling that they were just as happy to see me go as I was to get out of there. I have always wondered how long someone would have to stay in a place like that if they were the quiet, mousy type.

When we started to get me dressed Sue noticed that I had blotchy rash areas pretty much all over and blushing areas that came and went. That would go on for weeks and we blamed it on the morphine getting out of my system.

But we learned when we got the bill from the hospital that when I arrived at the Trauma Center they had switched me from morphine to fentanyl, an opioid that is 75-100 times more powerful than morphine. And they gave me another opioid to take for the pain when I got home.

So for about a month I was still reacting to the opioids. Interestingly, I have taken opioids since and have had no adverse reactions to them. It must have been the strength of the dose that passed a threshold for me.

We got home Sunday night, Sue and Jeff taking turns driving, and nothing felt so good as sleeping in my own bed.

The next few weeks were painful. I continued to run a low grade fever for about a month; continued to have the blushing of my face, chest, buttocks, and legs; and, about ten days out started having my feet swell up and turn red in the evenings. Because they quit doing that after a couple of weeks I associated it with the opioids and perhaps it was. But it also could have been unrelated.

In any case we will never know but it could also have been the beginning of my erythromelalgia because I continued, off and on, to have the same phenomena happen after a few of the long, all day, rides we took when touring. The erythromelalgia began in earnest almost three years later in the Spring of 2008 resulting in my forced retirement for medical reasons. It continues today, with at least daily flares every night.

After about three weeks the hematoma was still the same size, still hard as a rock, and had turned to a fluorescent rainbow of colors. We decided to go to a local surgeon I like and have him take a look at it. He too had never seen a hematoma that large, agreed that it would soften at some point, and told me to come in when it started to do that.

At about the five week mark it started softening rapidly and I went in. He said it would take years to get that much blood absorbed so he drew off two huge 6" by 1 1/2" vials of the blood and told me to come back in a week. I told him we were going out of town for a week, so make it two.

When I went back in two weeks he drew off another vial of blood. At the next visit he said that the rest would eventually absorb, but that there would always be clusters of necrotized tissue in the area that would never soften. After almost five years you can still feel those lumps and there is still a tattoo of darker skin where the hematoma was.

Meanwhile, I was told that I should not ride a motorcycle for at least three months. After three weeks I saw an ad in the paper for a 1984 Honda Nighthawk 550 and insisted that we go look at is as a possible interim bike until I decided what kind of more permanent replacement bike to get.

Sue drove me to see it and it was a well kept bike at a good price, but my foot was still in a walking strap on cast and I could not shift. So I talked her into taking it for a test ride.

She could barely get her feet down because of the seat height, but, good trooper that she is, she rode it and said it was fine. We bought it, came back the next day with the trailer, and hauled it to a repair shop for new tires and brake pads, and a complete checkup, carb clean and synchronization, etc.

We got the bike back in a week. So, one month from the accident I was riding locally again, taking my foot out of the walking boot and gingerly putting on my boots. I stuck to the wide four lane roads.

Six weeks from the date of the accident I put a new wind screen on it, and added some old saddlebags. We packed up our seat bags and tank bags, filled the saddlebags with rain gear, tools and sweatshirts and took off for a 1500 mile tour of the western Lake Michigan towns in Michigan, above Holland.

We had a great time. Both bikes ran great. The little 550 cc Honda ran like a top, cruised easily at 70-75 on the interstates, and was an all around good bike. I was in considerable pain the whole trip but covered that as much as possible with Ibuprophen and decided that the joy of riding was far greater than the pain.

But I had nagging fears about deer for a long time. Going to Michigan was not bad because there were many fewer deer than around here. But our hilly, timbered, home county, Tuscarawas, is the deer capital of this part of the country. Every year more deer are harvested here than in any other county in Ohio.

Our deer are known to be some of the largest white tail deer in the country. Mountain deer like the one that ran into my bike are much smaller than our deer and crashes here, even with cars and pickups, can be deadly, and are.

So I was a bit paranoid that entire remaining season, even though I rode almost every day. The paranoia was particularly bad when I rode the narrow back roads in these hills that I love. But every time I rode I insisted that I challenge myself to ride those kinds of roads at least for part of the ride.

Little by little I got over my fears and started enjoying the freedom and sense of oneness that I have had all of my life with my bike, God's beautiful world, and the joy that is riding.

It took a season but by the next Spring I had arrived at a "new normal." Nothing would ever be the same, physically or emotionally. I had been through a lot and come out with far less damage than I could have.

