Rex M Rogers - Discerning What Is Best

Discerning What Is Best
with Dr. Rex M. Rogers

Details: Written by: Rex M. Rogers; Published: 14 October 2010

The successful rescue of Chile’s 33 miners late last evening is an all-too-rare good news story, this one of global proportions. Trapped a half-mile underground for 69 days, the fact their rescue was played out live on worldwide television made it even more dramatic.

The miners’ resilience and their families’ emotional welcome were moving illustrations of human resolve. The crew’s outstanding leadership and well-organized activities underground for the past two stressful months were inspiring. Both the responsiveness and effectiveness of the Chilean government were enough to give one hope that government really can get it right, sometimes.

And three cheers to the rescuers, including particularly the six who descended to the miners’ chamber to help them come back safely to the surface. Needless to say, the world wishes the miners well in their post-traumatic re-entry and healing process.

Of course there are those who find ways to muddy the story. Sure, the miners are human and they’re not necessarily all stand-up guys when it comes to family and fidelity. So with 33 men involved it’s not surprising to discover there may be both wives and mistresses in the mix. What’s more discouraging, though, is to see various world media trying to make some kind of cheap reality program out of whatever moral mess they can find or agitate.

Still, the story is a great one from which books will and should be written. These books will bear some similarity to the story of Sir Ernest Shackleton’s ill-fated 1914-17 expedition and ship, Endurance, which was trapped in Antarctic pack ice and crushed. Shackleton led his 27 men through extreme hardship to safety with no lives lost, earning for the captain, though mostly after his death, heroic status.

The extraordinary efforts put forth to rescue 33 miners reminds the world once again of the ultimate value of each human life. Everyone matters, everyone deserves dignity and liberty.

There are leadership lessons, as well as disaster prevention and response lessons to be learned here. There’s fodder for fictional plot twists and compelling documentaries. There’re religious and political morals to this story.

Here’s hoping these lessons are learned, stories are told, and these Chilean men go on to other achievements and an appreciation for a gracious God.

*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Dr. Rogers or read more commentary on current issues and events at www.rexmrogers.com or follow Dr. Rogers at www.twitter.com/RexMRogers.

Details: Written by: Rex M. Rogers; Published: 13 October 2010

High school in Small Town was a series of highs and lows. Really highs and really lows. Or maybe this had more to do with being teenagers than high school.

Looking back one could say our ups and downs were not all that significant, but they seemed so to us. This was true in studies, sports, romance, and even teachers.

In my time in Small Town we benefitted from outstanding elementary and junior high teachers, a whole list of them in the day when teachers took their professional calling seriously. Every teacher to whom I was assigned from 1^st Grade to 8^th Grade did a remarkable job of helping us slay the dragons of ignorance. In most ways they may have been ordinary people, but they were in our lives extraordinary teachers because they taught and they expected us to learn.

Changing culture changed all that, and not for the better. We got the first inklings of this in high school. By the time we arrived in high school waves of education reform and counter culture were just beginning to weaken secondary schools. Teachers were still in authority and students were still expected to “obey.” But this was a quaint practice, one undermined a little more each month with news of university student sit-ins.

It wasn’t long before the academic establishment rejected the idea one could know truth about anything. All things are relative, the postmodernists said. The logical conclusion of this illogical idea is that nothing matters, particularly religion. Students weren’t long in picking up on the “nothing matters” part and education turned into a river of hedonism, narcissism, and nihilism that still inundates it today. Very soon, it was “Make Love, Not War,” “Flower Power,” and civil disobedience.

But in high school we were still blissfully oblivious to much of this. And we were blessed with a few excellent teachers, no question—Mrs. Burns, Mrs. Crevey, Mr. Farley, to name a few. But we had our share of bummers too. Having spent a career working in academia and knowing what I know now about education I can say without fear of exaggeration that at least four, maybe five, of these people should have been sent to find their real calling in life—it clearly wasn’t teaching.

I’ve mentioned before the broken-nosed former prison guard who masqueraded for a time as our Physical Education teacher. Then there was the Health and Physical Education teacher who mostly got by on charisma. We laughed a lot but didn’t learn much in his classes.

Our nominee for Inept Teacher of the Year would have to go to our Physics teacher. He was a former Presbyterian minister and if he gave as much to his ministry as he did to teaching I understand why people didn’t keep him in the pulpit.

There were about 8 guys and 1 girl in the class. We were all college prep kids so our grades were good and perhaps this is another reason the teacher let us off the hook. Mostly, though, I think he was treading water.

For two periods in Physics class, that’s a good chunk of the day, we did one of two things, or both. Every day four or five guys would gather around this girl, one who was attractive, smart, talented, and highly popular, and basically vie for her attention for two periods. I liked her too and joined the group a few times. But I can remember thinking I didn’t want to be part of the herd, so I chose not to be.

