Pilgrim's Wilderness (Tom Kizzia)

In the early 2000s, Robert Hale- AKA "Papa Pilgrim"- and his family (wife and 15 kids) made their way to Alaska to settle near an abandoned copper mine and 13 miles from a remote frontier town (McCarthy) deep in the mountains. Homesteaders and strict Christians, they occasionally played their amazing music for the small town but mostly wanted to be left alone. Their quirky ways and suspicious activities were complicated by National Park Service allegations concerning family conduct on property outside of their deed . . . town residents soon took sides as the story gained attention. But focus shifted as things took a horrible turn; the family was hiding a deep secret. Papa Pilgrim was not the holy man he claimed- and years of stealing, lying, incest, control, and other horrors would soon come to light.

Though an avid reader, it's not often that I push beyond my daily goal for a book. Nearing 300 pages, I assumed I would read this in five-six days; I finished it in two. Kizzia is a good writer, interlacing the main story with chapters on flashbacks to cogent points of Hale's prior life in Texas and New Mexico. You learn a bit about the ways and quirks of remote Alaskan frontier towns, but the story focuses in on (first) the battle between the NPS and the Hale family, and (second) Hale's dark secrets as they emerge. I'm not even sure how to categorize this. History? Journalism? Crime? Whatever, it is a heartbreaking story told masterfully.

Fresh off Butterfield's The Gospel Comes With a House Key, I'm struck by the contrasts. In both cases, you have people preaching a radical form of Christianity, arguing that the typical Christian household is missing the mark. But Hale's Christianity is a lie. He holds up but twists the scriptures to his own (and others') destruction, ignoring them as it pleases him to justify heinous crimes and take advantage of others, all while denying wrongdoing of any kind. He isolates himself and his family. Butterfield's Christianity is the truth, as she models Jesus in dying to self and living for others in a way most other Believers will only admire. She brings others in and cares for them. Both claim to be correct; in the end, "you will recognize them by their fruits" (Matthew 7:16).

Rating: A

The Gospel Comes With a House Key (Rosaria Butterfield)

In The Gospel Comes With a House Key, Butterfield calls Christians to practice "radically ordinary hospitality," with her charge and prayer being to "let God use your home . . . for the purpose of making strangers into neighbors and neighbors into family." She sprinkles a few principles among dozens of story-driven examples. She and her husband are certainly 'radical' in approach, freely offering their home, meals, time, service, and even vehicles. They welcome all- the sinner, the rich, the poor, the Christian, the atheist, the broken, the whole, the druggie, those who agree, and those who do not. They visit those in prison and befriend them, sending aid as well as prayers. They open their lives and resources to all regardless of background or disposition. Why? Because the Gospel comes with a house key.

Christ changes our lives and demands that we carry our cross, pouring ourselves out for others. That looks like many things, and one of them is practicing hospitality. We recognize that everyone- strangers and sinners included- are "marked by the dignity of the God of the universe but also by the imputation of Adam's sin." People are valuable not because they have a specific identity (gender/race/creed/etc.) or achievement but because they are made in God's image. And we are to love them, in part by opening our homes. "When our Christian homes are open, we make transparent to a watching world what Christ is doing with our bodies, our families, and our world . . . [and] our unsaved neighbors watch us struggle with our own sins." "Christians are called to live in the world but not live like the world. Christians are called to dine with sinners but not sin with sinners." Butterfield's call is for us to open our homes in a "practical, unfussy, and constant" way. Have people over- all the time. Have a meal ready, a table over which to talk, a shoulder on which to cry, etc. Have your guests be a part of your home, helping with chores. Give and receive lavishly, as "the principle of both giving and receiving builds a community and glorifies God."

Hospitality "sees our homes as hospitals and incubators." It is risky- it may mean suffering. It is costly- living below your means so you can serve others more. It is gritty and messy- they may not love you back. It is not fancy. "Hospitality shares what their is; that's all. It's not entertainment. It's not supposed to be." She offers a few principles:

• Respect the reality of your neighbor's lives and households
• Pray that you will be a safe person to hear the burdens of your neighbor's hearts
• Understand the Biblical difference between holiness and goodness and don't be afraid to celebrate the goodness of your unbelieving neighbors
• Don't accuse of ill will people who hold to a different theology
• Know why it matters most that we are made in God's image
• Start somewhere. Start today.

