Is Happiness Really a Warm Gun?

Life is full of paradox.

Last week, Indian Mound Middle School, where my son attends and I work as substitute teacher, held an "Intruder" drill.  Like many school districts, McFarland School District, is constantly discussing, preparing and training for a possible "intruder" event.  It is mind-numbing to even think about it happening in our schools. Sadly, it is happening all too often in our schools and in other places in our society. This morning, as I was dropping my son off at Indian Mound Middle School, we noted a bumper sticker on the car in front of us. It read: "Happiness is a Warm Gun." Sam and I had to discuss what that type of statement meant, especially with the recent shooting of a middle school teacher in Nevada and the young student who then turned the gun on himself and their preparation for a possible intruder at his school.

And then there was this quote from a letter a parent had written to her child's teacher following an intruder drill at his school.  It was on Facebook by a friend of mine who works in the Monroe School District:  "After the last intruder drill at my son’s school, the children were talking about all of the 'what if’s' that could happen in their music class. Their music teacher, a gentle, caring, soft-spoken man listened to each concern and took time to logically address each one.  My son, who normally has nightmares after the intruder drill day, raised his hand and asked his music teacher what would happen if someone had a chainsaw and forced their way into the class. 'I would die protecting you.'  This teacher’s soft but strong answer made tears roll down my cheeks. Why? Because I have no doubt that this gentle, humble soul — who would choose Mozart over violence any day — would certainly keep that promise. I know that this teacher, who wants to bring joy to children and to teach them the joy of music, must go to work each day knowing that he may have to give his life for someone else’s child."

 At the same time, as we approach the one year anniversary of the Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre, where 20 children and 6 adult staff were slain by a young gunman, Huffington Post has been sharing a story about President Obama's personal reaction and response to that particular shooting.  Here is an excerpt from the article:

"The president took a deep breath and steeled himself, and went into the first classroom...Person after person received an engulfing hug from our commander in chief. He’d say, “Tell me about your son. . . . Tell me about your daughter,” and then hold pictures of the lost beloved as their parents described favorite foods, television shows, and the sound of their laughter. For the younger siblings of those who had passed away—many of them two, three, or four years old, too young to understand it all—the president would grab them and toss them, laughing, up into the air, and then hand them a box of White House M&M’s, which were always kept close at hand. In each room, I saw his eyes water, but he did not break.  And then the entire scene would repeat—for hours. Over and over and over again, through well over a hundred relatives of the fallen, each one equally broken, wrecked by the loss. After each classroom, we would go back into those fluorescent hallways and walk through the names of the coming families, and then the president would dive back in, like a soldier returning to a tour of duty in a worthy but wearing war. We spent what felt like a lifetime in those classrooms, and every single person received the same tender treatment. The same hugs. The same looks, directly in their eyes. The same sincere offer of support and prayer.  The staff did the preparation work, but the comfort and healing were all on President Obama."

As a pastor who has had to share tragic news like the death of a loved one, I can only image what it must have been like for President Obama or any person who had to provide comfort and care that day.  As a parent, I pray that we all might wake up to the insanity of the ongoing violence and senseless shootings happening in our schools and in our communities.  I pray to God for that day to come when as the writer of Revelation (21:5a) says:  "God will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away...And God will make all things new."

"Happiness is a Warm Gun" is what the bumper sticker read. I wonder if the father has ever talked with his child about the paradox of the message conveyed on his bumper sticker, the intruder drills his son participates in during school, and the tragic school shootings like Sandy Hook? I pray, he has. If not, at least it helped me have a conversation with my son.  Hopefully, this post will help you have one with your family and friends as well.

Is "Happiness is a Warm Gun"?  I pray to God it is not and yet, for some....

Reflections on my 35th Class Reunion

“All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts,
 William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII

“Life is not a dress rehearsal.”
--Muriel Siebert

“Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.”
― Søren Kierkegaard

A few years ago, I was working out at the YMCA.   I really did not go there to workout as much as I go to watch television on all 8 of their big screen televisions!  As to not reveal my true intention for standing around on the treadmill, I had to act like I was really working out.  That is not an easy feat!

 As I began my workout, I happened to catch the morning news crew standing outside of their New York studio interviewing a group of teenagers.  The teenagers were standing in front of a big banner they had brought along with them, holding it up and waving at the cameras in hopes of being seen on national television.  It took a second for the name of the school on the banner to register with me.  Much to my surprise, they were from my alma mater, South Knox High School in Verne, Indiana! 

It is hard to believe that I graduated from South Knox 35 years ago this past May!   Thirty-five years ago, I wore my cap and gown, received my diploma, stepped off the platform and out into the world of life, filled with my many hopes and dreams.

Looking back on where I envisioned myself going as I left that the high school gym that night and where I am today, serving as a Presbyterian minister and working as a teacher, living in McFarland, Wisconsin was even a part of my wildest dreams.

