母亲离世两年了。
思念情切之时，我曾打开网上搜索引擎古狗的地球卫星图，想从高空俯瞰母亲安葬的坟地。可惜分辨率不足，我只能看到洞庭湖西边的家乡地貌，蜿蜒的澧水，井字的田园，和乡间的公路。更清晰的画面，我只有从记忆的深处去提取了。
母亲走的那个周末，我本来要去加州开会的。但周间心里突发感动，于是给弟弟挂电话询问母亲的病情。弟弟干脆拍了几张照片，电邮给我。那瘦骨嶙峋的身体，因为肿瘤而烂穿的腹壁，让我揪心难忍。父亲去世时，我还在县城读高中，来不及与他诀别，抱憾连连。我当即决定改变行程，赶紧回国看母亲。后来知道，那是上天赏赐的最后一次见面机会。
经过一天一夜不眠的转机换车旅行，我赶在周五后半夜回到家乡。母亲因为知道我要回来看她，据说连续两晚都不愿合眼，在盼望中等待。与年初时相比，母亲健康大大恶化了。跟弟弟商量好，天亮后我们送母亲再一次住进医院。
周六晚上，母亲躺在病床上，毫无睡意。那夜，我为母亲守睡，与她交谈，宽慰她。
夜半，我拖著不无疲倦的身子，走出病房，来到院子，换气提神。没有星星的天幕显得格外的黑沉沉，给人难以名状的压抑感。儿时的第一间茅草房，就在医院前方河堤边的农田上，如今早已荡然无存，代之以改革开放后兴起的栋栋乡镇新居。医院门外五岩桥下，孩提时代的我与弟弟常在黄昏时分结伴前往，捡拾当日被桥头小贩挥刀砍下的甘蔗头。兄弟俩羞于被人笑话，把那些丢弃的甘蔗头顶在夹肢窝里，贴身藏好，匍伏穿过红花草籽田，回家一起分享劳动的收获。
医院二楼突然传来一阵急促的婴儿啼哭声，一个新生命就在这个黑夜里诞生了。我的思绪又重回儿时。从母亲早年的回忆里，我明白她与我出生时的那声啼哭都来之不易。她有三个哥哥一个弟弟，另有两个妹妹生下来就被溺了。母亲差一点逃过同样的厄运。乡下那时有溺女婴的邪恶习俗，虽然人人知道，每个人都必须有一个母亲。外祖母看见生下来的第一个女孩，如同稀世珍宝，决定瞒天过海，对外祖父谎称生下来的又是一个男孩。终究纸包不住火，半个月之后外祖父发现真情，好几周生气不与外祖母说话。母亲就这样侥幸活下来了。后来，她的两个妹妹刚生下来就在外祖父的严格监督下被淹死在提前准备好的水桶里。
母亲二十几岁，丈夫就病故了。她与三个幼女相依为命。六十年代初自然灾害时期，穷得揭不开锅的日子，母亲不得不讨米逃荒。我父亲命运同样多舛，五十年代初因渎职罪被抓去坐牢，妻离子散。九年劳改回来，经好心人撮合，重组家庭，生下我和弟弟。我心里非常清楚，是父母遭受的诸般苦难，赋予我生命的契机。
我停下脚步，盘算著母亲与我来人间一遭，都属小概率事件。无数的偶然，组合成某种必然。如今，母亲行将离世，我伴她走最后的旅程，心里不胜唏嘘，感慨万端。
记得母亲告诉我，虽然医院离家不到百步路，但我出生是在家里，由北边山峪里来的接生婆助产。按照乡下规矩，接生后需要给首位到访的客人吃一大碗煮鸡蛋，免得客人因招待不周而故意回家大吃大喝，把好吃懒做的恶业传染给孩子。据说那些鸡蛋煮熟去壳后，需要在新生婴孩洗干净的屁股上来回搓滚过。这种老掉牙的古怪习俗多为后人所诟，罕有沿袭的了。
父母亲尽了他们最大的努力，来哺育我和弟弟。除了田里的香稻，自留地里的小麦玉米，记得前院菜园里还种了几样果树，包括柚子，李子，桃子，梨子，栗子，覆盆子，后院满地都是甜脆的香瓜与菜瓜。某个大热天，我回家神兮兮地告诉母亲，说有一个人恐怕快要渴死了，因为他坐在医院前面的公路旁，竟然双手捧著一个北瓜在啃（我们当地称南瓜为北瓜）。母亲听了禁不住大笑，说娃仔我还没见过大世面，那人吃的名叫西瓜。母亲一席话，说得我口水都快流出来。我暗自发奋读书，长大后到外面闯世界。如今年盖不惑，算是养儿方知父母恩。今年母亲节的谢亲晚会上，儿子在与朋友们一起预先录制的录像里，歪著脑袋，以调皮的口吻，感谢爸妈给他提供衣食之需。我后悔自己小时候没有这样感谢过自己的父母。
我们还小的时候，家父脾气暴躁，时常打骂母亲。有次大吵后，母亲差一点寻了短见。母亲后来告诉我，她夜里哭著往当地一个堰塘里走，水越来越深，到她脖子时，她停下来，想了许久，终于不忍心撇下两个小孩不管，就一身湿渌渌地走回来了。
医院的大门嘎吱开了，一位老人被背了进来。我尾随而去。他被安置在我母亲的斜对门。老人身体很不舒服，但原因不明。 我为他按手祷告。
在那个暗夜里，充满的是母亲临终前的呻吟，婴儿出生后的啼哭，老人不住的哎哼。一代过去，一代又来，无数人都阅尽生老病死这几幅人生图画，但不知有多少人得到了超越苦难的真诀。我面对苦难，唯一可做的，就是向天幕之上的上帝祈祷。
周日上午，我入睡大约两小时后便被叫醒。大姐告诉我，母亲快不行了。我急速赶到医院。接下来的三个多小时，我第一次长时间紧紧握著母亲的右手，抚著她的额头，一直眼睁睁地看著她，不时挥泪为她祈祷，用嘶哑颤抖的喉咙唱圣诗。母亲已经不能说话了，靠著氧气在呼吸，用眼睛与我们亲人默默地交谈。母亲心里明白我们对她的依依不舍，眼角静静淌出了热泪。临走前不久，母亲的眼睛明显失神了，开始模糊。我永远忘不了，周日午后两点十七分，她老人家最后的一次呼吸，好象时钟突然停摆，江河突然断流，日月突然失色。是的，母亲走完了地上八十二年的艰辛旅程，息劳归天了。 我跳起来，有一种大悲中的大喜，绝处逢生的释放。世纪之交时，母亲曾第二次来美看望我，并受洗归入基督。
我一手怀抱母亲的遗像，一手举著木头十字架，与弟弟一起，缓缓地走在抬棺的八位汉子前面。吊唁送葬的队伍，再一次走过那熟悉的路。过得水渠，来到安葬母亲的地方，就是水库后面山脚下的第二个老屋场。那条水渠，曾记录母亲对我无微不至的关爱。我小时候体弱多病，某夜发高烧，父亲不在家，母亲背起我去医院看急诊。为要越过当时没有小桥的水渠，母亲不得不把我放下，然后挽起裤脚，让一双从小被裹的小脚，战战兢兢地踩到流水里，再把我抱过去。
如今，母亲已经越过了死河，被接到永恒的天家去了。安息吧，妈妈！我们再会有期。
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Life Happens
Little Jeremiah is born, to our collective cheers. Sister Wenyin went home, to the sadness of those who care about her.
Life and death juxtapose. In fact, every second, two are reporting to this world, while two are leaving this world.
I remember the weekend before thanksgiving in 2006, when I rushed back to bid my final farewell to my mom. It was a Saturday night. The sky was pitch dark, without the slightest sight of any stars. Both my mom and I were awake throughout the night. It can be argued that we were holding vigil for each other.
Sometime past midnight, I walked out of the ward for a time of solitude and meditation. My childhood home used to stand in the middle of the rice field in front of the hospital before being forced to relocate to the foothill of the village. A newborn's sudden cry seared the quietness of the countryside, bringing me back from my reminiscing. An old man was carried in, moaning in pain. A frame of history froze in my mind: a new life came to the world, an old man was stricken with pain, my mom was racing toward the finish line of her life, and I was the witness of the moment of life and death.
Today, we are witnesses of another moment in the parting of life and death. May the Lord bless little Jeremiah and his family. May the Lord receive the soul of Sister Wenyin and comfort her grieving family and loved ones with the blessed hope that shatters all despairs.
Life and death juxtapose. In fact, every second, two are reporting to this world, while two are leaving this world.
I remember the weekend before thanksgiving in 2006, when I rushed back to bid my final farewell to my mom. It was a Saturday night. The sky was pitch dark, without the slightest sight of any stars. Both my mom and I were awake throughout the night. It can be argued that we were holding vigil for each other.
Sometime past midnight, I walked out of the ward for a time of solitude and meditation. My childhood home used to stand in the middle of the rice field in front of the hospital before being forced to relocate to the foothill of the village. A newborn's sudden cry seared the quietness of the countryside, bringing me back from my reminiscing. An old man was carried in, moaning in pain. A frame of history froze in my mind: a new life came to the world, an old man was stricken with pain, my mom was racing toward the finish line of her life, and I was the witness of the moment of life and death.
Today, we are witnesses of another moment in the parting of life and death. May the Lord bless little Jeremiah and his family. May the Lord receive the soul of Sister Wenyin and comfort her grieving family and loved ones with the blessed hope that shatters all despairs.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
上帝的粮仓
股市被恐惧描黑，
对冲十月的流行色。
大选前三天，
我朝圣金字塔山。
人到中年的脚板，
丈量午后的时间。
周公一万步陪走，
铺满落红的林苑。
仪仗队婷婷玉立，
穿一双千年石鞋，
披一身赤橙黄绿，
哼一曲何日君再来。
湖心孤岛在听，
邻山舞伴在跳。
列阵如同京奥千人绣花毯，
承应天光的普照。
老马不识途，
三军会师三脚石。
双枪老太七十有六，
稚龄童子扬名露西。
午餐或揣在胃里或忘在车上，
晚饭一律留待皇家大排档。
休管白宫新主，备战不必备荒；
数不清的叶子，是上帝的粮仓。
(注：周公，指Sam，随身携带计步器，是次登山共走九千多步。老马，指Stephen，不闻不问路途颜色标示的方向，全凭感觉与自信，曾一度轻言放弃，终于靠手机联络，才肠肌轱辘地摸到会合点，幸得洪兄预备的香酥鸡充饥。双枪老太，特指洪伯母。同行另有地质学者梦伯母。小露西，四岁，自个走全程，不劳累妈妈和怀抱小弟弟的父亲，精神最可嘉。露西，亦为金字塔山公园中一高地眺望景点名。三脚石，景点之一，三小石支撑一大石。三军，指至少三队人马，从两个方向包抄会合。皇家大排档，十号公路一餐馆名。上帝的粮仓，指生物圈内所有食物的最终来源，乃绿色植物光合作用之结果，绝不因股市萧条或白宫新主谁属而受实质影响。光合作用超过了生物圈内食物的总需要。秋叶零落，或许可以调整不必要的粮食过剩。)
对冲十月的流行色。
大选前三天，
我朝圣金字塔山。
人到中年的脚板，
丈量午后的时间。
周公一万步陪走，
铺满落红的林苑。
仪仗队婷婷玉立，
穿一双千年石鞋，
披一身赤橙黄绿，
哼一曲何日君再来。
湖心孤岛在听，
邻山舞伴在跳。
列阵如同京奥千人绣花毯，
承应天光的普照。
老马不识途，
三军会师三脚石。
双枪老太七十有六，
稚龄童子扬名露西。
午餐或揣在胃里或忘在车上，
晚饭一律留待皇家大排档。
休管白宫新主，备战不必备荒；
数不清的叶子，是上帝的粮仓。
(注：周公，指Sam，随身携带计步器，是次登山共走九千多步。老马，指Stephen，不闻不问路途颜色标示的方向，全凭感觉与自信，曾一度轻言放弃，终于靠手机联络，才肠肌轱辘地摸到会合点，幸得洪兄预备的香酥鸡充饥。双枪老太，特指洪伯母。同行另有地质学者梦伯母。小露西，四岁，自个走全程，不劳累妈妈和怀抱小弟弟的父亲，精神最可嘉。露西，亦为金字塔山公园中一高地眺望景点名。三脚石，景点之一，三小石支撑一大石。三军，指至少三队人马，从两个方向包抄会合。皇家大排档，十号公路一餐馆名。上帝的粮仓，指生物圈内所有食物的最终来源，乃绿色植物光合作用之结果，绝不因股市萧条或白宫新主谁属而受实质影响。光合作用超过了生物圈内食物的总需要。秋叶零落，或许可以调整不必要的粮食过剩。)
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Beautiful Life
Mei, our pet dog, signaled her eagerness for a relief. I took her out to the front yard. Under her paws came the creaking of the first fallen leaves. Nocturnal singing by crickets filled the air in the early autumn night. Freight train whistled its way in the distance. The two-day old full moon silently relayed the light from the late morning Sun above East Asia.
Forty-four years ago to the hour, a crying infant boy slipped into this seemingly flawless wonderland unbeknown for the disquieting jumble and tumble of the day.
Life has been beautiful. Just look back and around.
The artists standing firm in the yard are painting themselves with self-made colorful crayons. Without peeking from outside, how do the artists know when and where to mint and deposit the load of pigments in their own gallery after the first inkling of the seasonal chill? How did the weavers stitch up their own green sweaters earlier in the spring? How did the florists arrange their name brand bouquet and enchant the buzzing insects with overnight brewed nectar from under their sleeves? How did the baker shops harness the solar power long before our energy crisis? Why did the vegetarians donate their own flesh as bread for the herbivores who then sacrifice for the carnivores who freely offer their corpses to the microbes? Who waved the magic wand in the beginning and breathed life into existence? Who decrees that life in such rich diversity must surrender the grip to longevity in its present shapes and forms?
A forty-four year old becomes a child of curiosity for a night. Knock. Knock.
The crickets are still singing their post-courtship love songs.
Forty-four years ago to the hour, a crying infant boy slipped into this seemingly flawless wonderland unbeknown for the disquieting jumble and tumble of the day.
Life has been beautiful. Just look back and around.
The artists standing firm in the yard are painting themselves with self-made colorful crayons. Without peeking from outside, how do the artists know when and where to mint and deposit the load of pigments in their own gallery after the first inkling of the seasonal chill? How did the weavers stitch up their own green sweaters earlier in the spring? How did the florists arrange their name brand bouquet and enchant the buzzing insects with overnight brewed nectar from under their sleeves? How did the baker shops harness the solar power long before our energy crisis? Why did the vegetarians donate their own flesh as bread for the herbivores who then sacrifice for the carnivores who freely offer their corpses to the microbes? Who waved the magic wand in the beginning and breathed life into existence? Who decrees that life in such rich diversity must surrender the grip to longevity in its present shapes and forms?
A forty-four year old becomes a child of curiosity for a night. Knock. Knock.
The crickets are still singing their post-courtship love songs.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Hope is the Surest Antidote of Fear
Fear is gripping the world. That is the dominating news today.
Who would not fear, you argue, when a big chunk of one's hard-earned savings in investment and retirement accounts have evaporated in a matter of days?
We worry because we can foresee a day in the not so distant future when we may lose our shelter and no food may be brought to our dinner table and not enough money is available to send kids to colleges. This is a typical and, I must admit, fairly reasonable worry of our time.
Let's talk about shelter first. True, if you, like me, have not paid off the mortgage, it is possible for us to default our loan and lose our shelter. We will have to rent a cheaper place or live on the street if homeless shelters are overcrowded and we have nowhere else to turn. Possibly, we may have to go to the mountains and build our own temporary shelter there (and breathe fresher air too).
But do not worry too much. Since almost everyone (except homeless people not living in homeless shelters) are already living in a real place, it is a logical corollary that the world has a place for everyone, if the street-living homeless will take up some of the underutilized or empty spaces. We can safely conclude that everyone has a place to live. During deep economic crisis, if banks and landlords insist that more than half of the world population must vacate from current homes and apartments, then I will assure you that the new homeless people will revolt and take over the world unless the governments step in to help the people. I know you still worry if only a third or quarter of the world population do not have a place to live and you and I are among them. Do not worry. We may form our own nation called the Republic of the Homeless. We may pick up where both capitalism and communism have miserably failed and build a utopia that truly love one another in hope and faith.
Next, food. I am the least worried on food. You see, the red hot Sun (not Sarah Palin) is still dutifully giving off light of comparable luminosity. The green plants (not the Full Frontal fashion models) are still dutifully performing photosynthesis. The whole ecosystem (bacteria, plants, animals including people) has been ultimately fed by solar powered photosynthesis. There is no near term crisis yet, not for another few billion years when the Sun burns up its hydrogen fuel. The food is here, there, and everywhere. I know we modern mortals have been accustomed to buying food from super food marts. But that is not the way of life for our ancestors and our animal friends and germ foes. We can grow our own green plants and animal stocks. Now you worry about cultivatable land. Worry not, for the land is yours, mine, and ours to plough and plant, according to the lyric of a most memorable Christian hymn that I heard when I came to USA. You still worry about the land, as if we will relive the cowboys' era of the great expansion to the West. I say, worry not, since we do not need a big acre of land to grow enough food for one family. Besides, we can always go back to the days of slavery and submit ourselves to the big landlords before the next peasants' revolution.
