Pastor Peters: The Deconstruction Of Marriage

When is this gent going to write that book that needs to be read by so many?

Today's post is especially poignant, as the Pastor looks at how we have managed to so totally 'deconstruct' our lives and society as to leave both completely fragmented. 'All the king's horses, and all the king's men...' does come to mind when reading these thoughts.

The problem with deconstruction is that when we are left with only the parts, we also leave it to others or to the moment to reconstruct those parts into something (and therefore leave it to another day to be deconstructed over again). The end result of this is that our social institutions and values have broken down, we are even more fragmented as a people, and even more disappointed in what we have and our future. Far from offering us stability or hope, the result of deconstruction is that we have been left divided, bitter, and captive to the prevailing wind of the moment. We have no common morality or values to bind our diverse people together and we have no common vision of what the present or the future should be.

We were not created to live this way. And in saying this, OldSouth asserts that, yes indeed, we are creations, not accidents. We need not live this way, or at least let it dominate everything about our existence.

One of the most memorable 'deconstruction' moments in OS's inglorious life occurred about fifteen years ago, at Harvey Brown Presbyterian Church in Louisville. OS and his lovely bride were visiting on a Sunday morning, only to find that the service was being led by seminarians from Louisville Presbyterian Seminary. (Fair enough, gotta let the kids get some experience under the belt.) The brave young boys and girls decided to take the venerable Geneva order of service, and rewrite the liturgy based upon Dr. Seuss's environmentalist tome, The Lorax.

The service was, well, nonsense. Mr. and Mrs. OS sat in the pew, amazed, suppressing their laughter, when the best moment of all occurred: One dear old saint, eighty years old at least, stood up and walked out down the center aisle, deliberately striking her cane loudly upon the hard tile floor. Each impact reverberated through the church, like a hammer striking a nail. It was wonderful.

OS wishes he had followed her, but he was too polite. Or too timid. He prays for the good sense and character to follow her example in the days ahead.