Mostly I played chess. That’s right, chess. For two periods every day our entire senior year a few guys, my friend Larry Yoho being one of them, and I held Physics class chess tournaments. We got to be pretty good at chess but didn’t learn much about physics.

Ridiculous. I look back now and think about the wasted academic time. I wonder why the principal never showed up and how the teacher got away with it. I wonder how a teacher as lazy and unmotivated as this fellow survived in the system. But there we were, flirting on one end of the room, playing chess on the other.

I mentioned Mr. Farley and I should give him his due. In my estimation he was under-rated as a teacher by his peers and his students. This lack of appreciation stemmed more, I think, from his quirky personality and mannerisms than from his teaching. But he was, in a word, an excellent teacher.

Mr. Farley lectured every day, required us to take notes, and administered challenging tests. He asked us questions in class and expected us to know the answers. He clearly loved his subject and was nothing if not diligent in his pedagogy. I sat in both his U.S. History class my junior year and his U.S. Government class my senior year. In both I learned a great deal and consider this experience one influence in my later opting in college to pursue both a Social Science and History major and a teaching certificate.

Mr. Farley nominated me for an odd-sounding award called the “I Dare You Award,” which I earned, probably in large part due to his affirmation. He presented it to me at graduation and, though the name is funny, the idea was to think big, think bigger in terms of ones potential achievements and contributions. It’s a great concept, another large lesson in a Small Town upbringing.

Details: Written by: Rex M. Rogers; Published: 12 October 2010

Given the air travel I’ve been doing I think I have a reasonable sense of what’s not happening in customer relations on America’s airlines. In short, customer relations are MIA.

Take today. I arrived at the airport to discover that Continental had rebooked my flight from Philadelphia to Newark as a train ride. That’s right, a train. No one contacted me to see if I approved this change. It was just made. So here I am at Philly International and the train station is downtown.

No problem, right? Just rebook. This I tried to do until the Continental agent said, “I can’t change the ticket. It belongs to Delta.” Even though Delta and Continental are not part of the same airline cooperative, still, mysteriously having something to do with Orbitz, the ticket belonged to Delta because I’d flown to the City of Brotherly Love on that airline.

A long walk through the ticketing area brought me to Delta. The agent, a woman maybe in her mid-20s, says, and I kid you not, “What do you want?” I resist telling her what I’m thinking and simply explain my need to rebook a jet, not a train. She immediately appears flummoxed, taps innumerable keys, and challenges my interpretation of the issue until I produce paperwork proving my view. After more rolling of the eyes, exaggerated body movements, and looks of disgust at other agents—not at me—I’m not sure she ever made eye contact with me—she tells me she can’t do this and the ticket belongs to Continental.

I show her my paperwork once again demonstrating otherwise and she calls in a manager, a woman who was a bit more mature but never intervened in any way in how her employee conducted herself. After more calls, keys, and denials it could be done, the young agent finds the right page in the system. Now she challenges my drivers’ license’s validity—I had just gone to the Secretary of State’s Office for renewal and the license had a paper stapled to it. My new one awaits me at home. Finally, I get her past this and she completes the work, prints new boarding passes, and slaps them—yes, slaps them—on the counter in front of me. Never once did she say “Thanks” or “Sorry for the confusion” or for that matter anything civil.

When I get to Detroit I discover the agent had put me on a later flight when an earlier one was available. I rebooked again but paid for this by an eventual delay in the flight and a wait at Grand Rapids for my luggage to come in on the original still later flight.

When my bag didn’t arrive in Grand Rapids I approached the Delta desk where three agents were standing working over another bag. Fine, I waited. Then one agent left without looking at me, the other agent didn’t acknowledge my presence and finally wondered off, and the third continued to ignore me. Finally she looked up and asked if I had a bag claim.

Not every agent is like these. One fellow today called me “Mr. Rogers,” smiled, said, “Have a good flight,” and in every way acted professionally. But too many act otherwise. Too many give you attitude, suggesting whatever the problem, it’s clearly your fault, not the airline’s and certainly not theirs.

I’ve written before that American airlines need to learn about customer service from international airlines. It’s not that they have to spend a lot of money. Southwest Airlines consistently ranks at the top of customer satisfaction and it’s a no-frills airline featuring flight attendants who rap, dance, chant poetry and more. It’s about giving customers the modicum of respect they deserve.

Question for the Christian: How should one respond when treated unprofessionally? Answer as one is tempted? Let them have it. Raise your voice? Or maybe don't say anything at all, just walk meekly away? Or should we somehow find a way to speak the truth in love?

Details: Written by: Rex M. Rogers; Published: 11 October 2010

Certain characters loom large from my youth. One lived across an alley from our house. Others I met later at my first job off the farm.