Lastly, college tuition. Why worry about it when we have to dwell in mountain caves or shelters and eat what we grow ourselves? We will push back the modern education by 500 years. My friends (as John McCain likes to address his audience), don't you want to live a life that is as archaic and romantic as the nomads in an environmentally friendly way? I miss my childhood days when I collected dog dung to fertilize the land.
I rest my case of argument. I hope we will regain our hope, the best antidote to any fear. We are afraid of the potential revision to our modern way of life. Screw the modernity. Let's go back to the future that has true hope, faith and love.
Barack Obama seemed to know what we would need by launching his presidential bid on the bandwagon of hope. Why has he stopped talking about hope now? We all need hope, all the more desperately.
Who would not fear, you argue, when a big chunk of one's hard-earned savings in investment and retirement accounts have evaporated in a matter of days?
We worry because we can foresee a day in the not so distant future when we may lose our shelter and no food may be brought to our dinner table and not enough money is available to send kids to colleges. This is a typical and, I must admit, fairly reasonable worry of our time.
Let's talk about shelter first. True, if you, like me, have not paid off the mortgage, it is possible for us to default our loan and lose our shelter. We will have to rent a cheaper place or live on the street if homeless shelters are overcrowded and we have nowhere else to turn. Possibly, we may have to go to the mountains and build our own temporary shelter there (and breathe fresher air too).
But do not worry too much. Since almost everyone (except homeless people not living in homeless shelters) are already living in a real place, it is a logical corollary that the world has a place for everyone, if the street-living homeless will take up some of the underutilized or empty spaces. We can safely conclude that everyone has a place to live. During deep economic crisis, if banks and landlords insist that more than half of the world population must vacate from current homes and apartments, then I will assure you that the new homeless people will revolt and take over the world unless the governments step in to help the people. I know you still worry if only a third or quarter of the world population do not have a place to live and you and I are among them. Do not worry. We may form our own nation called the Republic of the Homeless. We may pick up where both capitalism and communism have miserably failed and build a utopia that truly love one another in hope and faith.
Next, food. I am the least worried on food. You see, the red hot Sun (not Sarah Palin) is still dutifully giving off light of comparable luminosity. The green plants (not the Full Frontal fashion models) are still dutifully performing photosynthesis. The whole ecosystem (bacteria, plants, animals including people) has been ultimately fed by solar powered photosynthesis. There is no near term crisis yet, not for another few billion years when the Sun burns up its hydrogen fuel. The food is here, there, and everywhere. I know we modern mortals have been accustomed to buying food from super food marts. But that is not the way of life for our ancestors and our animal friends and germ foes. We can grow our own green plants and animal stocks. Now you worry about cultivatable land. Worry not, for the land is yours, mine, and ours to plough and plant, according to the lyric of a most memorable Christian hymn that I heard when I came to USA. You still worry about the land, as if we will relive the cowboys' era of the great expansion to the West. I say, worry not, since we do not need a big acre of land to grow enough food for one family. Besides, we can always go back to the days of slavery and submit ourselves to the big landlords before the next peasants' revolution.
Lastly, college tuition. Why worry about it when we have to dwell in mountain caves or shelters and eat what we grow ourselves? We will push back the modern education by 500 years. My friends (as John McCain likes to address his audience), don't you want to live a life that is as archaic and romantic as the nomads in an environmentally friendly way? I miss my childhood days when I collected dog dung to fertilize the land.
I rest my case of argument. I hope we will regain our hope, the best antidote to any fear. We are afraid of the potential revision to our modern way of life. Screw the modernity. Let's go back to the future that has true hope, faith and love.
Barack Obama seemed to know what we would need by launching his presidential bid on the bandwagon of hope. Why has he stopped talking about hope now? We all need hope, all the more desperately.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Stop the Bloodletting, Fear no Fear
Wall Street and world markets did not get too cozy with the 700 billion bailout plan. The world has entered into a panic attack, as if the sky is falling any minute.
The fearful, or shrewd, decide to unload their stocks and stash away the cash until future recovery from the panic attack. Assuming no more short selling is permitted in this downright bearish market, few stockholders stand to gain anything, except earlier short sellers who are trying to buy back the borrowed shares and those who have plenty of cash on hand to buy values stocks in their new lows.
Even though I am not running for President of any country or club, but as a good world citizen, I must advise the panicking fellow citizens not to lose heart. Do not join the frenzy of dumping your shares. That will only exacerbate the irrational exuberance on the market and drive down the price more steeply.
I want to go one step further to call on the governments to immediately stop the bloodletting on the market by shutting down all trades until further notice, when people will have regained their mental sure footing.
The sub-prime mortgage debacle due to unshackled Wall Street greed has set off this unfortunate episode of economic downturn. The mere intensifying fear of common stockholders will only add fuel to fire, insult to injury, making the bad worse.
First is the Wall Street greed, now comes the Main Street fear. Greed and fear are twins that will do us in. Someone has said it well, the only fear that we need to fear is the fear itself. So fear no fear.
I am reading Daniel Coleman's classic book on "Emotional Intelligence". It is evident that panic selling is an emotionally unintelligent, knee-jerk reaction in this gloomy market. We must put a cork to the bubbling foam of fear. The government must stop the bloodletting.
The fearful, or shrewd, decide to unload their stocks and stash away the cash until future recovery from the panic attack. Assuming no more short selling is permitted in this downright bearish market, few stockholders stand to gain anything, except earlier short sellers who are trying to buy back the borrowed shares and those who have plenty of cash on hand to buy values stocks in their new lows.
Even though I am not running for President of any country or club, but as a good world citizen, I must advise the panicking fellow citizens not to lose heart. Do not join the frenzy of dumping your shares. That will only exacerbate the irrational exuberance on the market and drive down the price more steeply.
I want to go one step further to call on the governments to immediately stop the bloodletting on the market by shutting down all trades until further notice, when people will have regained their mental sure footing.
The sub-prime mortgage debacle due to unshackled Wall Street greed has set off this unfortunate episode of economic downturn. The mere intensifying fear of common stockholders will only add fuel to fire, insult to injury, making the bad worse.
First is the Wall Street greed, now comes the Main Street fear. Greed and fear are twins that will do us in. Someone has said it well, the only fear that we need to fear is the fear itself. So fear no fear.
I am reading Daniel Coleman's classic book on "Emotional Intelligence". It is evident that panic selling is an emotionally unintelligent, knee-jerk reaction in this gloomy market. We must put a cork to the bubbling foam of fear. The government must stop the bloodletting.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Smile, Baby, Smile
The crying baby smiled, even without that expensive, $700 billion lollipop.
Possibly the timely festivity of the Jewish New Year is one cause for smile. Or perhaps the most irrational exuberance on record yesterday must be undone of its unnecessary damage, thanks to bargain hunters and day traders who search for their fortune in a beaten down market.
Wall Street reminds me of the chaos theory. The butterfly effect results from a runaway, yet unpredictable, domino effect. Let's say, a newsworthy rumor mill crops up somewhere in the message board and gets snowballing in a few hours or days. If more stakeholders subscribe to the veracity of the news, then a certain stock will trend up or down, depending on the nature of the news. If more and more people get a panic attack and start unloading their shares once tightly clutched to their chest, then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: the price continues its free fall indeed. One may ask, Is this justified by the fundamental of the stock or the overall health of the economy? It is justified most of the time for certain stocks, sometimes for all stocks, but never for all stocks at the same time.
Is now the time for panic selling? Most pundits would say no. The reason is simple. Panic selling is always self-fulfilling and self-destructive. It initiates a chain reaction that implodes. In the end, it drives a company and its shares to obscurity or even dustbin.
It is safe to assume that many companies are valuable and worth investing. All value-inflated or deflated stocks require corrections from time to time. A stock market crash is hardly justified, unless most listed companies are grossly overvalued. The trouble is, value is in the eyes of the beholders. That leaves ample room for chaotic trading, especially when people get edgy and irrational.
So stay cool, baby. Grow up and smile often. Do not wait for the lollipop.
Possibly the timely festivity of the Jewish New Year is one cause for smile. Or perhaps the most irrational exuberance on record yesterday must be undone of its unnecessary damage, thanks to bargain hunters and day traders who search for their fortune in a beaten down market.
Wall Street reminds me of the chaos theory. The butterfly effect results from a runaway, yet unpredictable, domino effect. Let's say, a newsworthy rumor mill crops up somewhere in the message board and gets snowballing in a few hours or days. If more stakeholders subscribe to the veracity of the news, then a certain stock will trend up or down, depending on the nature of the news. If more and more people get a panic attack and start unloading their shares once tightly clutched to their chest, then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: the price continues its free fall indeed. One may ask, Is this justified by the fundamental of the stock or the overall health of the economy? It is justified most of the time for certain stocks, sometimes for all stocks, but never for all stocks at the same time.
Is now the time for panic selling? Most pundits would say no. The reason is simple. Panic selling is always self-fulfilling and self-destructive. It initiates a chain reaction that implodes. In the end, it drives a company and its shares to obscurity or even dustbin.
It is safe to assume that many companies are valuable and worth investing. All value-inflated or deflated stocks require corrections from time to time. A stock market crash is hardly justified, unless most listed companies are grossly overvalued. The trouble is, value is in the eyes of the beholders. That leaves ample room for chaotic trading, especially when people get edgy and irrational.
So stay cool, baby. Grow up and smile often. Do not wait for the lollipop.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Crying Baby Syndrome
Wall Street has developed a personality of a crying baby these days.
When the news of a potential bailout plan first broke out, the sorrowfully crying baby liked it, and broke into a smile for a couple of trading sessions. The grandmothers and grandfathers on the Hill worked their socks off over the weekend to put finishing touches on a $700 billion bailout plan, shortly before a worrying world market opened while Wall Street the baby slept. Both the grandmother in the House and the grandfather-to-be in other House anxiously waited for the wake up of the sleeping baby, a little darling angel for a silent Sunday night.
The grey-haired grandfather-to-be even cautiously walked to the podium and shooed away the blood-thirsty mosquitoes flying around the baby after the gleaming dawn. The baby rose up from his slumber and, lo and behold, cried in hysteria, without waiting for the $700 billion lollipop from the grandparents. The House did not buy it and rejected it in the middle of his colicky crying, catapulting the baby into an ever louder howl, as if he is being weaned for the first time.
The fallout? All stakeholders have seen their paper wealth evaporated by another layer. My bank is being scooped up by another. Fortunately (or unfortunately, if you think differently), the balance I have is not even worth my worry.
Let the crying baby come of age and come to peaceable term with the harsh reality: no bailout for excessive greed.
The cows are still mooing in the green pastureland adorned with brightly yellow chrysanthemum. The birds find no reason to worry about another credit crunch for their lofty mansions in slight disrepair. The squirrels continue their due diligence of harvest in storing up for the incoming winter. Fossil fuel is no substitute for heating. They are counting again on their self-knitted fur coat to endure another cold season. The only layoff is happening with the once leafy corporation of forestry. Lots of green leaves will soon be served pink, red, yellow and purple slips.
Life continues.
When the news of a potential bailout plan first broke out, the sorrowfully crying baby liked it, and broke into a smile for a couple of trading sessions. The grandmothers and grandfathers on the Hill worked their socks off over the weekend to put finishing touches on a $700 billion bailout plan, shortly before a worrying world market opened while Wall Street the baby slept. Both the grandmother in the House and the grandfather-to-be in other House anxiously waited for the wake up of the sleeping baby, a little darling angel for a silent Sunday night.
The grey-haired grandfather-to-be even cautiously walked to the podium and shooed away the blood-thirsty mosquitoes flying around the baby after the gleaming dawn. The baby rose up from his slumber and, lo and behold, cried in hysteria, without waiting for the $700 billion lollipop from the grandparents. The House did not buy it and rejected it in the middle of his colicky crying, catapulting the baby into an ever louder howl, as if he is being weaned for the first time.
The fallout? All stakeholders have seen their paper wealth evaporated by another layer. My bank is being scooped up by another. Fortunately (or unfortunately, if you think differently), the balance I have is not even worth my worry.
Let the crying baby come of age and come to peaceable term with the harsh reality: no bailout for excessive greed.
The cows are still mooing in the green pastureland adorned with brightly yellow chrysanthemum. The birds find no reason to worry about another credit crunch for their lofty mansions in slight disrepair. The squirrels continue their due diligence of harvest in storing up for the incoming winter. Fossil fuel is no substitute for heating. They are counting again on their self-knitted fur coat to endure another cold season. The only layoff is happening with the once leafy corporation of forestry. Lots of green leaves will soon be served pink, red, yellow and purple slips.
Life continues.
Friday, September 19, 2008
In Time Such As This
Well, we all got a jolt, then a tremor, and finally a quake of another kind in recent weeks and days. In its wake, houses are foreclosed, investment accounts are shrunk, heads are spinning, minds are unsettling, and hearts are aching and broken.
The Wall Street capitalists tasted the bitter gall of excessive greed. They spit it out to the Main Street, and we all smelled the foul of it. The government is hurtled into a whirlwind, really a hurricane, of bailing out the distressed and bankruptcy-bound financial firms. Cataclysm-loving and havoc-wreaking short-sellers are sidelined for at least a day.
Now let's pause to take a much needed inventory. Inventory of life, that is.
Let's dwell on the value and self worth today. What we value can take on a collective meaning. So collective, it is really global. The global stakeholders can change the value of a stock in the twinkling of an eye. When more people feel it is overvalued, the stock goes south. The trouble is, the value can sink to a bottomless pit, unsupported by any fundamentals. Thus, whatever financial fortress we take refuge in may tumble down into a worthless pile of rubbles by the end of yesterday's session of trading. Still in doubt? Ask the Lehman Brothers over 150 years before present.
Our life's self worth can be so tied up with the value of our material wealth that we delude ourselves into categorical thinking that we are rich, poor, or just getting by. We often unconsciously fail to recognize the intrinsic value and worth of our life. We pity ourselves. Some of the fainthearted marshal their last ounce of courage only to end their misery in time like this.
Need not be so desperate! Fortunately, life is worth the living because of two compelling reasons.
First, our life is worth the dying of Christ on the Cross. In Christ, the Son of God, we find the greatest value and worth of our life. If God were a modern day IT guru, he might have easily reformatted or tossed into dustbin the virus-infected computers. God did not do that. The Son of God chose to become one of us, so that we may one day become like him. The more we find value in Christ, the more we have struck the mine of imperishable gold. I invite you to find value in Christ first, then yourself.
Second, our life is worth the living because Christ lives. The crucified Christ on Good Friday became the resurrected Christ on Easter Sunday. Such simple truth carries the greatest import to our outlook in life. Imagine, no amount of adversities in life can deter us from living in the shining rays of the blessed hope. Not stock crash. Not joblessness. Not sickness. Not even death. I invite you to go back to the first true dawn of new humanity, to the garden tomb site where Christ was once buried. The angel of light will tell us again as to Mary the Magdalene: he is not here, he is risen.
I invite you to spread the wing of faith and soar above the turmoils roiling in our midst. Let's gaze into the horizon beyond the sunset, brimming with light, and see in the lens of faith our heavenly home with our God. Let's have the true hope of eternal life, the hope that no politicians will ever be able to deliver. The audacity of hope, which is, Christ in us!
The Wall Street capitalists tasted the bitter gall of excessive greed. They spit it out to the Main Street, and we all smelled the foul of it. The government is hurtled into a whirlwind, really a hurricane, of bailing out the distressed and bankruptcy-bound financial firms. Cataclysm-loving and havoc-wreaking short-sellers are sidelined for at least a day.
Now let's pause to take a much needed inventory. Inventory of life, that is.
Let's dwell on the value and self worth today. What we value can take on a collective meaning. So collective, it is really global. The global stakeholders can change the value of a stock in the twinkling of an eye. When more people feel it is overvalued, the stock goes south. The trouble is, the value can sink to a bottomless pit, unsupported by any fundamentals. Thus, whatever financial fortress we take refuge in may tumble down into a worthless pile of rubbles by the end of yesterday's session of trading. Still in doubt? Ask the Lehman Brothers over 150 years before present.
Our life's self worth can be so tied up with the value of our material wealth that we delude ourselves into categorical thinking that we are rich, poor, or just getting by. We often unconsciously fail to recognize the intrinsic value and worth of our life. We pity ourselves. Some of the fainthearted marshal their last ounce of courage only to end their misery in time like this.
Need not be so desperate! Fortunately, life is worth the living because of two compelling reasons.
First, our life is worth the dying of Christ on the Cross. In Christ, the Son of God, we find the greatest value and worth of our life. If God were a modern day IT guru, he might have easily reformatted or tossed into dustbin the virus-infected computers. God did not do that. The Son of God chose to become one of us, so that we may one day become like him. The more we find value in Christ, the more we have struck the mine of imperishable gold. I invite you to find value in Christ first, then yourself.
Second, our life is worth the living because Christ lives. The crucified Christ on Good Friday became the resurrected Christ on Easter Sunday. Such simple truth carries the greatest import to our outlook in life. Imagine, no amount of adversities in life can deter us from living in the shining rays of the blessed hope. Not stock crash. Not joblessness. Not sickness. Not even death. I invite you to go back to the first true dawn of new humanity, to the garden tomb site where Christ was once buried. The angel of light will tell us again as to Mary the Magdalene: he is not here, he is risen.
I invite you to spread the wing of faith and soar above the turmoils roiling in our midst. Let's gaze into the horizon beyond the sunset, brimming with light, and see in the lens of faith our heavenly home with our God. Let's have the true hope of eternal life, the hope that no politicians will ever be able to deliver. The audacity of hope, which is, Christ in us!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
A Father's Advice
Today is my son's birthday, as well as millions of others'. Here is my advice to Sam, and Sarah and Stephanie.
