Monday, June 30, 2014

I Don't Understand the Hobby Lobby Case


I Don’t Understand the Hobby Lobby Case

Written by Dan McDonald

 

            It was a simple case the Supreme Court ruled upon in regards to Hobby Lobby.  It must have been because everyone on Twitter and Facebook described in such easy terms what the decision should have been.  Unfortunately for me it was more complex than I could get my thoughts to surround.  I found myself singing those lyrics by Warren Zevon made famous once upon a time by Linda Ronstadt.  I was rubbing my head over how I couldn't understand this simple case to the point that I began to mutter “Poor, poor pitiful me.”

            My conservative friends assured me it was a simple case of religious liberty for a man who owned a company.  Pro-life friends said this was a case of one's convictions that should not be ruled against by the government.  My progressive friends regarded this as a case of a corporation stifling their employees rights to health care as stipulated by national law.  I understood that surely someone's claims upon liberty were going to be upheld and another's claim was going to be rejected.

            I didn't hear many on either side asking who it is that owns the jobs we do.  I know a number of Conservatives who speak as if an owner offers and owns the jobs and decides whom he will keep and whom he will dismiss.  But someone somewhere once told me that employers and employees share ownership of a job.  There are varieties of ways this shared ownership takes place.  There are agreements between a business owner and an individual which are expressly agreed upon contracts; some are written contracts, and some are simply implied agreements.  At what point does an owner of a company's religious freedoms give that owner an ability to deny to an employee a benefit the employee was apparently granted through national legislation?  Who owns the jobs and who may determine benefits packages when religious conviction is opposed to national legislation?  I didn't quite see how simple this Supreme Court decision was.

            What sort of corporations or individuals ought to be able to claim a religious conviction which results in limiting and redefining our nation’s laws on health plans?  How varied are the corporations we recognize under American law?  We recognize that not every corporation is a publically held corporation with shares marketable to the public.  Some corporations exist as privately held companies and are described by a distinct status known as "closely held."  The laws of our land have distinguished publically held corporations from the much more private "closely held" examples of corporations.  Is it important in protecting liberties to distinguish between a corporation "closely held" by a small group of persons with shared faith and convictions or should the distinction between "closely held" and "publically held" corporations be eliminated?  Should the Supreme Court simply sweep away the distinction by its ability to make a determination in an instance of judicial review?  Are we willing to recognize that some issues have not yet been determined unto a realistic societal consensus and so should be allowed certain freedom of action at a less than nationalized level?  Or must law be in each and every instance a universal command affecting all individuals and entities equally regardless of personal conviction?  Might it not be actually to the benefit of society to allow variation of practices regarding issues not yet determined by a definite general consensus of the governed?  Poor, poor pitiful me it doesn't seem like such a simple case to me.

            I find this case to be anything but simple, but that is just me.  But then I see in my mind a scene from a classic movie from the 1960's.  The actor is playing the person of Sir Thomas More in the movie "A Man for all Seasons."  Everyone around him has a simple way of making everything better.  But this imperfect man of law argues for the complexity of a nation filled with laws.  He resists those who would simplify the system of laws and clear down the forests of encumbrances to what seems obviously needed to be done.  He argues for the imperfection of man's laws over the perfections of God's laws or our ideals.  Does he have a point.  He seems to make a fine point in my confusion, but I'll let you watch and ponder and you can answer for yourself if his concerns are wise concerns.  Please watch and listen to the argument expressed by the actor portraying Sir Thomas More in “A Man for all Seasons.”




            The truth is that mankind's gradual work of creating laws which protect both liberty and justice ends up being a gradual messy business.  If an individual strives and pursues enlightenment and struggles to make himself as near to perfection as he can, then so does a society and a nation through the laws it creates.  Some laws are created to express the agreed upon consensus and some laws are as well created to allow the expression and practice of variation and dissent.  It is through such laws that human society is protected even if in the process the devil is given the benefit of law.  Is this so much different from how God rules over the righteous and the evil by granting sunshine and showers equally upon both?  Or must we think of law only as the expression of the perfect no matter how many voices of dissent must be crushed in the process?  Who among us should wish for ourselves the power to cut down all the trees under which the devil would find a hiding place?  Or should we be more concerned that if ever we were able to cut down all the trees in the creation that the winds that blew in upon us would leave us neither a windbreak from the winds or shade from hot summer sun?  So I am content that today the Supreme Court made a very specific and limited ruling giving some leeway to specifically designed sort of corporation known as a "closely held" corporation the ability to dissent for conscience' sake from a specifically limited provision in the national health legislation.  The court neither destroyed the national health care act nor did it answer all the potential details of the ongoing struggle between national policy and individual conscience.  If the court cut down a tree in the ruling it left the forest.  But I say this not understanding the case whatsoever.