Mr. Hagen was across the alley. A retired fellow by the time I got to know him, he had a first name but I don’t remember it. He was always Mr. Hagen to me. He was honest, hard-working to a fault, apparently devoted to his wife, loved to tell tall tales, generous, and a first-class gardener.

Mr. Hagen’s gardens: no weeds, big green growing plants, walkways, and continuous harvest throughout the fall. He spent hours on end days on end in that garden. People would find him there and start long chats over the back gate or sitting in his swing.

What made Mr. Hagen interesting was the confluence of exaggerated traits he presented in a short package. He could talk forever, liked to talk to anyone and everyone, smoked stinky cigars, told these long convoluted stories that somehow kept you engaged to the end, and salted his language with healthy, or maybe unhealthy, doses of earthy vocabulary.

I can’t say that I remember any terrible words he taught me—his words were, in today’s context, pretty tame. But I can still remember those long conversations wherein he instilled the idea that I could probably do whatever I set out to do. I didn’t know then whether that was true, and I’m not so sure now, but the thought certainly makes you look beyond. I owe his memory that—far horizons.

Details: Written by: Rex M. Rogers; Published: 10 October 2010

We’ve talked about five things grandparents wish their grandkids knew and five things grandkids wish their grandparents knew. Now here are five things I wish everyone knew:

What matters is Christ and biblical Christianity, nothing more, nothing less. Christians spend too much time and energy arguing about cultural preferences. Christian liberty may be the least understood and least practiced doctrine in the Bible. Applying it would be freeing in more ways than one.

Developing a truly Christian worldview is the most liberating thing one can experience. For the Christian who has already experienced salvation in Christ, the most powerful impact upon his or her life will be a biblical philosophy of life. No other worldview accurately explains the nature of good and evil, the world, and our place in it.

The world is desperate for leaders who lead with a proactive, motivating faith in Christ. Uncertainty and anxiety define our times more than stability or hope. People are looking for answers and the people who possess them. Faith-based leaders are capable of connecting us with God’s vision and his hope.

God never told us to check our brains and our backbone at the door of the church. Christians were never told to be whimpy. God expects us to demonstrate the fruit of the Spirit in our lives, but he also expects us to think and to act responsibly. Meekness is not weakness and weak Christianity is not biblical.

It’s not about you. Life is not about me or you in an individualistic sense. It’s about God’s will for each and all of us and the culture in which we live. Our task is to live out our faith through works that magnify his name in all that we do.

Everyone would live a more fulfilled life if he or she lived according to how God designed the world in the first place. Biblical philosophy is not esoteric nonsense. It’s practical and it works.

Revised “Making a Difference” program #420 originally recorded September 28, 2005.

Details: Written by: Rex M. Rogers; Published: 09 October 2010

Recently I wrote about five things grandparents wish their grandkids knew. Now let's visit the other end of the teeter-totter. It’s a time for the grandkids to talk to their grandparents.

Usually we think about grandparents imparting advice to grandchildren, but we’ve learned that grandkids have something to say. Here are five things grandchildren wish their grandparents knew:

Times change and not all new ideas or practices are wrong or threatening. Sometimes grandparents lock themselves into only one way of thinking or doing. That’s good when it comes to unchanging moral matters. It’s not so good when it comes to cultural preferences. Youth need room to grow and grandparents should create the freedom for that growth, like taking the jar off a hothouse plant grown too large for its environment.

Life in community is just as pleasing to God as individualism. This youth generation, so-called Millennials or Generation Y, are more tuned in to relationships and connectivity than most of their forebears. Add the Internet to this and you have a worldwide phenomenon.

Not all young people are going down the tubes spiritually. If grandparents spend much time watching the nightly news you’d forgive them for thinking America’s youth are mostly thugs. But this is not true. There are thousands of youth who want to learn right, love right, and live right.

Environmental stewardship is not a liberal issue but a Christian issue. This generation is environmentally conscious like none before it, and they should be, for we are all God’s farmers.

Only authenticity is authentic. Millennial grandchildren are postmodern grandchildren. They’ve come of age in a chaotic, uncertain world. Nothing seems to make sense. They don’t trust institutions or even groups as much as their grandparents did. Millennials hunger for relationships with people of integrity. Godly grandparents may not understand everything about the latest techno-gadget, but they do know a great deal about living--and that wisdom is what's missing in many young adults' fractured family experiences, morally relativistic education, and highly materialistic culture. Some, maybe more than we give them credit for, are smart enough to know this and are looking for authenticity.

Grandkids may be young, but they’re not without wisdom. Listen to them, grandparents.

Revised “Making a Difference” program #419 originally recorded September 28, 2005.

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