Feel the heavenly melodies. Our cosmos is sounding with harmonic strings at the deepest microcosmic level. Our cosmos is replete with constantly dancing galaxies at the grandest macrocosmic scale. In between, we breathe to follow the rhythmic tune of our heartbeat. We are star-gazers, grass-grazers, and mostly meat-eaters. Above all, we are musicians born to declare the splendid glory of our Creator. Feel the music in the air, like August Rush. Feel the hoofbeat of the changing seasons. Feel the distinctive chirps and coos of birds. Feel the ruffling along the path of a treetop-climbing squirrel. Feel the tiny local hurricanes produced by a fluttering butterfly. Feel the unfolding of the petals in a wild flower. Feel the dirt-cracking of a new bamboo shoot. Feel the brushing strokes of chlorophyll, carotenoids and anthocyanins in mother nature's photoshop. Feel the huffing and puffing of a gusty wind, or the bemoaning of a breeze. Feel the moonlight echoing the sunshine. Feel the shooting stars, God's fireworks. Feel the pulsating of life's happenings inside and outside. Feel your own sixth sense. Feel God. Compose new music with your own life-sized notes.
Feel the numbers and curves. Remodel and sharpen your sense of math. This world is short-sighted and tunnel-visioned, seeing numbers printed on the paycheck, and curves sported by beauties skin-deep. Go beyond that. This is God's world. God is the unrivaled mathematician. Think after His thoughts. Mind His games. Feel numbers and curves that do tango together. Paint your own artworks with numbers and curves in life's whatever vocation.
Feel the pain. Feel the pain of the victimized, the short-changed, the vilified, the abused, the handicapped, the disadvantaged, and the underprivileged. Feel the holy pain on the Cross. Feel the compassionate pain inside you to extend a helping hand. In a world of getting even or getting more, hunker down as an altruist and peacemaker.
The world will be a better place because of what you do as advised.
Feel the heavenly melodies. Our cosmos is sounding with harmonic strings at the deepest microcosmic level. Our cosmos is replete with constantly dancing galaxies at the grandest macrocosmic scale. In between, we breathe to follow the rhythmic tune of our heartbeat. We are star-gazers, grass-grazers, and mostly meat-eaters. Above all, we are musicians born to declare the splendid glory of our Creator. Feel the music in the air, like August Rush. Feel the hoofbeat of the changing seasons. Feel the distinctive chirps and coos of birds. Feel the ruffling along the path of a treetop-climbing squirrel. Feel the tiny local hurricanes produced by a fluttering butterfly. Feel the unfolding of the petals in a wild flower. Feel the dirt-cracking of a new bamboo shoot. Feel the brushing strokes of chlorophyll, carotenoids and anthocyanins in mother nature's photoshop. Feel the huffing and puffing of a gusty wind, or the bemoaning of a breeze. Feel the moonlight echoing the sunshine. Feel the shooting stars, God's fireworks. Feel the pulsating of life's happenings inside and outside. Feel your own sixth sense. Feel God. Compose new music with your own life-sized notes.
Feel the numbers and curves. Remodel and sharpen your sense of math. This world is short-sighted and tunnel-visioned, seeing numbers printed on the paycheck, and curves sported by beauties skin-deep. Go beyond that. This is God's world. God is the unrivaled mathematician. Think after His thoughts. Mind His games. Feel numbers and curves that do tango together. Paint your own artworks with numbers and curves in life's whatever vocation.
Feel the pain. Feel the pain of the victimized, the short-changed, the vilified, the abused, the handicapped, the disadvantaged, and the underprivileged. Feel the holy pain on the Cross. Feel the compassionate pain inside you to extend a helping hand. In a world of getting even or getting more, hunker down as an altruist and peacemaker.
The world will be a better place because of what you do as advised.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Flash Like a Night Blooming Cereus (昙花一现)
When the Beijing Olympic Games furled its curtain and its closing ceremony was rebroadcast by NBC, one precious night blooming cereus unfurled its petals under the dark cover of the night on the backyard deck of my home. It was before 10 pm. We took a few pictures of the elegant blossom. It smelled pleasantly aromatic.
It was a rare treat to us in four years. Last blossom was in the night of Aug.12, 2004, after five years of cultivation and waiting. We were rewarded a double blooming then.
Excited, I broke the news first to the grandparents whose tender and gentle care contributed to the blooming. Then I called Henry the King who went back home with his Queen and princesses after watching part of the NBC broadcast with us. The King said he was already disrobed, ready to retire to bed. Apparently, even such rare blooming could not hold back the King's determination. Earlier at my humble abode, I massaged the King's hard-worked shoulder while he lied down on the comfy lazy boy chair, to the hearty laughter of all princesses present. Admittedly, my service lavishly rendered on the King did not add an ounce of persuasion to lure him back.
Persistent, I phoned the Zhaos, to no avail. The jet lag must have taken a toll on them. I quickly figured out that there was no point in calling anyone else.
This morning the Cereus already folded up its petals. Soon the flower will wither and disappear. The night blooming cereus is like a fast replay of the 16-day Beijing Olympic Games. It is gone before we are willing to let. If the blooming remains four years apart (2004, 2008), we will expect the next one during the London Olympic Games in the summer of 2012. Frankly, that is no short wait.
The 100 medals won by Chinese athletes, together with the remarkable feat showcased by the luminaries such as Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt, will be long remembered in Olympic history's annals.
The night blooming cereus reminds us once again the brevity and beauty of life. Before we know it, thinning hairs are silver-lining on our balding head, rippling wrinkles are rolling all over our body, decaying teeth are losing their grips to our gum, and bulging belly appears long before we are belly up. Laugh about it, we may get a youthful kick back, however fleeting it may be.
The lesson? As the preacher said, remember the Lord in the days of our youth.
It was a rare treat to us in four years. Last blossom was in the night of Aug.12, 2004, after five years of cultivation and waiting. We were rewarded a double blooming then.
Excited, I broke the news first to the grandparents whose tender and gentle care contributed to the blooming. Then I called Henry the King who went back home with his Queen and princesses after watching part of the NBC broadcast with us. The King said he was already disrobed, ready to retire to bed. Apparently, even such rare blooming could not hold back the King's determination. Earlier at my humble abode, I massaged the King's hard-worked shoulder while he lied down on the comfy lazy boy chair, to the hearty laughter of all princesses present. Admittedly, my service lavishly rendered on the King did not add an ounce of persuasion to lure him back.
Persistent, I phoned the Zhaos, to no avail. The jet lag must have taken a toll on them. I quickly figured out that there was no point in calling anyone else.
This morning the Cereus already folded up its petals. Soon the flower will wither and disappear. The night blooming cereus is like a fast replay of the 16-day Beijing Olympic Games. It is gone before we are willing to let. If the blooming remains four years apart (2004, 2008), we will expect the next one during the London Olympic Games in the summer of 2012. Frankly, that is no short wait.
The 100 medals won by Chinese athletes, together with the remarkable feat showcased by the luminaries such as Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt, will be long remembered in Olympic history's annals.
The night blooming cereus reminds us once again the brevity and beauty of life. Before we know it, thinning hairs are silver-lining on our balding head, rippling wrinkles are rolling all over our body, decaying teeth are losing their grips to our gum, and bulging belly appears long before we are belly up. Laugh about it, we may get a youthful kick back, however fleeting it may be.
The lesson? As the preacher said, remember the Lord in the days of our youth.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Halving and Pooling: A New Kind of American Dream
During the chill of economic downturn, my heart was warmed up a bit today by the Salwen story. The Salwen family in Atlanta, Georgia, downsized their spacious, 6500-sq ft home by 50% and donated half of the sale proceeds to help over 200,000 people in 30 poor villages of Ghana.
This concept of "halving", or scaling down by half, was the brain child of a young teen named Hannah Salwen and embraced by her parents and young brother. It represents a new kind of American dream.
Without realizing that I was similarly living this new American dream, I started doing this "halving" thing a few months ago. I decided to eat only one small bowl of rice for dinner, as opposed to two. That effectively cuts down my food intake by about half. Coupling this with no breakfast, I estimate that I have saved close to half of food resource every day.
This idea of halving every wasteful or undesirable thing can have a profound effect. If we lose our temper only half of the time, our home will be a doubly peaceful place. If we kill only half of the time idling or goofing around, we would have redeemed more time for serious and worthy stuff. If we lavish on ourselves with only half of budget and desire, we would have stacked up more to support the needy in the world.
Many have dreamed about communal living where a group of breadwinners pool their earnings to support each other in times of thick and thin. When one or more breadwinners are temporarily between jobs or permanently disabled, the pooled resource can easily support every family. This style of communal living has been tried throughout human history, from the patrilineal or matrilineal tribes, to the Essenes in Qumran community, to Jerusalem Christian commune (see Acts 4:32) in apostolic age, to the monasteries of monks, to Zinzendorf's Herrnhut, to the Opus Dei (exposed thanks to Da Vinci Code), and, unsuccessfully, Chairman Mao's commune system in China.
If you feel led to pool material resources and settle together in a new development, you are not alone. We may have to rekindle the right idea of right living in this global village.
In a very small step toward pooling, Jack and I have started car pooling to work. It saves gas and lessens air pollution. It augments our interactions and fellowship.
Care to pursue a new kind of American dream by halving? Care to pursue responsible communal living by pooling?
Halving and pooling may well be the mightiest arithmetic of subtraction and addition.
Let's go halving.
Let's go pooling.