And a few basics:

• Ordinary hospitality cares about the things that neighbors care about
• It works from strengths and interests
• It looks out for old people
• It relocates to neighborhoods hit hard by drugs, crime, and poverty
• It includes the children and values their concerns

Review

The content was outstanding; the delivery, frustrating. Butterfield is story-driven in approach (that's fine), but in a seemingly stream-of-consciousness way that drove me up a wall. There are outstanding principles and examples in there- just be prepared to meander with the author. Most examples are from her household and what they do. Text does not convey tone; the cynical could read this as high-handed or showing off. But I don't think she means it that way. She's living what she preaches and exhorting others to do the same.

Her work is timely and critical- "Often, we Christians have no idea how to open our hearts and our homes to include people who need to be there." Yet we must realize that "God uses us as living epistles" to our neighbors. Overall, her work was a powerful reminder and challenge to me and my household. We love having people over but don't want them to see our mess. Hosting means hours (or days) of preparation . . . that's not how love (or the Gospel) operates. Meet people where they are- and where you are. We need community; may we do our part to grow that in our neighborhoods and lives.

Rating: B+

Major League Changes

Oriole Park at Camden Yards (image from here)

I had a mild panic attack when I read the article on ESPN last week- the Orioles' top brass (sons of owner Peter Angelos, who has been incapacitated since 2018) are fighting and- this is the important bit- rumor is that they may move the team. Oh no. Please no. 

One son- John- responded to the move speculation here, saying it isn't true- the Orioles are here to stay. Others believe a move is inevitable. Though the latter article doesn't present compelling arguments, it is enough to keep me worried. The stadium lease is up next year, and attendance is way down. (It would go up if the O's weren't consistently horrible . . . but I digress.) Regardless of the future, it has me thinking about baseball and how remarkably stable its teams have been.

Per that last article, only one MLB team has relocated in the past 50 years (the Montreal Expos became the Washington Nationals in 2005). The only other changes to the League in my lifetime were through expansion:

- 1993: Florida Marlins and Colorado Rockies

- 1998: Tampa Bay Rays and Arizona Diamondbacks

That's it. Of course the League went through changes before then- we have had professional baseball since the 1870s in America, after all- but the past two generations hasn't seen much change. I would hate to see any team move. That said, I need to remember that my Orioles spent 50+ years as the St. Louis Browns (1902-1953) . . . and a year before that (1901) as the Milwaukee Brewers. Few alive today would remember them when they wore these caps (source) . . .

. . . but I bet that move to Baltimore devastated a generation or two.

To everything there is a season. But I hope the Orioles have many more right here in Baltimore. Do your part; go see the O's play. 

Top Gun

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell is an F-14 pilot; one of the best. He's selected (with his RIO, "Goose") to attend Top Gun, where he vies with the other pilots (especially Iceman) for top spot in the class. But when a training mission goes wrong, Maverick must come to terms with the reality of loss and pain . . . and fast,  as he's thrown into a combat zone.

With people raving about its sequel (currently in theaters), I re-watched Top Gun yesterday for the first time in decades. I remembered more than I thought (I must have seen this movie a lot as a child). Released in 1986, it holds up surprisingly well. The movie moves lightning fast- perhaps appropriate due to topic, but they could have slowed things down a tad on the relationship/character development side- but has quotable moments, impressive action scenes, and poignant moments. Everything is very "eighties" about this flick, to include the music (no bad thing; it is fun to reminisce). But, again, it does hold up well. 

*Mild spoilers here* Seeing this as an adult, the main thing that bothered me were timelines & events at the end of the film. Consider:

- Maverick & company graduate Top Gun (in California); they're given deployment orders at the ceremony

- 24 hours later, they're on an aircraft carrier in the Indian Ocean

- They immediately do a mission that turns into an active combat zone

- Maverick is the hero and immediately given his choice of assignment; he chooses to return to Top Gun as a flight instructor. After one mission.

The ending felt insanely accelerated. And it was something that could have been easily changed- why not say "one week later" in the Indian Ocean? And why not add a screen explaining that Maverick went on to have a good career, and __ years later, returned to Top Gun as an instructor? Easy alterations to make things a good deal more believable. Finally, an active combat mission against Russia with no spiraling ramifications?! Before the Cold War was over? But whatever . . . it's a fun film.

Rating: A-

Inkdeath (Cornelia Funke)

The Inkheart trilogy concludes! Immediately after Inkspell . . .