I had endured a lot of pain that I thought would be the worst I would experience. I did not know then that the pain I felt would be small compared to the pain I feel every day now from my erythromelalgia and the related neuropathies and vasculitis associated with it.

My shoulder still aches now and then and gets easily strained when I am lifting something, the toe is still frozen and is larger than the other toe, and the hematoma has left its necrotic lumps, scars and discolorations. And I still am especially alert for deer when I ride.

But at age 71 I have learned a lot too. I have learned that as you age "new normals" are part of the way things work. I have learned that we have a choice: we can whine about it or we can get on with life and do the best we can with what we have to work with.

I have learned that there are angels in disguise everywhere in all situations of our lives and that if we don't see them it is because we are not looking. I have learned that there are competent people who care and who dedicate their lives to professions that allow that caring to be expressed.

I have learned that the reason God gave me my wife was so that I would learn that we are never whole until we can wholly give ourselves to another. And, I have learned that God sends guardian angels to take care of fools and Englishmen, just like the saying says. And I am glad that I qualify for that service.

Most of all, I have learned that life is precious, not to be taken as something owed to us or as a random act of chance, but as a sacred gift to be cherished and to be lived to the fullest.

Thank all of you for reading this series.

Monte

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Motorcycling Memories: Oh Deer!, Seven; The Accident, III

First published on Open Salon, MARCH 1, 2010 3:03PM


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[The Pegasus Emergency Air Ambulance from the University of Virginia Medical Center. Stock Photo.]

This series is for Mishima666, who has waited longer than I promised he would.

The tease: June 24, 2005 Day Planner entry, after the fact: "Hit deer - totaled bike - ended at Trauma Unit, UVA Hosp, Charlottsville, 2 1/2 days - bad scene all around.


What you may have missed:

Part One: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/19/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_part_one

Part Two: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/20/motorcycle_memories_oh_deer_part_two

Part Three: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/21/motorcycle_memories_oh_deer_part_three

Part Four: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/22/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_part_four

Part Five: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/23/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_part_five_the_accident

Part Six: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/25/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_six_the_accident_ii


There are "systems" everywhere. But most of us do not wish to be in the grip of a system wherein we have little to no control. But we often are. And one of the most invasive systems regarding control of our own lives is the medical system. We like to think that we are at least "partners" with our doctors, and that we have some real say in our treatment. And, often we can have that partnership if we insist on it and the physician isn't too arrogant. Usually such partnership cooperation is in non-emergency situations.

Emergency situations are different. Often your doctor is not even available, or defers to specialists. Still, a good medical team will usually keep you informed about what is going on with their treatment of you. They may actually ask you if you agree. Of course, by the time you are in the hospital they will have already had you sign an agreement to do what they have to do.

And the truth is that we are highly unlikely to disagree with their proposed course of action because they always hold the trump card: "He HAS to have this done now." The implication behind language like that is if you don't do it you may die or you may be seriously incapacitated.


From the moment the EMTs arrived I was in the hands of a competent, efficient medical system and, while I protested at first and even later, often and loud, in the end Sue and I always decided to go along with the big decisions. We violated their rules and procedures only when they were not looking. But, mostly, the system had me from start to finish.

Fortunately in my case this was a good system and the outcome was far better than had I been in some medical systems that are not so competent and not so caring. And there were angels in disguise even in this large system. But they were also ultimately making all the important decisions. I held no illusions about that.

I was alert as they wheeled me out from the Bath Hospital to the chopper and put me in it. That is to say that I thought I was alert. Later, at home, reflecting on the entire next 2 1/2 days I was not so sure that was even remotely true. The morphine did more than cause an allergic reaction, it was confusing my judgment even thought I did not know it. Of course it was also doing what it was primarily supposed to do: reduce my pain. I felt little actual pain on the flight to the UVA Medical center or during the tests.

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[Pegasus Air Ambulance, close up. Stock photo.]

The chopper was left running while they were loading me in. There was little space in the chopper. Sue could not come with us. At first that upset me. But I was quickly starting to mellow out from the morphine and that worry slipped my mind. The pilot was already in the chopper. The Pegasus EMT got in and the local EMTs handed me in, strapped to the spine board and with the neck collar in place. I was placed head forward and the EMT was in a jump seat to the side of me.

The pilot and the EMT wore headphones so they could talk to each other and were in constant communication with the Emergency Trauma Center in Charlottesville. The EMT freed my right arm from the board and handed me earplugs. I could not get them in right and asked for some Kleenex. I stuffed those in my ears and that worked pretty well.