This concept of "halving", or scaling down by half, was the brain child of a young teen named Hannah Salwen and embraced by her parents and young brother. It represents a new kind of American dream.
Without realizing that I was similarly living this new American dream, I started doing this "halving" thing a few months ago. I decided to eat only one small bowl of rice for dinner, as opposed to two. That effectively cuts down my food intake by about half. Coupling this with no breakfast, I estimate that I have saved close to half of food resource every day.
This idea of halving every wasteful or undesirable thing can have a profound effect. If we lose our temper only half of the time, our home will be a doubly peaceful place. If we kill only half of the time idling or goofing around, we would have redeemed more time for serious and worthy stuff. If we lavish on ourselves with only half of budget and desire, we would have stacked up more to support the needy in the world.
Many have dreamed about communal living where a group of breadwinners pool their earnings to support each other in times of thick and thin. When one or more breadwinners are temporarily between jobs or permanently disabled, the pooled resource can easily support every family. This style of communal living has been tried throughout human history, from the patrilineal or matrilineal tribes, to the Essenes in Qumran community, to Jerusalem Christian commune (see Acts 4:32) in apostolic age, to the monasteries of monks, to Zinzendorf's Herrnhut, to the Opus Dei (exposed thanks to Da Vinci Code), and, unsuccessfully, Chairman Mao's commune system in China.
If you feel led to pool material resources and settle together in a new development, you are not alone. We may have to rekindle the right idea of right living in this global village.
In a very small step toward pooling, Jack and I have started car pooling to work. It saves gas and lessens air pollution. It augments our interactions and fellowship.
Care to pursue a new kind of American dream by halving? Care to pursue responsible communal living by pooling?
Halving and pooling may well be the mightiest arithmetic of subtraction and addition.
Let's go halving.
Let's go pooling.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
念您─废墟中的羌族老妈妈 (Thinking of You, Qiang Mama)
寻您
在不眠的深夜
读您
四千年春秋
刻写的脸轮
塌下
了望塔
不再望了
祖宗的石楼
三吹三打
圆饼没了
只剩下挂面
一把
不忍吃
天上掉下的
救助物质
卓尔不群的尔玛依娜们
刚被世界发现
就结伴走了
去陪云云
只留下绣花鞋
十月的婚事
紧急告吹
杀一头牛
祭天
等候
失落的圣书
托马斯●托兰斯
百年梦想
托我
认您
作我的母亲
在不眠的深夜
读您
四千年春秋
刻写的脸轮
塌下
了望塔
不再望了
祖宗的石楼
三吹三打
圆饼没了
只剩下挂面
一把
不忍吃
天上掉下的
救助物质
卓尔不群的尔玛依娜们
刚被世界发现
就结伴走了
去陪云云
只留下绣花鞋
十月的婚事
紧急告吹
杀一头牛
祭天
等候
失落的圣书
托马斯●托兰斯
百年梦想
托我
认您
作我的母亲
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
耶稣如何看待天灾人祸 (What Would Jesus Say About Calamities?)
面对形形色色的天灾人祸，耶稣会如何回应呢？
让我们读路加福音第十三章头九节。
13:1 正当那时，有人将彼拉多使加利利人的血搀杂在他们祭物中的事，告诉耶稣。
13:2 耶稣说，你们以为这些加利利人比众加利利人更有罪，所以受这害麽。
13:3 我告诉你们，不是的。你们若不悔改，都要如此灭亡。
13:4 从前西罗亚楼倒塌了，压死十八个人，你们以为那些人比一切住在耶路撒冷的人更有罪麽。
13:5 我告诉你们，不是的。你们若不悔改，都要如此灭亡。
13:6 于是用比喻说，一个人有一棵无花果树，栽在葡萄园里。他来到树前梢果子，却找不着。
13:7 就对管园的说，看哪，我这三年，来到这无花果树前梢果子，竟找不着，把他砍了吧。何必白占地土呢。
13:8 管园的说，主阿，今年且留着，等我周围掘开土，加上粪。
13:9 以后若结果子便吧。不然再把他砍了。
从这一段经文，我们读出四方面的教导。
第一，死于天灾人祸的人并非是因为他们比暂时活着的人更有罪，以致遭遇特别的天谴。我们有理由相信，耶稣会对说三道四的世人说：你们以为那些死于五一二大地震的人比你们更有罪而受这害吗？我告诉你们，不是的！
从约伯记和约翰福音第九章的记载，我们发现，人受特别大的灾害与苦难，不能排除有神主权中超越人想象的美意，绝对不能头脑简单地归因于罪大恶极。事实上，诗篇73篇反倒告诉我们，恶人和狂傲人“死的时候，没有疼痛；他们的力气，却也壮实。他们不象别人受苦，也不象别人遭灾。”圣经提醒我们，人生在世，虽然免不了罪恶带来的患难与死亡，但苦难的大小与罪恶的多寡轻重没有简单的线性相关。所以我们没有理由对死人说三道四，猜测他们的罪恶大小。如果一定要用天谴这个敏感的词汇，那我们就一致地用到所有罪人身上，因为我们无一人能幸免于今生死亡的诅咒。从亚当到如今，我们都遭受了天谴。这是天大福音背后的天大坏消息。
第二，活着的人必须悔改归向神。这是在灾难面前的正确省思态度。耶稣没有去满足那些喜欢对死人说三道四的活人的好奇心理，他把锋芒直指活着的人：你们若不悔改，都要如此灭亡。耶稣当然不是指我们所有人的死法都一样，乃是警告不悔改的人，必然重蹈灭亡的覆辙。
死人已经无法再次面对天灾人祸而省思，需要深刻反思的只能是活着的人。我们都需要为自己和国家民族同胞的深重罪恶而深深悔改认罪。有人出於对圣经的不了解或不思悔改的态度而反感作为祭司身份的基督徒为别人的罪来到神面前忏悔的提法与作法。基督徒把自己与世人的罪恶带到神面前来认，并不是站在所谓道德制高点上，乃是以一个愿意认罪的罪人身份以及神所赐君尊祭司的身份，谦卑地来到那位断不以有罪为无罪的永生神面前，求神对己对人施恩怜悯拯救。我们基督徒呼吁世人悔改，这是福音的呼声，我们不可不传。尤其在灾难面前，我们更需要大声疾呼，劝活人抓住机会，趁着还有今日，赶紧与神和好。
第三，基督徒一方面作为被移栽在神葡萄园中的无花果树，理所当然要结出与属神生命恩典与本质相称的果子，断不可以白占地土，徒受恩典。这是面对灾难，属神的儿女需要深刻反省的。我们是否成了属灵的贪污犯？我们需要悔改，多结果子荣神益人。神借助灾难，不仅大声呼唤世人悔改，更是要警示神的儿女。如果没有信主的人是家外的浪子，那么基督徒是否是家中的浪子(见路加福音15)？
第四，基督徒另一方面作为园丁，还有义不容辞的责任，来做掘土施肥的福音耕耘工作，把神恩惠的福音传给这个大有需要的世代，不然，神砍伐的刀斧会随时临到他的林园。基督徒不可做一个失职的园丁，轻视自己属天的恩召、职责与使命。
鲁益思说，神在我们顺境中向我们轻言细语，在我们遭难时向我们大声疾呼。
我们固然时常耳聋，但如今听见神大声向我们疾呼了吗？
让我们读路加福音第十三章头九节。
13:1 正当那时，有人将彼拉多使加利利人的血搀杂在他们祭物中的事，告诉耶稣。
13:2 耶稣说，你们以为这些加利利人比众加利利人更有罪，所以受这害麽。
13:3 我告诉你们，不是的。你们若不悔改，都要如此灭亡。
13:4 从前西罗亚楼倒塌了，压死十八个人，你们以为那些人比一切住在耶路撒冷的人更有罪麽。
13:5 我告诉你们，不是的。你们若不悔改，都要如此灭亡。
13:6 于是用比喻说，一个人有一棵无花果树，栽在葡萄园里。他来到树前梢果子，却找不着。
13:7 就对管园的说，看哪，我这三年，来到这无花果树前梢果子，竟找不着，把他砍了吧。何必白占地土呢。
13:8 管园的说，主阿，今年且留着，等我周围掘开土，加上粪。
13:9 以后若结果子便吧。不然再把他砍了。
从这一段经文，我们读出四方面的教导。
第一，死于天灾人祸的人并非是因为他们比暂时活着的人更有罪，以致遭遇特别的天谴。我们有理由相信，耶稣会对说三道四的世人说：你们以为那些死于五一二大地震的人比你们更有罪而受这害吗？我告诉你们，不是的！
从约伯记和约翰福音第九章的记载，我们发现，人受特别大的灾害与苦难，不能排除有神主权中超越人想象的美意，绝对不能头脑简单地归因于罪大恶极。事实上，诗篇73篇反倒告诉我们，恶人和狂傲人“死的时候，没有疼痛；他们的力气，却也壮实。他们不象别人受苦，也不象别人遭灾。”圣经提醒我们，人生在世，虽然免不了罪恶带来的患难与死亡，但苦难的大小与罪恶的多寡轻重没有简单的线性相关。所以我们没有理由对死人说三道四，猜测他们的罪恶大小。如果一定要用天谴这个敏感的词汇，那我们就一致地用到所有罪人身上，因为我们无一人能幸免于今生死亡的诅咒。从亚当到如今，我们都遭受了天谴。这是天大福音背后的天大坏消息。
第二，活着的人必须悔改归向神。这是在灾难面前的正确省思态度。耶稣没有去满足那些喜欢对死人说三道四的活人的好奇心理，他把锋芒直指活着的人：你们若不悔改，都要如此灭亡。耶稣当然不是指我们所有人的死法都一样，乃是警告不悔改的人，必然重蹈灭亡的覆辙。
死人已经无法再次面对天灾人祸而省思，需要深刻反思的只能是活着的人。我们都需要为自己和国家民族同胞的深重罪恶而深深悔改认罪。有人出於对圣经的不了解或不思悔改的态度而反感作为祭司身份的基督徒为别人的罪来到神面前忏悔的提法与作法。基督徒把自己与世人的罪恶带到神面前来认，并不是站在所谓道德制高点上，乃是以一个愿意认罪的罪人身份以及神所赐君尊祭司的身份，谦卑地来到那位断不以有罪为无罪的永生神面前，求神对己对人施恩怜悯拯救。我们基督徒呼吁世人悔改，这是福音的呼声，我们不可不传。尤其在灾难面前，我们更需要大声疾呼，劝活人抓住机会，趁着还有今日，赶紧与神和好。
第三，基督徒一方面作为被移栽在神葡萄园中的无花果树，理所当然要结出与属神生命恩典与本质相称的果子，断不可以白占地土，徒受恩典。这是面对灾难，属神的儿女需要深刻反省的。我们是否成了属灵的贪污犯？我们需要悔改，多结果子荣神益人。神借助灾难，不仅大声呼唤世人悔改，更是要警示神的儿女。如果没有信主的人是家外的浪子，那么基督徒是否是家中的浪子(见路加福音15)？
第四，基督徒另一方面作为园丁，还有义不容辞的责任，来做掘土施肥的福音耕耘工作，把神恩惠的福音传给这个大有需要的世代，不然，神砍伐的刀斧会随时临到他的林园。基督徒不可做一个失职的园丁，轻视自己属天的恩召、职责与使命。
鲁益思说，神在我们顺境中向我们轻言细语，在我们遭难时向我们大声疾呼。
我们固然时常耳聋，但如今听见神大声向我们疾呼了吗？
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
孩子，我们向你请罪——悼北川高一学生姜栋怀 (We Beg for Your Forgiveness)
“爸爸妈妈对不起，
愿你们一定走好。”
是你永垂不朽的绝笔。
何能如此？
神州痛失的骄子，
我们都严重亏欠了你！
我们贪了属你的人民币。
校舍如同豆腐渣滓，
摇身变成不可能的墓地。
我们夺了属你的墨汁。
你用棍子刻写拳拳赤子之心，
留下江河断流方有的痕迹。
我们扣了属你的青春期，
长年打工辗转在都市，
将你隔代托养放逐乡里。
我们编了无神唯物的梦呓，
高喊只此一生别无来世，
让你孤魂面对永生与永死。
我们伤天又害你。
你最需要时，
我们都缺了席。
愿你们一定走好。”
是你永垂不朽的绝笔。
何能如此？
神州痛失的骄子，
我们都严重亏欠了你！
我们贪了属你的人民币。
校舍如同豆腐渣滓，
摇身变成不可能的墓地。
我们夺了属你的墨汁。
你用棍子刻写拳拳赤子之心，
留下江河断流方有的痕迹。
我们扣了属你的青春期，
长年打工辗转在都市，
将你隔代托养放逐乡里。
我们编了无神唯物的梦呓，
高喊只此一生别无来世，
让你孤魂面对永生与永死。
我们伤天又害你。
你最需要时，
我们都缺了席。
Sunday, May 18, 2008
一封写给上帝的公开信 (An Open Letter to God)
尊敬的上帝，
您这一周的心意小子们似明端倪，但仍在继续深入领会之中。您用创造天地的大手(请允许我们用这种拟人的语汇来表达)，握住（这诚然也是一种象征的说法）神州大地的粮仓腹地，就是素有天府之国美誉的四川，让大地短时间内抖动了数千次，震醒我们麻木不仁的心灵，催逼我们民族披麻蒙灰，悔改归正，让神州成为名符其实属神的国度。小子们如今斗胆犯颜直谏，请您松松手，让同胞有喘息之机，闭门思过，回归真神。理由如下：
第一，灾民灾情惨不忍睹。无所不知监察万人内心的您自然用不着小子们申报，数万人已经丧生(换用圣经的话语，这些您所创造的骨肉同胞暂时睡了，安息了，这是我们深信不疑的)，十数万人受伤(许多断胳膊断腿的，让我们旁观者都痛在心里)，数百万人无家可归，只能住简陋帐篷，一时无法有家可回。高考即临，我们也为受灾区的考生担忧。
第二，认得您的少数子民心里明白您的举动全无恶意，都是为了中华民族的的最大属灵好处。我们发誓洗心革面，一改从前贪污您恩典的恶习，从属灵贪污犯的黑暗光景中走出来(当然，这有赖圣灵的大力帮助)。我们决心不放过任何一个机会，传扬您爱子耶稣基督救人的天大福音。求您赦免我们属灵贪污的大罪，正如您乐意借助耶稣基督的宝血，涂抹包括我们人数众多的同胞在内的世人的罪过。我们的的确确大大得罪了天，得罪了地，得罪了彼此，总而言之，得罪了您。
第三，部分不认识您的人继续不认识您。您惊天动地的举动似乎并没有打动顽石心肠。不知道这是否是您的本意，让刚硬的人心更加刚硬。如果真是这个意思，小子们也实在无话可说了。您该做的也做到了。
第四，灾难把人性残缺不全的神性光辉与美善给发扬光大出来了。您想必已经知道那些感人的故事(比如父母亲舍己身保护幼小儿女，救援队员挥汗撒泪流血舍命救灾)，小子就不一一列举细说了。广大骨肉同胞与地球村的兄弟居民，都纷纷解囊相助，实在窝心感人。我们一定牢记您的教导：爱人如己。我们做得还很不够，离您的高标准严要求还太远太远。我们一定继续学习与实践施比受更为有福的经训，不是灾难一过，我们就故态复萌，回头过自己滋润的小家日子，忘了世界上还有许多需要我们继续关心的人。
第五，我们中国人对数字八情有独钟的迷信，随着512的八级大地震(距离08/8/8晚上8点的奥运会开幕典礼相隔88天)，已经被牢牢地打上了一个并不吉祥的历史烙印。在西国人还没有改掉他们对数值十三的恐惧感之前，我们会摈弃对八的迷信，转而不怕四（死），因为有主同在。不是八使人发，使人发的最终还是您，毕竟一切的物力人力智力的最终来源都是您。使人死的当然也不是四，是我们的罪孽而带来的神圣审判。
一连三天的全国哀悼日，我们一定节食禁食，以素心素面为装饰，求您大大赐给我们忧伤痛悔的灵，因为您真的非同一般地看重这个。
信开头的建言，小子们衷心希望您悦纳。
问耶稣基督好，愿他在天上看见我们的骨肉同胞归主而心满意足。深愿圣灵大大作工在本来就属于您的神州大地上。
一群斗胆写信的小子们
您这一周的心意小子们似明端倪，但仍在继续深入领会之中。您用创造天地的大手(请允许我们用这种拟人的语汇来表达)，握住（这诚然也是一种象征的说法）神州大地的粮仓腹地，就是素有天府之国美誉的四川，让大地短时间内抖动了数千次，震醒我们麻木不仁的心灵，催逼我们民族披麻蒙灰，悔改归正，让神州成为名符其实属神的国度。小子们如今斗胆犯颜直谏，请您松松手，让同胞有喘息之机，闭门思过，回归真神。理由如下：
第一，灾民灾情惨不忍睹。无所不知监察万人内心的您自然用不着小子们申报，数万人已经丧生(换用圣经的话语，这些您所创造的骨肉同胞暂时睡了，安息了，这是我们深信不疑的)，十数万人受伤(许多断胳膊断腿的，让我们旁观者都痛在心里)，数百万人无家可归，只能住简陋帐篷，一时无法有家可回。高考即临，我们也为受灾区的考生担忧。
第二，认得您的少数子民心里明白您的举动全无恶意，都是为了中华民族的的最大属灵好处。我们发誓洗心革面，一改从前贪污您恩典的恶习，从属灵贪污犯的黑暗光景中走出来(当然，这有赖圣灵的大力帮助)。我们决心不放过任何一个机会，传扬您爱子耶稣基督救人的天大福音。求您赦免我们属灵贪污的大罪，正如您乐意借助耶稣基督的宝血，涂抹包括我们人数众多的同胞在内的世人的罪过。我们的的确确大大得罪了天，得罪了地，得罪了彼此，总而言之，得罪了您。
第三，部分不认识您的人继续不认识您。您惊天动地的举动似乎并没有打动顽石心肠。不知道这是否是您的本意，让刚硬的人心更加刚硬。如果真是这个意思，小子们也实在无话可说了。您该做的也做到了。
第四，灾难把人性残缺不全的神性光辉与美善给发扬光大出来了。您想必已经知道那些感人的故事(比如父母亲舍己身保护幼小儿女，救援队员挥汗撒泪流血舍命救灾)，小子就不一一列举细说了。广大骨肉同胞与地球村的兄弟居民，都纷纷解囊相助，实在窝心感人。我们一定牢记您的教导：爱人如己。我们做得还很不够，离您的高标准严要求还太远太远。我们一定继续学习与实践施比受更为有福的经训，不是灾难一过，我们就故态复萌，回头过自己滋润的小家日子，忘了世界上还有许多需要我们继续关心的人。
第五，我们中国人对数字八情有独钟的迷信，随着512的八级大地震(距离08/8/8晚上8点的奥运会开幕典礼相隔88天)，已经被牢牢地打上了一个并不吉祥的历史烙印。在西国人还没有改掉他们对数值十三的恐惧感之前，我们会摈弃对八的迷信，转而不怕四（死），因为有主同在。不是八使人发，使人发的最终还是您，毕竟一切的物力人力智力的最终来源都是您。使人死的当然也不是四，是我们的罪孽而带来的神圣审判。
一连三天的全国哀悼日，我们一定节食禁食，以素心素面为装饰，求您大大赐给我们忧伤痛悔的灵，因为您真的非同一般地看重这个。
信开头的建言，小子们衷心希望您悦纳。
问耶稣基督好，愿他在天上看见我们的骨肉同胞归主而心满意足。深愿圣灵大大作工在本来就属于您的神州大地上。
一群斗胆写信的小子们
Saturday, May 17, 2008
天问─为什么有人遭灾？(Why Are People Suffering?)
这个问题有两方面：为什么有某某人遭灾？为什么有任何人遭灾？
“哎！难道我们从神手里得福，不也受祸吗？”这是旧约圣经里记载的那位无辜受苦的约伯向发怨言的妻子的忠告(约伯记2:10)。
约伯的朋友们轮番替约伯家人与自己无辜受苦作出在他们看来合理的解释(比如说约伯得罪神而遭灾)，都不得要领。最后神自己在旋风中向约伯说话，也没有直接回答为什么约伯无端受苦。神只是用问题提醒约伯，神造大地的时候约伯在哪里。言外之意，约伯既然不是神，当然无法象神那样测透苦难的真相。换言之，神并没有向约伯解开他自己遭灾受苦的背后原因。作为读者的你我多知道一点，是撒但的主意，经过神设有最后限度的许可。但为何神如此许可，我们仍然没有答案。
故事的高潮在约伯记的结尾。神继续赐福给约伯，让他财产倍增，接着说，“他也有七个儿子，三个女儿”。乍读来，发现他的儿女并没有倍增，仍然是七儿三女。但我们别忘了，早先在灾难中死去的那七儿三女并没有永远失去，只是暂时安息在神的怀抱。如此算来，约伯的儿女也象财产一样倍增了。这样，约伯所失去的儿女，只是暂时的。神是我们生命的起初创造者，也是维系者、拥有者和保守者。
圣经里另有无辜受苦的记载，比如雅各的儿子约瑟，先知但以理、耶利米，约翰福音第九章记载的那个生来瞎眼的犹太盲人。当然，最无辜的受苦者非耶稣基督莫属。
有的人遭灾是别人的无心疏忽，人为错误甚至来自魔鬼撒但怂恿鼓噪而有的罪恶。还有些是所谓自然灾害。归根结底，自然灾害的本源仍然是当初始祖犯罪而遭致“地受咒诅”。毕竟我们暂时还生活在一个以死亡为主旋律的宇宙里。一个通常静悄悄多方维持地上生命的板块构造，也带来地震灾难，就如给予我们各样必要感觉的神经，也会忠实地通知我们痛不欲生的痛感滋味。带来通行便利的汽车也能轧死撞死人和动物。支撑轮船与飞机的流体也能够颠覆它们。总而言之，我们暂时生活在一个利弊兼得、好坏双收的宇宙里。这当然不是完美的宇宙，但它属於暂时寄居在此世界的我们。我们热切向往一个更美的家园，是未来天上的。
一切苦难的大小因由之所以带来苦难，仍然是出於神的命定。没有灾难是没有神主权的许可而自动发生的。神对人受苦决非持虐待狂心态或者袖手旁观。神在十字架上参与人间的苦难。神象一个严父慈父，他必借助灾难在内的手段，责罚管教他的儿女，也成就十字架的救恩。
为什么有某某人遭灾？因为有我们不能完全测透的种种原因。
为什么有任何人遭灾？因为我们都生活在一个受罪恶玷污，被神咒诅，待最后拯救的宇宙里。
神许可灾难的发生，借助灾难向世人说话，催人悔改归向神，让灾难转化为永生的祝福。
遭灾的人是否比别人更有罪？耶稣一而再的否定了：“我告诉你们，不是的！你们若不悔改，都要如此灭亡。”(路加福音13:3,5)
人遭灾难并非因为他们比其他人罪大。世人面对灾难，悔改归神才是正路。
神借助512大地震，怀抱起成千上万的死难同胞，摇憾全中国人的心灵。正如耶稣开始传道时的宣告：“日期满了，神的国近了！你们当悔改，信福音。”(马可福音1:15)
灾难后的重建不能局限在物质的层面，必须面对属灵的重建。这是当代华人基督徒义不容辞的使命。
让我们为受苦同胞献上祷告、奉献、服侍，积极带领同胞信主归神，得享永福，让神州成为名符其实的神州，中华民族成为尊神敬神属神爱神的民族。
“哎！难道我们从神手里得福，不也受祸吗？”这是旧约圣经里记载的那位无辜受苦的约伯向发怨言的妻子的忠告(约伯记2:10)。
约伯的朋友们轮番替约伯家人与自己无辜受苦作出在他们看来合理的解释(比如说约伯得罪神而遭灾)，都不得要领。最后神自己在旋风中向约伯说话，也没有直接回答为什么约伯无端受苦。神只是用问题提醒约伯，神造大地的时候约伯在哪里。言外之意，约伯既然不是神，当然无法象神那样测透苦难的真相。换言之，神并没有向约伯解开他自己遭灾受苦的背后原因。作为读者的你我多知道一点，是撒但的主意，经过神设有最后限度的许可。但为何神如此许可，我们仍然没有答案。
故事的高潮在约伯记的结尾。神继续赐福给约伯，让他财产倍增，接着说，“他也有七个儿子，三个女儿”。乍读来，发现他的儿女并没有倍增，仍然是七儿三女。但我们别忘了，早先在灾难中死去的那七儿三女并没有永远失去，只是暂时安息在神的怀抱。如此算来，约伯的儿女也象财产一样倍增了。这样，约伯所失去的儿女，只是暂时的。神是我们生命的起初创造者，也是维系者、拥有者和保守者。
圣经里另有无辜受苦的记载，比如雅各的儿子约瑟，先知但以理、耶利米，约翰福音第九章记载的那个生来瞎眼的犹太盲人。当然，最无辜的受苦者非耶稣基督莫属。
有的人遭灾是别人的无心疏忽，人为错误甚至来自魔鬼撒但怂恿鼓噪而有的罪恶。还有些是所谓自然灾害。归根结底，自然灾害的本源仍然是当初始祖犯罪而遭致“地受咒诅”。毕竟我们暂时还生活在一个以死亡为主旋律的宇宙里。一个通常静悄悄多方维持地上生命的板块构造，也带来地震灾难，就如给予我们各样必要感觉的神经，也会忠实地通知我们痛不欲生的痛感滋味。带来通行便利的汽车也能轧死撞死人和动物。支撑轮船与飞机的流体也能够颠覆它们。总而言之，我们暂时生活在一个利弊兼得、好坏双收的宇宙里。这当然不是完美的宇宙，但它属於暂时寄居在此世界的我们。我们热切向往一个更美的家园，是未来天上的。
一切苦难的大小因由之所以带来苦难，仍然是出於神的命定。没有灾难是没有神主权的许可而自动发生的。神对人受苦决非持虐待狂心态或者袖手旁观。神在十字架上参与人间的苦难。神象一个严父慈父，他必借助灾难在内的手段，责罚管教他的儿女，也成就十字架的救恩。
为什么有某某人遭灾？因为有我们不能完全测透的种种原因。
为什么有任何人遭灾？因为我们都生活在一个受罪恶玷污，被神咒诅，待最后拯救的宇宙里。
神许可灾难的发生，借助灾难向世人说话，催人悔改归向神，让灾难转化为永生的祝福。
遭灾的人是否比别人更有罪？耶稣一而再的否定了：“我告诉你们，不是的！你们若不悔改，都要如此灭亡。”(路加福音13:3,5)
