Friday, November 19, 2010

Dear Jones

This little sparrow music box was a gift from my Grandpa a few years ago, not too long before he passed away. I keep the note he hand wrote me folded up inside it, because my grandpa wasn't one for writing letters. If you could read the letter for yourself, you'd learn that the music box was a gift to him for being a member of the "Sparrow Club". This club is made up of donors to the religious telivision show, Hour of Power, put on by Robert Shuller's chruch, The Crystal Cathedral. If you've been reading the headlines you may have noticed that this church has filed for Chapter 11. Apparently my grandpa's regular contributions couldn't keep them from accruing $43 million of debt. Church leaders, including Mr. Shuller's daughter Sheila, have been paid hundreds of thouands of dollars in salaries. My heart cries, "Shame!", at the same time knowing my grandpa could've seen the extravagence a long time ago and chosen to put is money somewhere else. He was an intelligent man and I know he wasn't the only elderly person sucked into thinking they were doing a good thing by sending money to this mega-church rather than buying a bag of McD's burgers for the homeless guy on the corner.

This is my blanket apology to non-Christians, to the poor, to the starving, to the wounded because we have been stupid...really stupid. No offense grandpa, but I love the letter much more than the gilded edges of this gaudy music box. There. I said it. It's gaudy and all I can say is shame to the highest degree of shame.

P.S. - As you can see from the letter, my nickname was Jones. Is it too late in life to insist people start calling me that? It makes me sound like some sort of investigator about to crack a case.

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