Author: toddrivetti

Below is the link to my review of three books on immigration. Each book provides a varied and helpful analysis of issues surrounding this complex topic.

Three Books About Immigration

Below is a link to my review of Richard Rohr’s book on Christ. As you can see from my review I thoroughly enjoyed this book and highly recommend it.

Review of – The Universal Christ – by Richard Rohr

Below is the link to my summary and review of Martin Wolf’s book “The Crisis of Democratic Capitalism.” The amount of ground that he covers in this work is impressive and I highly recommend taking the time to read it.

The Crisis of Democratic Capitalism – by Martin Wolf

The problem of how to read the bible well is an ongoing issue within all churches. I’ve just put together a summary of six books that I’ve found helpful in thinking about a variety of issues on this broad topic. The summary can be found at this link:

https://toddrivetti.com/evangelicals-and-the-problem-of-the-bible/

Thank goodness for rocking chairs. Moving back and forth in a smooth rhythmic fashion has made much of my life far more pleasant. From childhood, into adolescence, and then adulthood, rocking in a variety of types of chairs has served me well. In early childhood I often spent time in the soft, spring-loaded chair in our living room gazing out the front window while looking across the street to where a large field beckoned a variety of birds to feed. During my adolescent years I often parked myself into a comfortable rocking chair in our finished basement to read while a blazing, wood-burning stove warmed the room. Two different rocking chairs in my grandmother’s small home provided a respite from the cacophony of family gatherings. Unfortunately, I had to vie for time in those chairs with several cousins who sought the same rhythmic refuge. After graduating college and getting my first apartment, my first purchase was a wonderful wooden rocker with perfect angles on the runners and excellent support for the lower back that I found at a thrift store in Sacramento, California. To this day, I only really feel comfortable sitting when in a rocking chair. The ability to move back and forth helps me to relax and concentrate. I can work in a stationary chair…but to truly relax and enjoy myself…or to think deeply and work on solving complex problems…a rocking chair moves things to a completely different level…

On November 11 I always think of a veteran that I never met. My maternal grandfather died on this date in 1940, over 7 months before my mother was born. He died at work during his shift at the Westinghouse facility in Sharon, PA on that day long ago. The holiday at that time was known as Armistice Day to mark the end of fighting in the First World War. My grandfather was a veteran of that war. My grandmother became certain of her pregnancy while walking from the grave site the day of my grandfather’s funeral when she became unbearably nauseous. Her world had turned completely upside down. The war in Europe was raging, and soon the rest of the world would explode into the full chaos of the Second World War. On this day I always think of the trauma that my grandmother faced…and that so many others during that time would also face…life is hard…

A few years-ago my oldest son suggested that we both wrestle in a tournament that he was entering in the spring of his Junior year of high school. He jokingly said in the presence of my wife – “it’ll be like a father son tournament.”  I said “sure”.…not really thinking too much about it…but, was definitely surprised that my wife agreed so easily. A few weeks later while gathering my things together to go weigh-in and compete, my wife said – “so who are the other fathers wrestling in the tournament today?” I started laughing and said – “Oh my – there’s not going to be anyone within 20 years of my age wrestling today” – (I was 51 at the time). Needless to say – she was not happy…. (the words she unleased would make any sailor proud…among other things she said was if I “broke anything” we weren’t getting it fixed). She protested that I said it was a father son tournament. I told her that we said “like” a father son tournament. The distinction was not appreciated like I had hoped….