We took off and there was a window in the top of the chopper through which I could see out. I yelled a conversation with the EMT for a while. When we got to altitude the EMT told me that they could not fly directly over the mountains to the hospital because there were clouds too close to the tops and they needed more clearance. They said we would fly south to a place where there were fewer, lower, mountains, and then cut across there into the Shenandoah valley. They said it might add 15 minutes to the ride, for a total of about 40 minutes. I didn't care. My fear of flying was turned off. Mr. Morphine was hard at work.

When I next looked out the window in the top of the chopper I could see the mountains, the valleys, the houses, and roads, with cars moving on them. I watched us pass over small clouds now and then, and saw the sun break through. I saw everything. I saw the interstate, which I know was I-64.

We turned east when we got to it and followed it for a while, then cut north in a valley, came over a low mountain and turned north again at I-81 for a few miles. We cut over a lower area of the Blue Ridge Parkway, swung east diagonally to Charlottesville, flew over the urban area for a short while and landed at the helipad at the Medical Center. It was a nice trip with only a few bumps as we caught up and down drafts crossing mountains.

It was a good ride and I enjoyed watching the ground from that height. The only odd thing about it is that I was on my back looking UP! And I knew it at some level but found it not strange at all, only interesting.

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[The University of Virginia Medical Center at Charlottesville. A teaching hospital with schools of Medicine and Nursing and Level One Trauma Center. Stock photo.]

Oddly, I remember nothing about being carried out of the chopper and going down to the Emergency Trauma Unit. I do remembering talking to some doctors, one of whom said he was the Chief Resident. He said I would meet the Trauma Chief later. Meanwhile I was going to have some more tests.

He looked at the hematoma, which was now about 6" in diameter and had raised over my chest to over an inch high. He palpated it and I about went through the roof. The morphine was wearing off. He said that he would have the nurse give me something IV to take the edge off the pain. I said, "Good. The sooner the better." The nurse came in shortly and added another bag to my IV stand.

The resident came back, introduced me to a cardiologist who hooked up some leads to some round conductors that were already on my chest. I don't remember when they were put on, but it had to be at the Bath hospital. These leads connected to a monitor I carried with me, which in turn sent a signal to a monitoring station somewhere in the building.

Next a phlebotimist came in and took some blood and left. They would end up taking blood every two or three hours for the entire stay. An orderly came in and said that he was going to take me for some tests. What I did not know until I got the summary of my bill, was that they did all the same tests that were done at Bath, primarily CAT scans and Xrays, plus some ultrasounds. Test, test, and test again.

They first wheeled me down to get some CAT scans. I remember being apprehensive about doing that because I am claustrophobic. But one of the technicians said that this was not a narrow tube like an MRI, but was a "donut" that was less than 2' deep and he would run me through it and back out before he started so I could get a sense of how it worked. He did. And I realized, as I had with the chopper flight, that I was not actually afraid. The IV med the Chief Resident prescribed was workng.

The technicians had placed me up on the pad on the machine when someone came in and told them that there had been a really bad automobile accident and that this CAT scan machine and all of the others were needed for that. Apparently they had decided I was stable enough so they wheeled me into the hall. They said I would not have to wait very long.

That was cool to me and I said "OK." What I really wanted to do anyway was to try to figure out how they could work on me with me on the ceiling and them on the floor. And I wanted to know how they managed to get all that equipment nailed to the ceiling. Nor could I figure out what kept me from falling down on them.

Before I could work that out they wheeled me back in and did the scans and sent me to have my ultrasounds done and then the XRays. I was fascinated that the entire Trauma Center was set up the same way as the CAT scan area! The entire place was upside down. But I still could not figure out how they did it. I was having a great time pondering the design of the place and the amazing ability of these doctors and staff to do all they did while I was hanging from the ceiling! There must be some advantage to doing it that way but I couldn't think what that would be.


Eventually they hauled me back to a curtained off room in the trauma emergency area. Shortly thereafter Sue showed up. I was really glad to see her. She looked tired and worried. And I was starting to feel a lot of pain. I needed that nurse to put some more of that no pain juice in the IV.

Interestingly, when I realized I was in pain I also noticed that they had set up in this part of the Trauma Center normally. I was on the spine board, on a gurney, and I was on the floor, not the ceiling. So was Sue. I wondered why they did this part of the Center that way. But I never said anything to Sue about it. I was more interested to know where she had been.

I had told her back at the Bath County Hospital that I thought she ought to ride her bike down to Covington and rent a car, leaving the bike there. It turns out she did nothing of the sort. She, like me, can be a bit adventurous. In this case it also took a certain amount of courage.