Mo, Meggie, and Resa are together again, living with the Black Prince and his band in the forests of Inkworld. Ombra is now ruled by the Adderhead's cronies, driving the women and children therein to despair. As Mo contemplates how to help, the Adderhead realizes his book giving eternal life has a problem, and will stop at nothing to fix it- and take revenge on Mo. Meanwhile, Elinor desperately seeks a way into the story, as Fenoglio and Orpheus pen rival versions of the tale's finale. How will the story end? Are the characters controlled by the ink, or can they change the story to their liking?  

-------

This conclusion to the Inkheart trilogy was in the same vein as the other entries- suspenseful, poignant, and satisfying. 

Thoughts on the Trilogy

As a whole, I like how the trilogy looked at the power of words and story. "So often it is words or pictures that first tell us what we long for." Funke's idea of being able to write and speak things into being may have its roots in the Bible- "In the beginning was the Word" (referring to Jesus), and we see the Lord speak Creation into being in Genesis. Words do indeed have incredible power- to create and destroy.

Additionally, the story explored the concept of immersing ourselves in another('s) story. Sometimes, that happens when we're unhappy with our lot in life's story and yearn to be in another world (like Elinor or Orpheus). Other times, it can be when we immerse ourselves in a larger narrative of the world we're in, laying down our desires for the sake of others (like Bluejay). Ultimately, per Dustfinger, "Who knows? Perhaps all of us belong in more than one story."

Overall, this is a fun, child-appropriate fantasy trilogy. Recommended.

Rating: A

The Bad Batch: Season 1

Introduced in Clone Wars: Season 7, "The Bad Batch" is an elite clone trooper force, genetically mutated with varied special abilities. Now with their own television series, The Bad Batch: Season 1 tells their story as they witness the rise of the Empire, flee its cruelty, learn of their inhibitor chips, remove them, and figure out how to survive in a galaxy very different from the one they were created to serve. All while protecting another genetically deformed clone, Omega.

This came out over one year ago. We started this 16-episode series then, but lost track of it when we moved back to America. Picking it up months later certainly led to gaps in memory, but it was enjoyable enough. Some of the episodes seemed like random mercenary adventures. Others were poignant, showing how the Empire started the move away from clones to 'regular' troopers. There were a few pleasing tie-ins to the series that were set before and after (The Clone Wars and Rebels, respectively). Overall, it was decent. Season 2 is in production and due out in September.

Rating: B

Pay for Performance?

Back in America, I've had baseball on the mind. We're about a third of the way through the regular season; sufficient for some analysis. Today the focus is payroll vs. performance.

Major League Baseball (MLB) is the only one of America's mainstream professional sports leagues with no salary cap. In other sports, each team is limited to spend an agreed-upon amount each year assembling their team. If (for example) they need a roster of 20 players and the cap is $200 million, they could spend $80 million on just one player, but then they would have only $120 million for the other 19. Salary caps are a mechanism to encourage team parity- if one team has a lion's share of good players, in theory they won't be able to afford all of them as they hit free agency (this is assuming those players demand contracts worthy of their abilities, which is typically the case), meaning the good players over time will be spread over multiple teams and (in theory) encourage competitive games. I won't get into the effectiveness of the construct here (personally, I like it, but it is no guarantee of parity- good synergy and coaching matter, too). Either way, MLB lacks the construct, meaning any team can spend as much (or as little) as they like assembling their roster.

Per spotrac.com, in 2022, the New York Mets have the highest payroll ($260M), and the Baltimore Orioles the lowest ($46M). The same site shows each team's winning percentage; below is the current breakdown (ranked by payroll; WIN% is the column to the right of the team name).

As you'd expect, some of the teams with the highest winning percentage also have the largest payrolls. But it isn't universally true; the Phillies, Red Sox, White Sox, Braves, and Cubs are above the league average in payroll but below in winning percentage. Conversely, the Twins, Brewers, and Rays are below the league average in payroll but above in winning percentage. 

While winning is what ultimately matters, you can also see how the teams rank in batting and pitching, respectively (stats from ESPN):

In batting, the Rockies, Guardians, Marlins, and Twins are hitting above their weight. The Padres, White Sox, and Astros aren't living up.

 

In pitching, the Rays, Brewers, Twins, Tigers, and Guardians are pitching above their weight. The Braves, Phillies, White Sox, Angels, and Giants aren't living up.

If the MLB is sufficient to prove the concept, you do indeed get what you pay for . . . generally. But here's to those small market teams. I'm cheering for you.