Two days after the inauguration and I can say that I had no idea how much I would appreciate the change. Yes – I agreed with many of the previous administration’s policies, and supported their aims in many of the programs that they championed. But the chaos and evil that they perpetuated will not be missed. It feels so refreshing to be able to disagree with the current administration without also having that sick feeling that they lack any moral sense to which an appeal can be made. At least this administration seems to want to work at things from their perspective of right and wrong…a conversation can begin…

When I was a teenager in high school I was riding with my father through the downtown area of the small town where I grew up. On one of the street corners was standing a very large African American man. My father rolled down the widow and began talking with the man. They exchanged pleasantries and we drove away. I asked – “who was that?” My father told me his name and then began to describe almost super-human stories about what this man had done when they worked together on construction jobs over the years. He told about how this man had stood on one side of a concrete chute that had fallen and lifted it while seven other men lifted the other side. He also described how this guy had lifted a car all by himself out of a ditch. But the story that caught my attention was about how one morning all by himself he had mixed 39 batches of mortar by hand for a brick laying crew when the automatic mixer had broken down.

Little did I know that a few short years later, at 19 years of age I would get to test myself to see how well I measured up to this story. I worked as a general laborer for a brick-mason company during the summer after my freshman year of college. We were building an apartment complex consisting of a series of low-rise apartment buildings and a community center in the middle of the complex. On one of the mornings when we were working on the community center, the mortar mixer broke down. Our crew was comprised of seven brick-layers and two general laborers (me being one of the two laborers). The job of the laborers was to build the scaffolding, mix the mortar, and provide the bricks and mortar to each of the masons in a timely fashion (in other words we had to keep the masons working smoothly or everything broke down).

That morning, as usual the laborers had started 30 minutes earlier than the rest of the crew to get things started. Just after we had set out the mortar boards (yes – there are real mortar boards – not just the type attached to academic caps), we loaded the bricks and started the mixer to get the mortar ready. The mixer sputtered and stopped. The masons were arriving on the job and our boss was concerned that he would be stuck paying for a crew that couldn’t get anything done. I looked at the other laborer named Verne and said – “we can do this.” He smiled and said – I think we can too. We said to our boss – “we can do this…you go and get replacement parts and we’ll keep things going.” He looked at us very skeptically and said “ok let’s see how it goes.”

The bulk of the materials were located at the front of the building. We were set up to work in the rear of the building. It had rained a great deal the past few nights and the job-site was full of mud so we couldn’t use the flat-bed truck to haul the materials to the rear of the building. Everything needed to be carried by hand to the rear. I looked at Verne and said, help me load the bags of mortar onto my shoulders (each bag weighed 70 pounds). I placed the first one my right shoulder – he placed a second on top of that – and then I grabbed a third with my left arm and cradled it to my side as I began walking around the building through the mud, hoping that my boots wouldn’t get stuck. I made two quick trips so that I had six bags to start while Verne laid out a plank walk-way around building to wheel a brick-barrow with bricks.

I immediately grabbed a mixing hoe started mixing the mortar in an old-fashioned mortar tub. I bent over at 7:50 am and didn’t straighten up until noon, mixing non-stop until our lunch break. My whole body entered into the process of straining against the handle. Back and forth, then chopping up and down, my arms pushed and pulled the blade as I mixed bag after bag of mortar. My legs bent and swayed forward and backward supporting my spine as every part of my body contributed to the task.

When we finally broke for lunch our boss had just arrived back with parts to fix the mixer. Verne looked at me and said, guess how many you did. I had no idea, I had been far too intensely focused on keeping the masons fully occupied with enough mortar. He smiled – 39. I couldn’t believe it…and neither could he. Our boss was even more amazed. He definitely wasn’t given to handing out compliments…but even he smiled and said – “that was pretty good.” Thinking back on that day from this vantage point – I can’t even imagine doing something like that today in my late fifties. That body no longer exists.

The past two Sundays have been the first times that I’ve attended church since the beginning of the Pandemic of 2020. I have to admit – I did not miss attending church as much as I thought I would. In fact, I can see why many people who get out of the rhythm of attending church just drift away…it seems as if it would be much easier to just slide away than I had imagined. In fact, about the only thing that I missed was seeing and being with other followers of Jesus. There is something about just being with other people who are trying/struggling to engage with God through Jesus that can’t be replicated in private.