GLITTERY

 Okay, let's get this straight, right off. I'm not much of a glitter girl. I tend toward warm, soft, and comforting textiles and surroundings. Not that I didn't once wear something glittery. I think it was a blue formal my mother sewed for me when I was in high school orchestra. In those days, girls wore formals for concerts. (The tradition of all-black concert dresses hadn't come yet to my high school.) Since I didn't go to the school dances, that was my chance to “dress up.”

 But that was then. Even when I got married at 34, my home-sewn wedding dress was simple—just satin. No sequins, pearls, or anything flashy. So when my husband recently brought home from a yard sale a big can of sequins, beads and other decorative crafts, I said, “How much?” Meaning, “What price do you want to ask on Craigslist?' He knows I'm not much into crafts and saw a re-sell possibility there. A few weeks later, somebody did call and buy the whole can.

 My “coolness” toward glitz probably reveals a lot about my personality. No frills. Practical. A few little wants, but basically okay with the “basics.” I'm a minimalist for makeup. Utilitarian haircut. All-purpose clothes that date back years (if not decades). This quote from Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice resonates with me: “All that glitters [or “glistens”] is not gold.” Some think he picked up the phrase from a 12^th century French monk or from the fabled Aesop of the same century. It showed up again in the 1878 Gilbert & Sullivan comic opera HMS Pinafore. But it expresses a universal truth: that looks aren't everything.

 Even the Bible has its version of this. In the Old Testament, Israel was itching for a king. Its judges weren't good enough. Israel wanted a monarch like the pagan nations around it. The winner of Israel's “beauty contest” for its first king was Saul, who was described as “an impressive young man without equal among the Israelites—a head taller than any of the others” (1 Samuel 9:2). He didn't even know there was a contest to anoint a king, and when his time came was out chasing runaway donkeys. Of course, the rest of the story was that Saul descended into decadence and ineptitude.  Finally, God chose a new king—an unlikely youth who tended sheep and played the harp. But David (unlike Saul) showed that he was a man after God's heart (1 Samuel 15:16).

I applaud the God-fearing youth pastors and Sunday school teachers, noble Christian teachers (especially in public schools!), and other adult role models who augment (or, sadly, must replace) the life modeling of parents and other family members. Our culture tends to exalt the glitter: the music and media stars, TV luminaries, beauty queens and stellar athletes with little second thought to their spiritual fiber. They may have the “glitz,” but it won't sustain them their entire lives. What Isaiah said centuries ago still rings true: “These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Isaiah 29:13).

 The apostle Peter saw the same problem, and offered this non-glitzy alternative lifestyle for Christ-followers:

Live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing. (1 Peter 3:8-9)

 Such a lifestyle isn't very “glitzy,” but it's genuine. And that's the way it should be.

BETTER TOGETHER

“We’re better together”—throughout the coronavirus pandemic, we’ve repeatedly heard this phrase. I even thought of it one day an errand took us to a wooded area and I noticed a wildflower that illustrated the power of “together.”  I’m guessing this is yarrow. I snapped photos of “loner” yarrow blooms, but the mature plants with clumped flowers were “prettier together.” On the way home, I thought how we're also encouraged to be more "alone" in practicing "safety distance" to prevent spread of the coronavirus. Yet that comes with an emotional price. We’re “better together” when we have “community.”

As Ecclesiastes 4:9-10* put it: “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!” Yes, “better together.”  Reaching back further in human history, when God gave Adam a help-mate, Eve, He created the first community—two who became three and more, and billions through history.

Sadly, sin messed up the concept. But God’s original “better together” (and better with Him as the binding material) never ceased to be...better.

Probably like anyone reading this blog, I struggle with the truth that sometimes we’re better apart. When persistent sin darkens a personality, we may be better “apart” until that person makes a 180-degree turn in his or her life and faith and seeks reconciliation.  We can’t be truly “better together” until our goals and relationships conform to God’s original plan of harmony. Peter put it in a nutshell in his letter to ancient churches:

Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble.  Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called. (1 Peter 3:8-9)

These are powerful words in light of the “evil with evil” and “insult with insult” that burned across our country in recent weeks.

Yet even with restricted public contact, “better together” is possible. Bless in creative ways, like a note or E-mail. One day when I was feeling a bit blue, two lifter-upper notes came by mail. (God has great timing in moving people to do something!) Or call somebody and say, “I’ve just been thinking about you and want to tell you how much you’re appreciated.”  Thank workers who must work. Even a little bloom of encouragement here and there can clump together in a beautiful bouquet. Like that forest yarrow—okay alone, better together.


(*Post script--a humorous aside on the Ecclesiastes verse.  Many years ago I attended a church in Fullerton, Calif., where I sang in a large, wonderful church choir. We practiced for months to present a sacred concert for hundreds of people. Our conductor at that time was losing weight, and constantly hiking up his trousers during rehearsals. Before the concert, we presented him with a gift: a pair of suspenders, and a card with that verse suggesting two suspenders were better than none. Oh, church humor. Forgive us.)