35 years ago, I dreamed of owning a pickup truck, learning to dance like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever and making it past a semester in college.  I still held out some hope that the girl of my dreams would go out on a date with me, and I dreamed of playing in a country music band. 

For the record, I never got that truck, I never had a date with Sara, and my wife informs me I can’t dance.  However, there was one dream that came true.  For two summers, I sang with the Hard Times Country Band, all-be-it, it was just one song each summer.  Still, it was a dream come true! (Of course, the people in the audience probably thought it was a nightmare!)

In an e-mail with a classmate, we reflected on our high school days and where we are in life today.   At one point, we talked about the 2003 senior trip to New York City and how we did not have that opportunity when we were in school to go on a “class trip.”

My classmate said, “Of course my senior trip consisted of a honeymoon in January and then a trip to the hospital in June for the birth of my son.  But, you know, I don’t think I would trade my experiences for anything.  Only thing I missed were a few parties during my senior year, but then again, I am not sure that was all bad missing them.”

She closed her e-mail with these words - “Well better go for now.  I have to be in Evansville early tomorrow morning for my clinical.  I am finishing my Masters Degree in Nursing program.  Just three more classes after this one and I will be finished with my degree by July of 2004 – Yee Haw!”

35 years ago, her dreams took a different direction then mine.  She married, started a family all within the last months of our graduating.  After raising her family, she then went on to finish her Master’s Degree.  My life took a much different direction, one filled with heartache, pain, and disappointment.  Life also presented me with some great joys that I never imaged.  Here I am, 35 years later, a husband, a father, a minister, and an educator living in the nations Dairy Land.  Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”― Søren Kierkegaard

In the movie, Field of Dreams, there is a scene where Kevin Costner’s character Ray Kinsella, following the strange voice that has been haunting him - has gone to Chisholm, Minnesota to find a young baseball player named Archie “Moonlight” Graham.  When he finally meets “Moonlight” Graham, he learns people haven’t called him that in over 50 years.  The people of Chisholm knew him as “Doc” Graham.

After making it to the “Show” for an inning, never getting to bat and knowing that he would be sent back down to the majors, he hung up his spikes and became a doctor.  When Ray Kinsella asks him if he had an unfulfilled dream, Doc Graham says, “You know I never got to bat in the major leagues.”  When offered the chance to make that dream come true, Doc Graham says, “It will have to stay a wish.  I was born here, lived here, and I’ll die here.  But no regrets.”

Ray Kinsella can’t accept that idea. He argues, almost angrily that -  “50 years ago, you came within 5 minutes of making your dream come true, It would kill some people to come that close to a dream and not touch it.  Some would even call it a tragedy!”

 To which Doc Graham replies, “Son, if would only have gotten to be a doctor for five minutes now that would have been a tragedy.”

A crack of the bat, an out, a season over and one dream dies and another is born.  A young man becomes a doctor in a small town touching the lives of many people.  What dreams may come.

“Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” ― Søren Kierkegaard

For me, this is what the screen writers were trying to communicate to us through the movie character, “Doc” Graham.  I believe this is what my classmate came to realize about her life.  It is what I have come to realize about my own life’s journey.  May you come to understand the power of reflection as you live forward into the one dream that guides our living – God’s dream.

My Name is...


“Call me Ishmael..."  Henry Melville, Moby Dick

To borrow Melville's famous opening lines:  “Call me M-Dubs.”  Adapting his opening lines a bit further, I would say:  “Some years ago - never mind how long precisely, (actually, it was in the spring of 2010) having little or no money in my bank account, and nothing of particular to interest me on the shores of Lake Waubesa in the Madison area, I thought I would set sail in the waters of public education, and become a Substitute Teacher.”

Okay, maybe my venture back into a high school was not as glamourous as Melville made it sound for his narrator and protagonist, Ishmael, when he went set sail with Captain Ahab aboard the ship, Pequod, but it certainly has been an adventure.

William Shakespeare, in Romeo and Juliet, said:  "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."   I was born, Scott Thomas Wheeler.  While my mom and a couple of college roommates called me "Scotty,” most people simply called me - Scott.  When my wife, Staci, and I married, we choose to hyphenate our last names.  We became the Marrese-Wheeler's.  As an ordained Presbyterian minister, people would call me “Reverend Marrese-Wheeler” or “Pastor Scott.”  The youth in the congregation I served in Monroe, Wisconsin started calling me “P Scott.”  I assumed this was a shortened version of "Pastor Scott".  They might say it had something to do with the frequency of the bathroom breaks we took on our trips to youth conferences.   However, on the first day of my work as a substitute teacher at McFarland High School, I received a new name, and one that I have been called ever since.  I was asked to sub for a teacher who like me, had a hyphenated last name.  Since I was not familiar to the students, I wrote my name - "Mr. Marrese-Wheeler" - on the board.  One student noted that like their teacher, I had a hyphenated name.  He then added that with the teacher’s permission, they called her "Ms. D-W" or more informally, "D-Dubs."  Continuing, he asked if the class might refer to me as “Mr. M-W” or "M-Dubs"?  That seemed a reasonable request, and a way to connect with the students, so I said, yes.  The name has stuck.

