If Trump and Pelosi met at a bar ...

Krista, Anna, Leo, and I ventured up north for Spring Break, stopping at some of the most historic cities in the country: Washington, DC, and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Since Anna and Leo are both high school juniors, we also toured some colleges along the way, but the main item on the agenda was to reconnect with our country’s past. 

And that we did.

If you haven’t been to DC or Philly lately, do yourself a favor and go. From a private tour of the Capital (thanks to Congressman Budd’s office) to the National Portrait Gallery (the new, life-size Obama portrait is amazing) ... from standing where MLK delivered his “I have a Dream” speech, to a silent walking tour of the Korean War memorial ... from a glimpse at one of the few Guttenberg bibles still in existence (Library of Congress), to an interruption of an NBC live news update at the Supreme Court building (yep, that was us). And that was Day 1!

Anyway, go if you can. You certainly won’t regret it.

I learned something new at the Betsy Ross house in Philadelphia. As you probably know, the Pennsylvania colony – and Philadelphia itself -- was founded by William Penn, a Quaker who was determined that the city be designed and ordered according to Quaker beliefs. Central to Quakers is the belief that all are created equal and possess within them a bit of God’s eternal light. Government, by extension, must be a work of the people, and decisions should respect the opinions, insights, and “truth” that all bring to the table. And the people, Penn thought, should reflect a rich variety of backgrounds, denominations, and races. He actively recruited non-Anglicans and made sure that Pennsylvania was the first colony to outlaw slavery.

In addition, City leaders gathered in circles so that no one voice was more dominant than another. The country’s first flag symbolized that ideal, with 13 stars arranged in a circular pattern, all states as equal partners. Likewise, representatives to the first Continental Congress (1774), chairs arranged in a circle at Carpenters’ Hall, weren’t yet interested in revolutionary phrases or incendiary actions; they simply wanted the English king to hear their collective voice and be recognized as equal participants in decision-making.

Here’s an idea: let’s force President Trump, Nancy Pelosi and leaders of Congress to take a walking tour of Philadelphia! And what if we add to that list talk show hosts from MSNBC and Fox News? Reconnecting with a little Quaker-inspired ideology just might make a difference in these oddly combative, ego-centered, overly-opinionated times we’re living in. Or we could always hope .....

Until then, circle up with some friends and enjoy some time together. Listen to each other’s opinions and be open to glimpses of light that emanates from within. Sounds like a good way to spend a Spring evening, doesn’t it?

Michael Jackson

I enjoyed growing up in the 1980s. 

I mean, this funky little decade gave rise to some of the best (and cheesiest) music, the most iconic movie themes and images (think “ET, come home”), styles that made you laugh (leg warmers? Parachute pants?), and moments in history that made you stand and shout (“Mr. Gorbachev, bring down that wall!”). 

I know everyone thinks “their” era was the best, but, well, the 80s was pretty darn cool. 

For me it started by playing PacMan endlessly at the local Put Put Golf Course. Some highlights were sneaking into my first R rated movie (Caddyshack), convincing my mom that midnight movies were safe, wholesome places (I’m not sure I mentioned anything about “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”), and watching Michael Jordan sink the game-winning shot to win a national championship. 

I remember thinking MASH was edgy, until MTV introduced me/us to a whole new world of temptation and overexposure (think “Like a Virgin” by Madonna). I remember driving to Charleston with my friend Allison singing “The Heart of Rock and Roll” and searching through Brad’s vinyl collection for anything by Police (sing with me, “Every breath you take …”) or REM. 

The 1980 Olympic hockey victory brought us to tears while four years later Carl Lewis and Mary Lou Retton brought us to cheers. When I think of the ‘80s I think of the Reagan Ranch, the Challenger, fall of the Berlin Wall, and the first PC. I think of the Wall Street Crash, Iran-Contra, and the Cold War. 

I sing along to Queen, Footloose, We Are the World, and the song of my youth, “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.”

I also think of Michael Jackson. And that’s where it gets a little touchy. 

Last week I watched part 1 of the new HBO documentary, “Leaving Neverland,” that uncovers the sordid story of Michael Jackson’s obsession with children. It’s hard to watch, in large part because this performer had such a defining role in my growing up years, the 1980s. Billy Jean, Thriller, Beat It. Even if you didn’t like Michael Jackson, you knew all the words to his song. He was everywhere. 

But I’m having a hard time listening to his music these days. Suddenly it feels like a lie, that it represents something entirely different from what I remember about his music and the ‘80s. It represents an underside that was always present — there’s always an underside, right? — but that I chose not to accept. 

I don’t mean to cast stones before everything is known about Jackson and the men who are now sharing their brutal stories. But I am reminded of how careful we have to be in choosing heroes. 

I’m also reminded of a Gospel that sets aside heroes for the sake of servants, ego for the sake of humility. I’m reminded that truth is not always connected to perception, but is found in faithful living. And, yes, I’m reminded that in spite of the sordidness of sin, there is always the promise of new life. 

The season of Lent walks us from that place of sordidness, sin, and death to a place of truth, light, and resurrection. While Mary Magdalen walked to the tomb assuming death, she walked away that Easter morn filled with life. 

The lesson: Hope wins. Love wins. Light shatters the darkness. Good stands in the way of evil. Why? Because God is always about the business of restoring the Garden until all the world might know the beauty and power of his love. 

“What’s love got to do with it?” you might ask. Everything, as it turns out. So, my fellow ‘80s friends, “Don’t stop believin’.” 

Please, don’t stop believin.’