人遭灾难并非因为他们比其他人罪大。世人面对灾难，悔改归神才是正路。
神借助512大地震，怀抱起成千上万的死难同胞，摇憾全中国人的心灵。正如耶稣开始传道时的宣告：“日期满了，神的国近了！你们当悔改，信福音。”(马可福音1:15)
灾难后的重建不能局限在物质的层面，必须面对属灵的重建。这是当代华人基督徒义不容辞的使命。
让我们为受苦同胞献上祷告、奉献、服侍，积极带领同胞信主归神，得享永福，让神州成为名符其实的神州，中华民族成为尊神敬神属神爱神的民族。
Thursday, May 15, 2008
死亡的省思 (Meditating Death)
死亡的确是一件可怕的事，尤其是突如其来的天灾人祸导致的大规模生命死亡。
我们人类共同生活在一个时刻充满了死亡的地球上，宇宙间。现在地球上每一天死亡的人数不低于上次东南亚大海啸死亡人数的总和。也就是平均差不多每秒死两个人。当然，每秒钟也有差不多两个人哭哭啼啼（毕竟没有经过自己事先同意与选择而）来到世界上报到，开始不断接近死亡终点的生命之旅。
大的天灾人祸，会让死亡曲线临时有一个局部的涨落。涨落过后，死亡曲线继续其四平八稳的无情延伸。如果未来有机会用放大镜看看这条没有间断的曲线，我们都必将找到属于自己的时间空间与死亡细节。死亡是如此确定的一件事，虽然暂时活著，我们心里都清楚，有一天我们要死。我们对死亡无可奈何。我们积极锻炼不断衰老的身体，以期尽量充满精力地活著（所谓活得有劲），算是垂死挣扎的一种。我们希望自己有一个好死，最好是寿终正寝，无疾或轻病少痛而终。既然是病死，想必病得不真轻。想活下去的人基本活不过百，就与死相遇。不想如此活下去的人又找不到更好的活法，于是多选择自杀。我无法认同自杀者的绝望，但我不得不佩服他们毅然决然不辞死亡的勇气。
让我们不无惊讶的一件事，正是我们对死的必然性之默许。不默许又怎么办？我们如此回答自己的心。我们的要求似乎不高，只是不要死得太难看就成。我们就好象被判死刑的犯人，希望死得体面一些，体有完肤就好。我们从天灾人祸受害者的死亡经历里，发现我们心里深处的恐惧感。我自己从别人的死，提前看见了自己的死。不管将来美容师如何在我没有生命气息的脸上化妆，我现在就深知，我毕竟终于死了，停止了与这个世界的生命与友谊联结。如果我被某种残酷的癌症折磨到生命干枯而死，我的死状，不一定比天灾人祸的受害者更好看，而且我生病受苦的时间，很可能会比他们更长更恐怖。这样比较起来，我发现无论怎样死，都于心不甘，值得抗议。问题是，向谁抗议？问天天不应，问地地不应。问人，众说纷纭。
世人不都对死有同样的看法。有人认为死不过是一个生命大观园的必需。如果我坚持不死，我就会不断地消费著这个资源有限的世界。我死了，至少不再当消费者，而且我身上数以亿万计的原子，迟早会分别找到新的暂时栖身之地（可怜原子们要这样被召来唤去的）。换言之，我死后贡献出一百多斤重的原子（当然，水分占了一大半，但水也是生命的必需品）。有人认为死是一个过渡性的门槛，经过死亡进入到新一轮的生命旅程（所谓来生）。形形色色的宗教在这一点上可谓大有文章可做。
如果死亡真的是一个门槛，进入新的旅程，那我还真可以劝通自己在战战兢兢里依稀勇敢地接受死亡方式的随机安排。看过蝌蚪变青蛙，毛毛虫变花蝴蝶等生命的蜕变，我们不难发现，转化的过程毕竟不是闹著玩的儿戏，蝌蚪与毛毛虫们若有知有情，也一定会畏缩不前的。当然我承认，它们亲眼看见好戏在后头，很可能心向往之。但绝对不排除，否认蜕变真相的蝌蚪与毛毛虫们，可能会嗤之以鼻，不屑一顾的。直到它们不得已进入转变的痛苦过程，它们仍然可能会怀疑到底。即使成了跳游双项能手（应该是能脚）的青蛙与展翅飞舞的蝴蝶，他们不一定记得自己曾经沧海的过去。
我们的世界里有这样的蜕变，可以让我们心向往之吗？
圣经宣称，黑色星期五十字架上的耶稣，向我们演示了一个生命蜕变的痛苦过程。星期天黎明曙光中复活后，他向失魂落魄的门徒展示了死而复活的生命。耶稣完成了人类历史上独一无二的壮举，死亡还真是一个可以越过的门槛。死亡固然是咒诅，但在耶稣基督那里，死亡被生命吞灭了。
死亡是这边的落日，复活是那边的旭日。
死亡，终于给我带来了一线安慰。它把守著门，召唤我越过。
我开始更乐观地走向死亡。
我们人类共同生活在一个时刻充满了死亡的地球上，宇宙间。现在地球上每一天死亡的人数不低于上次东南亚大海啸死亡人数的总和。也就是平均差不多每秒死两个人。当然，每秒钟也有差不多两个人哭哭啼啼（毕竟没有经过自己事先同意与选择而）来到世界上报到，开始不断接近死亡终点的生命之旅。
大的天灾人祸，会让死亡曲线临时有一个局部的涨落。涨落过后，死亡曲线继续其四平八稳的无情延伸。如果未来有机会用放大镜看看这条没有间断的曲线，我们都必将找到属于自己的时间空间与死亡细节。死亡是如此确定的一件事，虽然暂时活著，我们心里都清楚，有一天我们要死。我们对死亡无可奈何。我们积极锻炼不断衰老的身体，以期尽量充满精力地活著（所谓活得有劲），算是垂死挣扎的一种。我们希望自己有一个好死，最好是寿终正寝，无疾或轻病少痛而终。既然是病死，想必病得不真轻。想活下去的人基本活不过百，就与死相遇。不想如此活下去的人又找不到更好的活法，于是多选择自杀。我无法认同自杀者的绝望，但我不得不佩服他们毅然决然不辞死亡的勇气。
让我们不无惊讶的一件事，正是我们对死的必然性之默许。不默许又怎么办？我们如此回答自己的心。我们的要求似乎不高，只是不要死得太难看就成。我们就好象被判死刑的犯人，希望死得体面一些，体有完肤就好。我们从天灾人祸受害者的死亡经历里，发现我们心里深处的恐惧感。我自己从别人的死，提前看见了自己的死。不管将来美容师如何在我没有生命气息的脸上化妆，我现在就深知，我毕竟终于死了，停止了与这个世界的生命与友谊联结。如果我被某种残酷的癌症折磨到生命干枯而死，我的死状，不一定比天灾人祸的受害者更好看，而且我生病受苦的时间，很可能会比他们更长更恐怖。这样比较起来，我发现无论怎样死，都于心不甘，值得抗议。问题是，向谁抗议？问天天不应，问地地不应。问人，众说纷纭。
世人不都对死有同样的看法。有人认为死不过是一个生命大观园的必需。如果我坚持不死，我就会不断地消费著这个资源有限的世界。我死了，至少不再当消费者，而且我身上数以亿万计的原子，迟早会分别找到新的暂时栖身之地（可怜原子们要这样被召来唤去的）。换言之，我死后贡献出一百多斤重的原子（当然，水分占了一大半，但水也是生命的必需品）。有人认为死是一个过渡性的门槛，经过死亡进入到新一轮的生命旅程（所谓来生）。形形色色的宗教在这一点上可谓大有文章可做。
如果死亡真的是一个门槛，进入新的旅程，那我还真可以劝通自己在战战兢兢里依稀勇敢地接受死亡方式的随机安排。看过蝌蚪变青蛙，毛毛虫变花蝴蝶等生命的蜕变，我们不难发现，转化的过程毕竟不是闹著玩的儿戏，蝌蚪与毛毛虫们若有知有情，也一定会畏缩不前的。当然我承认，它们亲眼看见好戏在后头，很可能心向往之。但绝对不排除，否认蜕变真相的蝌蚪与毛毛虫们，可能会嗤之以鼻，不屑一顾的。直到它们不得已进入转变的痛苦过程，它们仍然可能会怀疑到底。即使成了跳游双项能手（应该是能脚）的青蛙与展翅飞舞的蝴蝶，他们不一定记得自己曾经沧海的过去。
我们的世界里有这样的蜕变，可以让我们心向往之吗？
圣经宣称，黑色星期五十字架上的耶稣，向我们演示了一个生命蜕变的痛苦过程。星期天黎明曙光中复活后，他向失魂落魄的门徒展示了死而复活的生命。耶稣完成了人类历史上独一无二的壮举，死亡还真是一个可以越过的门槛。死亡固然是咒诅，但在耶稣基督那里，死亡被生命吞灭了。
死亡是这边的落日，复活是那边的旭日。
死亡，终于给我带来了一线安慰。它把守著门，召唤我越过。
我开始更乐观地走向死亡。
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
孩子，我为你哭泣 (Children, I Weep for You)
梦游中惊魂遇见你
(Met you in my nightmarish dream walk)
你在地的那边
(You stake out on the other side of the Earth)
我在这边
(I am stuck here)
隔着的不是海水
(Separating us is not ocean)
是泪的汪洋
(but sea of tears)
固然迟早都要远行
(Sooner or later we must all pack up and travel afar)
但如此大规模出塞
(But such massive sudden exodus)
巴山石心何忍
(pains even the Sichuan mountains' stony heart)
蜀水柔情何堪
(and tunes your hometown's rivers to songs of elegy)
求你走得
(How I wish you departed)
再慢点
(a bit slower)
再晚些
(a bit later)
跟爹妈亲个嘴
(after you kissed your parents)
拥个抱
(and hugged them one last time)
但一脸稚嫩的你
(But a baby-faced you)
拒绝崩山碎石的胁迫
(refused the oppression of fallen rocks)
冲破暴风骤雨的淫威
(and the bully of downpouring storm)
你跳出地深处的黑暗
(You jumped out of the darkness of the deep)
跑进天光普照下
(and leaped under the shining heavenly light)
世外的桃源
(into the yonder world)
悲痛中的祈福
(My prayer amid grieving misery)
折射出共同的期待
(reflects a common wish)
你答应我
(You promise me)
破涕为笑的团圆
(a reunion that will turn my weeping into jolly laughing)
(Met you in my nightmarish dream walk)
你在地的那边
(You stake out on the other side of the Earth)
我在这边
(I am stuck here)
隔着的不是海水
(Separating us is not ocean)
是泪的汪洋
(but sea of tears)
固然迟早都要远行
(Sooner or later we must all pack up and travel afar)
但如此大规模出塞
(But such massive sudden exodus)
巴山石心何忍
(pains even the Sichuan mountains' stony heart)
蜀水柔情何堪
(and tunes your hometown's rivers to songs of elegy)
求你走得
(How I wish you departed)
再慢点
(a bit slower)
再晚些
(a bit later)
跟爹妈亲个嘴
(after you kissed your parents)
拥个抱
(and hugged them one last time)
但一脸稚嫩的你
(But a baby-faced you)
拒绝崩山碎石的胁迫
(refused the oppression of fallen rocks)
冲破暴风骤雨的淫威
(and the bully of downpouring storm)
你跳出地深处的黑暗
(You jumped out of the darkness of the deep)
跑进天光普照下
(and leaped under the shining heavenly light)
世外的桃源
(into the yonder world)
悲痛中的祈福
(My prayer amid grieving misery)
折射出共同的期待
(reflects a common wish)
你答应我
(You promise me)
破涕为笑的团圆
(a reunion that will turn my weeping into jolly laughing)
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Celebrating Mother's Day
The sun is brightly peeking through the window. The breeze is gently ruffling the plum leaves outside. The dark jade pasture is littered with remnants of the last few cherry flowers freshly fallen overnight. The neighborhood street is characteristically tranquil on Sunday morning.
Our kids are already up at 8 am, after watching with us, back from Saturday night church service, the "Pearl Harbor" movie till almost 1 am . They are busy going in the kitchen, chatting, cooking and cleaning. The family tradition of kids serving parents breakfast in bedroom, on our birthday weekend and special days like this, was thankfully established a few years ago without our asking.
Samuel is the chef, Sarah and Stephanie are the sidekicks. Included in today's breakfast menu is a brand new dish that Samuel invented only a day ago. We shall call it "sliced brown sausage, orange pepper and white onion". It is both delicious to our taste buds and pleasant to our eyes.
As usual, the full breakfast menu came with a handcrafted card filled with words of appreciation from three children. Sarah colorfully designed the card cover showing mom and daughter with patched paper cut. Stephanie used 15 lines of acrostic to enumerate her fond feelings for HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY". By the time she wrote for the last Y, she was imaginative enough to say: Yo-yo's go up and down, but you stay up".
Again, our dog helped celebrating the day in her own little way, by rushing upstairs and jumping to our bed to be our company. Needless to say, she got to taste the sausage, fruit salad, and a piece of sunny side up egg.
While much work of sorts are filling up our time between breakfast and dinner, our hearts are delighted on this special day.
Happy mother's day to every mother.
Our kids are already up at 8 am, after watching with us, back from Saturday night church service, the "Pearl Harbor" movie till almost 1 am . They are busy going in the kitchen, chatting, cooking and cleaning. The family tradition of kids serving parents breakfast in bedroom, on our birthday weekend and special days like this, was thankfully established a few years ago without our asking.
Samuel is the chef, Sarah and Stephanie are the sidekicks. Included in today's breakfast menu is a brand new dish that Samuel invented only a day ago. We shall call it "sliced brown sausage, orange pepper and white onion". It is both delicious to our taste buds and pleasant to our eyes.
As usual, the full breakfast menu came with a handcrafted card filled with words of appreciation from three children. Sarah colorfully designed the card cover showing mom and daughter with patched paper cut. Stephanie used 15 lines of acrostic to enumerate her fond feelings for HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY". By the time she wrote for the last Y, she was imaginative enough to say: Yo-yo's go up and down, but you stay up".
Again, our dog helped celebrating the day in her own little way, by rushing upstairs and jumping to our bed to be our company. Needless to say, she got to taste the sausage, fruit salad, and a piece of sunny side up egg.
While much work of sorts are filling up our time between breakfast and dinner, our hearts are delighted on this special day.
Happy mother's day to every mother.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Reunion Under the Gateway Arch and on the Mighty Mississippi
A scientific symposium held this week in St. Louis afforded me a rare chance of visiting the Gateway Arch and the mighty Mississippi for the very first time. It also occasioned a reunion with three schoolmates.
At the opening reception party Monday night under the Gateway Arch, I literally stumbled upon a former classmate of my graduate school, 18 years after not seeing each other. H is in charge of reagent sales for the company that sponsored the opening reception.
At the riverboat party the next night sponsored by another vendor, I met a couple, again after 18 years of no contact. The couple now works for NIH, after many years in drug industry. Standing in the drizzling rain on the deck, I could not help but savoring the miracle encounters.
On the riverboat, a white-haired old man dressed as the resurrected Mark Twain greeted us. He autographed for me in the gift book "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" with these words: Report on my death have been an exaggeration. During a dinner table chat, he explained the reason for the penname "Mark Twain".
In Wednesday night's closing ceremony at the NASCAR play ground, I met a postdoc working for a classmate of mine in Baltimore. He had two hole-in-one puttings on a mini-golf course. My classmate was said to have trimmed his handicap of golfing significantly.
Apparently, there is a lot of catch up to do for me.
At the opening reception party Monday night under the Gateway Arch, I literally stumbled upon a former classmate of my graduate school, 18 years after not seeing each other. H is in charge of reagent sales for the company that sponsored the opening reception.
At the riverboat party the next night sponsored by another vendor, I met a couple, again after 18 years of no contact. The couple now works for NIH, after many years in drug industry. Standing in the drizzling rain on the deck, I could not help but savoring the miracle encounters.
On the riverboat, a white-haired old man dressed as the resurrected Mark Twain greeted us. He autographed for me in the gift book "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" with these words: Report on my death have been an exaggeration. During a dinner table chat, he explained the reason for the penname "Mark Twain".
In Wednesday night's closing ceremony at the NASCAR play ground, I met a postdoc working for a classmate of mine in Baltimore. He had two hole-in-one puttings on a mini-golf course. My classmate was said to have trimmed his handicap of golfing significantly.
