Some anniversaries come unexpectedly.  Yesterday was one of them.  I was in Mrs. Pence's 4th grade class when the principal came over the intercom to tell us President Kennedy had been shot.  As a fourth grader I had no Idea what that meant.  We were also told school was to be dismissed and we were to go straight home.  When I arrived home my dad was on the couch watching television.  He was home early from work and that is when I realized something was wrong.  My dad didn't arrive home from work until after five o'clock and dinner would soon be on the table.  Not that day. My brother and I couldn't go out to play.  We were to play in our bedroom.  That was 53 years ago.  In over half a century, no one who is able to remember where they were when Kennedy was shot forgets.  It was a very long weekend that November of 1963. A very long and sad weekend, indeed.

Whatever happened to "You're welcomed?"  As I watch television or listen to the radio, the host will, at the conclusion of the conversation, say "THANK you" to the guest and the guest's reply is "Thank YOU."  I don't get it.  When opening a door as a courtesy, I was taught to say in reply to the "Thank you" from the one for whom the door was opened was to say "You're welcomed."  Now I hear "Thank YOU" echoed everywhere. "You're welcomed" has all but disappeared from polite conversation.  It's one "Thank you" after another; as if a transaction wasn't completed; as if it's ongoing and needs more comment.  "Thank you."  "No, Thank YOU."  'No, Thank you."   Where will it all end?  Is it too difficult a thing anymore to receive a verbal mention of gratitude with a genuine "You're welcomed?"  I know this might seem odd as a topic for a pastor's pen, but it's been on my mind for a few weeks and I thought this more appropriate than any comment pro or con on our most recent election.  This way I can remain above the political fray.  And by the way, "You're welcomed."

I was watching the news a couple of nights ago and the civil war in Syria was worth two minutes and 12 seconds of precious air time.  Four different soldiers were shown firing their weapons over walls at some perceived enemy.  Over 12% of the Syrian population is either dead or wounded according to the United Nations.  That's more than 470,000 dead; 1.9 million wounded.  If those statistics were compared to America, they would be a combined 38.4 million dead or wounded.  Those are staggering statistics.  What's more, nearly half of Syria's citizens is either displaced or officially refugees.  The city of Alleppo is where the fighting is currently raging.  Its population is larger than Houston's.  I don't think we could imagine that kind of death and destruction in America.  Today we go to the polls to vote.  However unpleasant this campaign has been, our sons and daughters are not killing each other to determine who rules.  We press buttons in a voting booth.  We don't pull triggers behind barricades.  When I wake up Wednesday morning, no matter who the winners are, I still have a roof over my head, cash in my pocket, and the "right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."  Would that all God's children were so fortunate.

When next you read the Pastor's Memo it will be after the World Series and the 2016 Presidential election.  We'll know by then if the Cubs are still lovable losers or the toast of Chicago and the baseball world.  We'll also know who will be the president of the United States for the next four years.  There is no comparing the two.  After all, baseball is only a sport; being president is of consequence for all the world.   If Chicago is delirious with victory we can share in their delirium with as much fanfare as our wallets will allow.  If, on the other hand, Cub fans must cry in their beer, well, we can sympathize with them.  And say, as has been said for over a century, "Wait until next year."  We're not permitted such a choice about the election of a U.S, President.  Fateful decisions are in his or her hands.  The siren voices of advice and threat are everywhere to be heard.  Choices for good and ill must be made every day.  Like it or not, life and death will be on the president's plate more often than not.  Just remember this: both Mrs. Clinton and Mr. Trump asked for the job and spent an alarmingly huge sum of money trying to win it.  One of them will have it.  Only one.  Pray God our next president will rise to the task and be found worthy for a season of leadership none can imagine until after the oath of office is administered.