Names are important to all of us, be they our given name or an affectionate “nickname” we inherited.  Some of us are named after a beloved family member or friend.  Some of us have been named after a famous person.  Others of us have names that our parents loved for their own reasons.  Most of us would say we are comfortable living with our name or nickname, while a few might not and have made the decision to change their name.  What is your name?  What is the story behind it?

Whether serving as the pastor of a church or working as an educator in the McFarland Schools, I have found it important to know as many people’s names as possible.  Because my work at the school was in study hall and the lunchroom, I have had daily contact with most of the students.  I worked hard to get to know as many of their first names as possible, and last names if I was able.   It was easier to get to know some students names, especially when they were constantly calling attention to themselves with their behavior (good and bad).  The real trick was to get to know the name of the student who hid in a book, blended in at a table with their friends, or sat off to the side by their self.  Students, like all of us, appreciate it when you know their name.  I believe when you get to know a student’s name, you are reminded that they, like us, are a human being, a child of God, in whom dwells the divine spark that reflects the image of the Creator.  In getting to know their individual name, you are also reminded that they not just a statistic in a data report generated for the purpose judging a teacher or a school’s ability to educate.

There are many names of students I would like to tell you about in this blog post, however, there is one in particular I feel I need to do so, though she is not a student at McFarland High School.  Her name is Anna. (Not her real name).  She is a registered nurse, an educator and a professional church musician.  She was a high school classmate of mine.  I remember her being smart, funny, and attractive.  I also remember a name several of my friends and I like to call her, and it was not her first name nor was it an affectionate “nickname.”  It was a cruel name, one we used to make fun of her.  Each day during lunch, my friends and I would sit on the steps near the water fountain (Bubbler, for all you Wisconsinites).   Each day, Anna would walk by, we would tease her, calling her by our “special” name.  She hated it and reacted to it, yelling at us to stop.  We didn’t stop. We pushed things even further and had tee-shirts made that said:  “We Hate (Cruel Name Here)!”    We thought we were being so clever and “cool” wearing those shirts.  Little did I know the negative impact our name calling was having on her.

I am not sure who is the source of the words:  “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me!”   Whoever came up with that expression is wrong.  If you work in a school, you are aware of the pain caused by a text message or post on Facebook or a tweet on Twitter by teenagers.  As a pastor, I have preached sermons on the topic of labeling other people.  I have spent time with the youth in the churches I have served, talking with them about how the words we use can edifiy or demonlish another person.   I have helped co-advise the Gay-Straight Alliance, http://www.gsanetwork.org, a group whose purpose is to create a safe space in school for students to support each other, learn about homophobia, transphobia, and other oppressions, and fight discrimination, harassment, and violence in schools.   I felt I was being a good educator and pastor.  It seems I had one more lesson, and this one a painful one, to learn.

A few years ago, when I signed up for Facebook, I started sending “Friend” requests to my high school classmates.  I sent one to Anna.  She responded, wondering why I would want to be her “friend” after all the pain I had caused her in high school.  She told me about the lingering effects my “name-calling” had on her life.  How she had considered leaving our school because our cruelty.  At the end of her very pointed note, she asked me to consider how I would feel if I had a daughter who was treated the way my friends and I had treated her?

It would be too easy to beg her forgiveness saying, I was just a teenager who did not know how much power there is in a name, especially in a name used to tease a young high school girl.  Maybe I thought of my actions as just harmless teasing, but they were not.  They had caused Anna great pain.  So let me say publicly, what I have said to her privately.  Anna, I am sorry.  I know my words of apology can never be enough to make up for all the emotional even spiritual pain my part in the name-calling caused you.  No, I would not want anyone to treat my child or any child, the way I treated you.  I promised you I would tell this story, sharing it in a way that might help others realize the pain we can inflict on others by our words, especially the names we use to tease, taunt, trash-talk, put down, ridicule, or bully others.   These names can do great harm to another’s self-worth.  They can also help to destory the sense of the sacred in the person who we are ridiculing.   Our abuse of another’s name has one more consquence, it can demolish the Holy in us, making it difficult for others to see God in us, and even more so, for us to see the Divine Light within ourselves.

In Arthur Miller’s classic, The Crucible, a play about the Salem Witch Trials, the character, John Proctor, is wrestling with his conscience about signing his name to a confession that he is a “witch.”  If he does, his soul will be saved, but his good name and reputation will be destroyed.  He begs the church officials, crying out, “...How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!"

Her name is Anna.  My name is Scott or if you perfer, M-Dubs.  Your name is ________.   Our names are important to us.  We are known by those names.  By whatever name we are known by to our family, friends, classmates, or co-workers, there is one name we all are called, and that name is - Child of God.

“But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine."    (Isaiah 43:1 NRSV)