Apparently, there is a lot of catch up to do for me.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Easter Reflection: Unity with God and Man
Amid the intensifying hype of Presidential hopefuls and the depressing blight of economic recession, Easter celebrates the risen Lord that offers the best and brightest hope of all mankind.
The racial divide much discussed recently focuses on the Black and White and how their votes will shape the outcome of this November's general election. Barack Obama, half black and half white, promises to unite the country. That is certainly a noble goal worth our clapping at and clamoring for. But can he do it? That is the question to be answered.
When Christ came, his first and foremost goal was to reconcile mankind to God, and in so doing, reconcile mankind with each other as well. If we judge the present division among all peoples, especially within Christendom, one may conclude that even Christ has yet to fulfill that noble goal. So has Christ failed?
Nay!
In one of the parables about the Kingdom of God, Christ clearly illustrated that wheat and tare would grow together until the day of harvest, when the tares will be bundled for burning and wheat gathered for keeping. It appears then that division and conflict between good and evil will be inevitable at the present age. Even within those who profess the name of Christ, Christ sternly warned that not everyone who acknowledges his name would enter the Kingdom of God, save those who do the will of God.
In the end, while every nation, every people, and every language will be fully represented in the Kingdom of God, the ultimate United Nation, not every individual will be united there. Those who heed to the call of unity with God will also live in heavenly unity with each other. Those who reject the call of unity with God will live in another kind of reality apart from God.
Thus, even God does not eventually unite everyone in one camp. A choice of life and death is given. Then what does it mean to unite Black and White, and, may I add, Hispanics and Asians? It seems to me that racial unity is loosely maintained on the ground of mutual respect for their not easily reconcilable differences. Unity that is totally blind to diversity (be it color and creed and whatever else) is not realistically attainable. Unity despite diversity is seductively inviting. A possible Presidency is being built on that promised hope.
In a racially segregated society, separation from fellow citizens is socially painful. In a depressed economy, separation from job and wealth is financially painful. In the practice of faith, dying to the old self that is at war with the new self is spiritually painful. In the twilight hour of one's life, imminent separation from loved ones and breath of life is emotionally painful. In the age to come, separation from God the life giver is eternally painful.
Life is full of painful experiences and choices. The way of suffering (Via Dolorosa) on Good Friday also leads the way to glory on the Easter Morning. Those of us who are still breathing live before the sunset of Friday. Those who have died rest in the quietness of Saturday. All will wake up on a future Easter Morning, some to eternal life, others to eternal death.
The racial divide much discussed recently focuses on the Black and White and how their votes will shape the outcome of this November's general election. Barack Obama, half black and half white, promises to unite the country. That is certainly a noble goal worth our clapping at and clamoring for. But can he do it? That is the question to be answered.
When Christ came, his first and foremost goal was to reconcile mankind to God, and in so doing, reconcile mankind with each other as well. If we judge the present division among all peoples, especially within Christendom, one may conclude that even Christ has yet to fulfill that noble goal. So has Christ failed?
Nay!
In one of the parables about the Kingdom of God, Christ clearly illustrated that wheat and tare would grow together until the day of harvest, when the tares will be bundled for burning and wheat gathered for keeping. It appears then that division and conflict between good and evil will be inevitable at the present age. Even within those who profess the name of Christ, Christ sternly warned that not everyone who acknowledges his name would enter the Kingdom of God, save those who do the will of God.
In the end, while every nation, every people, and every language will be fully represented in the Kingdom of God, the ultimate United Nation, not every individual will be united there. Those who heed to the call of unity with God will also live in heavenly unity with each other. Those who reject the call of unity with God will live in another kind of reality apart from God.
Thus, even God does not eventually unite everyone in one camp. A choice of life and death is given. Then what does it mean to unite Black and White, and, may I add, Hispanics and Asians? It seems to me that racial unity is loosely maintained on the ground of mutual respect for their not easily reconcilable differences. Unity that is totally blind to diversity (be it color and creed and whatever else) is not realistically attainable. Unity despite diversity is seductively inviting. A possible Presidency is being built on that promised hope.
In a racially segregated society, separation from fellow citizens is socially painful. In a depressed economy, separation from job and wealth is financially painful. In the practice of faith, dying to the old self that is at war with the new self is spiritually painful. In the twilight hour of one's life, imminent separation from loved ones and breath of life is emotionally painful. In the age to come, separation from God the life giver is eternally painful.
Life is full of painful experiences and choices. The way of suffering (Via Dolorosa) on Good Friday also leads the way to glory on the Easter Morning. Those of us who are still breathing live before the sunset of Friday. Those who have died rest in the quietness of Saturday. All will wake up on a future Easter Morning, some to eternal life, others to eternal death.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Measuring Richness: Forbes's vs. Jesus's Way
One way of measuring one's richness is by tallying up the accumulated personal wealth, the sort of thing Forbes magazine does once every year. Forbes has just published the roster of the richest 1,125 earthlings who amassed at least one billion US dollars worth of personal fortune in 2007.
China, not counting Hong Kong's 26, contributed 42 to the list, including 28 newcomers. The richest Chinese is Yang Huiyan at the tender age of 26. She has inherited her father's real estate empire valued at $7.4 billion. The runner ups are Lu Zhiqiang ($3.9B) and Huang Wei and family ($3.4B), all real estate tycoons. A few others became rich in the businesses of solar energies and internet. Reported in the Special Edition of Forbes magazine this week is a fellow named Shi Zhengrong who founded Suntech, the world's fourth largest solar panel maker. He is also becoming a champion for environmental protection.
A second way of measuring one's wealth is Jesus's way (Luke 21:1-4), based on how much one gives away. The poor widow was lauded by Jesus as the most charitable giver in the Temple court, since she gave all she had. Embededed in the Forbes magazine's article about Mr. Shi is a box comparing national charity. U.S. tops the list by giving 1.85% of its GDP, followed by a distant second, UK (0.84%) and third, France (0.32%), and others, Brazil (0.29%), South Korea (0.18%), Germany (0.13%), India (0.09%), and China (0.05%). Apparently China has a long way to go before catching on with the spirit of charity. Mr. Shi so far donated $2 million in China (including $82,000 for erecting a statue of Buddha at his hometown's temple) and $5 million to Al Gore's climate change organization. Ms. Yang Huiyan did better with $32 million donations last year. China had 1,369 charities at the end of 2007, a third of which were run privately.
The two types of richness occasionally go hand in hand. Most fortunately, the world's wealthiest men, Warren Buffett ($62B), and the once wealthiest for the last 13 years, Bill Gates ($58B), are also the most charitable givers. In fact, virtually all of Warren Buffett's and Bill's fortunates will end up in the Bill and Belinda Gates Foundation. I salute them for their generosity.
It is worth noting that four of the 53 richest Indians made to the top 4, 5, 6, and 8 spots. The top fifth guy is building a 27-story home. Hmm, I wonder if he will change bedroom every other week. The youngest billionaire is a 23-year old Harvard dropout (sounds familiar?), Mark Zuckerberg, founder of Facebook, an online social utility that connects you with people around you. Boy, if only I knew better, I might as well stand a chance to be ranked among the richest.
But hey, I am already among the richest, being a co-heir with the King of kings and Lord of lords. I guess this kind of richness belongs to neither of the above categories. It is definitely not accumulated by my personal effort, nor is it inherited due to blood or familial relation, but fully endowed by the grace of God. Best of all, this last type of richness is forever enduring, wholely unlike the earthly fortune.
Have you got it? Why not come to Jesus and share his richness beyond measure? Feel like a zillionaire now!
China, not counting Hong Kong's 26, contributed 42 to the list, including 28 newcomers. The richest Chinese is Yang Huiyan at the tender age of 26. She has inherited her father's real estate empire valued at $7.4 billion. The runner ups are Lu Zhiqiang ($3.9B) and Huang Wei and family ($3.4B), all real estate tycoons. A few others became rich in the businesses of solar energies and internet. Reported in the Special Edition of Forbes magazine this week is a fellow named Shi Zhengrong who founded Suntech, the world's fourth largest solar panel maker. He is also becoming a champion for environmental protection.
A second way of measuring one's wealth is Jesus's way (Luke 21:1-4), based on how much one gives away. The poor widow was lauded by Jesus as the most charitable giver in the Temple court, since she gave all she had. Embededed in the Forbes magazine's article about Mr. Shi is a box comparing national charity. U.S. tops the list by giving 1.85% of its GDP, followed by a distant second, UK (0.84%) and third, France (0.32%), and others, Brazil (0.29%), South Korea (0.18%), Germany (0.13%), India (0.09%), and China (0.05%). Apparently China has a long way to go before catching on with the spirit of charity. Mr. Shi so far donated $2 million in China (including $82,000 for erecting a statue of Buddha at his hometown's temple) and $5 million to Al Gore's climate change organization. Ms. Yang Huiyan did better with $32 million donations last year. China had 1,369 charities at the end of 2007, a third of which were run privately.
The two types of richness occasionally go hand in hand. Most fortunately, the world's wealthiest men, Warren Buffett ($62B), and the once wealthiest for the last 13 years, Bill Gates ($58B), are also the most charitable givers. In fact, virtually all of Warren Buffett's and Bill's fortunates will end up in the Bill and Belinda Gates Foundation. I salute them for their generosity.
It is worth noting that four of the 53 richest Indians made to the top 4, 5, 6, and 8 spots. The top fifth guy is building a 27-story home. Hmm, I wonder if he will change bedroom every other week. The youngest billionaire is a 23-year old Harvard dropout (sounds familiar?), Mark Zuckerberg, founder of Facebook, an online social utility that connects you with people around you. Boy, if only I knew better, I might as well stand a chance to be ranked among the richest.
But hey, I am already among the richest, being a co-heir with the King of kings and Lord of lords. I guess this kind of richness belongs to neither of the above categories. It is definitely not accumulated by my personal effort, nor is it inherited due to blood or familial relation, but fully endowed by the grace of God. Best of all, this last type of richness is forever enduring, wholely unlike the earthly fortune.
Have you got it? Why not come to Jesus and share his richness beyond measure? Feel like a zillionaire now!
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Going Green
Going red is for the health of our heart. Going green is for the health of our heart's love, the environment that we are to take good care of.
My elder daughter Sarah is one such green activist at home. Not only does she preach what she believes, she acts as well. While taking a walk in the neighborhood with our dog this afternoon, my wife told me that Sarah would pick up a trashed can on the road side, take it home and place it in the recycle bin. Recently, Sarah recycled worn out shoes at a local Nike store.
Early this afternoon, Sarah went one step further with her green campaign from verbal reminding to written cautioning. One note sticking above a light switch in our kitchen lists six green rules that we are to observe.
1. Use a reusable sponge or rag to clean up spills rather than paper towels.
2. When printing a document, use both sides of the paper and change the margin settings to an inch or lower (go to page setup).
3. Recycling one aluminum can saves enough energy to power a TV for three hours.
4. Save energy (and lower the electric bill) by turning off the lights and television when you leave the room.
5. Unplug all plugs when you're not using them. It draws energy just by being plugged into the power outlet.
6. Recycle all old sneakers @ letmeplay.com/reuseashoe to find out how to donate them to create sports courts.
On the door to our garage, we are reminded to "bring a canvas tote to the mall or grocery store; most plastic bags aren't biodegradable".
Sitting in the bathroom downstairs, I read six more points of green rules:
1. An estimated 100 billion plastic bags end up in landfills every year. Bring your own tote to stores!
2. Switch to low-energy fluorescent light bulbs. They last up to 10 times as long as regular light bulbs.
3. Clean the lint filter in the dryer regularly. A dirty filter uses up to 30% more energy to dry clothes.
4. Buy clothes made from organic cotton, which doesn't harm wildlife or the environment.
5. Instead of using the dryer, try using a drying rack. You'll save electricity and the jeans won't shrink.
6. Shorten your showers by two minutes and you'll conserve about 10 gallons of water.
I made a mental note of not using the paper tissues too liberally. Unbeknown to me then, my childhood days were as green as one could get when I used solid dirt balls to wipe after visiting toilet (a dirt hole dug beneath the ground with two parallel planks lying across the hole for crouching down).
On the door of the second floor towel closet, a note reads: Use one towel and one wash cloth per week!
Being somewhat of a sloth, I certainly have far exceeded that requirement.
A note above the light switch on the stairway asks: Turn off lights when you leave!!
Next to the night light switch, a note says with triple urgency: UNPLUG plugs when you're not using them!!!
Let's all go green and do our share to preserve our God-given environment. Let green reign.
My elder daughter Sarah is one such green activist at home. Not only does she preach what she believes, she acts as well. While taking a walk in the neighborhood with our dog this afternoon, my wife told me that Sarah would pick up a trashed can on the road side, take it home and place it in the recycle bin. Recently, Sarah recycled worn out shoes at a local Nike store.
Early this afternoon, Sarah went one step further with her green campaign from verbal reminding to written cautioning. One note sticking above a light switch in our kitchen lists six green rules that we are to observe.
1. Use a reusable sponge or rag to clean up spills rather than paper towels.
2. When printing a document, use both sides of the paper and change the margin settings to an inch or lower (go to page setup).
3. Recycling one aluminum can saves enough energy to power a TV for three hours.
4. Save energy (and lower the electric bill) by turning off the lights and television when you leave the room.
5. Unplug all plugs when you're not using them. It draws energy just by being plugged into the power outlet.
6. Recycle all old sneakers @ letmeplay.com/reuseashoe to find out how to donate them to create sports courts.
On the door to our garage, we are reminded to "bring a canvas tote to the mall or grocery store; most plastic bags aren't biodegradable".
Sitting in the bathroom downstairs, I read six more points of green rules:
1. An estimated 100 billion plastic bags end up in landfills every year. Bring your own tote to stores!
2. Switch to low-energy fluorescent light bulbs. They last up to 10 times as long as regular light bulbs.
3. Clean the lint filter in the dryer regularly. A dirty filter uses up to 30% more energy to dry clothes.
4. Buy clothes made from organic cotton, which doesn't harm wildlife or the environment.
5. Instead of using the dryer, try using a drying rack. You'll save electricity and the jeans won't shrink.
6. Shorten your showers by two minutes and you'll conserve about 10 gallons of water.
I made a mental note of not using the paper tissues too liberally. Unbeknown to me then, my childhood days were as green as one could get when I used solid dirt balls to wipe after visiting toilet (a dirt hole dug beneath the ground with two parallel planks lying across the hole for crouching down).
On the door of the second floor towel closet, a note reads: Use one towel and one wash cloth per week!
Being somewhat of a sloth, I certainly have far exceeded that requirement.
A note above the light switch on the stairway asks: Turn off lights when you leave!!
Next to the night light switch, a note says with triple urgency: UNPLUG plugs when you're not using them!!!
Let's all go green and do our share to preserve our God-given environment. Let green reign.
Friday, February 22, 2008
In Remembrance of Dr. Ray Wu
I am a beneficiary of Dr. Ray Wu's visionary CUSBEA (China United States Biochemistry Examination and Application) program that allowed some 400 Chinese students to come to USA for Ph.D studies in the 1980's. Today, almost all of us are actively engaging in biomedical research in USA, China and elsewhere. Many have attained the once coveted professorship in premiere institutions of higher learning. Some occupy leadership positions of increasing influence in the biopharmaceutical industry. Quite a few have laid hold of prized acclaim to fame in their conquest of biosciences' cutting edge frontiers.
Dr. Ray Wu left us just before Valentine's Day. In a sense, he was valentine and benefactor to all CUSBEA fellows. Shortly after China opened her door to the West, Dr. Ray Wu, an accomplished geneticist and Cornell University professor whose pioneering innovation in DNA sequencing inspired Sanger to achieve Nobel prize winning breakthrough, petitioned Chinese authority to send some of the top young minds to USA for advanced study. CUSBEA program was thus born, as were the physics CUSPEA and chemistry CGP programs championed by others in the same decade.
The CUSBEA program abruptly ceased when the 1989 student-led pro-democracy movement was crushed in Beijing. CUSBEA fellows found themselves emotionally torn and physically stranded, reluctant to return to their bruised motherland. A few years later when the memory of pain subsided, CUBSEA fellows began journeying back for family visitation, academic exchanges, and even permanent resettlement in China. Time apparently is the tried and true healer of all pains.
Our hearts now pain again, but for a different kind. We grieve with the family and friends of Dr. Ray Wu. If one's legacy can be measured by what becomes of his influence, then all CUSBEA fellows stand to testify to the great vision and insight of Dr. Ray Wu. Those of us who are fortunate to be very close to him have been telling us how meek and humble a gentleman Dr. Ray Wu was. Indeed that was the first impression I got when I saw him for the first and last time during a reunion last year in Beijing.
Dr. Ray Wu did not really leave us. His kindred spirit indwells among us and impels us to take altruistic interest in others' well being. He reminds me of Christ whom I preach so often. My prayer is this: We long to meet him again, but for the first time by the pearly gate of heaven when we will have finished our race on Earth. May his soul find the blessed eternal peace.
Dr. Ray Wu left us just before Valentine's Day. In a sense, he was valentine and benefactor to all CUSBEA fellows. Shortly after China opened her door to the West, Dr. Ray Wu, an accomplished geneticist and Cornell University professor whose pioneering innovation in DNA sequencing inspired Sanger to achieve Nobel prize winning breakthrough, petitioned Chinese authority to send some of the top young minds to USA for advanced study. CUSBEA program was thus born, as were the physics CUSPEA and chemistry CGP programs championed by others in the same decade.