A Day of Baseball and a Card Key


A Day of Baseball and the Card Key

Written by Dan McDonald

            I began to follow Major League baseball in 1965 or 1966.  My first baseball hero was Willie Mays.  I didn’t play well, but that didn’t keep me from trying to make a basket catch of a pop up or fly ball when I was in the field.  Willie Mays’ trademark was his basket catch.  He held his glove near his belt and caught the ball right next to his belt.  He was one of the great fielders, making “The Catch” in the 1954 World Series.  He was still one of the greatest players in the game in 1965 and 1966.  My favorite quip I once heard was how a sports’ reporter writing of Mays winning an All-Star game with a triple, described Mays’ hit saying “The only guy in the park who could have caught the ball, was the one that hit it.”  I never got to see Willie play in person, but when I realized the Giants would be playing at AT&T Park while I was in San Francisco, I decided I had to go see the Giants.  AT&T Park if you don’t know where it is in downtown San Francisco with an address of 24 Willie Mays Plaza.  Look at this picture below for where I entered into the stadium on my first full day in California.


 

            The desk clerk on Friday evening after I had checked in told me the best way to get to a Giants’ game.  It wasn’t to drive your car into San Francisco.  She recommended that I take my rental car to the Milbrae Station where one could get commuter train service on either the Caltrain or the BART railway systems.  She told me the BART didn’t run near AT&T Park but the Caltrain would get me in easy walking distance from the ballpark.  We’ll get to that story later.  I had my trip to the ballpark planned and then came frustration on Saturday morning.  I had a nice breakfast and returned to my room but my card key wouldn’t work.  The hotel staff sent someone to help me check it out and it still didn’t work for my card but did for the staff key.  It got frustrating but gradually I collected all I needed to go to the game.  While I went to the game, the staff had new batteries even a replacement lock mechanism installed.  But when I came back my card still didn't work.  Then one of the staff members at the front desk said, “A lot of customers put our key cards in wrong.  The writing is upside down when you are putting the card into the lock correctly.”  Suddenly I realized nothing had been wrong with the lock, or the card, just my way of using the card.  I was embarrassed.  The first night I had been wearing my reading glasses, so I saw clearly the arrow pointing downwards indicating how the card went in.  On Saturday I was not wearing my reading glasses.  The arrow was blurred so I simply put the card into the mechanism with the writing right side up, which really was the wrong side up.  The staff seemed to ignore my embarrassed apologies for the trouble I put everybody to.  One upside was that after I left the hotel for a few days to go to Yosemite, and then returned the next weekend, the lady at the desk that checked me in said, "Let's see you are Mr. McDonald."  I hadn't introduced myself or shown my identification but she remembered politely the guy that had all the card trouble.  This time the one who made the card key for my use while staying at the hotel carefully explained how the card worked.  Somehow I already knew this second time, but I appreciated his telling me.  Maybe it will save someone a few trips to the desk to figure out why their card key isn't working.

The Milbrae Station was a great choice to catch the Caltrain.  There was plenty of parking for automobiles there and I had no trouble finding the right train.  I did wonder if I was really on the right train, but as I looked around at a full load of passengers, with almost everyone aboard wearing Giants’ caps and shirts and even socks – I felt pretty comfortable that this was the train heading to the “old ballgame.”  Riding the Caltrain was a time and money saver.  Parking in downtown San Francisco can be very expensive.  Also I usually spent about an hour extra anytime I drove in San Francisco as I would miss a turn and then try to figure out how to get back to square one.  I was definitely a tourist.  My advice to anyone planning a San Francisco trip, find out all you can about Caltrain, BART, and buses before you go.  Hotels are very expensive downtown so I chose one not far from the airport for a much better price.  Use the bay area's public transportation system.  It serves the area well and is reliable.  That is how I will do it if I ever go to San Francisco again.

