Author: Mark Alexander

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The Worst Person Leading the Greatest Country

From John Pavlovitz:

Last week I hopped into a cab in Toronto, heading to the airport after a weekend speaking engagement.

My driver’s name was Mohammed; a middle-aged man born in Afghanistan, who earned his PhD, and moved here in his twenties.

We talked about the weather, about my work; about our children, about family car trips to Disney World.

Then we got to talking about America.

As we got closer to the airport, I joked with him, that given my open critiques of the current Administration, I was unsure whether they’d let me back in, and with my feelings about the current state of thing—I wasn’t all that excited to go back anyway.

Mohammed quickly grew animated.

“I just don’t understand this!” he said, his voice booming, his arms forming a shrug, and his face reflecting incredulity.

“How can the worst person in the world, be given the greatest country in the world to lead? he remarked. “It’s disgusting.”

Before I could respond, he went on.

“The whole world is laughing at America. It’s a global joke, what he’s doing. It makes me so angry.”

As Mohammed shared his heart with me, I was simultaneously encouraged, ashamed, and pissed off.

It was a comfort to hear a voice outside of my country express solidarity with me and the millions in America who feel like prisoners of this predatory, fraudulent Administration.

It was embarrassing to realize that for the first time in my life, I have trepidation to claim America as my own, because of all it now represents.
It angered me, that a middle-aged man from Afghanistan could be more perceptive and wise than 62 million of my countrymen—and women who’ve spent their lives here and have much more at stake.

It was a cab ride that I was sorry to see end.

I’m sure this President isn’t technically the worst person in the world—but let’s just say he’s making a really strong showing in the competition.

But their was sad truth beneath his hyperbole. My new friend, Mohammed gets it all: the bigotry he’s unleashed here, the hypocrisy of religious people who support him, the ineptitude that the entire world is talking about, the fractures to our national image.

He sees that the differences and the fear and the isolation that this President brokers in, are dangerous things.

Most of all he sees that this nation is being led by someone far beneath it, not worthy of it, detrimental to it.

I’m hopeful enough people in America see such things; that regardless of political affiliation, religious worldview, or nation of origin, a vast majority is as stupefied and outraged as Mohammed is these days—and ready to vote and rescue themselves.

I hope that more people in this country can see what so much of the world sees about us:

That we are a great nation.
That we are a place filled with beautiful diversity.
That we do deserve far better than this.

I said goodbye to my new friend and headed into the terminal, but the whole way home his words bounced around repeatedly in my head:

“How can the worst person in the world, be given the greatest country in the world to lead? It’s disgusting.”

It really is, Mohammed.

It really is.

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Wow!

We finally got out to the movies yesterday and saw A Quiet Place.

All I can say is, “Wow! What a great movie!” and I’m so glad we got to see it in the theater instead of waiting for Netflix. This is one film what needs to be experienced in a dark theater without any sort of outside distractions.

While the general structure of the film echoes many a sci-fi trope (The Waveries by Fredric Brown immediately comes to mind), A Quiet Place ramps up the fear factor to 11 and immediately turns it into a good old-fashioned monster movie. No explanation is given as to how the creatures came to be, where they came from, or what their ultimate goal was—other than to ravenously eat any living thing that makes a noise.

The sense of claustrophobia in this movie telling the story of a seemingly isolated family in the aftermath of a global apocalypse is compounded by a skillful use of absolute silence punctuated by the movie score.

And without giving anything away, the ending is one of the best I’ve seen in years. It’s been a while since I was in a theater that spontaneously erupted in applause when the credits started to roll.

If you’re a fan of the genre—or only want to spend some quality time with a very hunky bearded John Krasinski, set two hours aside and go see it. You won’t be disappointed.

(I just read there is already a sequel in the works. If they must do this, I seriously hope it isn’t a sequel, but rather a prequel. Considering this film starts on “Day 89,” I want to see what happened Day 0-88.)

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Shower Thoughts

It’s odd how we define laundry. Clothes become laundry when they’re taken off and put in a basket. They remain laundry until they’re washed, dried and put away and then they become clothes again.

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Who Wants American Evangelical Heaven?

From John Pavlovitz:

I’m going to hell.

At least this is what American Evangelicals often like to tell me.

Apparently though, I’m not alone.

According to them I’m in very good company, as a vast portion of the planet will be eventually be joining me in the corporate weeping and the gnashing of our collective teeth—along with the billions of others, whose incessant torment is already currently in progress.

And sure, on some days the thought of such eternal damnation does seems like more than a bit of a bummer, and I find myself struggling not to let it ruin beautiful afternoons at the park, quiet moments with my kids, and joyous dinners with friends.

The idea of not going to Heaven certainly tends to cast a pall over things at times: movies, vacations, kickboxing classes.

However, the more I begin to visualize the actual Heaven these folks are supposedly excluding me from, the less and less worrisome the prospect becomes:

Apparently Heaven is going to be strictly America First.

Only English will be spoken in Heaven. Everyone else will just have to adjust.

It’s also going to be very, very, very white; with caucasian dudes (like God and Jesus) running the show and making the rules. The ladies will be taking care of the meals and the kids and whatnot.

There will of course, be no Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, Wiccans, Unitarians, Agnostics, Atheists, backsliders, heretics, doubters, sinners, or Democrats there.

(There may be a few Mainline Protestants, if they manage to slip through security.)

In American Evangelical Heaven, there will be no gays or lesbians; no transgender people, no bisexual folks, no non-binary or gender fluid individuals—or anyone aiding and abetting them by actually respecting and loving them here on earth.

Also from what I’m able to gather by the brimstone prognosticators here who are certain of their inclusion, American Evangelical heaven will be filled with people who:

• deny others healthcare
• withhold charity from the poor
• politically support predators
• willfully destroy the environment
• fiercely guard their borders
• contest the value of black lives
• fear immigrants, refugees, and people with brown skin

Of course, these will not be issues in Heaven, since there will be no hunger or thirst, no suffering or pain, no sadness or grief. In other words—there will be no one there to bother them with any actual need requiring their compassion, like there were here on earth.

In American Evangelical Heaven, there will be no beggars or poor to be a drain on society Everyone there will have pulled themselves up by their own bootstraps. (Well, actually they’ll have all received unmerited mercy and grace they could never deserve—but why quibble over technicalities.)

I’ve been a Christian for most of my life, and I’ve seen hell used as a way of modifying behavior and controlling people by preying upon their greatest fears. I’ve seen it wielded like a weapon in the hands of people who don’t seem all that loving or merciful (or fun to be around.)

I’ve seen Heaven turned into a gated community of straight white, politically partisan American people—where diversity really won’t be represented and where difference will be turned away at the door.

It’s evolved into a fortified bunker of nationalism, homophobia, misogyny, and bigotry.

The more the image of these people’s Heaven becomes, the less and less trepidation I have of my soul’s resting place somewhere outside of it.

Receiving their damnation actually begins to feel like dodging a bullet.

I may be condemned to suffer all manner of unimaginable horrors, but I won’t have to suffer their hateful, exclusionary, angry religion, or to live surrounded by people who seem so joyful at the thought of other’s damnation and so callous toward such a vast swath of humanity supposedly made in the image of God.

If Heaven is filled with only American Evangelicals—I’ll pass.

Hell seems like a much more beautiful place.

Shorter version? “Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.” ~ Mark Twain

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I’m Going To Hell


“George is lighting Frank’s cigarette! Do you think he’s gonna ask him out?”


“Damn George, I never realized how big your hands were…how big and masculine.”

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