The CUSBEA program abruptly ceased when the 1989 student-led pro-democracy movement was crushed in Beijing. CUSBEA fellows found themselves emotionally torn and physically stranded, reluctant to return to their bruised motherland. A few years later when the memory of pain subsided, CUBSEA fellows began journeying back for family visitation, academic exchanges, and even permanent resettlement in China. Time apparently is the tried and true healer of all pains.
Our hearts now pain again, but for a different kind. We grieve with the family and friends of Dr. Ray Wu. If one's legacy can be measured by what becomes of his influence, then all CUSBEA fellows stand to testify to the great vision and insight of Dr. Ray Wu. Those of us who are fortunate to be very close to him have been telling us how meek and humble a gentleman Dr. Ray Wu was. Indeed that was the first impression I got when I saw him for the first and last time during a reunion last year in Beijing.
Dr. Ray Wu did not really leave us. His kindred spirit indwells among us and impels us to take altruistic interest in others' well being. He reminds me of Christ whom I preach so often. My prayer is this: We long to meet him again, but for the first time by the pearly gate of heaven when we will have finished our race on Earth. May his soul find the blessed eternal peace.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
More Tragedy Strikes the Community
Today I learned of another depression-driven suicide in our community.
A chemist went to his workplace and ended his life there, leaving behind his parents, brother, wife and two young children. He had been depressed for at least half a year, under stress from work and family.
I was told that he came to my church a second time last weekend. He made the pivotal decision to accept Christ at the end of a gospel class. I could not imagine what went through his mind before he decided to leave this world of pain and tribulation. I hope he prayed and called onto the name of the Almighty God before his self-timed departure.
Many adults have experienced depression in this pressure-cooking society. Some even attempted suicide. What drives depressed people to the point of no return? The present world apparently has lost all its appeals to those on the verge of suicide. How best to prevent it become a vital pastoral and counseling issue.
If you ever feel depressed, please talk it out to your trusted friends or a church pastor. Their help can lift you up from the valley of despair and depression to the mountaintop of hope and joy.
A chemist went to his workplace and ended his life there, leaving behind his parents, brother, wife and two young children. He had been depressed for at least half a year, under stress from work and family.
I was told that he came to my church a second time last weekend. He made the pivotal decision to accept Christ at the end of a gospel class. I could not imagine what went through his mind before he decided to leave this world of pain and tribulation. I hope he prayed and called onto the name of the Almighty God before his self-timed departure.
Many adults have experienced depression in this pressure-cooking society. Some even attempted suicide. What drives depressed people to the point of no return? The present world apparently has lost all its appeals to those on the verge of suicide. How best to prevent it become a vital pastoral and counseling issue.
If you ever feel depressed, please talk it out to your trusted friends or a church pastor. Their help can lift you up from the valley of despair and depression to the mountaintop of hope and joy.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
A Life Cut Short
I attended a funeral today after last night's Chinese New Year celebration during church fellowship. It was an emotional farewell.
Paul was a hardworking and easygoing family man. His life was cut short under the unbearable weight of depression following type II diabetes diagnosis about four years ago. His sudden departure early in the week made many mourners grapple deeper with the meaning of life. His children, wife, siblings, and friends, while choking back tears, remembered a kindhearted man who loved photography and made his customers as photogenic as technically possible. Pastor Chan, having battled his own type II diabetes for a decade, readily identified with Paul in the uphill daily struggle. Paul's wife thanked everyone and asked for understanding if she calls for help as she copes with Paul's untimely death. She implored us to openly share our inner feelings with loved ones whenever feeling pressured in life.
I learned more about Paul's life during his funeral than before. I'd rather see him snapping the camera and living to a much older age than 56. Nonetheless, I admire his courage to take the painful exit off life's busy highway. Now he is resting in eternal peace that we all long for after our earthly toil.
Before leaving, I consoled the family with words such as "The Lord is our hope" and "Be strong". I confided with the grieving 18-year old young man that my father died when I was 15. That was almost 30 years ago.
Life goes on. Life must continue. Say cheez and smile, brother Paul.
Paul was a hardworking and easygoing family man. His life was cut short under the unbearable weight of depression following type II diabetes diagnosis about four years ago. His sudden departure early in the week made many mourners grapple deeper with the meaning of life. His children, wife, siblings, and friends, while choking back tears, remembered a kindhearted man who loved photography and made his customers as photogenic as technically possible. Pastor Chan, having battled his own type II diabetes for a decade, readily identified with Paul in the uphill daily struggle. Paul's wife thanked everyone and asked for understanding if she calls for help as she copes with Paul's untimely death. She implored us to openly share our inner feelings with loved ones whenever feeling pressured in life.
I learned more about Paul's life during his funeral than before. I'd rather see him snapping the camera and living to a much older age than 56. Nonetheless, I admire his courage to take the painful exit off life's busy highway. Now he is resting in eternal peace that we all long for after our earthly toil.
Before leaving, I consoled the family with words such as "The Lord is our hope" and "Be strong". I confided with the grieving 18-year old young man that my father died when I was 15. That was almost 30 years ago.
Life goes on. Life must continue. Say cheez and smile, brother Paul.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
A Super Weekend
This weekend is absolutely super, for more than one reason.
First of all, it is the XLII superbowl weekend. The match between the undefeated favorite Patriots and the underdog Giants was nothing short of being breathtaking, all the way to the last second. The two teams each had a fruitful first scoring drive during the first quarter and the beginning of the second quarter. But the score was unchanged at 3:7 to Patriots' advantage for two quarters, giving the same colleague in our betting pool a rare double win for guessing correctly both the half time and third quarter score. The defense on both sides was truly remarkable. The fourth quarter saw the seesaw action between two teams, changing the lead three times in the last quarter, a superbowl record. To me, the single most impressive play in the winning drive was Giants' overhead reception for third down conversion under the sandwiching tackles from Patriots. TV commentators billed this superbowl as the best of all time, topping the previous best between Bills vs. Giants (19:20) in early 1991's superbowl XXV.
I could not help but noticing the coincidence between the two best superbowl games. I began to love watching football soon after I relocated to New Jersey from Buffalo. I was disappointed by Bills' narrow loss to Giants in the last four seconds of the XXV game, despite the fact that both were my home teams. Bills later entered into superbowl three more times in the 1990's but came back empty handed. Seventeen years later, two weeks after I relocated back to New Jersey from Cambridge, I witnessed another great superbowl match, again between two home teams. Sadly, Patriots lost their only and most important game of the season, again narrowly.
The second cause for a super weekend came from my children. My younger daughter came home Friday with a report card for the second marking period, maintaining all As (95-100). My elder daughter won second place in the county high schools' mile-long race for girls on Saturday. My son successfully defended his clarinet first chair title in the 6-county regional intermediate band tryout, besting some 70 clarinetists and outscoring his closest rival by ~8%. Needless to say, my wife and I take great pride in the academic, athletic, and musical accomplishments by our children. Heartfelt thanks go to their teachers and coaches.
Presidential contenders will find another reason for this super weekend. Their prospect of residing in the White House hangs in the balance of the fast coming Super Tuesday's primaries and caucuses in 24 states across the nation.
First of all, it is the XLII superbowl weekend. The match between the undefeated favorite Patriots and the underdog Giants was nothing short of being breathtaking, all the way to the last second. The two teams each had a fruitful first scoring drive during the first quarter and the beginning of the second quarter. But the score was unchanged at 3:7 to Patriots' advantage for two quarters, giving the same colleague in our betting pool a rare double win for guessing correctly both the half time and third quarter score. The defense on both sides was truly remarkable. The fourth quarter saw the seesaw action between two teams, changing the lead three times in the last quarter, a superbowl record. To me, the single most impressive play in the winning drive was Giants' overhead reception for third down conversion under the sandwiching tackles from Patriots. TV commentators billed this superbowl as the best of all time, topping the previous best between Bills vs. Giants (19:20) in early 1991's superbowl XXV.
I could not help but noticing the coincidence between the two best superbowl games. I began to love watching football soon after I relocated to New Jersey from Buffalo. I was disappointed by Bills' narrow loss to Giants in the last four seconds of the XXV game, despite the fact that both were my home teams. Bills later entered into superbowl three more times in the 1990's but came back empty handed. Seventeen years later, two weeks after I relocated back to New Jersey from Cambridge, I witnessed another great superbowl match, again between two home teams. Sadly, Patriots lost their only and most important game of the season, again narrowly.
The second cause for a super weekend came from my children. My younger daughter came home Friday with a report card for the second marking period, maintaining all As (95-100). My elder daughter won second place in the county high schools' mile-long race for girls on Saturday. My son successfully defended his clarinet first chair title in the 6-county regional intermediate band tryout, besting some 70 clarinetists and outscoring his closest rival by ~8%. Needless to say, my wife and I take great pride in the academic, athletic, and musical accomplishments by our children. Heartfelt thanks go to their teachers and coaches.
Presidential contenders will find another reason for this super weekend. Their prospect of residing in the White House hangs in the balance of the fast coming Super Tuesday's primaries and caucuses in 24 states across the nation.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Relive My Life for the First Time
Since my relocation back to NJ, I have experienced reverse shock in re-adaptation. My stomach felt the pain first.
No longer do I need to walk to an outside restaurant for lunch. Company's cafeteria provides the perfect cozy place in the winter season. "Cheeseless and steakless chease steak" once again becomes my favorite lunch order. At about four o'clock in the afternoon, my stomach reminds me that Mulan's group lunch on the order of dinner portion did a better job in pacifying my hunger. The lighter lunch makes me wanting to have an early dinner.
The other day, I put myself on the scale at home. The reading pointed to ~155 lbs. This meant that I had no weight gain after three and a half months of frequent dining out in Cambridge. It made my happy.
I have resumed the routine of sending my kids to school every weekday morning. At a particular turn of the road, we start praying for the marvelous Monday, terrific Tuesday, wonderful Wednesday, thrilling Thursday, and fabulous Friday. I really enjoy the opportunities chauffeuring my children to school and extracurricular activities. I begin to appreciate my wife's busy housekeeping in my absence.
I look forward to my son's regional band audition this weekend. With daily practice and his teacher's approving encouragement, he is all pumped up to defend his rank as first chair clarinetist. I advise him to focus on doing his best and not to worry about the outcome. Time will tell.
No longer do I need to walk to an outside restaurant for lunch. Company's cafeteria provides the perfect cozy place in the winter season. "Cheeseless and steakless chease steak" once again becomes my favorite lunch order. At about four o'clock in the afternoon, my stomach reminds me that Mulan's group lunch on the order of dinner portion did a better job in pacifying my hunger. The lighter lunch makes me wanting to have an early dinner.
The other day, I put myself on the scale at home. The reading pointed to ~155 lbs. This meant that I had no weight gain after three and a half months of frequent dining out in Cambridge. It made my happy.
I have resumed the routine of sending my kids to school every weekday morning. At a particular turn of the road, we start praying for the marvelous Monday, terrific Tuesday, wonderful Wednesday, thrilling Thursday, and fabulous Friday. I really enjoy the opportunities chauffeuring my children to school and extracurricular activities. I begin to appreciate my wife's busy housekeeping in my absence.
I look forward to my son's regional band audition this weekend. With daily practice and his teacher's approving encouragement, he is all pumped up to defend his rank as first chair clarinetist. I advise him to focus on doing his best and not to worry about the outcome. Time will tell.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Cholesterol in the News
Cholesterol is making news. Big news.
It all precipitated from Merck and Schering-Plough's belatedly reported and somewhat disappointing outcome of an ENHANCE trial. While Zetia and Zocor in the Vytorin combo drug lowered bad cholesterol (LDL) more than Zocor alone (consistent with prior studies), no statistically significant difference was observed in modifying the plaque thickness of the carotid (neck) arteries among 720 patients with Heterozygous Familial Hypercholesterolemia, a rare genetic predisposition for about 0.2% of the population. In short, no enhancement in reducing plaque formation is seen with the ENHANCE trial.
The Wall Street took this no good news as bad news and punished both MRK and SGP stocks harshly, which lost over 20% market values in less than two weeks.
This news could not have come at a worse time when leading presidential contenders (Democrats and McCain) and major news media are training their smoking guns on the drug industry. Opposite to Merck and Schering-Plough's full page ad in today's Wall Street Journal is a critical article entitled "Pharmaceutical Industry Faces Increased Scrutiny". Quoted therein was an inflammatory remark from JAMA's editor in chief, who will publish articles "to show how they (pharma companies) manipulate the data and why we have to be cynical about them". BusinessWeek's cover story this week on Lipitor and other statins cautions, "For many people, cholesterol drugs may not do any good". Apparently, we who are in the drug industry are in a protracted uphill battle to win back our reputation of science-driven medical research.
Granted the drug industry is both science and profit-driven and has lots of soul searching and self-critique to do, the anti-pharma irrational exuberance may have under-appreciated the complexity of biomedical research which entails substantial capital investment, long cycle of drug development, and high failure rate.
Drug industry is keenly interested in finding the most valuable and profitable medicine for every major disease. To the extent of constantly evolving scientific understanding about, say, cardiovascular diseases, the drug industry tries its best, not always successfully, to correlate a particular (or a set of) biomarker effect to a clinical outcome. True, cholesterol is only one player in cardiovascular diseases. True, managing cholesterol level (bad vs. good type in LDL vs. HDL, respectively) may not have all the immediate benefits to most people. True, cholesterol drugs, like any other drug, have undesirable side effects. Still, we must live out lives according to the immediate light shone on our path. The prevailing wisdom according to the American College of Cardiology, the American Heart Association, and the National Lipid Association suggests in unison that lowering one's elevated bad cholesterol level is sound practice for one's health.
It looks like that the bad guy (cholesterol) is having a heck of a good time in this global economic downturn. Until it is tamed, the drug industry may not hitchhike with a recovering economy in the future.
It all precipitated from Merck and Schering-Plough's belatedly reported and somewhat disappointing outcome of an ENHANCE trial. While Zetia and Zocor in the Vytorin combo drug lowered bad cholesterol (LDL) more than Zocor alone (consistent with prior studies), no statistically significant difference was observed in modifying the plaque thickness of the carotid (neck) arteries among 720 patients with Heterozygous Familial Hypercholesterolemia, a rare genetic predisposition for about 0.2% of the population. In short, no enhancement in reducing plaque formation is seen with the ENHANCE trial.
The Wall Street took this no good news as bad news and punished both MRK and SGP stocks harshly, which lost over 20% market values in less than two weeks.
This news could not have come at a worse time when leading presidential contenders (Democrats and McCain) and major news media are training their smoking guns on the drug industry. Opposite to Merck and Schering-Plough's full page ad in today's Wall Street Journal is a critical article entitled "Pharmaceutical Industry Faces Increased Scrutiny". Quoted therein was an inflammatory remark from JAMA's editor in chief, who will publish articles "to show how they (pharma companies) manipulate the data and why we have to be cynical about them". BusinessWeek's cover story this week on Lipitor and other statins cautions, "For many people, cholesterol drugs may not do any good". Apparently, we who are in the drug industry are in a protracted uphill battle to win back our reputation of science-driven medical research.
Granted the drug industry is both science and profit-driven and has lots of soul searching and self-critique to do, the anti-pharma irrational exuberance may have under-appreciated the complexity of biomedical research which entails substantial capital investment, long cycle of drug development, and high failure rate.
Drug industry is keenly interested in finding the most valuable and profitable medicine for every major disease. To the extent of constantly evolving scientific understanding about, say, cardiovascular diseases, the drug industry tries its best, not always successfully, to correlate a particular (or a set of) biomarker effect to a clinical outcome. True, cholesterol is only one player in cardiovascular diseases. True, managing cholesterol level (bad vs. good type in LDL vs. HDL, respectively) may not have all the immediate benefits to most people. True, cholesterol drugs, like any other drug, have undesirable side effects. Still, we must live out lives according to the immediate light shone on our path. The prevailing wisdom according to the American College of Cardiology, the American Heart Association, and the National Lipid Association suggests in unison that lowering one's elevated bad cholesterol level is sound practice for one's health.
It looks like that the bad guy (cholesterol) is having a heck of a good time in this global economic downturn. Until it is tamed, the drug industry may not hitchhike with a recovering economy in the future.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Coming Home, My Sweet Home
I came back yesterday evening, capping three and a half months of long distance commuting between Garden State and Cambridge, MA.
The final Greyhound bus ride was rather smooth. I spent the five hours chatting with colleague S and a Harvard freshman, reading Wall Street Journal, and mostly napping.
I feel relieved of having successfully completed my tenure at my company's Cambridge site. S was on the phone with realtors, trying to straighten an error of market pricing in preparation for selling his house.
The Harvard freshman is a Mathematics and Economics major. Here is an excerpt of our dialogue:
"How much are you paying your tuition?" I was curious, as a father who will send the elder daughter to college soon.
"45 thousand a year. But I am on a student loan." She clarified. She has a young brother. Her mom teaches Chinese in local schools. Her dad is doing business in China.
"What is the biggest challenge for you as a freshman in college?"
"Time management." she answered without hesitation, "We are allowed to take no more than four courses a semester, that is only 12 hours of class a week, far less than in high school. But we do have a lot more homework to do."
"So what do you do besides taking class and doing homework?" I dug deeper.
"I volunteer at least ten hours a week for the student run newspaper." She said with a measure of pride.
"Did you join similar club in high school?"
"No. I just want to try something new."
"How did you decide on Mathematics and Economics as your major?"
"I was good at Math in high school. And economics is something that interests me. But I will have to work 100 hours a week in first future job, which translates into about $15 a hour, pretty dismal." She intoned. Apparently she knows the market well.
"How challenging is it for you to study at Harvard?"
"Pretty competitive, lots of smart peoples there. But not as competitive as in UPenn's Wharton where my friend is attending."
