An Elder in Our Midst

I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for McDonalds for many years, dating back to a set of early Golden Arches near my childhood home. I’m extremely grateful for all the Big Mac purchases over the years that lined the pockets of Ray Kroc, so that his widow could leave a legacy gift to the Salvation Army for the Kroc Center here in Ashland. But our friendship is on rocky ground, for when I drove through McDonalds the other day to order soup and a soft drink, the drive-through voice said, “You’re a senior citizen, right?” Ouch!

Gray hair, check. Grandmother status, check. But I am still not a card-carrying Golden Buckeye. While the years are creeping up on me, I’m still in my fifties, and in my book, that’s not elderly. However, the woman at the window (who looked at least as old as I do) explained that her restaurant offers a senior discount to those fifty-five and up, so I saved a dime on my Senior Coke. Woohoo!

That same night, I gathered with friends and family of Josianne Stone to honor her as the June Metcalf Elder in Residence at the Salvation Army Kroc Center. This particular program was birthed from the desire to recognize the elders of Ashland, those willing to share their wisdom and giftedness with our community, especially to the generations younger than theirs.

When we first explored the development of this program, I did not know there is a group that calls themselves The Elders. They are independent global leaders, brought together by Nelson Mandela, who offer their collective influence and experience to support peace building, help address major causes of human suffering and promote the shared interests of humanity. While our honored elder is not a global leader like Jimmy Carter or Desmond Tutu, her life story speaks of the same themes as these prominent world elders, for as a young woman, she was part of the resistance to the Nazis in Belgium during World War II.

Like many survivors of the horrors of war, Josianne seldom talked about her experiences over the years, saying, “When the war was over, it was over.” Yet when her grandson Lucas was in middle school, she was asked to talk with his class about the war, the occupation, and the Holocaust, and the years slipped away as she recounted the deprivation and fear of the people of Belgium. Her words were so powerful that her family and friends encouraged her to record her thoughts for future generations, available on a YouTube video called the Josianne Stone Story.

In preparation for the Elder in Residence reception for Josianne, coordinator Judy McLaughlin spent time in conversation at Josianne’s home. As they chatted, Judy mentioned that her own father had lost his life during World War II, and Josianne expressed her personal thanks for the sacrifices that Americans made to defeat the Nazi forces and to secure freedom for the people of Belgium. For Judy, those words provided a watershed moment. As she said to Josianne on Tuesday evening, “Your expressed gratitude moved me from a lifelong sadness to an understanding of what my loss meant to you.”

Life didn’t stop at the war for Josianne, for she studied fashion design in Paris and is an accomplished seamstress, a profession that supported her when she first immigrated to the United States. She is also a gifted artist, and though she didn’t take her first art class until 1984, she took the advice of her instructor to “be prolific,” describing her art as “humbly reproducing God’s creation.”

After being privileged to hear Josianne Stone’s story and to witness the full life she continues to lead, I came to an aha! moment of my own: if this is what it means to be a senior citizen, an elder of our community, sign me up – even without the McDonalds’ discount! Thomas Carlyle understands: “Old age is not a matter for sorrow. It is a matter for thanks if we have left our work done behind us.” [Stone’s works are on display at the Kroc Center through the end of November, with notecards available at Enjoy! in downtown Ashland].

Boots on the Ground

Anyone who has been even semi-conscious during the past few weeks has heard the phrase, “boots on the ground” as talking heads, political leaders, and Joe and Jane Citizen debate the role of the United States regarding Syria. In nearly every interview or discussion I’ve heard about Syria, that phrase has described the hopes of all involved to keep American troops off the ground in that war-torn country.

I take the threat of Syria seriously, but I can’t help it - the phrase “boots on the ground” triggers a song in my mind. “General” Larry Platt sang these now infamous words at an audition for American Idol, and it went viral in 2010. “Pants on the ground, pants on the ground”– how could you possibly forget those lyrical words that warned of the danger of “acting like a fool with your pants on the ground?”

While those who practice the art of sagging may face some challenges in the corporate world, pants on the ground is not the life-threatening image that boots on the ground stirs up in us. The staggering losses of World War II as witnessed by my father and his generation, the body bags of Viet Nam that haunted my teen-age years, and the precisely folded flags at the gravesites of Iraq and Afghanistan casualties in this century are somber reminders of the cost of boots on the ground, and I’m relieved that “no boots on the ground” is the consistent battle cry through the Syrian deliberations.

Once again, the world is not at peace, and the United States is attempting to sort out what it can do about it, what it should do about it, even if that response does not include boots on the ground. It’s a complicated question for sure. Why get involved in a country that has an unstable history and one of the worst records regarding human rights in the world, and that many Americans can’t even locate on a map?

President Obama strove to answer that question in his speech to the nation on Tuesday night, beginning with these words:  “My fellow Americans, tonight I want to talk to you about Syria -- why it matters, and where we go from here.” Good, I thought. I’ve been so confused by all I’ve heard about this, and I want to understand what is happening. And his next words made sense to me: “But I have resisted calls for military action, because we cannot resolve someone else’s civil war through force, particularly after a decade of war in Iraq and Afghanistan.” I’m with you there, Mr. President.

I listened carefully to him, and to the various discussions around this subject, and I’m still not sure what should happen. While the stakes are high and the atrocities unimaginable, it is on the other side of the world. What should my country do? The words spoken by an ancient man as recorded in the scriptures echo in my mind as well. Perhaps not quite in context, but I must ask: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Gen. 4:9). President Obama said it this way: “What kind of world will we live in if the United States of America sees a dictator brazenly violate international law with poison gas, and we choose to look the other way?”

Whether it’s one thousand Syrian men, women, and children in 2013, six million men, women, and children who perished in the Holocaust, or, closer to home, one abused child, one victim of a drunk driver, or one playground bully, the answer remains the same: yes, I am my brother’s – and sister’s – keeper. We are deeply disturbed by the images of refugees pouring out of Syria, and we mourn the deaths of our brothers and sisters in what seems to be a senseless civil war. Unlike the atrocities committed in the Holocaust, we can no longer claim that we didn’t know.

Mr. Obama has taken some heat for calling the United States exceptional in its willingness to act to right at least some of the wrongs around the world. I’m not sure we’re all that exceptional, Mr. President. Somehow, I just want to believe that we are human.