            I had spent some extra on my ticket because I wanted memorable seats for this opportunity to sit in a park in the city where Mays, McCovey, and Marichal got crowds charged up in the 1960's.  I was happy when I reached my seat and could take this picture of the field from my seat and had this wonderful view of the field.


 

            I was sitting a few rows in front of the guys in the broadcast booth.  These were some of the best seats in the park.  I had gone alone.  I had gone wondering how lonely it might be to go to a game alone.  The reality is, going to a baseball game is for a churchgoer something like going to church.  There is a liturgy that people follow.  The public address system and instructions on the scoreboard often leads people in cheers, as a hymn board lets people know what to sing and a bulletin let's people know where to look in the prayer book or what is about to happen after the invocation.  People joined together in following the liturgy begin to look around at one another as if they have something in common.  In a baseball game, the guy behind you who is pointing out things to someone who knows less about baseball than himself is often a wonderful person to discuss the game.  You realize he knows what he is talking about and is polite with his knowledge of the game.  That is the sort of person you find yourself asking questions about different players, because to be honest I know more, lots more about the 65 Giants than the 2014 Giants.  I know that in the end the Giants won a fight but the Dodgers won the pennant.  But here is a guy who can tell me about today's players and which ones are a special joy to watch.  On this day, our section was rooting for the Giants and we had something in common.  There were cheers going on even if not everyone knew your name, but still you were together watching every pitch, watching others in the stands catch foul balls, watching good plays and not so good plays.  There was a sense of community for the fans watching the ballgame.  That is how we human beings are.  We might come from different backgrounds, and not know the person sitting next to us; but if we begin to experience something together with that person even an introvert manages to speak up and enjoy conversation with someone with whom he has a connection.  Human life is created in the vulnerability of individuality lived alone and capable of being painfully lonely.  But human life was also created to be brought into a culture with its liturgy and rhythm of life.

            It wasn’t the Giants’ day.  It almost was.  The Giants led by one going into the ninth.  In the top of the ninth we cheered hoping for three outs and no runs and a victory.  It got to two out and a runner on first base.  The batter hit a ball into centerfield.  It dropped in for a single as the centerfielder ran to cut it off.  The centerfielder fell running for the ball.  The ball hopped by him towards the wall.  The right-fielder ran after the ball, but by the time he retrieved it a stunned audience tried to take in how they had just witnessed a two-run inside the park home run.  In the bottom of the ninth a slight hope rose on a botched play.  With one out the Giants hitter hit a pop up.  The third baseman, shortstop, and pitcher stood near the pitching mound.  Each of them looked at the others to determine who would catch the ball.  No one caught it.  It just dropped in between them, and the one who customarily should have called for the ball was charged with an error.  The Giants had the tying run on base.  The final hitter hit a ground ball.  The runner was out at second, the throw to first was close and a long review followed ending in the call “out” at first base, double play complete, game over.  Giants lose.  But still it was fun and I saw a Giants game and went through the Willie Mays Gate and had the best major league seats to view a game that I ever had in my life.

            I wandered about the area because I wanted to get one more picture when the crowds around the stadium had dwindled down.  But for some reason it didn’t turn out so I am borrowing one from the internet.  This is the Willie Howard Mays Jr. statue.  If you ever saw Willie Mays hit a home-run, you probably remember seeing him watch his drive going over the wall and his body in this position.  Whenever a pitcher saw Mays looking like this after a pitch, he just stuck his glove out and waited for the umpire to put a new ball in play.  The old ball was somewhere in the seats beyond the outfield wall.  I wonder if the Willie of my youth had been the centerfielder would that single that became an inside the park home run been out number three and a Giants' win.  The little kid in me was the one who sat in a seat at the park on a beautiful Saturday for the baseball game that reminded him of heroes whose names and numbers surround the stadium like icons of apostles and saints around our little parish sanctuary.  I am not equating the two by any means, but I bow my head and remember that now I understand a little more that I did before that I have been created for the liturgy.