She somehow packed up everything onto her bike and rode some 3 hours to the hospital. Now that was not easy. First there was a lot of stuff, which she managed to compress in a black plastic lawn bag she got from the hospital custodian. Then she used bungie cords to tie all of that over her luggage rack and the back seat. She got directions from the State Trooper, squeezed herself between the bundle of stuff and the handlebars and took off.

Neither she nor I had ever ridden the roads she was about to ride. She crossed three mountains, negotiated a long canyon, rode a long valley, bypassed a middle sized city, and entered Charlottesville on I-64. She didn't see the sign the Trooper said she would see saying "Trauma Center," and rode past the Medical Center exit. (It turned out that there was no sign saying "Trauma Center.") She got off at a hospital sign, and stopped at a gas station near another hospital on the east side of town.

They said there was no trauma center at that hospital and sent her back west on I-64 to another highway going north. She went back, found the northbound highway, but was still looking for a sign to the Trauma Center and went too far again. It was in the middle of rush hour, and traffic was backed up. So she got off at the next exit, crept along the shoulder hoping to see a stopped car where someone had their window down.

She saw a guy on a motorcycle and asked him where they would take someone in a helicopter who was in a motorcycle accident. He said that it was too complicated to give her directions from there, but that he lead her there. Yet another angel in disguise! She followed him through a bunch of back streets to the Trauma Center. She thanked him. He rode off and she came in to find me.

She found me in the Emergency patient area. My tests were over. She talked to me a while and then moved her bike to long term parking. A sign in the hospital long term parking garage said "No Motorcycles." She ignored the sign and parked there anyway. See what I mean?

She had spent at least an hour trying to negotiate Friday evening rush hour traffic in an urban area she had never been in before. And, she had done this without riding with me in the lead. That is a big deal. Just ask anyone who has ridden a bike. This was her first "solo" ride, and normally first solo rides are not like this one. As the good ole boys down here in the village say, "She done good."


After she came back, the Trauma Center Chief came in, introduced himself, and told us that I now seemed fairly stable and that I would be moved to a room in a unit where trauma patients could be monitored carefully. I asked him what all the tests were about and whether there was anything permanently bad they had found. He said that there were three main things they were concerned about.

First was whether I had any previously undiscovered trauma to my head. Second was whether there were problems with my spine from the crash. They found nothing to indicate either, but the Chief Radiologist had not yet read my results, and therefore, had not "cleared my spines." I should have asked him what that meant because it was a term I would come to hate.

And third, and the most problematic, was whether the hemotoma was not only on the outside of my chest but whether it was leaking blood inward beyond my ribs. That could be big trouble because it could put pressure on my heart and/or the blood vessels that ran from and to the heart. He said the tests did not indicate any damage beyond bruised ribs, heavily bruised muscle and significant crushing and tearing of the same.

He said that the hematoma had continued to grow while I was there, but in the last hour and a half had begun to stabilize. It appeared to them that the artery or arteries that had split open from the impact were sealing. He said that this was particularly good news because they did not have to do surgery to dig around for the sources of the bleeding.

He mentioned that it was the largest chest hematoma anyone there had seen. By that point it was over 8" wide by 7" long and stuck up 2" high on the normal surface of my chest, with more damage and bleeding done between the surface and the ribs. Well, when I do things I do them big time!

They wanted to monitor it constantly for "a while," maybe a couple of days, to be sure the bleeding had stopped and would stay stopped. I only wanted three things: some more IV pain killer and to get out of the neck brace and off the spine board. He sent the nurse for the pain killer; she came with a new IV bag, and I forgot about the spine board and the neck brace shortly after.

They wheeled me down a long, long hallway to an elevator. Sue was by my side. It felt really good that she was there. I was proud of her solo ride, and irritated that she did it because I don't want to think of the trouble she could have gotten into had she had an accident. But the meds were doing their thing and it was hard for me to concentrate enough to continue being irritated.

We went up an elevator to the 6th floor of one of the Medical Center buildings. That floor was dedicated to trauma patients and had all the high tech monitoring devices you can think of.

All I could think of was how they had managed to set up the Trauma Center so that the patients were on the ceiling and the doctors were on the floor. But it still didn't seem either odd or unusual.

They wheeled me into a room, picked me up on the spine board and laid it on the bed. I was just glad all the testing was over and never thought about them not taking me off of the board or removing the neck brace. That would come later.



END OF PART SEVEN

Next: Another catheter? Will I ever get off this spine board? Cheating the rules. What about getting out of here? Why all the continued rashes? Numb thighs? How will we get home? Going home. Post trauma problems. Local surgeon. Let's buy another bike. Fears. And, finally, finding a "new normal."