"How so?"
"Well, they only give a certain number of As to students. So students compete with each other. At Harvard, you very much compete with yourself."
"Strange policy at Wharton. If all students get 100, they all deserve A." My voice was raised a bit.
......
The most interesting article in yesterday's Wall Street Journal was about Google.org, which is the non-profit arm of the for profit Google. Four years ago when Google had its IPO, it pledged to donate 1% of its equity and 1% of its annual profit as fund for non-profit purposes. In keeping with that pledge, Google.org now has about 2 billion dollars, which is no shallow pocket for bidders from the poor third world countries. This dual model of for profit and non-profit is charting into a worthy new territory. I salute Google for this visionary corporate charity.
What if most households donate at least 1% to charity? Or, if they prefer, simply spend an extra 1% of their income. Bush may not even need a stimulus plan for the recession-bound economy. I wonder if the presidential candidates dare to ask people to sacrifice a bit more to sustain a weakening economy.
The final Greyhound bus ride was rather smooth. I spent the five hours chatting with colleague S and a Harvard freshman, reading Wall Street Journal, and mostly napping.
I feel relieved of having successfully completed my tenure at my company's Cambridge site. S was on the phone with realtors, trying to straighten an error of market pricing in preparation for selling his house.
The Harvard freshman is a Mathematics and Economics major. Here is an excerpt of our dialogue:
"How much are you paying your tuition?" I was curious, as a father who will send the elder daughter to college soon.
"45 thousand a year. But I am on a student loan." She clarified. She has a young brother. Her mom teaches Chinese in local schools. Her dad is doing business in China.
"What is the biggest challenge for you as a freshman in college?"
"Time management." she answered without hesitation, "We are allowed to take no more than four courses a semester, that is only 12 hours of class a week, far less than in high school. But we do have a lot more homework to do."
"So what do you do besides taking class and doing homework?" I dug deeper.
"I volunteer at least ten hours a week for the student run newspaper." She said with a measure of pride.
"Did you join similar club in high school?"
"No. I just want to try something new."
"How did you decide on Mathematics and Economics as your major?"
"I was good at Math in high school. And economics is something that interests me. But I will have to work 100 hours a week in first future job, which translates into about $15 a hour, pretty dismal." She intoned. Apparently she knows the market well.
"How challenging is it for you to study at Harvard?"
"Pretty competitive, lots of smart peoples there. But not as competitive as in UPenn's Wharton where my friend is attending."
"How so?"
"Well, they only give a certain number of As to students. So students compete with each other. At Harvard, you very much compete with yourself."
"Strange policy at Wharton. If all students get 100, they all deserve A." My voice was raised a bit.
......
The most interesting article in yesterday's Wall Street Journal was about Google.org, which is the non-profit arm of the for profit Google. Four years ago when Google had its IPO, it pledged to donate 1% of its equity and 1% of its annual profit as fund for non-profit purposes. In keeping with that pledge, Google.org now has about 2 billion dollars, which is no shallow pocket for bidders from the poor third world countries. This dual model of for profit and non-profit is charting into a worthy new territory. I salute Google for this visionary corporate charity.
What if most households donate at least 1% to charity? Or, if they prefer, simply spend an extra 1% of their income. Bush may not even need a stimulus plan for the recession-bound economy. I wonder if the presidential candidates dare to ask people to sacrifice a bit more to sustain a weakening economy.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Hillary’s throat becomes mine
Packing my life in a bag,
All of a sudden I’m sad.
Tears were swelling in my eyes,
I knelt to pray at bedside.
Lord, bless all whom I have met,
Even Patriots of sure bet.
Leaving my keys in the room,
I walked out in morning gloom.
Many thanks for the drizzling rain,
Baptizing me once again.
Heading back home is my dream,
I leave behind a good team.
New challenges lie ahead,
I shall press on with no dread.
Lord, you be my shield and strength,
Lead me into greater length.
All of a sudden I’m sad.
Tears were swelling in my eyes,
I knelt to pray at bedside.
Lord, bless all whom I have met,
Even Patriots of sure bet.
Leaving my keys in the room,
I walked out in morning gloom.
Many thanks for the drizzling rain,
Baptizing me once again.
Heading back home is my dream,
I leave behind a good team.
New challenges lie ahead,
I shall press on with no dread.
Lord, you be my shield and strength,
Lead me into greater length.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
The Last Supper
Cambridge Brewing Company is the site for my last rite, as leaving is like dying. It is also the coming out party for the group of 18. Giant cylindrical tanks of beer are right next to our table. (I am using present tense to describe a past event, as if it replays before my eyes at the moment of writing.)
Three tall towers of beer, 3.5 liters each, stand on our long table, waiting to be consumed throughout the three and half hours long party. Half a cup is enough to sedate my mind, but not my heart, ears and mouth. Colleagues are similarly all excited, not so much about my leaving, but on company stock price going south as a result of flat outcome of a completed clinical trial for Vytorin, cholesterol-lowering combo drug. Some question the wisdom of the clinical design for targeting a very small population with so much at stake. Compared to nearly ten billion dollars market loss this week, the clinical trial’s cost is really small potato. Hopefully hindsight will help ameliorate future study designs.
Sitting next to me, an evangelical Christian, are colleagues from Catholic, Episcopalian, Buddhist, and Hindu background. Our talk goes intensely spiritual. Da Vinci’s Code provides the thread of our discussion about the core mission and true identity of Christ. We touch on the topic of masculinity of the Bible translations, and gender equality. AP tells me that he has put all of my journaling into one folder aptly entitled rumination.
Fisherman’s stew (shrimp, scallop, mussel) is my entrée, following crab cake appetizer. I find myself having good appetite, despite overworked stress. Apparently, leaving is unlike dying in this regard. Three rounds of toast for my leaving are like three cups of blessing in a Jewish Passover. We also toast for the engagement of two former colleagues in absentia. A few people have to leave earlier, half stay to the end. CCC and I have to excuse ourselves a few minutes early to catch up with some additional work.
I said goodbye to the janitor. I may never see him again in this life. I thanked God for a good run here and left my office past 10 pm. I walked in the largely serene neighborhood of Cambridge. This would be my last evening stroll in this emotionally attached place. I heard my own footsteps sounding from the patchily icy pedestrian walkway. I met C, S, and J tonight at the apartment. I emptied my purse to find a paltry six dollars before giving them and a few dollars worth of quarters to S, inadequately recompensing for her purchase of food before my faith discourse with D two nights ago. I thanked them for taking me in as their roommate and their kindness during my stay since October. I would welcome them to visit the greater NYC area. May the Lord bless them.
Now that I am about to pack my personal belongings before heading home Friday, I have mixed feelings that I am still sorting through….
Three tall towers of beer, 3.5 liters each, stand on our long table, waiting to be consumed throughout the three and half hours long party. Half a cup is enough to sedate my mind, but not my heart, ears and mouth. Colleagues are similarly all excited, not so much about my leaving, but on company stock price going south as a result of flat outcome of a completed clinical trial for Vytorin, cholesterol-lowering combo drug. Some question the wisdom of the clinical design for targeting a very small population with so much at stake. Compared to nearly ten billion dollars market loss this week, the clinical trial’s cost is really small potato. Hopefully hindsight will help ameliorate future study designs.
Sitting next to me, an evangelical Christian, are colleagues from Catholic, Episcopalian, Buddhist, and Hindu background. Our talk goes intensely spiritual. Da Vinci’s Code provides the thread of our discussion about the core mission and true identity of Christ. We touch on the topic of masculinity of the Bible translations, and gender equality. AP tells me that he has put all of my journaling into one folder aptly entitled rumination.
Fisherman’s stew (shrimp, scallop, mussel) is my entrée, following crab cake appetizer. I find myself having good appetite, despite overworked stress. Apparently, leaving is unlike dying in this regard. Three rounds of toast for my leaving are like three cups of blessing in a Jewish Passover. We also toast for the engagement of two former colleagues in absentia. A few people have to leave earlier, half stay to the end. CCC and I have to excuse ourselves a few minutes early to catch up with some additional work.
I said goodbye to the janitor. I may never see him again in this life. I thanked God for a good run here and left my office past 10 pm. I walked in the largely serene neighborhood of Cambridge. This would be my last evening stroll in this emotionally attached place. I heard my own footsteps sounding from the patchily icy pedestrian walkway. I met C, S, and J tonight at the apartment. I emptied my purse to find a paltry six dollars before giving them and a few dollars worth of quarters to S, inadequately recompensing for her purchase of food before my faith discourse with D two nights ago. I thanked them for taking me in as their roommate and their kindness during my stay since October. I would welcome them to visit the greater NYC area. May the Lord bless them.
Now that I am about to pack my personal belongings before heading home Friday, I have mixed feelings that I am still sorting through….
Mulan, Le’s, and Copenhagen
(January 16, 2008)
Today is a whirlwind day.
Amid busyness of work, 16 Chinese colleagues had a farewell lunch with me at Mulan. Many thanks for a heartwarming farewell. I will miss all of my lunch buddies. I look forward to our next get together during site visit.
Shane hosted me and our boss for dinner at the Le’s, a Vietnamese restaurant in Harvard Square. He kindly invited us to American Repertory Theater for Copenhagen show. Two men and a woman had a post-death trialogue, reflecting on the tumultuous earthly moments of their mind encounter in the mid 1920’s and then moral clash in the 1940’s. They were Niels and Margrethe Bohr, both Dane, and Werner Heisenberg, a German. As mentor and protégé, Bohr and Heisenberg were the two pillars of the Copenhagen School of Quantum Mechanics and proponents, respectively, of the Complementary Principle (particle-wave duality) and Uncertainty Principle (location and speed of a particle cannot be known with precision at the same time).
The two men developed a mutual friendship out of attraction of academic brilliance, starting from Heisenberg’s critical comment on a well received lecture given by Bohr in 1922. From 1924 to 1927, young Heisenberg studied under Bohr in Copenhagen. Collaboratively (during their long hours of regular strolling and fast-paced thinking while skiing), or rather independently according to Margrethe’s observation, they developed the fundamental principles of Copenhagen School of Quantum Mechanics. Heisenberg, at 26, returned to Germany to become a full professor and later a leader in Germany’s nuclear research.
Their friendship endured the gravest assault and mistrust on moral ground in the thick of the WWII. In a September 1941 visit to Copenhagen, Heisenberg unintentionally irated Bohr minutes into a stroll, by alluding to the morally questionable practicality of translating Uranium fission research into powerful nuclear weapon. The irony is, while Bohr on the side of the Alliance could be held partially accountable for the obliteration of thousands of civilian lives due to the eventual success of Manhattan Project, Heisenberg’s conscience and providence helped him to be unhelpful to his Nazi Germany eager to improve their weaponry. He was kind enough to win the release of a death row prisoner under his watch. This drama of conscience clash spelled out a counter-intuitive kind of uncertainty principle as played out in the theater of life.
The show was not short of lighter moments with everyday life illustrations to the Complementary Principle and Uncertainty Principle, despite quite a number of unavoidable scientific jargons. The clearly narrated trialogue painted lively scenarios subject only to the whims of the audience. The most emotionally charged segment to me was the vivid description of Heisenberg’s three-day fleeing in a war-torn Germany before his arrest for leading, fortunately unsuccessfully, German nuclear research program. Heisenberg’s patriotism had to be subordinated to his moral compass of doing greater good.
There was a period of philosophizing in relation to both Principles. It has everything to do with measurement, an unavoidable intercourse between the measuring subject (inquirer of truth) and measured object (the truth supposedly out there). Apparently, the formulation of observable quantities of objective truth is intimately intertwined with the subject (scientists and their toys of measurement), an integral part of the larger object (the cosmos). Such talk suspiciously smacks of the postmodern mantra of relative and subjective nature of knowable truth in place of the metanarrative (the grand, unifying, independent objective truth). That aside, the most provocative example of juxtaposition of subject with object is the biblical revelation about God Incarnate, God becoming a man. Therein transcendent divinity mystically puts on and unites with humanity. Or to cover more apologetic ground, I may also add that humanity which springs from divinity now finds the perfect harmony and demonstration in God-man. Theologians tell us that Christ’s humanity (perhaps including the glorified nail marks from Crucifixion), once clothed to the divinity, will last through eternity. Then one may infer that even God the unchangeable trinity in general, Son of God in particular, experiences a subtle but permanent metamorphosis in form owing to the humanity’s salvation melodrama. In a grand way, divinity, while arguably unchanging in its essence, intertwines with humanity. Truth is thus not just out there. Truth is in Him and us, unless we do not live in Truth. In fact, Truth is He, the all-encompassing Lord of all.
There is another deep moment of reflection. While we push God away from the center of knowledge, become the measure and measurer of all things, and perceive the physical world with limit set only by the Uncertainty Principle, we often lose sight of our very self and succumb to self and mutual destruction repeatedly seen in history. The misunderstanding and second guessing in the show served to remind us our fallibility of knowing others and self.
Bohr and Heisenberg saw the ravages and displacement in war time. On our way out, we saw two men enveloped themselves in sleeping bags for a cold night in Harvard Square. Perhaps in a wacky way of the universe, they were Bohr and Heisenberg who were sent to visit us tonight.
Today is a whirlwind day.
Amid busyness of work, 16 Chinese colleagues had a farewell lunch with me at Mulan. Many thanks for a heartwarming farewell. I will miss all of my lunch buddies. I look forward to our next get together during site visit.
Shane hosted me and our boss for dinner at the Le’s, a Vietnamese restaurant in Harvard Square. He kindly invited us to American Repertory Theater for Copenhagen show. Two men and a woman had a post-death trialogue, reflecting on the tumultuous earthly moments of their mind encounter in the mid 1920’s and then moral clash in the 1940’s. They were Niels and Margrethe Bohr, both Dane, and Werner Heisenberg, a German. As mentor and protégé, Bohr and Heisenberg were the two pillars of the Copenhagen School of Quantum Mechanics and proponents, respectively, of the Complementary Principle (particle-wave duality) and Uncertainty Principle (location and speed of a particle cannot be known with precision at the same time).
The two men developed a mutual friendship out of attraction of academic brilliance, starting from Heisenberg’s critical comment on a well received lecture given by Bohr in 1922. From 1924 to 1927, young Heisenberg studied under Bohr in Copenhagen. Collaboratively (during their long hours of regular strolling and fast-paced thinking while skiing), or rather independently according to Margrethe’s observation, they developed the fundamental principles of Copenhagen School of Quantum Mechanics. Heisenberg, at 26, returned to Germany to become a full professor and later a leader in Germany’s nuclear research.
Their friendship endured the gravest assault and mistrust on moral ground in the thick of the WWII. In a September 1941 visit to Copenhagen, Heisenberg unintentionally irated Bohr minutes into a stroll, by alluding to the morally questionable practicality of translating Uranium fission research into powerful nuclear weapon. The irony is, while Bohr on the side of the Alliance could be held partially accountable for the obliteration of thousands of civilian lives due to the eventual success of Manhattan Project, Heisenberg’s conscience and providence helped him to be unhelpful to his Nazi Germany eager to improve their weaponry. He was kind enough to win the release of a death row prisoner under his watch. This drama of conscience clash spelled out a counter-intuitive kind of uncertainty principle as played out in the theater of life.
The show was not short of lighter moments with everyday life illustrations to the Complementary Principle and Uncertainty Principle, despite quite a number of unavoidable scientific jargons. The clearly narrated trialogue painted lively scenarios subject only to the whims of the audience. The most emotionally charged segment to me was the vivid description of Heisenberg’s three-day fleeing in a war-torn Germany before his arrest for leading, fortunately unsuccessfully, German nuclear research program. Heisenberg’s patriotism had to be subordinated to his moral compass of doing greater good.
There was a period of philosophizing in relation to both Principles. It has everything to do with measurement, an unavoidable intercourse between the measuring subject (inquirer of truth) and measured object (the truth supposedly out there). Apparently, the formulation of observable quantities of objective truth is intimately intertwined with the subject (scientists and their toys of measurement), an integral part of the larger object (the cosmos). Such talk suspiciously smacks of the postmodern mantra of relative and subjective nature of knowable truth in place of the metanarrative (the grand, unifying, independent objective truth). That aside, the most provocative example of juxtaposition of subject with object is the biblical revelation about God Incarnate, God becoming a man. Therein transcendent divinity mystically puts on and unites with humanity. Or to cover more apologetic ground, I may also add that humanity which springs from divinity now finds the perfect harmony and demonstration in God-man. Theologians tell us that Christ’s humanity (perhaps including the glorified nail marks from Crucifixion), once clothed to the divinity, will last through eternity. Then one may infer that even God the unchangeable trinity in general, Son of God in particular, experiences a subtle but permanent metamorphosis in form owing to the humanity’s salvation melodrama. In a grand way, divinity, while arguably unchanging in its essence, intertwines with humanity. Truth is thus not just out there. Truth is in Him and us, unless we do not live in Truth. In fact, Truth is He, the all-encompassing Lord of all.
There is another deep moment of reflection. While we push God away from the center of knowledge, become the measure and measurer of all things, and perceive the physical world with limit set only by the Uncertainty Principle, we often lose sight of our very self and succumb to self and mutual destruction repeatedly seen in history. The misunderstanding and second guessing in the show served to remind us our fallibility of knowing others and self.
Bohr and Heisenberg saw the ravages and displacement in war time. On our way out, we saw two men enveloped themselves in sleeping bags for a cold night in Harvard Square. Perhaps in a wacky way of the universe, they were Bohr and Heisenberg who were sent to visit us tonight.
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